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stardustbarbarians · 2 years

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I'll Just Wipe Off My Neck

Chapter 1 (ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4)

A Jake Kiszka/Daniel Wagner & Samuel Kiszka/Daniel Wagner Fic

Summary: Nothing can come between brothers. Except when your older brother steals the person he knows you have feelings for.

Tags: pining, unrequited love (maybe), angst

Words: 3.7 k

A/N: So, I kind of make Jake a dick in this fic, but I don't believe he is one in real life at all. I was inspired by Drop the Guillotine by Peach Pit and I needed a "villain" so please don't come for me for that. Anyway, I'm having a lot of fun with this fic and I hope you enjoy! (I'm working on that Josh fic you guys voted for, don't worry!)

+++

The semester had ended yesterday, the excitement of freedom for a brief reprise of time was the buzz all throughout the campus for students and faculty alike. Many students were packing up their cars or rented U-Hauls and returning to their homes until the bell of academia chimed once more with the chill of autumn. But not Sam and Daniel. The two of them were perched on the balcony of their apartment and watching their peers flurry about while hauling box after box from their dorms.

“I know I was against this apartment at first, but I’m glad we got it,” Danny admitted over the brim of his coffee mug, cringing in sympathy as a woman tripped over an uneven part of the sidewalk and sprawled her box of clothes all over the pavement.

Sam looked up from his book to gaze at Daniel, a borderline smug smile on his lips. He was on the verge of saying “I told you so” when he stopped. The breeze decided to pick up at that moment, gently tussling Daniel’s raven curls and causing a few of them to halo around his head. Not for the first time since they had known one another, Sam was struck with just how gorgeous his roommate was.

To say that Sam had feelings for his roommate was an understatement. He was absolutely and positively smitten for him. He had been for a while now, going on for nearly two and a half years. Sam had thought about telling him how he felt, but he didn’t want to ruin a good thing.

“You’re not gonna say ‘I told you so’? Normally you jump at the chance,” Danny teased, one of his eyebrows quirking up at his roommate.

“I don’t have to since you seem to know I’m right anyway.” Sammy cursed himself for getting lost in Danny’s beauty. He had to be more careful or else he’d get caught.

Daniel just huffed out a laugh before turning back to people-watching. They sat there soaking up the warmth of the sun for a few more minutes, finishing up their coffee and book chapter, respectively.

“Alright, we should start packing up. It’s starting to get less busy on the streets,” Sam prompted, placing the sticky note he was using as a bookmark into his book and setting it on the ground to stretch out his spine. The note was one Daniel had stuck onto Sam’s door that simply read “to do: shower” on it.

“We’re staying here over the summer, Samuel,” Danny absentmindedly spoke, his attention on a family of birds nesting on the tree near their balcony.

Sam halted his stretch, arms still hoisted above his head as he glanced over at his best friend.

“Don’t tell me you forgot I invited you to my family’s lake house for this week, did you?”

Danny froze momentarily, regaining his composure and setting his empty mug on the ground like Sam had with his book.

“Oh my god, you did,” Sam stated, amusement seeping from his tone.

Danny sighed deeply and stood from his chair. He stretched his arms up above his head, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of skin between the hem and the line of his pajama shorts. Sam traced the line of it, his gaze then flicking up to the muscles of Danny’s arms. The groan Danny let out made Sam blush despite how innocent it was.

“I’ve been sitting in that chair for as long as I can remember,” Danny quoted in a supercilious accent, sending Sam a smirk over his shoulder.

“Sorry to hear that, Miss Jordan Baker. I’d offer to take you golfing with me, but I don’t really like playing with cheaters,” Sam played along, a smile pulling at his lips on its own volition.

“It’s fine, I’ll find some bond salesman to act as his beard even though he’s clearly infatuated with his neighbor,” he continued, his arms falling to his sides.

“You’re still mad that Mr. Wallace wouldn’t let you argue that Nick Carroway was gay, huh?” Sammy already knew the answer to that, but he also enjoyed getting a rise out of Daniel.

“Nick was clearly very gay! For god’s sake, he described Jordan - his supposed love interest - in a sentence or two. Do you know what the length was used to describe Gatsby’s smile alone?”

“Fourteen lines.” Sam knew because this wasn’t the first time he’d had this discussion with his best friend. Yet despite the repetition of the debate, he was just as enamored and enraptured as the first time.

“Fourteen lines!” Danny repeated, throwing his hands up in the air. It caused Sam to giggle like a schoolgirl, something that he was embarrassed over.

“Go get packed, you maniac,” Sammy demanded through a laugh, his cheeks beginning to hurt from how hard and how much he was smiling.

Danny did as he was told, but not before sticking his tongue out at Sam in a show of playful defiance. Sam was left alone on that balcony, a bittersweet ache in his chest at the interaction that slowly eroded into melancholy as the seconds ticked by. He just wanted more from Daniel, but he’d never ask. He knew that he had to take what he could get, but it also wasn’t enough. He just wanted to be able to show how much he loved him; to display the full extent of his adoration.

With a bone deep and weary sigh, Sam got up from his chair to start packing himself, grabbing the mug that Daniel had left beside his chair.

+++ “Wake up, Sam, we made it to a rest stop.” Danny gently shook Sam’s shoulder, rousing him from a dream about being Nick Carraway; standing by as the love of his life falls for someone that will be nothing but bad news for him.

Rubbing at his eyes, Sammy winced at the bright sun as it streamed into his line of sight. Grumbling, he unfastened his seatbelt and yawned as he tumbled out of the passenger seat.

“Where are we?” His voice sounded like he smoked ten packs a day, gravely and raspy.

“We’re about half an hour out still,” Danny answered, leading the way to the doors of the rest stop.

This caused Sam to groan petulantly. He was so tired of being cooped up in that car that he was very close to just running the rest of the way to the lake house. The best part of road trips Sam wasn’t even experiencing because all the radio stations around the area played awful music. Normally his solution would be to use his radio transmitter, but he forgot to bring it with him.

“Your turn to drive,” Danny told Sam over his shoulder. Sam could tell Danny was also irritated due to the speed of which he was walking. Sam and Daniel weren’t that different in height, but those extra few inches Daniel had really counted towards walking speed when he wanted them to.

Cursing under his breath, Sam just let Daniel speed-walk away, putting his hair up in a bun as he walked at a normal pace. It was way too hot to have his hair down and the humidity was not helping in the slightest.

Once Sam walked out of the bathrooms, he spotted Daniel waiting for him over by the vending machines. When he spotted Sammy walking towards him, he pushed off the wall he was leaning against. Sam did not notice how big Danny’s arms looked while they were crossed over his chest or how good they looked on full display with the tank top he was wearing. He also did not notice how a girl around their age was being very obvious with how much she was checking Daniel out, her face pulled into a mask of approval. There also was no deep-seeded jealousy flare up in his chest.

“Sam,” Danny called, gaining his best friend’s attention and snapping him out of his poisonous train of thought.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t hear what I said, did you?” The tiredness was apparent in his voice.

“Oh yeah, I did. But you should say it again just in case I heard you wrong,” Sam smoothly responded, flashing his charming smile to hopefully dispel Daniel’s annoyance. It worked.

“Such a damn charmer, Kiszka,” Daniel muttered under his breath, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “I asked you if you wanted to grab snacks now or wait and stop at some place for food.”

Sam didn’t need to think about it at all. “Stop somewhere. I’m starving and chips won’t be enough.”

“Alright, then.” Daniel tossed Sam the keys and they walked towards the car. Conversation didn’t pick back up until they were back on the interstate.

“Hey, Daniel, I should probably warn you. My older brother Jake is gonna be there and he’s a little mad that you’re coming. He’s not gonna do anything to you, but don’t expect him to be in the best mood.”

“What? Why is he mad?” Sam didn’t need to see Danny’s face to know how perplexed he was.

“Our lake house only has one extra spot for someone to sleep and usually Jake is the one to bring someone to fill it. It’s never been the same girl twice, either. Anyway, he’s mad because I called dibs before he could,” Sam explained, his eyes flicking away from the road momentarily to look at his best friend.

“So he’s mad at the circumstances?”

“Yep. Mostly at me, but I know how to handle him. I just thought I should warn you because he can be a real bitch when he’s pissed off. Just please don’t take it personally; he’s mad at me,” Sam continued, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel in place of the silence that had filled the air.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” Danny assured, his hand momentarily gracing Sammy’s shoulder. It was only for a moment, but that was all it took for Sam’s heart to jump.

God, he was stupidly in love with Daniel.

+++

Sam was so relieved to finally pull into the driveway of the lake house that he shouted in joy. “HA! Finally!”

Danny, the poor bastard, jumped about a foot in the air. He was hardly ready for Sam’s screaming. Danny shot him a dirty look that dared Sammy to say anything; he had to purse his lips to keep from smiling or laughing.

“Samuel! You made it!”

Sam whipped his head away from his roommate to look over at where the familiar voice had come from. He was rushing to get out of the car, his seatbelt thrown off and the door being thrust open. He launched out of the car and towards her, his long legs taking him there within seconds.

“Mom, I missed you so much,” he admitted once he was captured into her embrace. He was easily half a foot taller than her so he had to hunch over to properly hug her, but he happily did so.

Immediately Sam felt safe and warm, his mother’s embrace the safest place in the world as far as he’s concerned. They hugged each other for a long period of time, but Sam would’ve stayed there forever if he could’ve. It was so easy to forget about the stress of his school and future as well as the constant arduous thrum that resided in his heart over Daniel Wagner.

The sound of the car door shutting reminded Sam that he couldn’t hug his mother until the end of time like he wanted to. Regretfully he pulled away and gave his mother a genuine smile. Just as he did so, he heard footsteps approach from behind him.

“Oh, you must be Daniel!” his mother exclaimed, that huge and inviting smile on her face.

“Hello, Mrs. Kiszka, it’s good to finally meet you,” Daniel greeted, a warm smile on his face that had Sam weak in the knees.

“Sammy, you never told us how handsome he was,” Mrs. Kiszka playfully scolded, her gaze taking all of Daniel in. She looked over at her son, a knowing look in her eyes as she noticed the dusing of pink that colored her youngest’s cheeks.

She knew.

Sam went to start speaking, already knowing that he’d be a floundering mess when Danny spoke before him.

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Kiszka,” he graciously thanked. Sammy looked at him like he was his guardian angel, but of course Danny couldn’t see that.

“Oh, please, call me mom, or Karen if you’re more comfortable with that. Sam’s already told us so much about you I feel like I know you.” To the untrained eye, his mother’s smile looked warm and friendly. Sam recognized the mischievous glint in them and it made him nervous beyond belief.

“Has he now?” Daniel turned towards his roommate of three years, a cheeky smile on his lips. If his mother embarrassing him wasn’t enough to make Samuel blush, Daniel’s smirk definitely was.

“Uh- have Ronnie and the twins made it yet?” Sammy asked, very desperate to change the subject.

“Yes, they have. You two were the last ones to arrive,” Mama K informed, a look on her face that said she knew what Sam was trying to do but was letting it happen anyway.

“Daniel, would you like to meet my siblings?”

“Sure, but we should probably take our stuff inside,” Danny posited, his hand pointing at the car to indicate said stuff needed to be taken inside.

“Right, good idea,” Sam agreed, flashing his signature charming smile.

“While you boys do that, I’ll make something for you guys to eat.” And with that, Karen turned onto her heel and walked into the house.

It was under the burning orange sunset that Daniel and Samuel hauled their belongings into the Kiszka family lake house. They became lost in their own world momentarily as they cracked jokes and laughed over things only they would understand. The cooling air from the setting sun nestled onto their skin and nearly formed goosebumps had it not been so welcomed. The early summer air was far from blistering, but some extra movement was a surefire way to accumulate sweat across one’s skin.

Finally, they had moved all their belongings into their respective room. It wasn’t the bedroom Sam had usually used, but since he had brought a guest this time around, he got to use the room that Jake usually occupied with whatever new girl he managed to bring with him. It had two twin beds in it, Daniel taking the one close to the window and Samuel taking the one near the door.

The pair walked into the kitchen, their stomachs more than stoked at the promise of food. Sam noticed his three siblings and their father sitting at the table, a card game ongoing between the four of them. They were playing Euker, a game Sam was never good at and could barely remember the rules for. Josh was the first one to notice them enter.

“Sammy!” he cried before getting up from his seat. He walked towards his little brother with his arms wide open and a smile just as wide. Sam met him halfway, a smile about as big as his brother’s on his face as well.

“Josh, this is my best friend and roommate Daniel.” Don’t look at him any differently than you would your other friends, Samuel Francis. If you look at him even slightly differently they’ll know.

“Hey Daniel, I’m Josh, Sam’s oldest brother,” Josh introduced, extending his hand for Danny to shake.

“By five minutes,” Jake called from his spot, making absolutely no move to get up from his spot.

Sam looked over at his older brother, seeing the truly nasty look in his eye that didn’t show anywhere else on his face. It made his skin crawl the way Jake was able to hide it with his charming smirk that got him all the female attention he wanted; Sam hated even more that he was the one he learned that from. If Sam had looked over at his best friends, he would’ve seen the flush coloring Daniel’s cheeks as he looked at Jake.

“And you’ll never live it down,” Ronnie pipped up, the teasing tone evident in her voice as she flipped her long hair and got up from her chair. She didn’t even look in Jake’s direction, but the smug look on her face told Sam she knew just how much she got under Jake’s skin.

“Hi, I’m Ronnie, the best Kizska,” she introduced, going up to Danny and giving him a friendly hug.

He let out a startled but delighted laugh and hugged her back.

“Goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” she blurted out, speaking the exact words on Sammy’s mind. “You failed to mention that detail, Sam.”

He couldn’t see his face, but Samuel bet that he was about as bright red as a stop light. If the look on Ronnie and Josh’s face were any indication, then Sam placed a pretty safe bet.

“Leave your little brother alone, Ronnie. You know he’s as oblivious as they come,” Mr. Kiszka finally spoke, much to Sam’s chagrin.

“Ah, you’re right. Sorry, Sammy, I forgot about your crippling obliviousness.”

“And I forgot about your terminal annoyingness. I see it’s progressed,” Sam shot back, a fake sense of pity lacing his words.

Ronnie bit her lip to keep from laughing. To change the subject, she looked over at her older brother. “Jake, aren’t you gonna say ‘hello’?”

Jake briefly looked up from his phone only to say: “Hey, David.”

Sam just scoffed and shook his head. Of course he didn’t care.

“Jake, what the fuck was that?” Josh questioned, an incredulous look on his face as he faced his twin.

“That’s enough, Joshua,” Mrs. Kiszka lightly scolded, plating the salmon she had been cooking. “Sit down, boys, food’s ready.”

The two youngest of the group took their seats at the counter, Danny stealing one last look in Jake’s direction. Sam wasn’t so oblivious to notice that.

+++

Sam was the only one inside, the rest of his family and Daniel all sitting around the campfire that was adjacent to the beach. He had to get away. He couldn’t stand the knowing looks his family were throwing him every time he spoke to Daniel. Had he been that obvious? Was he so infatuated with Daniel that it had been so glaringly obvious with each look he gave his roommate?

The only one who wasn’t making Sam sick to his stomach, strangely, was Jake. He was the only one who wasn’t giving him a look every time Sam talked to Danny. In fact, he wasn’t paying anyone any attention. He was moodily brooding into his beer bottle and barely engaging with everyone else.

Sam was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice his big sister standing in the kitchen with him. In fact, he jumped about five feet in the air when she spoke to him.

“Whatcha doin’ hiding in here?”

Sam screamed like a horror movie protagonist, his heart rate jumping to at least 120.

“Ronnie! Don’t sneak up on me!”

“If walking normally into a room is your definition of ‘sneaking’, I think you need to brush up on your vocabulary,” she seamlessly replied, that same devious glint Sam saw in his mother’s eyes in his sister’s.

Samuel just gave her a look, his hand over his heart, and turned towards the sink to fill up the glass he took out of the cupboard about five minutes ago. He took the opportunity to try and calm down his heartbeat.

“You never answered me.”

“I don’t have to,” Sam petulantly responded, bringing the glass to his lips as he looked out the window above the sink to see the campfire flickering in the summer night air.

The silence that laced the air was pressing and awkward, Ronnie’s anticipation and willingness to stay there until she got her answer annoying Sam to no end. But Sam was nothing if not stubborn. They waited in that kitchen in silence until Ronnie finally broke.

“It’s Daniel, isn’t it?”

“How obvious is it?” Sam desperately questioned, finally turning to face his older sister.

“Well, it only took me about five seconds to figure it out, so…” At that point, she had taken a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter. Her long brown hair was spilling over her shoulders.

“Ronnie, it’s so bad,” Sam lamented, a pain in his chest that was very familiar.

“How long have you felt this way?”

“About two and a half years, now.”

Samuel watched his sister’s face morph into one of deep sympathy.

“Sam-” she began, being interrupted by her brother. He knew what she was going to say.

“I should tell him, I know. But I don’t want to lose him, Ronnie. I love him too much and I can’t have him walk out of my life. I’d rather have him like this than not at all,” he admitted, choking up at the very thought of losing Daniel.

Ronnie got up from her chair, pulling Sam into a hug. “It’s ok, Sammy.”

They stood there for a moment as Sam choked back his tears. He never knew that being held by his sister would make him feel better, but he was glad that she was the one to check in on him.

“Are you good to go back outside?” Ronnie asked after a moment.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

Sam grabbed two beers from the fridge, handing one off to his older sister. He was grateful that it was dark out so no one could see his red eyes from his crying.

The two of them rejoined the group, Ronnie reclaiming her lawnchair and Sam taking the spot on the blanket next to the fire. He put his hair up so there was no chance of it catching on fire. Scanning his family surrounding the firepit, he noticed that Jake was nowhere to be seen. Part of him thought that was curious, but the other part of him just shrugged it off. It wasn’t like he was being the life of the party as it was.

What Sam didn’t know was that the moment his older brother would return would be the beginning of the end. Everything would change. And it would all start with Jake sitting down next to Daniel.

+++

Taglist:

Danny:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @ageoferin @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @kdarling1 @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22

Sammy:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @turtleskane @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @kdarling1 @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22

Jakey:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @honor-gvf @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @turtleskane @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @brokenbellsgvf @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @kdarling1 @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22

Taglist Form

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #angst #sanny gvf #jake x danny #janny gvf #sammy gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam x daniel

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Washing Machine Heart

Day 22, Story #2 is by @rosequartzstarswrites

Title: Washing Machine Heart Author/Artist: rosequartzstars - @rosequartzstarswrites (Because of Tumblr settings, this is posting from my main blog, but it’s me!) Pairing: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (and background Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger) Prompt: 5+1 Rating: T (only for some strong language and non-explicit insinuations) Trigger Warning(s) (if any): none apply!

“I can’t believe I’m going through with this,” huffed Hermione, struggling to keep up the brisk pace Ron was marking on the sidewalk.

“You never believed you’d have to, did you?” Ron said gleefully, seemingly unaware of just how hard his long-legged strides were to keep up with.

“You never told me you were that good at chess!”

“No, more like you never thought anyone could be better than you at anything!”

Despite only having been friends, close friends, with them for a semester, Harry had already become accustomed to the constant bickering between Ron and Hermione, to the point even of endearment. Coming from the Dursleys’, arguments and rebukes were something he was used to, but the undertone of friendship with which Ron and Hermione faced off was a welcome change (and a very entertaining one). Still, he tended to side quietly with Ron, and this particular time was no exception: part of him was delighted at the prospect of seeing Hermione get a tattoo.

This had all started from a ridiculous bet, born of boredom in the lounge of their dorm building. Ron had eyed the communal chessboard, battered and chipped from years of usage, and challenged Hermione to a match.

Hermione had scoffed: “Only if you want to lose, Ron.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Ron had said, exchanging a look with Harry as a sly smile crept onto his lips.

“I’m completely certain.”

“Certain enough to bet?” Ron had prodded her.

The competitiveness that, before becoming friends, was all Harry had known of Hermione had flared up in her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“When you lose—”

“If I lose, and I won't—”

“When you lose,” Ron had reiterated, “you have to get a tattoo of my choosing.”

Hermione had smirked. “Game on.”

In Hermione’s defense, Harry thought, she hadn’t ever considered she might lose. There really was no way of expecting how good Ron had turned out to be at chess, especially since —Harry thought— Hermione had based her certainty on how abysmal his grades were, against her own straight A’s, in their proofs-based mathematics class, which relied entirely on strength of reasoning. But, as it turned out, Ron was actually a master logician, if only somewhat lazy at his math classes, and this he had proved by absolutely obliterating Hermione with the fastest checkmate Harry had ever borne witness to.

And that is how they had come to find themselves out on the streets of their little college town that night, wrapped in their scarves and their winter coats to battle the first of the December chill, walking to a tattoo parlor Ron knew in the area so Hermione could be forever reminded of her loss by a tattoo Ron would choose. And if Harry knew Ron well, and knew how much he relished teasing Hermione, the reminder would be a strong one.

“I didn’t even want a tattoo,” Hermione was mumbling, more to herself than at either of them. “I never wanted one— did you know that you might not be eligible to donate blood if you have a tattoo? I mean, not that it’s impossible, but it’s a factor against you, like your weight and your age. And my family has a history of needing transfusions— oh, God, what if my grandfather needs a donation, like, tomorrow? The three-month period of eligibility won’t have elapsed, and my father can’t donate, and– and–” She froze in the middle of the sidewalk. “Oh, God, have I killed my grandfather?”

“Relax, Hermione,” Ron said, throwing a fraternal arm around her shoulders and squeezing her half in an attempt to get her walking again. “You’re halfway across the country from home. You wouldn’t be able to fly out on such short notice anyway.”

Harry had to stifle a laugh at how Hermione gaped at Ron then, a billion other dire possibilities to worry about racing through her head now. Ron, however, was less successful at keeping down a chuckle. “I’m kidding, Hermione. Besides, a tattoo will make you look badass.”

“I don’t want to look badass!” Hermione squeaked shrilly. “I’ve never been remotely interested in looking badass!”

“Well, interested or not,” Ron said as they came up to a dark brick building with a neon sign reading LOVEGOOD’S flickering above the door, “it seems like you don’t have much of a choice, because we’re here.”

Hermione let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a gasp and a whine as she looked up at the storefront that, to her, was synonymous not only with her doom but apparently that of her grandfather.

“Ron, please?” she said meekly.

Ron, however, looked gleeful and would not be deterred. “A bet’s a bet,” he declared, grabbing her wrist and beginning to march her up the three or so stairs that led up to the door of the tattoo parlor from the sidewalk. Harry lingered behind for an instant, watching the backs of his two friends as they waddled up the stairs, smiling as he listened to Ron debate whether he would make Hermione get a skull or a sailor’s “Mom” arrow-pierced heart, and Hermione pleading shrilly with him not to do either of those things. Watching them, Harry’s smile widened. He was lucky to have them as friends, that much he knew, despite the short time he’d spent knowing them. Why he hadn’t found them his freshman year was beyond him— but now, now that he had these wacky outings and constant bickering to enjoy, he felt overwhelmingly lucky that they had found him.

“Harry, are you coming in or what?” Ron beckoned him. He had stopped on the topmost step and was still gripping Hermione, whose face was a mask of pure, crystallized terror.

“Absolutely,” Harry said, hurrying up the steps with a little hop. “This I’ve got to see.”

Ron pushed open the door to the parlor with a little too much gusto, and Hermione cringed at the metallic sound of the chimes above the door as they tinkled with the announcement of their entrance. The front of the shop, sealing off the rest with a counter that had seen better days, was empty, the backroom separated by a beaded curtain.

“Hellooo?” Ron called into the backroom, marching right up to the counter. “Is anybody here? We bring a very eager customer!”

Hermione began to protest, but just as she did, an employee came out of the backroom to stand behind the counter. Catching a glimpse of her, Harry felt as if the wind had been knocked out of his chest: she was stunning. She was tall and slender, her toned arms visible through the ripped-off sleeves of her vintage Hole tee, with a curtain of straight orange hair pulled back into a long high ponytail. Her bright brown eyes glimmered atop a button-like nose that matched her small, round mouth perfectly, the pale fine face finished by a spattering of freckles. Even before she had spoken a single word, Harry felt the confidence coming off of her in waves, simply by how she propped her elbows up on the counter and eyed their party somewhat playfully. He was frozen to his place with the sight of her, hoping his jaw hadn’t dropped as low as it had felt in the wake of his awe.

Upon seeing her, however, Ron had had exactly the opposite reaction. “Ginny?” he said incredulously.

“What are you doing here?” the woman —Ginny— said without any greeting, returning Ron’s frown.

“I thought you weren’t working today!”

“I’m covering a shift for Demelza, she had a gyn appointment today.”

“Well, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have come in,” grumbled Ron. The tips of his ears were beginning to pink, a sign Harry had learned to recognize as a hint of extreme emotion in his friend.

“Well, you’re here now, so… what can I do for you?” Ginny said. “I mean, you can’t possibly be the one getting inked, Ron. You’re too much of a wimp.”

“Shut up, or I’m telling mom you got your helix pierced. That’ll make for a fun Christmas greeting when we’re back home, I’ll wager.”

Then the similarity became apparent to Harry: the freckles, the aggressive red of their hair, the same glint in their eyes… Ginny was Ron’s sister. Somehow, he didn’t know whether that was something he should feel good or bad about.

“Tattletale,” Ginny said, swatting at him. “And it’s called an industrial piercing. Not that you’d know.” Only then did she seem to remark on the rest of the party.

“Harry Potter,” she said, and Harry gulped as she crossed her muscular arms over her chest and leaned back, surveying him. “Come to get a sixth tattoo?”

“A sixth— how do you know?” Harry said, befuddled. Out of all the opening lines he would’ve expected her to use, this had not been one of them.

“You can credit the rumor mill at school,” Ginny shrugged, still eyeing him with interest. “You’re a topic of interest. Or at least among the soccer teams.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Romilda swore you had a griffin tattooed on your chest, but I told her I’d heard it was a dragon. Much more macho, I thought.”

“Thanks,” Harry said dully. What else was he supposed to say?

“Don’t mention it,” Ginny gave him a conspiratorial wink. “And if I were you, I’d find out who on the boys’ team has been giving you the eye in the shower enough to count your tats. I bet it’s Ron.”

“It’s not!” Ron said angrily, the red from his ears bleeding out onto his cheeks.

“I bet it is,” Ginny mouthed to Harry, giving him another wink. “But it’s not you?”

“Pardon?” said Harry, for whom the ‘it-is-it’s-not’ exchange had grown somewhat confusing.

“For the tattoo?” Ginny said, and Harry felt like an idiot. “It’s not you who’s getting it?”

“No, ah, actually— it’s Hermione,” Harry was knocked back into his senses as he gestured toward Hermione, who had stood, utterly baffled, throughout that whole exchange.

“Hermione Granger?” Ginny said, and Harry was almost glad when she turned her gaze away from him and toward Hermione. “As in, Scamander Fellow Hermione Granger?”

“The one and only,” Ron declared proudly, happy to be back off a topic that bothered him (teasing Ron) and back on a topic that delighted him (teasing Hermione).

“I wouldn’t have chalked you up to the tattoo type,” Ginny said.

“Oh, she’s not,” Ron said, his face lighting up as if Christmas had come early.

Ginny’s eyes darted between the dismal face of Hermione and the cheerful face of Ron, her eyebrows rising as she took it in. “Okay, I’m not going to ask about whatever this is. What am I doing on you?”

“I’m designing it,” Ron said brightly. And if Harry had thought that Hermione’s face couldn’t get more desolated, he’d been wrong.

“Christ, Hermione, what has he got on you?” Ginny said, already opening a drawer on the counter to pull out a sketchpad and a pen.

“I’m such an idiot,” Hermione grumbled.

Ron pored over the sketchpad, shielding the paper from Hermione’s eyes as he sketched. When he was done, he handed it to Ginny with a quick flick of the wrist that, much to Hermione’s dismay, ensured she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of what was on it. Ginny looked over whatever it was Ron had drawn and then looked up at her brother with a frown.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, then,” Ginny shrugged. She lifted the counter to open a gap through which Hermione could walk. “Follow me.”

Looking like a lamb led to the slaughter, Hermione looked up to heaven as if making one last, futile plea before scrunching up her nose and following Ginny through the beaded curtain to the backroom. Because yes, she hated the idea of getting a tattoo, but she hated the idea of letting Ron hold one over her even more.

Ron watched her leave delightedly, relishing in the jangle the beaded curtain made as it swallowed Ginny and Hermione into the backroom. “This is going to be good,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Oh, this is going to be so good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Harry blurted out all of a sudden. He startled himself as much as Ron when he said it, though he was glad he’d been able to pare down the question from what was actually swirling around in his head: Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister that looked like THAT?

Ron looked at him and shrugged. “I don’t know. It never came up.”

“You told me about every other one of your five brothers, but not the sister.”

“Nope.”

“Not the sister that seems to be about our age.”

“Nope.”

“Not the sister that seems to be about our age and plays soccer.“ And is hot.

"Nope.” Ron paused and frowned. “She’s a year below us, anyway.”

“Oh, then that explains it,” Harry said sarcastically.

“It seemed like more of a second-semester-of-friendship revelation.”

“I see.”

Harry held the silence between them for a few moments more before he allowed the next question out. “She plays soccer?”

“One more of the long line of Weasleys that get athletic scholarships to Hogwarts College. Except for Percy— no, he was a disgrace, he got in on an academic grant.”

“The family disappointment, truly.”

Harry wanted to ask more about Ginny, but he held his tongue. His friendship with Ron was the most precious thing his sophomore year of college had yielded him, and he didn’t want to jeopardize it by prying further or making it seem like he had the hots for his sister. Even though he did. He suffocated that small voice at the back of his mind: he hadn’t even spoken properly to Ginny, just stood there like an idiot and let her quip freely about his tattoos— which, mind him, apparently were fodder for locker talk back at Hogwarts.

The buzz of the needle in the backroom as it started up brought Harry out of his thoughts, just in time to see a shit-eating grin appear on Ron’s face.

“I wish I could see her face right now,” he said gleefully, and Harry let himself stop thinking about Ginny to join Ron in picturing what Hermione Granger must look like seated in a tattoo parlor chair.

“It really wasn’t so bad,” admitted Hermione as they exited the tattoo parlor and went down the little steps back onto the sidewalk.

Despite his pretensions of malice, Ron’s nobility (which had never been in question, even despite his teasing) had shone through and yielded a considerably modest tattoo: a small, capital “R” in his own handwriting. Hermione, who had almost cried with relief after Ginny showed her the design, had chosen to get it on her left thigh, on the side and at the very top, right under her hipbone.

“Why did you get it there?” Harry asked as they resumed their brisk walk back to campus.

“It’s not a place you usually show. That means if a sleeve shifts or an interviewer sees, I don’t know, my ankle or something, they won’t notice it.”

“As if a tiny ‘R’ would disqualify anyone from a job, let alone you,” snorted Ron.

“Professionalism is a virtue, Ronald,” Hermione huffed, though her cheeks had gone red. “Besides, since that part of me is always covered, I’ll save myself from having to explain the story behind it to anyone that spots it.”

“Yeah, except the bloke that eventually undresses you and sees you in your panties. Try explaining what that 'R’ means to him,” said Ron. But Harry suspected Hermione wouldn’t have to: from how Ron’s eyes had widened and his gaze had lingered when Hermione had pulled down the side of her jeans ever so slightly to show them the finished product, exposing a sliver of her underwear, Harry could almost wager that Ron would be the bloke in question.

They walked in animated chatter for the rest of the way, the tattoo forgotten until Ron made a quip about Hermione now having crossed the gateway to joining a biker gang and Hermione going positively beet-red in the face with outrage. Then Harry, his hands in his pockets, simply smirked to himself and resigned himself to their bickering for the rest of the walk, knowing he was no longer needed in their exchange. Instead, he let his mind drift to Ginny. She hadn’t really spoken to him again, merely ducking out from the beaded curtain backroom and instructing Hermione on how to take care of her tattoo, saying only a general goodbye to the three of them as they exited the shop. There had been nothing in Ginny’s manner to suggest that she might be thinking of him as strongly, as irremediably, as he was of her, and yet there he was.

The main quad was mostly deserted, except for a few scattered groups of late-night library frequenters or sneaking couples, as the three of them crossed it to get to their dorm. Ron and Hermione didn’t stop arguing as they climbed the four flights up to their floor (the elevator, as usual, was broken), and only broke it off because Hermione reached her room before the boys reached theirs, slipping inside it and shutting the door before Ron had a chance to get the last word in.

“Well, that went well,” Ron shrugged as he and Harry kept walking down the hall to their room.

“You actually got her to get a tattoo,” Harry said with some admiration as they reached their door.

Ron grinned as he swiped the key card. “I may drive her crazy, but if anyone was going to get her to do something like that, it was going to be me.”

Ron pushed the door open and let them into their dorm room. He closed the door and, without taking off his coat, immediately flopped onto his bed— or, well, what could be seen of the bed under mountains of dirty or otherwise discarded clothes. Away from his mother’s chore-mongering for the first time, Ron had let himself go wild and go to the other extreme, but even Harry had to admit that the army of socks draped over the foot of his bed was beginning to smell a little stale.

“So,” Ron said, propping his head up, “no parties tonight?”

“Well, it’s a Wednesday,” Harry said.

“So what? There’s no party spirit around here?”

“Ron, it’s the last Wednesday before final exams. People are studying.”

“I wasn’t aware I was rooming with Hermione,” Ron grumbled. Harry had to admit she might have gotten to him a little. However, Ron’s irritation was short-lived, a grin appearing on his face again. “Wait, but we’re not people. We’re not studying.”

Harry surveyed the room and, despite his desire to throw in the towel for the night and have fun with Ron, felt a pang of dismay at just how much grosser it would be if they caved and did that (last time they had, they’d had a Pringle-eating contest, with devastating results for their sheets, which still had some crumbs). “No, Ron. We’re doing laundry.”

Ron groaned. “Jeez, now I’m rooming with my mother.”

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to do the laundry. I’ll do it for the both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go hang out with Dean and Seamus or whatever, see if you can get Hermione to do her second wild-card act of the day and make her stop studying to hang out with the guys.”

“Now I’m a man with a mission,” Ron said, perking up in delight at the prospect of teasing Hermione, or even seeing her once more that night.

“Just shove your clothes in the laundry bag before you go, won’t you? I don’t want to touch your nasty briefs more than I have to.”

Ron obliged, tossing all the clothes on and around his bed into his orange laundry bag and pulling the drawstring to close it. “I’ll update you on the Hermione thing,” he said cheerfully, hurrying out of the room and down the hall to the left to the room they’d left Hermione in.

Harry laughed to himself, wondering how long it was going to take Ron to realize why exactly he always seemed so eager to do anything Hermione-related, as he too threw his dirty clothes into a checkered drawstring laundry bag. Then, he hoisted one sack over each of his shoulders and opened the door using his ankle and leg to let himself out, his hands full with the laundry bags. He stifled a smirk as he passed Hermione’s room and heard the familiar bubbling sound of she and Ron rowing. If Harry knew her at all, he knew however much she might argue she’d be out of that room in an hour tops.

He groaned as he looked down the stairs, and rued the day he had been placed in the dorm with the shittiest elevator on campus. Resigning himself, he began to walk slowly down the poorly-lit stairs to the basement, where the laundry room was. However inconvenient this descent was, Harry was at least comforted with the knowledge that the laundry room would not be crowded, which would be the greater inconvenience once the elevator was fixed.

The basement was even dimmer, the white lights flickering and buzzing with electricity as Harry walked to the laundry room almost at the end of the hall. Sure enough, the laundry room was deserted, oddly quiet with none of the familiar hum and rattle of the machines as they worked. Harry knelt in front of a washing machine and began unloading the contents of the laundry bags into it, cramming them in so they’d fit because he sure as hell wasn’t shelling out quarters for two washers. When he’d made it all fit (which had involved the use of force to jam the door shut), he went to the shelf that held the communal detergent and poured it into the soap compartment. With that done, he dug out eight quarters from his pocket and inserted them into the washer’s slot, pressing the “Start Cycle” button when he heard the clink that let him know his quarters had been accepted. The washer rumbled slowly to life, jets of water trickling out as it began to spin in one direction and then the other, and it was a couple minutes before it was spinning at a hearty pace.

Rising from his crouch (he had always liked to watch the washing machine as it booted up to wash in earnest), Harry took the laundry bags and turned to head back upstairs, already thinking of what he might do to pass the time in the hour he had before he had to switch the clothes to the dryer.

He was so caught up in thinking of this that he didn’t see the person entering the laundry room at the same time as he was exiting, which ended in an awkward clash between them.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry blurted.

“No, it’s fine, I’m sorry too— Harry?”

Only then did Harry realize who he had bumped into, and only because she kept standing there did he believe it. “Ginny?”

She still wore her Hole shirt, but had discarded the ripped jeans, combat boots, and round-the-waist flannel he’d seen at the tattoo parlor. Instead, she wore frayed gray sweatpants and flip-flops, her hair pulled up from the long ponytail into a messy bun. She, however, somehow still managed to look almost unbearably beautiful. What’s happening to me?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the only thing he could think of right that second. Spotting the laundry basket she was cradling, he added: “No laundry in your dorm?”

“No, yeah, there is one, but it’s always too crowded, it being a freshman dorm and all.” Harry nodded: his first year, he too had done entirely more laundry than he had to, and was thankful by the quarters he saved just by realizing he could wear a pair of pants more than once before they were dirty. “So I use the one here. Much quieter. I know Ron’s ID and password—”

“You do?”

“He gave it to me once so I could pick up his books from the library. And my memory’s great.” She gave him a half smile and looked beyond him at the laundry room. “Doing laundry?”

“No, I just like the ambience down here. The shitty lighting and bleach smell are really my style,” said Harry. Ginny laughed, and Harry felt a rush of pride at what was probably the first witty thing he’d ever said to her. “Need a hand?”

“I’d appreciate one, sure,” Ginny said, again smiling at him. Harry moved so she could walk into the laundry room, and watched her pick one of the washing machines that lined the wall. When she’d settled on one, he crouched down next to her and help her lob the clothes into the maw of the machine.

“Tattoo parlor let out early?” he asked as they placed the clothes inside.

“More like you guys came in really late. You were my last customers— I just cleaned up and closed after you left.”

“And you work there?”

“Sure beats a regular work-study, doesn’t it?” Ginny grinned. She tossed in a Tide pod that was left at the bottom of the basket, closed the door to the machine, and rose to find the quarters needed to activate it. “Oh, shoot, I left my wallet in my other pants—”

“I got you,” said Harry, digging for eight more quarters in his pocket. For once, he was glad of his bad habit of carrying an excess of loose change in his jeans, something Hermione already got on to him about (sometimes, like when she’d gifted him a money purse, not too subtly).

“Thanks,” Ginny said, picking the laundry basket up from the ground.

Harry listened for the telling clink and then pressed the button. The washing machine whirred to a start, but for once, Harry didn’t feel compelled to watch it boot up: instead, he turned to Ginny. “So how did you come to work there?”

“At the tat shop?” Ginny asked, hopping to sit on the top of the washer where her clothes were spinning. “My friend Luna’s dad, Xenophilius—”

“Gesundheit.”

“Shut up,” Ginny said, but the hint of a laugh was (to Harry’s satisfaction) visible on her lips again. “Anyway, Xenophilius owns the place. He set up in a college town because he knows college is the first time kids are truly free to make rash, impulse decisions.”

“Like getting a tattoo?”

“Exactly. And besides, all the college students love his New Age bullshit, they think it’s very 70s, so his shop is always full. He got a big boost after he started placing crystals in the shop windows.”

“He’s in with the kids, then?”

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll be mortified. But he’s great, really. A little eccentric, but great. He knows me from when Luna and I took an art class together in 10th grade, and he’s always complimented my art, so he helped me get my tattoo artist license as soon as I turned 18 and hired me.”

“Is Luna the girl with the shaggy blond hair and the weird glasses?”

“That’s her. Though I’m surprised you didn’t know her by her bottlecap necklaces. That’s usually what people comment on.”

“Does she work there too?”

“Yeah, though not as an inker, she’s useless with a needle. She designs a big chunk of the tattoos, though, both original designs and commissions or requests.”

“That’s awesome,” Harry said. He realized that was the first time through the whole conversation that he had stopped. He’d never hesitated on what to say next: conversation with Ginny had flowed easily, naturally, and he hadn’t had to think too hard to keep it going. Still, he was a little disappointed that it had stopped. Ginny, however, seemed to share in this, because rather than say goodbye and take her leave, she opened up a new topic.

“So how long have you and Ron been friends?”

“Er– since the start of this school year, actually.”

“Really? You’d think from how he talks about you, he’d known you forever.” Harry felt a flush of happiness at hearing that Ron talked about him.

“Well, I got him for a roommate this year, and we just clicked. Then it turned out we had a lot of the same classes. And we’re both on the soccer team, so it just got better from there.”

“It seems strange that you never crossed paths your freshman year.”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, freshman year is weird for everyone. I certainly felt like I was just bouncing from one place to another. I still hang out with a lot of the guys from last year, but my friends have changed. It makes sense— the first year, everyone is trying to meet as many people as possible, as if it’s a race, but by sophomore year you know more of what you want and what you’re looking for. In a way, I’m glad I met Ron now that I’m in a more stable place, now that I know my way around the college and have a better grip on things. I have a feeling he’s a friend I’m gonna keep.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re sticking around the Weasleys,” Ginny said, and Harry felt a tingle run up his spine. Was she… flirting with him? “And Hermione?”

“Oh, Hermione’s great, Ron and I would be dead by now if not for her— I don’t know how I got through a full year without her.”

“But she’s very different from you guys, isn’t she?”

“Well— on the surface, sure, but not in the things that matter. The fact that she went through with the tattoo tonight when she could’ve kicked up a fuss and bailed out tells you all you need to know.”

“So what I’m hearing is that Scamander Fellow Hermione Granger is as much of a bonehead as my brother at heart?”

“Stubborn, is the word I’d use. And only when Ron’s involved, actually.”

Ginny smirked. “Idiots. They haven’t even realized it.”

Harry knew exactly what she meant. “You think it too?”

“Oh, I’d bet on it. Ten bucks says they’re together by the end of the year.”

“Hey, did our visit by the parlor today teach you nothing about bets? They can be dangerous.”

“But I’m betting against you, aren’t I?” The way she said you made Harry’s heart skip a beat. “Fine, not ten bucks. But I’ll bet you a load of laundry, how’s that?”

“Deal,” said Harry, taking Ginny’s extended hand to shake it. The touch of her palm, with its long, slender fingers, sent warmth coursing down from his hand and the length of his arm. They let go and dropped hands, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Harry thought he detected a certain reluctance in Ginny as they did.

Harry leaned against the washer, his propped elbow almost brushing up against her thigh. “How about you? How’s your first year going so far?”

Ginny winced. “As well as you’d expect, I suppose. Lots of people still behave like it’s an extension of high school, and I’m very much over that. But as things go, I’m having a blast. Being on the soccer team certainly helps.”

“Congratulations on that scholarship, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, her wide smile revealing a row of perfect, square white teeth. “You’re on a scholarship too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. My aunt and uncle would’ve never paid a single cent for me to go to college, so it was the only way. But I’m sure they were glad to be rid of me anyway.”

“They sound like lovely people,” Ginny said sarcastically.

“I should introduce them to this Xenophilius sometime. My uncle Vernon would have a stroke just walking into that shop.”

“Well, if you ever swing by, you have an insider contact,” Ginny offered, and Harry loved the implication of something, even something as simple as an 'insider contact’, between just the two of them. “I’d be happy to arrange a meeting, especially for such esteemed patrons.”

“I might take you up on that, if I ever planned on seeing them again,” Harry said. The words came out a bit more harshly than he’d expected, and the second silence in their talk set in, brought on by the darker implications of his family situation. Desperate to break it, Harry cleared his throat and geared up to talk again: “So, do you have any tattoos?”

He was relieved to see the smile, that coy, almost lopsided smile, appear on Ginny’s face again. “Actually, no, not a single one.”

“Do you think you’d ever get one?”

Ginny thought for a second. “I might, if something meaningful enough came around. And only if I was 200% sure. But really, I feel like one tattoo would lead to another, and then I’d never stop and run out of room on my skin. So it’s more of a containment mechanism, really.”

Harry smirked. “Hm. Interesting.”

Ginny broke out onto a full grin as she watched him. “What?” she asked, but when Harry’s smirk only deepened, she shoved him playfully, her touch on his shoulders eliciting the same warm sensation as the handshake. “What, Potter, tell me! Why is it interesting?”

“I mean, since you work at a tattoo shop, and you’re wearing a Hole t-shirt, I just thought you might be the type—”

“The Hole tee? Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna gatekeep it, like you’re the type of guy who’d be like 'name three songs'—”

“No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I don’t know a lot of music by Hole. I really only know who they are because of that one Fall Out Boy song Courtney Love was featured in—”

Ginny winced. “Not Fall Out Boy, please.”

“Why? What’s wrong with Fall Out Boy?”

“Harry—”

“I know they get a lot of shit, but really, their first albums are pretty good—”

“Harry, you’ve gotta stop right here, or you’re going to make me stop finding you so attractive.”

And just like that, there it was, out in the open. Harry felt stun: he felt his mouth open to offer a witty retort, but no words came out. Because the girlish grin had evaporated from Ginny’s face and turned into a different, more mature look, her eyes smoldering slightly and her mouth slightly pouted.

“What about you?” she asked, her words slower, as if she was choosing each one individually. “If the soccer team gossip is true, I know you have five tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice having dropped as well. “Yeah, there were a few tat shops around my neighborhood where the rules were pretty lax.”

“What are they?” Ginny asked.

“The tattoos? Well, the first ones I ever got were my mom and dad’s birth and death dates, on my wrist,” Harry said, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to display two small lines of numbers, in plain black ink, on his forearm.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny said softly.

“Don’t be, I was really small when it happened. But I still wanted to pay them homage. Anyway, I’ll not bore you with my family history right now.”

“But tell me sometime?”

Harry was ecstatic at the implication that Ginny wanted to spend even more time with him. “Yeah,” he said, smiling at her. “Yeah, I will.” He moved on to the second tattoo, shifting the other sleeve up a bit to show Ginny a small black paw print in the center of his wrist. “This was my third one. My godfather was the only person my aunt and uncle would let me see while I was growing up, and even then only because he threatened them. And he had this huge, black shaggy dog, I think it was a Newfoundland, that looked almost like a bear, named Padfoot. I loved that dog, and every time I think of the happiest moments growing up, Padfoot’s in a lot of them. So when he died when I was sixteen, I got this to remember him by. It seems like a tribute to my godfather, too, so I like it doubly.”

He didn’t need encouragement from Ginny to keep going. He raised his left leg and propped it up on the washing machine by where Ginny’s legs hung, rolling his sock down a bit to show a green, line-art tuft of grass snaking above his ankle. “I got this when I got the soccer scholarship to come here. I wanted something to commemorate soccer, seeing as it’s not only, y'know, my passion, but also what got me out of that damn house for good. But I thought something like a soccer ball or a net or even the pitch outline would be too cheesy, so I got a bit of grass, y'know, as in the field…”

“Tasteful,” Ginny nodded her approval, and Harry felt newfound appreciation for that tattoo. “That’s three down, Potter.”

“I’m getting there.” Harry brought his leg down from the washer and turned his back to Ginny, taking his hand up to the nape of his neck and using it to shift the hair there upward to reveal the back of his neck where it turned into his back. “Can you see it?”

“The little lightning bolt?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the story of that?”

“That was my second one. To be honest, I was a little ink-happy after my first one, so a couple of weeks after I got it I went back and got this.”

“But why a lightning bolt?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, turning back around to face her. “I guess it was just cool.”

“Oh, very,” Ginny said, and the edge in her voice let him know she was teasing him. “That leaves us with one, then. The emblematic chest tattoo.” Again, the playfulness disappeared from her face and was replaced by that strange look, the one Harry couldn’t really decipher but really, really liked. “Tell me, then, Harry— is Romilda Vane right?”

It was only because of the suggestiveness in Ginny’s voice and the permanence of that look on her face that Harry did what he did next. His movements slow, he pulled his shirt off over his head, setting it on the washing machine right by where Ginny sat. He heard Ginny draw in a breath and it hitch in her throat as she saw him, her eyes moving over his bare skin to spot the ink blot that had brought this all on. Curled above his right pec was a small, S-shaped dragon, colored in red and gold.

“I win,” Ginny said, her voice still husky, as she extended her left hand to touch the dragon with her fingertips.

“Are you going to tell Romilda?” Harry said, his own right hand settling lightly on Ginny’s thigh.

“No, actually,” Ginny said, her palm now coming down flat on Harry’s chest. Her other hand had also drifted to him, and she had placed it on Harry’s left side, right below his ribcage, as if to hold the side of his torso. “I think I’d rather keep this moment to myself.”

And then she was leaning in and kissing him, touching her lips to his first with tentative softness that turned into a stronger, more determined fire as the kiss deepened. With both of Ginny’s hands on Harry, and one of Harry’s on Ginny’s thigh and the other supporting the weight of the kiss against the solidity of the washer, they leaned into one another. Harry’s mouth sought out Ginny’s eagerly, overcome by the fiery feeling pooling in his stomach and rising up to his throat through his chest, by the fact that everything he’d thought about on their walk back from Lovegood’s was coming true much sooner (and much better) than he’d expected. He felt Ginny’s tongue nudge at his lips and opened his mouth to let her in, engulfing more of her lips with his as he did so. Ginny kissed passionately, her tongue meeting Harry’s even as her teeth dug lightly into Harry’s lower lip, making him kiss her more deeply. With her this close, he was invaded by the flowery smell of her hair, by the soft feel of her skin, by the low humming sound she made as she kissed him. And everything was coming together, making the fire in his chest grow, and it was a good kind of burn, better than whiskey, better than anything—

The loud ding of the washer as it announced it had concluded its cycle startled them, and they pulled back from the kiss looking a little dazed, that one upbeat chime having been all they needed to bring them reluctantly back into the real world. Still Ginny didn’t take her hands off Harry, and Harry felt less than inclined to move his from her leg.

“I should, uh, switch to the dryer,” he said, the only thing that popped into his mind there.

Ginny tightened her hold around his middle and moved her hand from his chest, wrapping it around his upper back to draw him closer. “Oh, let it wait,” she said, and then she was kissing him again, and Harry was finding that the dryer could wait for hell to freeze for all he cared.

The sleepy sound of the chimes above the door didn’t even make Ginny raise her gaze from her stats study guide, which she’d pulled out to make the best of the not-too-busy lull at Lovegood’s. “We’re almost closed,” she announced to whoever had come in.

“You can’t make room for one last customer?” a familiar voice said, and only then did Ginny perk up immediately.

“Harry!” she said brightly, shutting the stats book as it became all-but-forgotten. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to add one more tattoo to the five I’ve already got,” said Harry. “Think you can give me my sixth?”

Ginny didn’t even need to say yes, just opened up the lift-up counter door and disappeared through the beaded curtain. “Flip the door sign to 'closed’ before you come through, will you?”

Harry obliged and flipped the sign before following Ginny to the backroom. He sat patiently on the tattoo chair as Ginny milled about, getting the supplies ready.

“Y'know, you never did tell me the story behind your dragon tattoo,” Ginny commented as she went through the sterilization procedure for the needles. “Seeing as we were, um, otherwise occupied…”

The memory of the kiss flooded through Harry with the same fire that he’d held in his chest ever since, the flame growing to engulf his whole body just hearing Ginny mention it. “Should I tell you now?”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“I got it as a tribute to my old headmaster back home, Albus Dumbledore. Funny old man, and incredibly cryptic, but he’s the one that first gave me the idea of applying for the scholarship and helped me get all my grades and papers in order so I could make it here. We were very close, and he had this saying that he used to tell me whenever I ended up in his office for getting into trouble— 'never tickle a sleeping dragon’, he’d say.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Harry laughed briefly and shrugged. “Hell if I know. But it was his catchphrase. So after I graduated, I wanted to get something to commemorate him, so I got the dragon from his favorite saying. He came with me and got it too.”

Ginny turned to him and eyed him quizzically. “Your headmaster got the tattoo along with you?”

“I told you he was a funny old man.”

Ginny pulled a pair of black latex gloves over her hands and rolled a wheeled office chair over to Harry, the needle in hand. “So by what I’m hearing, you only ever get tattoos of things that are extremely meaningful to you, right?”

“That’s right,” said Harry.

“So, Mr. Meaning, what’ll it be this time?”

Harry smiled. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it slightly upward, just enough to uncover his lower trunk. He pointed to a spot on the left side of his torso, right under his ribcage— right where Ginny’s hand had been, where her touch had been burned into his skin. “Right here,” he said. “I’d like a little washing machine.”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #hinny #harry x ginny #side romione

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

Text

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Kazama Chapter 3

*sigh* been super tired cuz of the new semester. literally passing out whenever there’s time between classes or after them... though, i’m glad my courses are back to being online. had one in-person class last week and there were roughly 44 people in rooms meant for 50, so social distancing was impossible for most people (i got lucky and was seated by myself)... and while im guessing enough people complained to the school I’m at since the classes switched back to being online now, im still annoyed that the Law Society of Ontario mandated that we had to be in-class in the first place since most legal proceedings seem to be conducted online nowadays... making what the LSO did feel like a situation of “do as I say and not as I do.”

oh well. c’est la vie.

anyway, enjoy~ kazama technically doesn’t show up in this chapter again.

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Kazama Chapter 3

Translation by KumoriYami

I talked to some of the other warriors about how food had been stolen from the kitchen, which had caused quite a stir......

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find any clues about the criminal.

Yukimura: Fu......

While feeling a sense of disappointment, I returned to my room.

Yukimura:......Huh!?

Another letter had once again appeared on my desk.

Yukimura: Wh-Why did this happen again/is another one of these here?

Just like before, the name of the recipient and sender hadn't been written.

Perhaps they were confusing me with someone else?

While thinking that, I opened the letter, which only contained a short sentence.

【Do you have a response now/What is your response/answer/Your response?】

Yukimura:......

Response/Answer to what?

Furthermore, without the name of the recipient, I couldn't write a response/I couldn't write a response without the name of the sender.

Yukimura: Is this someone trying make a joke...? [reword later?]

When I thought that——.

(image of Kazama flashes)

For a split second, I felt as if there was someone behind me, and looked back.

Yukimura:......

But when I looked back, I found that there was no one behind me.

Yukimura: Am I being imagining things/being too oversensitive......?

As I thought that, when I turned my gaze back towards the desk, I noticed that a new letter had appeared.

Yukimura: Th-This wasn't here just now/before/earlier?

It felt as if there was a strange atmosphere/sense of tension in the air.

As I felt a slight chill, I cautiously opened the letter/so I opened the letter carefully.

Then——

【My patience is limited/I have limited patience. Give me a/your response as soon as possible.】

There was only one sentence in the letter again.

Yukimura:......

Even if you say "give me a/your response," it was hopeless since I didn’t have the sender’s name....... which was what I thought.

I could hear the sound of footsteps coming from outside my room.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by the appearance of Kondou-san and Hijikata-san/I saw Kondou-san and Hijikata-san.

Yukimura: Ah...... it's just Kondou-san and Hijikata-san......

Kondou: Oh, Yukimura-kun, what's wrong? You look quite flustered/panicked/worried......

Yukimura: Ah, no...... Kondou-san, Hijikata-san...... I have a question that I wanted to ask...... Did either of you....... happen to leave/place a letter in my room?

Hijikata: A letter? I don't recall doing that/No impression of that...... Did something happen/ What happened?

Yukimura: Yes. Actually——

I described the strange incidents that occurred earlier to the both of them.

I wasn’t sure if they would believe that the number of these worrisome letters had increased......

At first, the both of them looked bewildered/confused, though now they were looking at me with serious expressions.

Hijikata: You're saying that someone broke into your room and left these letters? Is that really what happened/true?

Yukimura: Yes. I also don't understand why this is happening......

Kondou: What the heck is going on? It’s impossible for an outsider to have infiltrated the Shinsengumi’s headquarters......

Hijikata: First of all, can you let me see the letter that was left for you?

Yukimura: Ah, yes, here it is.

I handed the letter [or letters? not enough context to tell if this is plural or not] that had been left on my desk to Hijikata-san.

He frowned as he read the letter, and eventually......

Hijikata:......Somehow, I feel that this is from an arrogant bastard. Just from looking at this.... I feel pretty irritated.

Kondou: This..... I can't discern anything else from this. Furthermore, only one sentence was written.

Hijikata: One sentence is enough to judge that guy's personality.

Kondou: Is, is that so? Then Yukimura-kun, do you any idea/clues about who might have sent these?

Yukimura: Clues? Speaking of which, it felt like I heard that tone before...... [the word i have is "heard."]

I closed my eyes and searched the depths of my memory.

A haughty/arrogant person who would come across as extremely prideful even when sending a letter......

(image of kazama flashes again)

Yukimura: !?

There’s no way/There was just no way...... This is the Shinsengumi's headquarters......

I vigorously shook my head as I tried to push that idea away [tl for the latter half is "shake off the shadow/doubts"].

Yukimura: That's impossible......

Hijikata: In that case, we’ll have to observe the situation for the time being. If something else happens, let me know right away. We still have to deal with the commotion caused by the guy who stole food from the kitchen.

Yukimura: Un-Understood.

Kondou: Then, we'll be going first. See you later, Yukimura-kun.

Yukimura: Okay. Thank you very much for listening to me.

Bowing to in thanks, I bid them farewell as the two of them headed down the corridor.

...What on earth was going on with these letters?

I can only hope that they don't cause too much of a commotion......

-end of chapter-

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki yuugiroku 2 #Kazama Chikage #Yukimura Chizuru #Hijikata Toshizou #kondou isami #hakuoki game translation

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mertronus · 3 years

Text

Perfect Courage

This has been in my head ever since I first saw the music video for "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran. So, feeling in an extra fluffy mood tonight, I put the video on a loop, stuck my headphones on, and started to write. And this little beauty came out of it.

Summary: Ron and the crew go on a weekend ski trip...will he finally get the chance and find the courage to tell the girl he loves how he feels? (rated G)

Read it on AO3

****

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time

Friday

I stepped off the train and pulled my coat tighter around me. Blimey it was cold. But I guess when you’re in the mountains of Switzerland, it’s to be expected.

I made my way through the station until I stepped out into the village and adjusted my rucksack on my shoulder. Looking up I could just make out the slopes that I guessed I would be hurtling down on a pair of wooden sticks the next day. Who’s idea was this anyway?

Right...Hermione’s.

A smile stretched across my face. Not a surprise that I would do something like this simply because Hermione suggested it. Because Hermione organized it. Because it was Hermione’s parents’ property where we would be staying.

Anything with Hermione’s name on it I would immediately sign up for. I would do anything for her.

I started walking down the street towards the cafe we were meant to all meet, thinking about my best friend. I’ve known her almost all my life, been in love with her since - good God at least since we were thirteen. At least, that’s when I cottoned on to the fact that I couldn’t get enough of being around my nagging, know-it-all, nightmare of a best friend.

And yet, I never made a move, I was too scared, too nervous, feeling too unfanciable or too undeserving...I was convinced she would never go for the likes of me. And, more than all of that, I didn’t want to lose her as a best friend. I was resigned to being her friend for the rest of her life if that meant I got to be in it.

Until she started dating that bloody wanker Cormac McLaggen.

He treated her alright - I would have treated her better - and she seemed happy enough, but I was miserable. I couldn’t do it. For a whole year I watched them and dreaded the moment she would ask me to walk her down the aisle to the tosser.

When she finally ditched him before the fall semester started, I made up my mind. There was no life for me if Hermione wasn’t in it - like really in it. And mine. Otherwise it’s absolute torture. But with us attending different universities, and her in super studious mode during the semester, I never got my chance...until now.

So, yeah, while I hate the very thought of skiing, my attendance on this friends weekend adventure with our lot from school definitely has an ulterior motive. This weekend I would make my move. This weekend I would tell her how I feel. This weekend I would finally, finally, tell Hermione Granger how unbelievably in love with her I am.

I found a love for me Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

When I reached the cafe, the first thing I noticed through the window was an adorable head of curly brown hair. She looked amazing sitting there all comfortable in her oversized jumper and hat. The waitress was just handing her a steaming cup - likely tea. More specifically Earl Gray tea with half a sugar and just a bit of milk.

Yes, I know how she takes her tea. Don’t judge. I did say we’ve been best friends since we were kids right? Sod off then.

I took a deep breath and opened the door to step in. Courage of a Lion ...our school motto. Am I a lion or not?

“Ron!” she cried, a huge grin on her face. “You’re early!”

“Well, yeah I - OOF!” I caught her mid lunge and wrapped my arms around her waist. My nose involuntarily dipped into her curls and I breathed her in. Her familiar scent warmed me immediately and I knew my ears were likely bright red. She pulled back and looked at me expectantly. Oh, yeah...what was I saying to her? Right...early...I’m early.

“Caught the earlier train so I wouldn’t be late,” I finally explained.

“Well, I’m glad,” she grinned and reached up to ruffle my hair. I fought the urge to close my eyes at the feeling of her fingers running through my locks. “Been so long since we’ve had time together - the two of us.” When I looked into her eyes, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of something...longing? Love? Blimey I hope so.

She led me over to the table and plopped me down as she began talking a mile a minute. Most of us were starting our final semester at uni in a couple of weeks, but Hermione of course beat us all to the finish line, having graduated a semester early...with honors thank you very much. Did I mention how bloody brilliant she is?

I gazed at her as she filled me in on all I’ve missed recently in her life - the last exams she took, the jobs she’s going for, visiting her parents over the holidays…

“But oh, listen to me drone on and on, what about you Ron? How was your season? Your semester?”

I snapped myself out of my daze and tried to collect my thoughts as best as I could. I told her a bit about how things were going with football, how I scraped by as usual with my usual mediocre grades and recapped my own holidays. Suddenly it hit me that this was likely the only time this weekend we would be alone. If I wanted to talk to her, now was the time.

Now or never. Courage of a Lion.

“I’ve uh...I’ve been thinking a lot too, Mione,” I said softly.

“Don’t think too hard, Ron,” she teased as she took a sip of her tea.

“Yeah har-dee-har-har,” I shook my head but grinned at her. For a moment I forgot what I was saying altogether as the sun made some of her curls look golden dancing around her head. It always caught me off guard how beautiful she is. How much I love her.

Right...focus Weasley. Just say it... ‘Hermione Granger, I love you’...

“Hermione, I..I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about -”

“Harry!”

“No, not of...what?” She jumped up and ran off to throw her arms around our other best friend...the one who always seemed to have the most impeccable timing.

“Hi Hermione,” he said with a grin. He released her and patted my shoulder. “How’re you Ron?”

I stood and smiled, pulling him into a hug. I was really happy to see him, even if I wished he waited another ten minutes or so. “Good, happy to see you mate.”

Behind Harry, Hermione was happily greeting my sister Ginny - who was dating my git of a best mate - and our friend Neville. It wasn’t long before Dean and Seamus came bustling into the little cafe to join us.

“We’re all here!” Hermione exclaimed. “Shall we head up to the cabin?”

It wasn’t long before all of our bodies and bags were piled into a van that Hermione rented for the weekend to get us around. Not a fan of driving the slick roads of the mountains, she asked me to drive. I was a bit disappointed when Neville happily called bagsy and jumped in the passenger seat beside me. I was really hoping to have Hermione beside me for the almost thirty minute drive up the mountain. Instead, I watched as Hermione wound up squeezed in between Dean and Seamus way in the back since Harry and Ginny took the middle two seater.

Gits. All of them were gits.

We drove up the mountain and I tried to keep my focus solely on the road, but it was hard when I kept wanting to glance back in the rearview mirror to catch a particular pair of brown eyes. I caught her eyes a couple of times and she smiled at me...it was as if the smile was only for me.

I really had to focus on the road.

“Ooh I love this song!” Ginny suddenly lunged forward to turn up the radio as Ed Sheeran’s “Sing” was starting up.

“ I don't wanna know If you're getting ahead of the programme…”

I glanced back and laughed at the sight of my friends singing at the top of their lungs.

“I want you to be mine, lady And to hold your body close Take another step into the no-man's land For the longest time, lady…”

I watched Hermione laughing with Dean as they sang and felt a pang of jealousy...until she looked up and caught my eye again and winked. I blushed and looked at the road but when I glanced back up, she was still singing and watching me. A chill ran through my body although the van’s heat was blasting.

We decided to stay in that night and get an early start the next morning. Hermione’s parents had the caretakers stock the fridge and pantry, so the seven of us had a good time pulling out random ingredients and making a hodge-podge of food - paired with the excessive amounts of liquor Seamus procured for us of course.

Everyone started to drop off one by one, and I tried to hang on so I could maybe get a few moments alone with Hermione again, but the last thing I remembered seeing was the girl of my dreams curled up on the armchair before I dozed off myself.

Saturday

Ski lifts are bloody scary!!! It’s bad enough you have all this gear on with your coats and snow pants and boot, then you’re also clipped to these long wooden sodding sticks that are weighing you down, all while sitting precariously on a bench that’s flying through the air.

Who’s idea is this of fun!?!?

“Having fun Ron?” Her arm wrapped around mine and she pulled herself in close as we rode the lift up to the top of the slopes.

I smiled but I’m pretty sure a wince was seen too. “Bit nervous honestly.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall…” I pulled her in close and nuzzled my nose in her hair. “Not too much anyway.”

Okay, I’ll admit it: skiing is kind of fun. Or rather, skiing with Hermione is fun.

We spent the entire day on the slopes, stopping for an early lunch and mid-afternoon to warm up. Hermione spent most of the day teaching me the ropes and I spent most of the day falling on my arse. Even Neville showed me up - him, Dean and Seamus speeding passed us repeatedly on snowboards.

We finally called it a night and headed into the inn for dinner and drinks. We were a few shots in when someone got the great idea to start up karaoke. I hid myself in the back as much as my tall frame with flaming red hair would allow, but quite enjoyed watching Hermione and Ginny’s rendition of “Lady Marmalade.”

As I sat there watching her laughing and carrying on with my little sister, my mind wandered to many more nights like this...double dates with Harry and Ginny, playdates with all of our kids, family events where Hermione feels really comfortable letting her hair down because she knows she’s with people who love her and have her back.

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

“Hey,” a voice called out to me. I looked up to see Hermione leaning over me. I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize that her and Ginny were finished and Dean had taken the stage with Neville and Harry. “Come with me?”

I’ll go anywhere with you. “Yeah...uh sure. Where we going?” I stood and pulled on my coat. It honestly didn’t matter where we were going...as long as it was just the two of us.”

“You’ll see!” She threw her own coat around her and spun around with a laugh as she head out the door. I laughed too because I loved it when she let loose and had a few drinks. She spent so much of her time fussing over books and school and all of the boring adult things that bogged down our lives. Seeing her like this - now spinning in the falling snow trying to catch flakes with her tongue - this is the Hermione I love most. I love all sides of Hermione Granger, but this side...this side is the most beautiful side.

I threw my head back to catch snow on my tongue too, making faces and noises to get her really laughing. I dropped my head to look for her when I felt a distinct splat on my back.

“Oh it’s a snowball fight you want is it?” I called as she ran off towards the road that led up to our cabin. I stooped over and gathered a massive snowball as I commenced chase, her squealing as she ran ahead of me. I aimed and caught her right in her bum.

“Ronald!” She yelled with a laugh. “I’ll get you for that!” She ran toward me with a handful of snow and jumped on my back to stuff it down my back - a favorite torture method of ours when we were kids.

Her laughter echoed in my ears with her so close. I grabbed onto her legs and spun her around on my back to keep her there. “Roooooon!” she yelled. “I’m getting dizzy!” We both toppled into a mound of snow in a fit of giggles. I slid over so I wouldn’t crush her and we lay in the snow in a fit of tipsy hysterics. I looked over to see she had slid away from me in the snow, and was reaching the tips of her fingers to mine smiling. Suddenly she started to giggle again and waving her arms in the snow while moving her legs. I followed suit and after a bit we helped each other up to admire our snow angels.

She hugged my arm and leaned in close. “I want to show you something.”

I took off after her towards our cabin. It was obvious the others weren’t back yet and I thought this could be my chance. Get her in the cabin and get a few minutes alone before the others decided to walk back.

But she ran passed the cabin into the woods behind it.

“Hermione! Where are you going?!”

“Come on!”

We ended up running right into a smaller cabin hidden just a few yards away from the main cabin where we all were staying.

“What’s this?” I asked when we stopped.

“Come on,” she said again, pulling me inside. It was a cozy little one room cabin, a tiny kitchenette in one corner, and a couch and a few chairs around a rug with a stone fireplace. There were stairs leading up to a loft where I could just see a low bed with blankets and pillows just waiting to be crawled into.

“It was an old shed that the caretakers renovated into a separate guest house when there were a lot of people staying in the cabin,” Hermione explained. “When we used to come with the rest of my family, my grandparents stayed out here, to get away from the noise of their kids and grandkids in the cabin.”

“It’s cozy,” I said quietly, looking around. “And quiet.” I caught her eye and smiled. “Hiding out here tonight?”

She blushed but shrugged nonchalantly. “We can...if you want.”

“If you want.”

As if she couldn’t surprise me anymore, she pulled out a small bag with a change of clothes - for both of us.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for this Oxford United shirt! You’ve had it all this time?”

“Remember after Ginny’s birthday party a couple years ago? I was supposed to go home but it was pouring rain and your mum pretty much forbade me to leave.”

I nodded and smiled. “And you came to steal pajamas from me. My Oxford United shirt and,” I pulled a pair of navy blue flannel pajama bottoms out of the bag, “and these.”

She shrugged. “I wore them home and I guess I kept forgetting to give them back. Figured we’d need something to change into - which I’m glad I thought of it since we were literally rolling in the snow!”

We each took opposite corners of the room and turned to give the other privacy to change. As I was changing, I caught sight of something behind the couch. I pulled out a pretty pristine acoustic guitar when I felt Hermione come up behind me.

“My Grandad’s,” she breathed. “He must have left it here.” I sat on the arm of the couch and set it across me, plucking a few strings.

“Bit out of tune but…” I started twisting and tuning the guitar to my liking.

Hermione smiled as she sat in front of me. “I forget you used to play.”

“Still do, sometimes,” I said softly. “I just fiddle around mostly, nothing crazy. I’m no Ed Sheeran or nothin,” I chuckled.

“No,” she sighed. “You’re definitely cuter.” Our eyes locked and I tried to form the words but it was as if I was frozen - trapped in her gaze as I fell mercilessly farther and farther in love with her. “Tea,” she breathed out.

“Huh? What?”

“Tea,” she stood. “I’ll make us both a cup. Two sugars and a bit of cream?”

I smiled and nodded. “Perfect.”

As she kept herself busy in the tiny corner kitchenette, I suddenly had a moment of inspiration and started playing a song I knew, thrilled that I remembered it.

Courage like a Lion, Weasley.

“That sounds familiar,” she said as she set my cup on the small table besides me and sat back in her spot.

“Yeah,” I whispered. She sipped her tea and watched me, her eyes bright and round and locked onto mine. I cleared my throat and started to sing softly.

“We are still kids, but we're so in love Fighting against all odds I know we'll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand Be my girl, I'll be your man I see my future in your eyes”

Tears started to form in her eyes as she stilled and watched me intently. I knew my voice was likely rubbish, but I didn’t care. When she looked at me that way, I felt as if I could do anything.

“Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song I have faith in what I see Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect I don't deserve this You look perfect tonight”

When I stopped playing, she set her cup down and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Ron,” she started.

I pushed the guitar aside and slid down off the arm of the couch to sit beside her. My hands cupped her face and her fingers wrapped around my wrists. “Ron,” she said again, this time as if she was pleading with me. I answered her by pulling her face to mine and brushing my lips against hers softly.

I pulled back the tiniest bit and looked at her. “This okay?”

“More than,” she breathed out. At that I captured her lips with mine and vowed to never let her go.

I was lost. Completely and utterly gone. Her lips were as soft as I imagined they’d be and more. They were gentle and yet persistent, shy and yet demanding. I marveled at how she could always be so many things at once.

When we pulled apart, I noticed she was crying again. “You alright Hermione?”

She let out a slow breath and smiled. “Never better.”

“Good, because I believe I made you an offer.”

“And...what offer was th-that?”

“Be my girl, I’ll be your man,” I rubbed my nose against hers. “Cause I most definitely see my future in your eyes.” She giggled and nodded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes, you're holding mine Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

#romione #romione fluff

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Exploring the Garnet Bamboo Peninsula

Garnet bamboo trees are cool to look at. They don't seem like much at first glance but when you look closely, you can see little buds poking out, like tiny gem shards. I guess that's how the bamboo got its name - the buds do look like a bunch of tiny garnets.

This place is chock full of them and according to Yasmine, it's the only known place where they grow. Aside from the unusual buds, it's like any other bamboo plant - but that doesn't make it any less special. The flowers however are used in teas and soups, so those are local specialties here. They add a subtle bittersweet flavor that goes well with many soups and stir fried veggies.

I've been here for a couple days exploring the peninsula with Nathan, Yasmine, Dello, and Donna. Originally it was just me, Nate, and Yasmine, then we ran into the Clanwings so our trio became a quintet!

Yasmine and Nathan are on break from grad school. I didn't even know Yasmine went to the same college until recently, having just enrolled in the spring semester. I remember that she was debating going back to school after leaving the entourage. She and Nathan aren't in any classes together but since it's a small school they sometimes run into each other at the commons so they kinda know each other.

I've never heard of the Garnet Bamboo Peninsula until Yasmine brought it up. She heard about the place through Jamie, who of course would know about it. Along with the bamboos, the place is known for its cafes and bike trails. Being an avid biker and motorcyclist, Yasmine was intrigued. So when she suggested traveling there to me and Nathan, we became intrigued too.

The peninsula really is a lovely place for sightseeing and hanging out at cafes. It's perfect for a chill vacation where you don't really want to do too much other than be in a different setting. Just seeing the garnet bamboos up close and trying the local cuisine is enough of a fun experience. If that's all we end up doing, then I'm more than satisfied.

While biking along the beach trail, we ran into Dello and Donna. Dello somehow got his bike stuck and Donna was having no luck helping him. So we pitched in and managed to get the bike out, but it was in pretty bad shape. Based on how the crash scene looked, it's lucky that Dello only had a few scrapes and bruises.

Then again, I'm pretty sure Dello - and Donna - are like physically immune or something because they can take a lot of damage and somehow not break any bones or get crushed. It's funny but also kinda weird and unsettling - even they're low key freaked out by it sometimes. I'm pretty sure their uncle had something to do with that - likely by accident as that tends to happen a lot with the Clanwings.

Anyway, we invited Dello and Donna to dinner after helping them with the bike problem. They were sent by their uncle for a business trip and were planning to leave soon. Then they decided to extend their stay because things are a bit chaotic at home and Louise suggested that they hang around for a bit. She didn't elaborate too much but she insisted that they postpone going home so we assume it has something to do with their dear old uncle getting into some sort of trouble.

So Donna and Dello are now on a short vacation, which Donna's looking forward to. Dello admitted that he could use a break, but he also feels kinda bad for leaving Louise alone with the kids. Louise says she and the boys surprised the kids with a camping trip so they won't be at the mansion either. So whatever their uncle has gotten himself into, he's on his own.

It's been fun exploring the peninsula, gathering flowers, visiting cafes, and enjoying the view. We also took turns riding with Yasmine on her motorcycle, which was kinda scary at first but a lot of fun!

Yasmine's got an impressive collection of motorcycles as well as a vast knowledge on them. She occasionally works as a stunt rider, which was how Jamie met her. She's one of those people who gives off the impression of being a cool badass type and not only she is, but she's fun to hang out with too!

Before that, Yasmine was an actress best known on the Teen Scene sitcom Popular Besties. The show, I'll admit, was not that good, but I enjoyed it as a kid. The episodes tend to be a hit or miss and the first two seasons were all right but by the third and final season it was tedious. It was pretty obvious that Yasmine and her co-star were tired of the show so it wasn't a surprise when they later revealed that they quit, which was why season four was scrapped at the last minute.

Since getting to know Yasmine, I can't help but think of how her talents were wasted on Popular Besties. A lot of actors who debuted on Teen Scene have mixed feelings regarding their breakout roles and have since then moved on to better things. Yasmine still acts occasionally, though she's slowly phasing away from the entertainment industry. She says she's still not quite sure what direction she wants to go in but grad school's a start as well as continuing to pursue motorcycle racing.

Nathan has got a look at Yasmine's motorcycle collection and as expected, he was impressed. We don't know too much about those kinds of things but we know an impressive collection when we see one. I'm glad that they're getting along well - Yasmine's the type who easily becomes friends with everyone, even with people you'd think she wouldn't have much in common with. It's not that she and Nate are opposites but they come from completely different circles so it's unlikely that their paths would ever cross.

Things in Astra are pretty much the same for Nathan, and that's the way he and his family like it. He did mention that he visited Evan's grave for the first time in months, a kinda spur of the moment thing he didn't expect to do. He said he was reading a case study for a class that stirred up some memories so he had to step back when it became too much. Then he found himself at the cemetery and that kinda helped, or at least it grounded him. He told his therapist about it and she said some things that has left him thinking about the past.

I hope that one day he'll finally find peace with that. Nathan's come a long way since we first met and while what happened to his brother still hangs over him, at least he no longer beats himself up over it. That's why he wants to help people, to prevent tragedies like Evan, to save those going through a downward spiral no matter how far gone or beyond saving they think they are.

Dello and Donna have been up to the usual as well, shenanigans and all. Easton's hanging out with Rolly a lot so now they're best friends. Edie's happy about that as she mentioned that before Rolly, Easton didn't have too many close friends his age, probably because he's used to being around those older than him. Stork pops in often as usual and it's never a dull moment when he's around. We got to video chat with Louise and the kids, which was nice. They're all having a great time out on the road, sightseeing like we are.

Philly asked Nathan and Yasmine about Astra as he wants to go to grad school and is always looking far ahead in the future. Tally, as expected, asked about the garnet buds in hopes of using Tally Inc. to make a profit. Dello promised Rosie to bring home some sweet treats, particularly the pink moonberry daifuku a local cafe is famous for. Molly and her friends popped in for a bit just to say hi as well so it was nice to catch up with everyone.

The Clanwings are what most would consider an eccentric family. In a way, they kinda remind me of the McManns, except a lot bigger. Apparently they're kinda distantly related so I guess that explains the similarities. Both heads of the families are rich old men who happen to have a late younger sister, both who have twins who are left to keep an eye on their uncles. The uncles tend to get in trouble during their adventures so a lot of people end up mixing the families up.

Strangely though, even though I know Rocky, Chrissie, Dello, and Donna and they all know each other, I've never hung out with all four of them at once. Like I've known them for years and they live in Cityburg so you'd think at some point I'd meet up with Chrissie and Donna or Dello and Rocky on separate occasions but it hasn't happened yet. I mean it will (should) happen one day but I just find it funny that it hasn't.

Speaking of Rocky and Chrissie, we talked about them a bit. Dello said he dropped by to see Rocky and Lex before coming here. We joke that Rocky and Lex should tie the knot before baby #3 comes along, especially now that they're engaged but with no wedding date set yet. They've been pretty much following Dello and Louise with the whole having two kids before getting married. Though from the looks of it, I don't think Rocky and Lex plan on adding another family member anytime soon, if ever.

I don't know how Dello and Louise did it, having four kids roughly a year apart. Rosie and Lessi are 14 months apart, both were pre-marriage, Lessi and Cissy are about a year and a half apart being the widest age gap, then Cissy and Rolly, aka the planned post marriage ones, at 10 months because Rolly came early. So basically Louise was on and off pregnant for 4-5 years, which is insane.

As for Donna, she had the boys and that was it. Before that, it was apparently rumored that the Clanwings were at risk of dying out since Dello and Donna were the only heirs left as for some reason the family members are against marriage, or at least have no interest in it. At this point Dello's the only living Clanwing who's married, but even he and Louise were on the fence about marriage for a while.

So we met up at this place called the Pink Daifuku and enjoyed a bunch of sweet treats. The peach mochi cakes are my favorite as well as the green garnet rose tea. We also shared a bottle of sweet white wine infused with garnet bamboos, which add an interesting flavor. I think this is the sweetest wine I've ever tasted - it's good but a bit too overpowering, something that would probably be paired better with a meal instead of desserts or alone.

Tomorrow we're gonna visit the Diamond Winery to try some more garnet wines and see how they're made. The winery's on one of the top places to visit in the Garnet Bamboo Peninsula because it has a gorgeous view of the cliffs and it's the only place where garnet wines are made. Dello and Donna are into that kind of stuff so of course they'd want to check it out. Yasmine said she always wanted to try the garnet champagne while Nathan and I are looking forward to taking a bunch of nice pics as well as the free wine samples.

After the cafe we rented some bikes and explored the Waybright Plains trail. There, we looked at the ruins and collected some garnet bamboo. Something about Waybright feels eerie, then again that's how most abandoned places feel like. Exploring ruins up close and personal is always an interesting experience.

We tried to solve something that looked like a puzzle involving the torches but couldn't figure it out. I think we were close though as we managed to light all but one of the torches up. Well, I was never really good at puzzles anyway, and maybe it's probably for the best that we didn't activate what was in there. I mean, I doubt it's like a trap or something, but it is kinda weird that a device like that still works and is just left out in the open. Dello was right to be a bit iffy about it, especially from personal experience.

Yeah, as tempting as it can be, I think we're better off leaving those alone. I don't want to be responsible for causing a catastrophe by messing around with something I shouldn't have.

Time flies quickly when you're wandering the corridors of old ruins. It's easy to get lost in a place like this - I'm surprised that we managed to stay together the whole time. And not only that, but we also managed not to set off any traps or have any accidents along the way so another win. Then again, these ruins are open to the public so that obviously wouldn't be a problem or else we wouldn't have been able to just freely walk in.

For the trip back, we took the scenic route. The trails are super well lit so there's no worries about it getting too dark - and we were out pretty late. Riding around the peninsula at night has a different vibe than in the daytime. I think it's the glow of the lanterns that add to this sorta dreamy, disconnected vibe that makes it so chill. Plus the trails aren't as busy at this time of night so it's just us and the garnet bamboo. If it weren't for the mosquitos, I'd go on nighttime hikes more often.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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krisdreaming · 4 years

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🎄 4th Day of Fluffmas 🎄

⟵ Day 3 | Masterlist | Day 5 ⟶

All the Way Home I’ll be Warm || Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Word count: 3,813 (oops?) | Gender neutral reader

(prompt: “I sort of told my family I have an s/o and now I need someone to stand in for them – HELP”)

Day 0 (Briefing)

Kuroo is sitting across from you at the little cafe on campus, and for some reason he actually seems to be looking forward to the next few days. He even brought a notebook, but you can’t tell if he’s being serious about taking notes or if this is all part of the act. You had asked him because you knew he was always down to help you out with your late night adventures and crazy schemes, but this one might just be the craziest.

“Okay boss, what’s the plan?” He props his elbows on the table and leans closer to you. “Actually, before we get into that, I think I’m going to need a little back story. Why, exactly, do you need a fake boyfriend?”

“Well, you see...” You lift your mug closer to your face and peer into it for a moment. “It just gets really old having everyone ask about it at every family gathering, you know? I know I shouldn’t have lied but how was I supposed to know they would insist that I bring my boyfriend to Grandma’s?” You shoot Kuroo an apologetic smile.

“And that’s where I come in.” He finishes. You nod.

“I’m curious.” He props his cheek on his fist. “How long is our relationship going to last? Are we meant to be?” He flashes you a cheeky grin, and you duck your head. Okay, maybe asking someone you already (possibly) have feelings for to be your fake boyfriend might not have been the best idea, but it’s too late to back out now.

“Actually, I have a feeling that next year, you’re going to leave to study abroad. We’ll probably make a mutual decision to end our relationship because we don’t want to deal with the long distance.” You laugh. “Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a repeat gig.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through.” Kuroo actually does write something down in his notebook. “So, do we have any cute nicknames for each other?”

“Hmm.” You hum in thought. “Probably nothing too crazy. We’ve only been dating for four months.”

He nods sagely. “Well, you can call me Tetsurou, I don’t mind. Or Tetsu.” He adds quickly. For a brief moment, you consider it.

“Oh, ah. I’ll stick with Tetsurou. Sounds good.” You manage a quick smile. “You can call me F/N.”

“You got it.” He makes another quick note. “Do we have a safe word?”

“A what?” You almost choke on the sip of coffee you’d just taken.

“A safe word.” He repeats. “You know, if things get too weird, we can use it to tell the other person to chill out.” You nod slowly. That was one thing you haven’t thought of. “If we’re just calling each other by our names, how about we just call each other Babe if we start to get uncomfortable? Will that make it worse?”

“No, it’s a good idea.” You nod. “Yeah, I’m cool with that.” You shake your head. “This is so weird, dude, I’m sorry.”

He laughs. “This is one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done. If this works out I might switch to a theater major.”

“No way, I think Chem might eat me alive if you leave me.” You grimace. “You’re the only reason I passed our lab last semester.”

“Kidding.” He finishes the last swallow of his coffee. “There’s no money in theater anyway, and if I switched majors I’d probably have to drag you with me. I’m too used to having you around.” He grins, a more sincere smile this time, and you can’t help but return it.

“Well, that’s good, because you’re stuck with me. And just to warn you,” You have to change the subject before you get too flustered. “My Grandma is going to show you every single photo she’s ever taken of me. At Thanksgiving, it took her almost an hour to get through them with my cousin’s girlfriend.”

“Aw, little baby Y/N.” Kuroo laughs. “I might enjoy this too much.” He pushes back his chair, and you stand too. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” The early winter darkness has already fallen.

“Sure, thanks.” You fall into step beside him, stepping outside for the chilly walk across campus.

“Thanks for helping me out.” You add, your words puffing steam into the air. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” He knocks his arm against yours. “To be honest, after all this talk about your Grandma’s cooking, I might have tagged along even if I didn’t have to pretend to be your boyfriend.” He laughs.

“You certainly won’t go hungry.” You agree. “She’ll make sure of that. Don’t blame me if it affects your volleyball physique.”

“Don’t worry, I’m naturally slender.” He pats his middle. “I’ve got the quickest metabolism you’ve ever seen.”

You shake your head. “If you say so.” By now, you’ve reached your dorm. “Oh, by the way!” You call out as he turns to go. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you can do about your hair?”

He turns back to face you. “Not a thing. Many have tried, none have succeeded.” He runs his hand through it and makes it stand even more on end.

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “They’ll have to deal. See you tomorrow.”

“Later!” He lifts his hand in farewell and turns to go. For a few more moments you stand and watch his retreating back. These next two days might be harder than you thought.

Day 1

“Here we are.” You announce as Kuroo gets out of his car and grabs his bag. You each drove your own car, and he’s parked right behind you in your Grandma’s driveway. “Ready for this?”

“Ready as ever.” He slings his bag over his shoulder. “Lead on.” You reach for the door, and before you can turn the handle it swings open with your Dad and Grandma behind it.

“Merry Christmas!” Your Grandma pulls you into a tight hug, and you breathe in the familiar scent of rose and sugar cookies. “Come in, come in.” She releases you and is immediately locked on Kuroo, who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“Oh my.” She looks up at him with a huge grin on her face. “Aren’t you quite the handsome young man! Just look at how tall he is.” She turns to your Dad, who has given you a quick hug and is now quickly sizing up Kuroo.

“Dad, Grandma, this is Kuroo Tetsurou.” He gives you a quick prompting glance. “My boyfriend.” You add, already feeling your cheeks grow warm at saying the words out loud.

“Nice to meet you.” Your Dad reaches out and catches Kuroo’s hand in a firm handshake.

“It’s great to meet you sir.” Your Dad must approve of the handshake, because he gives Kuroo a nod and a smile.

“Come here.” Grandma gestures, and Kuroo leans down to be enveloped in a hug.

“Thank you for having me, Ma’am.” Kuroo says the moment he’s released. A pleased grin breaks across her face.

“What a polite young man. Honey, it looks like you’ve found a good one.” She pats your shoulder.

“Guess so.” You smile.

“Well now, come, let me show you to your room.” You feel your eyes grow wide, and when she has turned her back you look at Kuroo and mouth room?? As in, singular? He gives the slightest of shrugs, and you follow her upstairs.

“Now, normally I would make sure you each have your own room, but we’re a bit full right now, and besides. I guess you’re all grown up now, aren’t you?” She gives you a fond smile and you survey the guest room she’s assigned to the two of you. A queen sized bed is the only sleeping surface in the room.

Luckily for you, Kuroo doesn’t miss a beat. “Thank you, this looks great.” He plops his duffel bag on the bed, and you follow suit.

“Thanks Grandma.” You echo.

“Dinner is at 6. Some of your cousins are here already, go find them once you’re settled in!” She bustles out to get back to her kitchen, and you let out a sigh.

“Sorry.” You grimace. “I figured there was no way we’d have to share a bed.”

“Hey, no big deal.” Kuroo shrugs. “I mean, it’s a huge bed. I’m not worried about it.” Realization dawns on his face. “But I’ll sleep on the floor if it’s weird for you.”

“Oh, no. No. That’s fine with me too. I’m good.” You manage a smile that you hope is reassuring. You and your brilliant ideas. You silently scold yourself. “Come on, let’s go find my cousins.”

It isn’t much of a surprise that your cousins adore Kuroo. He has them all laughing before you know it. One of them turns to you. “How did you get lucky enough to find someone like him?”

Kuroo doesn’t miss a beat and slings his arm around your shoulders. You hope your flinch at the sudden contact isn’t too obvious. “I’m the lucky one, actually. Completely random lab assignment on the first day of the semester, and the rest is history.” He grins at you, and you laugh, finally reacting enough to slide your arm around his back. It’s not like you’ve never casually hugged before, but this feels a little different.

“Aww! That’s so adorable.” Your cousins all titter amongst themselves, and luckily, you’re saved at that moment by your Grandma announcing that dinner is ready.

Around the dinner table, the rest of the introductions take place. Kuroo easily answers the different questions asked of him about volleyball and his major. Soon, though, conversation turns to other things.

“So, Kuroo.” Your jokester uncle speaks up right as dessert is being brought to the table, and you’re already cringing. “Any thoughts on marriage?” Kuroo has his glass lifted to his lips, and he ends up spitting half of the water back into it as a coughing fit overtakes him. He recovers remarkably quickly and sets down his glass.

“Well, sir, we are still in college. For now we’re focusing on our studies.” He sends you a quick glance. Your uncle laughs loudly. You rest your hand on Kuroo’s arm in a way you hope is reassuring.

“I’m just messing with you, son. We’re all glad to have you here.”

“I’m glad to be here.” He nods. For some reason, this seems to be the first thing that’s actually shaken him. You give him a long glance with an eyebrow raised, but he just shakes his head ever so slightly, giving you a quick smile.

Everyone is still around the table chatting as your Grandma and aunts clear the dishes away, and before you know it she returns with a suspiciously familiar album in hand and a dastardly gleam in her eyes. The woman is ruthless.

“Oh, Kuroo-kun, I have some photos of y/n as a child if you’d like to see them! Ah, such a sweet child.” She hugs the album to her chest.

“You know, I would love to see them.” Kuroo sends you the biggest shit-eating grin he can muster, and you pout. He must have recovered from earlier. All you can do is sit helplessly beside him as your Grandma flips through the album page by page, going over each photo you appear in with excruciating detail. Kuroo is enjoying it a little too much, but you suppose it’s a small price to pay for what you’re putting him through.

Finally, the torture is over and everyone begins to turn in for the night. Pajamas on, you sit on the very edge of the bed mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you wait for Kuroo to finish in the bathroom.

“Well, that was an experience.” He appears, rubbing a towel on his still-damp hair.

“I’m sorry about my uncle!” You quickly blurt out. “He’s always saying stupid stuff like that.”

Kuroo waves his hand as though brushing it off. “It’s fine. Just caught me off guard. Marriage wasn’t in my notes.” He laughs. “You using that extra pillow?” He gestures to the spare on top of the dresser.

“All yours.” You say, finally crawling under the covers, as close to the edge on your side of the bed as you can get.

“So.” Kuroo gets in on his own side, arranging the pillows to his liking. “Think everyone’s buying it?”

You shrug. “Seems like it. You’re doing great. I never knew you were such a natural.”

“Yeah, well.” He looks away from you suddenly. “Neither did I. Guess I’m just a man of many talents.” He meets your gaze again and grins. “You’re not doing too bad yourself.”

You laugh weakly. “Thanks.” For a few moments, an awkward silence fills the room. “Well, goodnight.” You finally say, reaching over to turn out the light.

“Night.” He echoes back before smushing his face down into his pillows. It’s not the first time you’ve witnessed his sleeping habits, but it’s not something you can get used to so easily.

As he’d promised earlier, the bed is so large that the two of you aren’t touching at all, but there’s something about the sound of his breathing next to you that keeps you from falling asleep immediately.

Day 2

When the sun peeking through the blinds wakes you the next morning, you almost forget the exact circumstances you’re in. You slowly roll over as you wake up, and you almost yelp aloud at the sight of Kuroo laying next to you, silently scrolling through his phone.

“Oh, morning.” He whispers. The last traces of sleep are still in his voice, and he has marks on his face from where the pillow creases dug into his cheeks. You swallow hard, trying not to stare for too long. He looks softer this way.

“Morning.” You whisper back. “You sleep alright?”

“Like a baby.” He confirms. “Must be the bed, I slept better than I usually do.”

“You’re almost free.” You change the subject, because you don’t want to admit that you also slept better than usual - after you finally fell asleep, that is. “I told Grandma you’d be leaving after the gift exchange this afternoon.”

“Sounds good to me.” He nods, sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Think there’s any coffee made?”

“Always is.” You grin, and the two of you make your way to the kitchen. Your Grandma and aunt are already there, chatting softly, so you pour each of you a mug and retreat to the empty living room.

“This is really nice.” Kuroo comments when you’re situated on the couch. “Your family is awesome. You’re pretty lucky.”

“I know.” You nod. “they’re crazy, but they’re mine.”

“I’m really glad you invited me along.” He says. “I know it’s a weird reason, but being part of your Christmas is kind of cool.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” You admit. “You fit in really well with them. They’re going to ask about you later, you know.”

“What can I say, I’m a popular guy.” He grins. “Maybe I’ll put off studying abroad for another year so I can come back again.”

“Maybe I’ll have a real boyfriend next year.” You’d meant it as a joke, but something changes on Kuroo’s face and you instantly regret saying it.

“Maybe.” He finally says, giving you the smallest of smiles. Before you can say anything more, your Grandma calls for breakfast.

It’s a lazy morning, and whatever strange thing had happened between you before breakfast, you both manage to ignore it. A game of team Monopoly ensues, and after Kuroo learns your family’s amended rules for the game he gets surprisingly into it. He’s back to his normal self, laughing and teasing you as you play. As it gets down to the last tense rounds between the two of you and your cousin and his girlfriend, he shuffles your money around.

“I can pull this off.” He murmurs to you. “$2,000 on Park Place, and-” his trap pays off, and your cousin gets stuck there and is forced to forfeit his entire savings to the two of you. “Victory!” He crows, and in his excitement he presses a firm kiss to your cheek. Instantly, your entire body is warm. You inhale sharply.

“Um, Babe.” You whisper, not really sure why this has affected you so much.

“I am so sorry.” Instantly, concern is written across his face. “I just got really excited.” He looks around, but no one is paying you much attention. Your cousin and his girlfriend have already gone off to scrounge for a snack. “I’m sorry.” He says again, gripping your arm. “That was way overstepping.”

“No, it’s fine. It wasn’t even a big deal.” You’re starting to relax, so you brush it off. “It just surprised me, that’s all. I’m fine.” He nods. He’s still quiet, though, and you can tell that it’s bothering him.

It’ll all be over soon, though. You only hope that things can go back to normal after this. The thought of losing your entire friendship with Kuroo over one of your crazy schemes makes you feel almost sick to your stomach.

Finally, it’s time for the gift exchange. Your family is gathered around in a circle, and the younger cousins are working on sorting through the gifts beneath the tree. “Okay everyone.” Your Grandma brings her hands together. “Let’s go around and talk about the good things that have happened this year.” It’s the yearly tradition. One by one, your family members share about fun vacations and promotions at work, anything that happened over the year that stood out to them as special.

Finally, it gets around to Kuroo. “We can skip you, if you want.” You say quickly. “I know it’s kinda weird.”

“Nah, no way!” He shakes his head. “I had a pretty great year, I might as well share about it a little bit.” He pauses, and now he’s looking fully at you. You bite down on your lip. “I met a pretty amazing person this year.” He begins. “We have so much fun together. They’re really special to me.” Murmurs go through the room, and you can see smiles growing on your family members’ faces. “I really mean that, Y/N. I can’t imagine my life without you.” Somehow, you can tell that this isn’t part of the charade. His expression is completely genuine, and his smile is filling his eyes.

“Wow.” Is all you can say, softly. “Thank you, Tetsurou.” Everyone’s eyes are on you, and you realize it’s your turn to share. You clear your throat.

“I had a pretty great year, too. I passed Chem lab which is a miracle in itself.” You chuckle lightly, still feeling a little unsettled by Kuroo’s declaration. “And I met a really great guy, too.” You shyly glance in Kuroo’s direction, and he nods in encouragement. “He’s my best friend, and I wouldn’t choose to be here with anyone else right now.” You mean every word, from the bottom of your heart.

With that, your turn is over, and your cousin’s girlfriend starts to share about the vacation they took to Italy over the summer, but you aren’t really paying attention. You’re too busy trying to untangle everything that has happened so far today. Is it possible...? You can’t even dare to ask yourself the question.

Soon enough, the presents are opened, the wrapping paper has been cleaned up, and your uncle is sacked out on the sofa, snoring away. Kuroo gets to his feet.

“Well, I think it’s about time I head out.” He stretches his arms over his head. “I’ll go grab my things.” He disappears for a few moments, and you wander over to the foot of the stairs to meet him when he returns.

“I want to go thank your Grandma.” He says, motioning toward the kitchen. You nod and follow behind him. “Hey, I’m leaving for home now.” He announces to your Grandma and two aunts who are in the kitchen. “But thank you so much for everything. The food was amazing, and I had a great time with your family. Thank you for making me feel welcome.”

“Oh.” Your Grandma waves her hand dismissively. “You deserve it. It’s obvious you make my grandchild very happy.” She smiles at you. “Thank you for coming, it was truly a pleasure to meet you. I hope we’ll see you again.” It’s a good thing she isn’t watching your face as she says that. Kuroo’s grin doesn’t waver.

“Thanks again.” He says with a wave as he ducks out of the kitchen. As you head outside, a chorus of goodbyes follows behind you. The moment the door closes, Kuroo releases a heavy sigh. “Whew.”

“Are you glad it’s over?” You ask hesitantly, standing by his car as he tosses his bag in the backseat.

“I really did have a great time.” He says, making no move to get in his car. “But I have to tell you something.” You nod slowly, and he reaches for your hands. “Is this okay?” You nod again.

“Yeah.” You manage, barely above a whisper.

“I’m really sorry I got so weird earlier. It’s just what you said about having a real boyfriend next year... Y/N, I want to be your real boyfriend. And I probably should have told you that before we even left school, but I couldn’t find the words. I never thought someone like you existed. I had a stupid crush on you for so long. So... What do you say?” He looks at you expectantly.

“I would like that a lot.” You say, a grin growing across your face before you can stop it. You take a deep breath. “I guess I asked you to be my fake boyfriend because it was a hell of a lot easier than asking you to be my real boyfriend. It was stupid.”

“Good.” He says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Then that’s all that matters.” With that, he cups your face with his palm, slowly leaning in. “Oh. Can I...?”

“Yes.” You giggle, and he doesn’t waste any time in kissing you, soft and sweet. He pulls away, only to lean in for one more kiss.

“For the road.” He say softly, a huge smile on his face. He wraps you up in a tight hug. “I’ll see you after break. Call me tonight maybe?”

“Definitely.” You agree as he slowly steps away. “I’ll see you.” You lift your hand in a wave as he gets in his car and drives away, and for a few moments you just stand in the driveway, watching until his car is out of sight. When you turn to go back inside, all three of your cousins are at the window. One of them winks at you. You stick out your tongue at them, but right now you don’t even have room to feel annoyed.

#Haikyuu #Haikyuu imagines #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurou x reader #Kuroo x reader #fluffmas #Haikyuu x reader #queued

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chocoluckchipz · 4 years

Text

The Other You - 8

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Before he was cursed with the sinking ship of his father’s company, Adrien loved to sleep in on the weekends. Now, he was lucky to get even half of what he’d usually slept, considering that in addition to his work at Gabriel, it was also the end of the spring semester at his school and the workload was overwhelming. Just a little longer, though, and he’d be free to focus on his ‘help Marinette and finally atone for your sins’ mission full-time. Adrien could hardly wait, which was a little weird considering how much stuff he’d have to learn and do to make that happen.

“What are you grinning about?” Plagg yawned, floating out of his bed-bucket.

Adrien stretched. “Nothing in particular. Just that things are finally starting to look brighter.”

“Lying to your girlfriend to get food out of her is bright?” Plagg scoffed, flying away to the kitchen.

“I haven’t told a single lie, and she isn’t my girlfriend.”

“You kissed her, and you liked it.”

“Can you let it go, Plagg? We’ve talked about this. It wasn’t—”

“Man, she’s going to hate you even more when she finds out who exactly was kissing her.”

Adrien glared at the pesky creature. “That’s why we aren’t telling her, Plagg.”

“She’ll find out eventually,” the kwami shrugged, stuffing his mouth with his morning dose of Camembert. “Better get ready for it instead of denying the obvious.”

With a growl, Adrien flopped back into his sheets. Pushing Plagg’s words aside, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on his schedule for today. First work, then lunch with Nino, and then… more work. He couldn’t afford to have his weekends off anymore.

“Oh, I know,” Plagg mumbled, finishing his wheel of cheese. “Your high school crush on Princess is coming back. That’s why you’re making dumb decisions—"

“I did not have a crush on Marinette,” Adrien said, sitting up. “I’ve always loved Ladybug.”

“Sure,” Plagg smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“That’s the truth.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Plagg countered, his arms on his hips. “You could afford all the croissants in the world, yet you kept abusing your powers and going to her balcony for treats.”

“That’s because her pastries were amazing, and Marinette was a great company. But that doesn’t mean I had a crush on her.”

“Sure. That’s why you tried to spend as much time as possible with her. And not as Chat only, but as Adrien as well. Ugh! All those blushes and cutesy stuff.” Plagg shivered. “Disgusting.”

“It wasn’t like that, Plagg. We were just friends.”

“And don’t get me started on this whole ‘helping her’ business,” the kwami continued to grumble. “I told you it was insane even then, didn’t I? But no! You had to risk everything for her. Look where it got you. And how did she thank you? She took your heart and trampled it under her feet.”

Adrien fell silent.

“That’s why you didn’t try hard enough to reach out after they cut you off. It wasn’t only your pride that got bruised. Your heart got broken as well.”

“You can think whatever you want,” Adrien mumbled quietly, getting out of bed. “But having a close friend doesn’t mean I have a crush on her. My heart has always belonged to Ladybug.”

Plagg groaned in exasperation and flew off. Adrien went about his morning routine, pushing aside Plagg’s ridiculous claims and letting his thoughts race back to Nino. The prospect of meeting with his former best friend left him confused at best. Thrilled? Not exactly. More like nervous? Anxious? But nevertheless, kind of glad because the rejection and the refusal to let him at least explain himself still stung. Adrien spent years being bitter and resentful about that and had a lot to say. And today he was going to say everything because he didn’t really care about the way this meeting would go. He wasn’t looking to renew the friendship. An explanation, closure and the strength to move on: that was all Adrien wanted.

The day went by tortuously slowly. Hiring a new assistant for Marinette was Adrien’s top priority, but it was proving to be rather difficult. She needed someone highly experienced at this point and not a lot of qualified people wanted to work with a seemingly doomed company Gabriel had become. Scratch “a lot”. “None” would fit better. And to change that would require a ton of work, the size of Adrien was only now starting to realize. He did his best, but even he had his limits and needed breaks to stay sane. That was why, as soon as the clock struck a quarter to noon, Adrien zoomed out of his office and almost sprinted to a nearby café. Five minutes early, he wasn’t surprised to see Nino already there. His former best friend was always one to be on time.

Adrien halted his steps. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He should have refused. Surely, he can help Marinette without Nino. No need to rip the old wounds open and let them bleed unnecessarily.

Before he could change his mind though, Nino stood up, looking his way. Awkwardly, the pair watched each other for a few moments from a distance until Nino motioned Adrien to sit at his table.

“Do you want small talk, or we could just—”

“Let’s skip it,” Adrien shrugged, settling in the chair.

“Straight to the issue?”

“Why not?”

“I’m all for it.”

“Me too.”

“Would you like to order?” a waiter interrupted.

Both men nodded in unison and took their time placing orders. After the waiter left, no one rushed to break the silence.

“So,” Nino finally gave in. “If we aren’t holding back and telling as it is… I still think you acted like a jerk, but I do owe you an apology because your intuition was right. Working with your father did ruin Marinette’s life. And that…” Nino inhaled deeply, “might actually be an understatement.”

Adrien sighed. “I saw tragedies happen too many times to do nothing. People had nervous breakdowns over a stupid deadline that was set a few days earlier than the actual one anyway. Or over an outfit that was added to the collection at the last minute and the fabric had to be personally flown in from Tibet. Many were doing the work of two or three on a tight schedule because their assistants couldn’t take it anymore and quit. So, just thinking that one of my closest friends could end up in that place… I couldn’t let that happen to her.” Adrien paused, his eyes focusing on the napkin he fidgeted with. “I only tried to protect her from that hell. Nothing else.”

“I can see now why you wanted her away from Gabriel, but you could’ve gone about it a different way, one that didn’t involve sneaking behind her back.”

Adrien nodded. “That’s on me. I should’ve done it differently. But you should've let me explain instead of cutting me off without warning.”

“What are you talking about?” Nino quirked an eyebrow. “You were the one who didn't want anything to do with us.”

“If by me trying to reach you for weeks, begging to let me explain and apologize is what you consider—”

“Let me stop you right there,” Nino interrupted, raising his hand. “What weeks are we talking about here? You sent us a single message in the chatroom that same day before quitting it, and in it, you spelled quite clearly that you had neither desire nor time for such ‘crappy friends’ as us anymore because apparently we neither did nor could understand and support you. Why do you think I never contacted you in all those years? Yes, I was angry with you, but all I needed was time to chill down and think. I would’ve reached out for that explanation eventually. You were my best bud, Adrien. I would’ve never just cut you off like I did unless you wanted that. Unless you asked me to do that, ‘lest I accidentally stumble upon an unwelcome reminder’ if I didn’t block you on all platforms.”

Adrien stared at Nino in confusion. “What are you talking about? I never sent any of you anything like that. I never quit the chatroom. You kicked me out. The three of you were my best friends, and you know how few of those I had. Why on Earth would I ask you to cut me off?”

“Your food, gentlemen.” The waiter placed plates before the men, giving Nino time to reach for his cell phone, open it on a particular screen and pass it to Adrien.

“Take a read for yourself. I’m sure you remember this. No one but the four of us had access to this chatroom, and the message is clearly sent from your account, following the notification that you left the chat.”

Adrien froze, his eyebrows slowly knitting into a frown as he read the words on the screen. Once done, he blankly stared at the device for a few moments before leaning back into his seat. “I didn’t write this. I didn't leave on my own. There has to have been a mistake.”

“Like what? Someone hacked you?”

“I can’t really say,” Adrien frowned. “From my end, I was just kicked out of the chat and blocked everywhere that same evening. Though, I hadn't discovered it until a bit later since I thought giving you time to calm down was a good idea.”

“So you knew we blocked you and still claim you were trying to reach out?”

“I hoped that at least one of you would unblock me eventually and I’d be able to explain.”

Nino huffed. “Why didn't you just seek us out in person?”

“I was busy moving out and working, and Chloe said if you didn't want to talk to me online, you wouldn't want to see me in person.”

Nino raised an eyebrow. “Chloe?”

Adrien shrugged, looking away. “No one else was around to give me advice, and it’s not like she sounded unreasonable.”

They fell in silence for a moment. Nino picked up his fork and started to eat, Adrien following his suit. A few minutes later, Nino asked, “Ever left your phone around her unattended?”

His thoughts rushing back to the past, Adrien nodded. “Never had a reason not to trust her that much.”

“Does she, by any chance, know your password?”

Adrien shrugged. “I never personally gave it to her, but it's not like I hid it either.”

Nino waited until he finished chewing his next bite to comment. “We both know Chloe is capable of sending those messages and quitting the chat on your behalf. She never liked us being friends, and it was awfully out of character of you.”

“That’s a valid possibility.”

Nino focused on his meal for a few more moments before asking, “ You swear you didn’t send those?”

Adrien leaned backwards in his seat. “On my mother’s name.”

Sighing heavily, Nino closed his eyes. “This is so messed up. This whole situation is just… so messed up. And what do we do now?”

"I don’t know," Adrien murmured, looking to the side.

“I guess I owe you another apology.” Nino cleared his throat. “I won’t apologize for getting angry at you. For the way you went about the whole Marinette thing, you deserved it. However, I am sorry for believing you could have sent that message and cutting you off without giving you a chance to defend yourself. I should’ve known you better than that.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien replied. “I do admit I could’ve used a better way to protect Marinette, and I guess I should’ve tried harder to reach out too, instead of assuming you abandoned me at the first opportunity. I’m sorry as well.”

“I appreciate it.” Nino shifted in his chair, picking up his coffee mug. “So, what next?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t know? Maybe, let’s start with why you contacted me all of the sudden after all those years? I assume you need info on Marinette?”

“I did, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Nino shrugged. “Alya’s finally gotten through to her, and they’re having lunch as we speak.”

“So technically we didn’t have to meet?”

“Technically no. But since you already agreed to come, I wanted…” he paused to muse for a second before giving Adrien a shy smile. “Actually, I'm not sure what I wanted, but I was curious to see you again.”

“I hope your curiosity was satisfied?”

“My curiosity is wondering why you look so exhausted on Saturday afternoon?”

“Got a little more than I can handle on my plate at the moment.”

Nino hesitated but still asked, “Need some help?”

“I wish you could help me,” Adrien chuckled. “Thank you, but unless you know how to run a fashion empire, I don't think that's a viable option.”

“I am a quick learner. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Adrien swallowed. He hadn't been looking for a renewal of their friendship when he was coming here, but… Sitting here, talking to Nino again after all these years, seeing how little he had changed, how caring and understanding and just cool Nino still was… Adrien wondered. “I can always use a friend. I still don’t have many of those… If you want to of course.”

Nino smiled. “Even after everything?”

“I don't think I ever got over you,” Adrien dramatically sighed.

Nino chuckled. “You’re too kind for this world, Adrien. I hope you know that.”

“I did have a friend who used to tell me that all the time. Without him in my life, I haven't heard this in years.”

“I can fill his shoes again if you’re really sure about this.”

“I’m not delusional to think this would be easy. Rebuilding something is bound to have its own issues, especially in our situation.”

“But we can always try.”

“We can.”

Nino stretched his hand to Adrien. “I missed you, bro.”

A smile on his face, Adrien accepted the handshake. “I miss you too, Nino.”

***

With his unexpectedly successful lunch the previous day on his mind, Adrien wanted nothing less than to spend his Sunday visiting the mansion. He’d stalled as much as he could, shopping for groceries, doing his laundry, and even visiting work for half a day. Once the evening drew near, though, he couldn’t excuse himself anymore. An hour’s walk along the Seine helped Adrien come to grips with what he had to do, and soon, he was standing in front of the house he once called home.

“If you don’t want to do it, don’t do it,” Plagg grumbled from his collar.

“I promised Marinette. I have to.”

“Then do it and stop whining.”

Adrien groaned. “You aren’t any help, Plagg.”

“Being helpful isn’t in my job description,” Plagg muttered and relocated to Adrien’s bag. “Wake me up when you’re done standing around, pointlessly staring at the front door.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped as he sighed dejectedly. Fishing the key out of his pocket, he forced himself to open the door before he could change his mind.

He hadn’t visited ever since he moved out. When his father was alive, it was out of the question. They never reconciled. And after Gabriel's death, his lawyer handled all the necessary procedures without the younger Agreste having to take a single step inside the mansion. It would be put up for sale soon, but for now, Gabriel's possessions were still untouched in the places he’d left them.

Adrien quickly walked through the empty, cold hallway to his father’s office. It hadn’t changed at all: minimalist furnishing, clean design, barren of any comfort and warmth. He paused at his mother’s portrait, making a note to claim it for himself. It was a beautiful piece. His sight shifted to his father’s desk. A few folders and a couple of random things lying atop it. A dead plant in the corner right behind.

Adrien sat in his father’s chair and looked through the folders. None of them were what Marinette needed. He reached for a drawer in the table. Inside were more folders and a slim white box. Pushing the box out of the way, Adrien took the folders out. To his relief, three of those were exactly what he came here for.

“Perfect.” Adrien exhaled and tried to shove the remaining folders back into the drawer. Something was obstructing them. He reached in and pulled the white box out. It was nothing unique, really. A regular box his Father used for his jewelry collection… Yet, even after the files were back in their place, Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off it. Something about the box was just so enigmatic. Something drew him in. Something he couldn’t explain.

He carefully took the lid off.

A bright electric orb exploded in front of him, and a little purple kwami with wings emerged. At first, its eyes were lowered to the floor, but once the creature looked up they widened, mouth falling open.

“Ma-Master?”

“Nooroo! Old pal!” Plagg zoomed out from Adrien’s bag and crushed the little guy in his embrace. “So that’s where you were hiding all this time?”

“Plagg?” Nooroo squeaked.

“Nooroo?” Adrien echoed.

“Yup, my old pal, Nooroo,” Plagg punched the purple kwami’s shoulder. “Hawkmoth’s kwami.”

Adrien sharply inhaled.

Nooroo looked at him and quietly asked, “Where is my Master?”

Adrien could hardly breathe. “What’s the name of your Master?”

"We can't say the names of our wielders to others,” Plagg answered instead. “Some magic stuff I don’t really care about.”

“Can you point to his picture?” Adrien whispered, staring at Nooroo in shock, dreading to hear the answer he suspected he already knew.

Nooroo nodded and stretched his tiny hand in the direction of their family portrait. “The older man,” the kwami said quietly as the world shuddered beneath Adrien’s feet.

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #ml fanfiction #adrien agreste #Nino lahiffe #nooroo #the other you #adrienette #Aged-up #angst with a happy end #myart #my art

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fictional-worlds-are-exquisite · 3 years

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i am out there!! i'm glad you liked it! i'm definitely trying out the recipe you left in the tags. it sounds way better than just banana and peanut butter. i always have to pay a lot of attention when i type banana because i've ended up with "bananana" way too many times

i was planning to run straight to your askbox the second i saw you replied but then the end of the semester happened and it killed me. hopefully i'm done with it now

i do exactly the same thing with height! if you tell me your height in feet i have absolutely no idea how tall that is. if you say that in centimetres that's easy. i mean you're 155cm so that's 12cm shorter than me. when you told me that in feet i was like okay cool i have no idea how much shorter than actually is

i love birds!!! so that seems awesome! i am now titling you the queen of birds. and i'm glad your vacation was good! i think i saw a couple of posts you made about it so it definitely does seem like a lot of fun! and did you ever figure out completely what that see through animal (?) in the sand was? i had no idea stuff like that even existed so now i'm invested in knowing what it is

i am 100% hiring you for my coming out party i'm throwing in a couple of years. it's gonna be fun. if we don't get immediately kicked out i promise good food and some spicy drama between my homophobic relatives and my accepting relatives! and my brother's, who i already came out to, dry commentary

i was definitely not the one you told about burma trails! but from the tags i'm just gonna say how is that allowed and why does it seem like a weird type of torture? i hate it, i probably would've had a heart attack 3 seconds in

oh yeah i actually can't tell most of the time if the memories from my childhood are actual memories or if it's just a combination of having seen photos and heard stories about it

my glasses prescription is fine i think. my eye doctor said that i get headaches from glasses because... well i tried to explain this and then deleted it all because it was a very scientific explanation when she said it and i zoned out pretty much halfway through and even the part that i did understand i can't translate to english! but it has something to do with the fact that with contacts it's enough to move my eyes in the direction i want to look at and with glasses i have to move my whole head and my brain got so used to contacts that it overdoes it with the eye movements when wearing glasses? i dunno. this is the best i can do in explaining it

i must admit i'm very jealous of the never snows part because while snow is pretty to look at it's absolutely freezing! for the past week i slept under a duvet, three blankets while wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt and i still woke up cold. because for a couple of nights it was around -22°C. it's great

ohhh you got pretty lucky as a kid then! my kid self would have absolutely lost it at getting the equivalent of 5/10 bucks. i probably would have bought so much candy

excellent!!! hope you’re enjoying the vague void from whence you came! i’ve never said whence before in my LIFE i wonder if i used it correctly. anyway. the actual recipe was way more specific but once i saw ‘2 frozen bananas’ and looked at all the sliced bananas in my fridge, having no idea how many there were, i just started improvising sdfkhsdfs. I’d be interested to try it with yoghurt though if I can get some dairy free plain stuff, I’m sure I can somewhere. Banana used to be my biggest problem when I was younger. Then I learnt words like occasion and necessary and embarrassed and I realised the more english I tried to learn, the worse my life was gonna get. And I was right. On the bright side, developing an inability to ever spell occasion correctly made banana seem a lot easier to handle.

that is fair. end of semesters are rough. i cannot function during them at all. i hope everything chills out for you!! i’m not sure how the school year is over there but maybe it’s break time? that’d be nice. but rest in peace anyway, enjoy being dead! they say necromancy is frowned upon in all societies but I reckon it’s just called making a friend when you’re dead so maybe you wanna take that up as a hobby! I’ve heard it’s nice this time of year!

yup! sometimes I’m like oh you’re 5 foot 4? that sounds way taller than me. but it...it really isn’t...it’s like an extra 8cm or something. which adds up! but in my head I was picturing a MUCH taller height. In my head I think I picture 6 foot and 5 foot 4 as the same height, now that I think about it.

!!!!! my first order as queen of birds is to meet a morepork face to face so we can chat about the price of pork these days. yes!! the first half was nice but the second half was really fun. my best guess is still that it’s a salp? Maybe? So many salp pictures are massive groups of them but like,, from what i can tell of singular photos,,, it was maybe that? I guess the only other possibility is it’s just some clear jellyfish but salp does seem more likely. At first I was like oh duuude boob implant for the ocean!! but then I realised it actually seemed kinda alive and was probably an actual creature. my bad.

excellent. i’ll break any tension by dropping the vampire act for the mouse act. will do backflips for cheese. will bite ankles for homophobic comments. Will pull a knife out of god knows where, not to threaten anyone, just to clean my nails with to make everyone nervous. I offer many services. I’m flexible. And I love me some good food.

I actually DON’T know the reason behind burma trails. I really don’t. The reason ‘it’s a fun activity!’ seems a little fake. if it’s a fun activity then why did Mrs. G. tell us a horror story about the forest before we went out to navigate said forest at night, blindfolded, surrounded by wildlife and parents supervising (*cough* waiting for the opportunity to jump out at you *cough*) with a teacher at the end waiting to scare us. So we can learn how to navigate the forest in the dark? So we learn how to follow a mysterious rope INTO the forest at night? seems dodgy to me. school camps be like [drives you out to forest] follow this rope and don’t take your blindfold off. like. bruh. i almost DID have a heart attack one time, I got stuck like something was holding my leg. First thought-ah, must’ve got my leg stuck in a big stick. Second thought-maybe this is one of the parents fucking around, it feels more like a grip than a twig. Third thought-I cannot get my leg free no matter what I do what the fuck is HAPPENING so I started crying out for help. When they FINALLY came they found nothing my leg was caught on so that was fun. love that for me. I was able to move as soon as they arrived. That’s not weird at all. anyway.

I think most of my early memories are just from stories I’ve been told and photos I’ve seen. My memory tends to be horrible I highly doubt I remember that one time I was eating dirt from the garden out in the yard gleefully. I just saw the photo evidence. mm spaghetti. bone apple teeth. my character hasn’t changed at all since I was a wee babe.

ohhhh okay. I think I get what you mean by that. Thank you for trying to explain! That’s really interesting. I guess I do move my head a lot with glasses. Although I have massive glasses so it’s probably easier for me to just move my eyes where I want. I reckon with smaller glasses I’d have to move my head way more.

the temperature comment is so funny because during the heart of winter i tend to sleep with a sheet, a blanket, a duvet, then 2-4 blankets on top while in a long sleeve shirt and long pants and sometimes bed socks and often a hottie (i’ve never realised how that sounds out of context...a hot water bottle...is calling it a hottie normal or is a my family thing? is this a nz thing? now i’m questioning myself). in my uni accommodation last year we didn’t have proper heating during most of winter and well. there was a quilt added to everything else. every blanket i could find. how cold does it get here in winter? rarely ever past 0 degrees celsius. I would literally die in your position, clearly. I could not survive that. Props to you for making it through aha.

yesss. Before when I found five dollar notes it’d be on the street and I’d be like oh no! Mum we have to hand this into the police station! It’s a lot of money, someone will be looking for it! Understandably she was like,, lindsey they might miss it but there’s not really any way you can find them,,, I still refused to spend it. That was like my first time really getting that much money for myself. The dairy on main street sold lollies for 10 cents each and they had like, 30 different lil glass boxes so you’d go I want 3 of 26, 5 of 7, ohhh and 5 of 13 please! I dunno if they’re still 10 cents each but I thought it was the best thing ever as a kid. I think I wanted to save the money though sfdjsdkfhs put it in my piggy bank to save up for something ‘super cool’. Aka probably like a neat soft toy to sleep with sdfsdkfs.

#Anonymous #i wrote the majority of this reason like a couple hours after you sent it #then i went to bed because it was late. thinking to myself. oh i'll finish the last bit in the morning!#but of course in the morning the lil 1 didn't show up above mail and it was located in my drafts now so my dumb ass was like ah yes #absolutely nothing to respond to here!#i should know by now i never remember if i save things to drafts sfjshkdfhsdf #anyway #i REMEMBERED. a few days late. BUT i didn't just forget entirely so! there's that!#now i'll finish the last bit of the response and edit the incomprehensible tired mumbling parts #although i'm currently overheating so now it'll be incomprehensible overheated brain parts! fun!#no i cannot handle cold temperatures no i cannot handle 'hot' temperatures i can handle like a one to two degree range #and nothing else. life is. a trip.#I still don't know what to call dairy's when talking to people outside nz #corner store? they're not always on corners. convenience store? maybe. small shop? idk dude #i don't quite know the correct thing to equate them to.#but they sell lollies sometimes. that's the main point here sdkjhskdf #now to decide what I'm doing tonight #play stardew valley. watch someone else play stardew valley on youtube. stare at my ceiling thinking about stardew valley. do the dishes #earlier today i was like maybe...maybe i'll watch a movie...add some variety to my life...#i wanted to rewatch whatever movie has that song that is like agggooonnnyyyyyy #that's the only word i remember from the song. so it's that. or...well...back to my obsession

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sellingmysoulforbts · 5 years

Text

Anytime

Jeon Jungkook x Female! Reader

Genre: fluff. It's a really cheesy college! AU.

Warnings: mentions of death, and just one or two bad words 🤐

Word count: 3.444

~~~~

You were sitting in the stool, completely stressing over the fact that it was the first week of the semester and you were already late with your homework. The class was going to start soon and the room started filling up, still you were really focused on getting the answers right, to notice all the people coming in.

Jungkook was entering the class laughing along his friends and started descending to get a good seat in the theater-like classroom, but as they made their way he didn't fail to notice you, all balled up over a bunch of papers, your hair tied up in a messy bun, and how your glasses stayed cutely at the tip of your nose.

“Hey Jimin!” he called.”what?” the older boy asked, going back the few steps that separated him from his friend. Jungkook subtly signaled your way with his head. “I've found my seat” he said. Jimin chuckled and highfived the boy. “nice” he said, eyeing you, “see you after class” and with a wink he left to catch up with Taehyung, who was waiting for them. He casually walked over to the seat next to this girl, and he got to admire your features more closely. She's so pretty he thought. “hey, mind if I sit?” he asked. You didn't even bother to look at who was asking quickly shaking your head and signaling him to sit down. He was upset, how am I going to make her fall for me if she won't even look at me?! Determined to make a move he leaned in close to take a look at what you're doing. Things are never in his favor though, once he got close enough the professor entered and you quickly gathered all your stuff. He leaned back in his seat with a sigh. Class was so boring, you really didn't want to pay attention, stupid class in which attendance matters, like the teacher knew no one would come if he didn't count your attendance. Jungkook wasn't any better, he was trying to think of what to do to get your attention. As the teacher started talking about penguins,God knows why, he thought of something. He shifted, closer to your body. “you know, this reminds me of the time I went to the beach with my friends” startled by the closeness of the boy and his breath tickling the side of your neck, you almost launched yourself over the other side. “whaaa~, what's wrong with you?!” you half yelled trying to move him to his place, he grinned and moved back. You had finally looked at him. “and what do penguins have to do with the beach, anyway?“ you mumbled, fixing your hoodie as you went back into your original position. “ah! See there's this tropical island where penguins live” “oh really?! Please, do tell me more” you exclaimed in fake interest, resting your chin in your hand for emphasis. Your sarcastic comment threw him off for a second, and your face staring directly at him distracted him, he could admire your eyes glistening behind those glasses. “I'd love to tell you all my stories and I'd love to hear yours too” he said making the distance between you two smaller. You retracted to your seat and chuckled. “who are you?” you whispered. “your future boyfriend” he said, your head snapped to look at him, looking ahead with a beautiful bunny smile adorning his face. You tried hard not to blush. “In your dreams” you said. “well then, if I fall asleep now I'll meet you sooner” he said and positioned himself to take a nap. What the hell is going on? You tried to ignore him, unsure if he had actually fallen asleep. Soon the paper to write your name down was coming your way and so you decided it will be a good time to wake him up. “hey you, wake up” you said shaking him. He turned your way and smiled, “I have a name you know?”. “Well I guessed so, but didn't care enough to actually get it” you shrugged. He hissed, “that hurt” he said and placed a hand in his chest. “You're unbelievable” you laughed. “unbelievably charming” he corrected. “I'm Jungkook by the way. Nice to meet you” he extended his hand “okay” you responded. “you're not going to tell me yours?” he moved his neck to get a better glimpse of your face, and saw you trying to hide your smile.”Well, I guess we're going to stick to beautiful” he suggested, making you giggle, right before answering the list reached you. He snatched it from your hands and wrote down his name as you observed him, surprised. Once he finished he looked at you with a smirk. “now you have to tell me your name, or I'll literally write down ‘the pretty girl next to me’” you scoffed. He was still looking at you. “Fine” you breathed. “I'm y/n, L/n y/n.” he smiled.”See? It wasn't that hard.“ he told you and wrote your name. At that you responded by simply rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “let me rectify, you're impossible” you said. “impossible not to love” he sang in your ear. Deciding on ignoring him for the rest of the class you turned your head to the front and tried to pay attention. Meanwhile he was having the time of his life. Still not sure what pulled him towards you, or why he was being so straightforward, he didn't regret a second of it. He had seen you pass him by on campus, a few semesters before, so caught up in your things, looking so effortlessly pretty and he was instantly intrigued, every time he saw you he'd smile, and you were so unaware of that. So the second he found you on one of his classes he didn't hesitate, it was his chance to finally meet you. You were so caught up in your daydream, pretending to pay attention for you to notice his stare. Just when a strand of hair fell from your bun, did he move, you were still unfazed. He so lightly moved it to the back of your ear, annoyed that it was blocking the view. And you got startled. Slapping his hand away, making him chuckle and scooting all the way to the other end of your seat as you said “what do you think you're doing?” “making you fall in love with me” he shrugged. Taken aback by his answer, you couldn't hold back the blush that reached your cheeks in seconds. He laughed. “you're so cute” he whispered. “Fuck you” was your final reply. Glad when the class was dismissed you rushed out of there. Over the next few classes he seemed to be glued to you. He would always sit next to you, try and distract you, make you laugh and tease you a little bit. He felt so proud every time he had made you blush. You had tried to avoid him the first few times by getting to class late, changing seats, sitting next to other people, etc., but he was not about to leave you, so you eventually gave up. After sometime, you could say that Jungkook had become someone special to you. How could he not? He was unbelievably charming after all. Even after all this time you weren't sure where your relationship with him stood. He would always flirt with you but never really tried to make a move, also you two never saw each other outside of that particular class, and would only wave at each other if you happened to cross paths. So was he your friend? Not really. A possible love interest? Not clear. A pain in the ass? Sometimes. The only thing you knew for sure was that he was really fun to be around and you were glad you had met him. Half of the semester had gone by with this dynamic going on between you two. Spring break was approaching by the minute and you were really looking forward to going home and just chilling for a while. “Hey” you said as you took your seat, Jungkook already waiting for you. He smiled “hello, beautiful.” he responded. You rolled your eyes, as per usual. It was always like this, he flirted, you acted as if you didn't care, ignoring the butterflies that erupted inside you. God, that's just my stomach asking for food, you told yourself. You took a granola bar out of your backpack and started eating. Soon enough you felt eyes on you, well more like on your food. Playfully you turned around not facing Jungkook, and he didn't like that. He placed his head on your shoulder, hugging you from behind “aren't you gonna give me some?” he asked. His closeness not surprising nor bothering you. Jungkook, you learned, really enjoyed skinship, so you just got used to him hugging you, sleeping on you, playfully trying to take your hand. “No” you said and took another bite. “please” he continued. If he’d set his mind to it he could be incredibly cute - or frustratingly hot, but not important now- so you sighed annoyed and handed him the bar. A normal person would have taken it with one hand, take a bite and handed it over again. Also, another thing about Jungkook is that he doesn't fit into that, so he just bit it and chewed, without removing his head off your shoulder. “thanks” he said once finished, and kissed your cheek. That did surprise you, he has never done that before and blood just rushed to heat your face. He knew he got you flustered, for two reasons, 1) your lack of response, and 2) you still didn't face him. He just smirked and decided to leave you alone for a little bit. You used the fact that you wanted to eat at peace as an excuse,for both yourself and the world, to not face him. After throwing the wrapper away, you were ready to “interact” with him again, so you just sat down. Class had started a while ago, when you were eating. “do you have any plans for spring break?” he whispered. You nodded enthusiastically. “I'm going home” you answered as his face fell. He was hoping you’d stay so he could finally ask you out. In his mind, if he did it then, you couldn't possibly reject him, your friends will probably be leaving, there was plenty of time for you to do your homework, and the weather was nice, it was perfect. Now he didn't know what to do. Quickly composing himself, he said “are you excited?” “I am, actually. I really want to spend time with my family, see some old friends, and I want to visit my grandparents” you were smiling, how could he feel down if you were smiling, he couldn't be that selfish. “sounds fun” he sounded kinda weird, like forced happiness. “are you okay?” he nodded. “you think it's boring, don't you? Well I guess it kinda is, but I promised my grandpa to solve some crossword puzzles together.” You giggled. “fun” he answers sarcastically, making the U really long. “ what are you doing, then?” you said. “ I'll probably stay here, hang with the guys, and play Overwatch or something” “yeah that's way more fun”. The class continued like that, you teasing each other, him making you laugh. “hey, can I have your number?” he asked, finally. “what for?” you teased. “spring break is next week, aren't you gonna miss me?” “are you?” you raised your brows, still teasing. “oh, you know I will” he said. “I'll think about it” you smiled. Turning around to leave, ‘cause the class had been dismissed. He grabbed your hand, and turned you around. “c’mon, don't be like that” “okay fine” He smiled as you proceeded to save your number in his phone, as ‘don't call me’. When he saw it, he just smiled, and changed it to ‘y/n 🖤’ with a black heart because he didn't want to be cringy. As soon as the break started he was so tempted to call you. He really missed your voice and was really disappointed that he couldn't ask you on a date. After two days he finally gave up and sent you a text. You didn't say anything about texting 😉 Well, you definitely took your time to figure THAT out. Safe to say you two texted the whole week. When you came back it was as if you hadn't been apart. He kept texting you, even now that you would see each other. Until you stopped replying, and then you didn't come to class, for a whole week. He started wondering what he did wrong, reading and rereading all the conversations, and replaying the last moments he got to see you. You were smiling, the last text he sent was a 'good night' text. Maybe it was to soon? To forward? Did he make you uncomfortable? Are you avoiding him? He wanted to know so bad, but was conflicted, he shouldn't text you, right? If you're upset it'll just make you even more uncomfortable. Next week he came to class, and saw you all balled up in your regular chair with a huge black hoodie covering your entire face. Well she wouldn't have sat there if she was avoiding me, he thought. He moved closer and sat down, a few seats to the right, to give you space. When you heard the rustling of his backpack being put down, you turned your head and mumbled a very soft hey. “hi” he said with a smile, and started digging into his backpack. You returned to your position, not really in the mood to interact with any humans. “mm y/n” Jungkook called and you turned to face him again. “I took notes for you, and I also wrote your name on the list” he said as he handed you a bunch of papers. The gesture so sweet it made you smile, and he couldn't be happier. You stood up and sat down again right next to him, taking the papers and putting them in your binder. “ Thank you” you kissed his cheek, and that erased every doubt of you avoiding him in Jungkook’s mind, he was still curious as to why you were all gloomy though. Afterwards, a little into the lecture, you had returned to looking sad and sulking. Thoughts racing in your mind, you couldn't control the tears in your eyes, and before he knew it you were out the door and rushing to the bathroom. He was so surprised by you sudden action, that it took him a minute to snap back into reality and follow you. He was just in time to watch you enter the ladies room, so he decided to wait outside. You came back a few moments later, your eyes red. His heart broke. “Oh! Hi, I didn't see you there” you said, pretending to be okay. He just walked up to you and hugged you. His arms giving you a sense of safety you've been craving, putting your defenses down, you hugged him back. “Is everything okay?” he asked softly, you just shook your head against his chest. “do you wanna talk about it?” he asked again, the broken no that came out of your mouth before you bursted into tears, shattered him, to the point where he was holding back his tears now. He hugged you tighter and let you cry all you needed. After a while your sobs stopped and you came back to your senses, letting go of him and wiping your tears away so quickly while mumbling a bunch of apologies. He shushed you, “Hey, I'm gonna go get our stuff, and we can go get some ice cream, okay? I'll be right back” and he left before you could even answer. After a couple of minutes he came back with both of your backpacks, one on each shoulder, and gave you a smile. “Hey do you happen to carry bricks around campus?” He jokingly asked. “Not on daily basis” you responded, the awkward atmosphere your sobbing created, disappearing. “No,but seriously, what the hell do you carry in here?” he said, moving your backpack “My laptop is kinda old, and with the book it adds up. But is not that heavy” you tried to grab your backpack, but Jungkook was quicker, and tuned his body so you reached nothing but air. "Oh no! I’m carrying this, you already look like the hunchback of Notre Dame.” playfully hitting his chest, you replied “I do NOT!” he just laughed and started to guide you to the parking lot, and into his car. Honestly, you were scared when you caught your reflexion in the side mirror. Jungkook had been driving the both of you to the nearest Ice Cream Parlor, while making small talk. He wasn't pressuring you, and it was appreciated. You subtly moved your cold hands to your cheeks in a lame attempt to get rid of their swollen appearance. He caught a glimpse of you, and couldn’t help the smile that reached his face. You looked adorable. Once you reached the place, he got out of the car and like the gentleman he is, helped you out. Leaving your backpacks in the car he patted his pockets before locking the car. He asked you what flavour you wanted and got a cup with two flavors and cream to share. The whole time, you simply talked, the usual conversations you two shared in class, he made you laugh, and for a little while you felt like you weren't drowning in sadness. "Thanks for that" you said, while walking again to the car. "Anytime" he answered, with a smile. The tone he used made you feel like to him it wasn't that big of a deal, but to you it meant a lot. "I really mean it, I desperately needed a break, so thank you" "And I mean it too" he said stopping to look at you. "Look I don't know what is bothering you so much, but at this point I would assume we're at least friends, so if you need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, here I am" he locked so deep into your eyes, you just nodded overwhelmed. He smiled and opened the car door for you. The car ride was silent, you were deciding if you should tell him or not. "Hey, should I drive back to campus or do you want me to take you home?" He asked, you didn't even hear him. "My grandpa died" you blurted out, and started crying again. He just pulled over so he could hold you again. Trying his best to soothe you. "I'm really sorry" he said rubbing your back. "He was my inspiration, I wanted so bad for him to see me graduate, and now I can't. I wanted to make him proud" you sobbed. "Hey, I know he's proud of you, he has always been. Ever since I met you i could tell how much of a wonderful human being you are. I don't there is ever room for disappointment when it comes to you. Now you just gotta work hard to graduate and let everyone know who was the one to make you into the successful woman you'll become." "Thank you, Jungkook" "anytime" he said again with a smile, happy he had stopped your crying. "You know, I thought you wanted us to be more than friends" you said chuckling, remembering his previous comment. "Trust I've been trying to achieve that since the semester started." Kook said, you just reached and kissed his cheek. He smiled so widely and hugged you again. "I really like you y/n" "I like you too, Jungkook. Thank you for being here for me" you said hugging him back. He pulled back enough to look eye to eye. "Anytime" he laughed, you smiled too. He was leaning into kiss you but stopped right before your lips. "So if I asked you out on a date, would you say yes?" He whispered millimeters away from your lips. "Anytime" you answered, and finally closed the gap.

Jungkook was really there for you, he helped you cope with your grandfather passing away, and would hold you anytime you needed. Going on playful dates, just chilling or in class he'd make you laugh. You thanked every God above for putting him in your life because he made everything better.

----

A/N: heeeey! i hope you liked it.

#bts jungkook #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook #love story #jungkook fluff #jeon jungguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts fanfction

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sugaxjpg · 6 years

Text

starboy; m

⤷ Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you.

What could possibly go wrong?

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fratboy!AU and College!AU

✓ Filed under: smut

✓ Words: 14,285

Author’s Note: I wasn’t even gonna bring this one back, but, after some nasty cases of plagiarism that took place while I was out out tumblr, I decided it would be for the best to get my story out there. Enjoy sub!kook wisely, kiddos.

The cool breeze of the overcast night crawled through the open window, bringing along the distant sounds of the most diverse conversations that filled the campus on that interminable Friday night. Your dormitory was illuminated solely by the dim streetlights and your small, yellowish lamp, delineating shadows on the belongings that you had already reorganised so many times that afternoon. The semester had barely come to an end and you were already flooded with an endless, distressing feeling of the purest, most unwavering boredom. It did not take long for your consciousness to begin to dissipate amidst the alabaster sheets, slumberousness comfortably embracing your body as your worries were lost in the arrival of a new world of dreams.

It was supposed to be a calm night.

Your eyes opened abruptly as your phone rang, vibrations spreading throughout the ocean of blankets. You blinked a few times, confused as you realized you were almost falling asleep, and reached out in a mindless reflex, groping blindly at your annoying device. With a slight grunt, you at last found it, bringing the bright screen closer to your drowsy face. The letters seemed to mock you, almost as if to say that your long-awaited rest would not come so easily.

With a last suspire, you answered, "Jennie?" you asked, voice groggy. The girl had not talked to you for a whole week, and her unexpected call left you a little bewildered. Dizzy, you turned around on the bed, scanning the red numbers of your clock with half open eyelids. "Two in the morning? What the fuck do you want?"

On the other side of the line, your friend giggled, "Hello, sunshine. Cheerful as always, I see," she teased, clearly noticing the remnants of sleep and irritation ornamenting your low tone. You only snorted at her artificial words, and she took it as a sign that maybe you were not quite in the mood for jokes. "All right, (y/n), chill out. I'm calling to know if you're feeling like going to a party with m—"

"—No, thanks," you cut her sentence off, listening to your friend's defeated whine on the other end of that umpremedited call. Her infantile reaction made you roll your eyes and toss your head against the pillows — Jennie should have known your response even before she saw your number on her contact list. After all, she was very aware of the tide of misfortune that seemed to surround you as parties approached. Whether it was bad fights with friends or drugs being hidden in your belongings, you always seemed to be the target chosen for a night of bad luck — which, understandably so, you would much rather avoid.

Still, she seemed unable to comprehend the direct cues of your annoyance, "Pleeease, (y/n)!" Jennie pleaded again, her high-pitched voice reverberating in your muffled ears for a second. Your friend’s insistence was not uncommon, per say, but at the same time it seemed that there was something more to it. "You're like the fifth person I'm asking, don't do this to me..." she trailed off. God, you could almost see her pouting, those stupidly cherry-colored lips that embellished her features so much.

It would not work with you.

"I am deeply glad to know I'm your fifth option, Jennie," you replied sarcastically, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt and previous calmness gradually dissipating into alarmed senses. Now, you realized, you had missed all the chances of falling asleep anytime soon. "But you know how I feel about parties, especially frat parties."

The girl then paused for a moment, analyzing your words. In the background, you could hear distant laughter, and you found yourself wondering what the living hell she was doing that damn night — whatever it was, it was apparently less relevant than the place she was so bravely fighting to drag you into, "I do know how you feel about that, but you’ll have to take my word for it: it will be great,” she guaranteed. “Besides, how do you even know it's a frat party?"

"Now I do." You smiled, victorious. There was absolutely nothing in this world that would convince you to be present on such distasteful occasion, especially as it revolved around a disgusting gathering of fuckboys. Seemed to be quite the recipe for disaster, if you were to say so yourself. "Are you done trying to convince—"

"—Jungkook's gonna be there," Jennie’s voice sliced your sentence short with the sharpness of a knife. Your speech vacillated. Even against all your attempts at keeping your composure, the manner your face heated up quickly, painting your cheeks with a dim dahlia hue, told no lies. Your natural reaction made you angry at the way your body burned at the mere mention of that infamous name — such a honey-like taste for such deadly poison.

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way, but even so, you could not avoid the venomous interest that sown within you — planted the very first time you saw him come in through the classroom door, head raised like an arrogant monarch and confidence expressed within every resounding step.

That same interest which was irrigated with every ethereal smile; growing and curling its tight branches around your body every time you saw yourself trapped in his intoxicating presence. Jungkook was absurdly handsome, annoyingly funny and, to top it all, horribly courteous to everyone. It was almost as if he had no reason to be disliked — other than his heavenly perfection, that was. And you repudiated yourself for falling for his charms every damn time empty compliments spilled from his geranium-colored, rose-shaped lips.

You cleared your dry throat, inducing your cognizance to crash back down to the cold substantiality of your relinquished dormitory. "That's— That doesn't change anything," you forced yourself to speak out.

Still, your hesitation told other stories. "You can't lie to me, girl," you swore that you could hear the smile resonating in background Jennie's melodious voice — she, at last, had found her triumph within the tides of your momentaneous weakness. You both knew it. "I'll be there in ten. Wear something pretty!"

And with that, she hung up, leaving you alone with your calamitous thoughts in that poorly-illuminated room. Seems like your customary misfortune had begun to present itself, after all.

"Okay, (y/n), we have a problem." Jennie breathed out, hands on her waist as she studied your closet minutiously, expert eyes sweeping across the most diverse pieces of clothing. Awfully optimistic, she was still in search of something to save you from your misery, even though she was almost certain there would be nothing there. "You dress like a grandma."

"Thanks," was all you grunted, still secure in your bed. You were surrounded and covered by random pants, dresses, and T-shirts that had been dumped on you while your friend tirelessly searched for something she thought was socially acceptable. If it had been any other night, you would have simply put on the first thing you saw, but, at that moment, you just did not have the energy to go against her words. You had become a puppet in Jennie’s hand, and that was as dangerous as it could possibly get. "Who goes to a party at two in the morning, anyways?" you asked.

"We do," she answered promptly. Fantastic comeback, you thought. Puts the Socratic method to shame. "Thank god! I think I found something," the girl exclaimed.

Taking your hand up to the blue sweater that covered your eyes seemed to use all the strength you had left. You threw the piece of clothing to the side with another grunt, and your eyes opened with slumberousness, a little hesitant to see what your friend was holding in front of her body with certain pride — oh hell no. Since when did you have such a short dress?

The fact that you could not even recall that short, ridiculously low-cut red dress spoke for itself — talk about repressed memories. "No fucking way," you firmly proclaimed, feeling your heart jump at the mere thought of using that little piece of fabric to cover your body. "Pick something else, I'm not wearing that."

"You also said you were not going, but look at you now." Jennie smiled victoriously, examining the clothing as if it were a particular work of art. If she liked it so much, she could take it. In fact, there was a good chance she had been the one who had gifted it to you, it was the only possible explanation for its odd presence amongst your, quote, grandma clothes. "C'mon, (y/n)! Jungkook's gonna love it!" your friend pressed further, her voice going up by in octave.

Your patience had a very quick ending, and it was already reaching its limits. You were one second away from pushing your friend out of your room and, deep within your mind, you asked yourself why you had even agreed to accompany her in the first place — your psychology classes had not prepared you for that kind of crap, "Can you please quit with the Jungkook shit? You know as well as I do that he has better options than me," you just mumbled, half-hoping she had not heard it.

Only, she did. Jennie’s movements came to a sudden halt, internally shocked at your unexpected defeat, "Are you serious?" she asked, frustration ornamenting of her astringent choice of words. "You stop with that low-confidence crap at this instant, (y/n). I don't have time for this right now. Put on the dress and let's go."

"No, Jennie," you insisted, throwing your legs to the side and sitting up on the bed, staring at your friend with exhaustion swimming in the ocean of your eyes. Underneath the white lights of your dormitory, her face had been painted by a vague hue of roseate, and you could not pinpoint if it was out of sheer irritation, or if it had something else to it. "And you know that's true. Starboy over there could put his hands on any pair of tits in this entire campus, why would he want mine?"

"Why wouldn't he?" she threw back within a heartbeat. Her perfectly-delineated eyebrows moved together to form a frown, ruby-painted lips pouting to form a picture of her frustration — Jennie always did that when she was provoked, and you found it equally adorable and ridiculous. "I bet that, if you wanted, you could have him wrapped around your finger and begging for you."

You rolled your eyes at the preposterous idea, fingers subconsciously tightening on the sweater you had just thrown aside — since when had you become so defensive? You needed to clear your head before you said something stupid. "And I bet that would never happen."

The other girl stopped, eyes closed in a momentary concentration. From the years you knew her, you could tell easily that it was not a positive sign, "Then it's a bet," Jennie stated as she opened her eyes back again, taking you by surprise. You could not help but laugh, thinking it was just a bad joke. Maybe she was drunk already. "I'm serious, (y/n). We have a bet — no turnbacks."

Embellished by sarcasm, a smile effloresced on your lips. Instantaneously, you defined that idea as an enumeration of adjectives: pathetic, impulsive, reckless, infantile. Borderline a waste of time and dignity, if you were to go the extra mile. Still, you were intrigued by such fantasious possibilities, so you decided to play along, "Oh yeah? What kind of bet?” you teased.

"The kind that either we both win, or we both lose," she continued, taking off the dress from its hanger. "You said that you can't have Jungkook? Try. I say you can. I bet you can," she walked towards you, her heels making punctual noises on the hardwood floor. Only then did you notice her black party dress, somewhat the same size of the one she was giving you. It contoured her figure perfectly, combining with her caramel-colored hair. "Tonight, you're getting yourself a starboy."

A small, incredulous laugh bursted from your parted lips, "You sound crazy right now. How would that even work?” you asked.

She thought for a moment, her tongue coming out to wet her plump lips. Oh, that was bad, you realized — she was constructing a plan, "Step one: you get yourself into this goddamn dress and we go to the party," Jennie said, easily opening the zipper of the piece of clothing, "Step two: you drink a little bit of the good old liquid courage," she threw the dress on your lap, wasting no time to turn around, walking towards your bathroom. Her long hair swayed behind her, circling her small body like an enveloping aura, "Step three: get his attention, maybe even make him a bit jealous," her voice echoed through the walls, and the distance did not prevent the feeling of utter disbelief from taking over your mind. Yeah, she was definitely drunk. "Finally, step four: you make him beg for you, and we both win.”

You found yourself speechless, completely bewildered to realize that your friend was being serious, “Whatever you drank, don’t give it to me,” was all that you were able to say in return. It was almost as if you had stepped into a parallel universe in which the laws of basic common sense no longer applied.

"So, do we have a bet?" Jennie pressed on, coming back quickly with a makeup case in hand. Her eyes examined your flabbergasted expression closely, studying any possibility of acceptance from your part. Still, she found nothing but shock.

That could not be happening, you thought over and over. You could not be actually considering being part of that insane idea, "No, no, wait," you requested, almost breathlessly so. Even if your judgement was slightly lost amidst tides of curiosity, your mind was working intensely on everything that had been said. "Not so quick, Jennie. You're acting like you're gonna win, but I still have my side to work on. If I win, I'm the one left humiliated, not you.”

"Good point," she acknowledged, but her interest was directed to the palette of brown eyeshadows in her hand — there was one with touches of gold that would look just marvelous on you. The short dress still lay on your lap, its weight seeming to increase with each passing phrase. "If you win, I'll do the same with that Jimin guy."

Confusion fell like a shadow upon your features, "But Jimin has a girlfriend," you reminded her.

"Exactly," your friend shrugged, finally seeming to find the pigmentation that she so wanted. Jennie's eyes came back to you, certain that the subject had come to an end. "Why are not you dressed yet? We'll be late, young lady."

You breathed out, defeated. The night breeze whistled through the half-open window, and the muffled conversations from aforetime had already been replaced by a vague mixture of the various songs that echoed across the campus.

Maybe, just maybe, the night would not be so boring, after all.

You did not know for how long you had not worn the horrible combination of high heels and a short dress, but you knew that it was long enough for you to lose your balance momentarily every time you tried to pull the fabric down your legs. Your paranoia was constant, and you had the impression that not even your ass was properly covered as the two of you walked down the cold streets. Not only insecure, you felt exposed — and not in a naughty, good-girls-gone-bad kind of way, but like you had been thrown into a twisted version of dreaming you were naked in class before a big test. Only you were only half naked, and the test was a stupid bet you had made in the heat of the moment.

Fantastic. Just fantastic. You really needed to stop putting yourself in that kind of situation.

In asymmetry, your friend seemed to be as proud as she could possibly be — they grow up so fast, she thought in an inner suspire, not affected by the way your hands continuously fixed your perfectly-fitting dress, "Stop that, you look amazing," Jennie assured, giving a light slap on your bare shoulder. Whatever was waiting for you in that forsaken party, it should be worth the ridiculously gelid air that surrounded your legs. "You need to be more confident, specially tonight."

As you breathed out, you thought that an alabaster cloud of heat would depart from in between your cherry-colored lips — only, it was not winter, and you were just being overly-dramatic for a change, "You say it like it's easy," you remarked, looking up at the stygian sky. The clouds above you two seemed to grow denser by the minute, and you found yourself praying to all the deities so they would not unload before you had arrived at your destination. After so much psychological torture to get ready, it would be miserable if all that effort went down in the rain. "I don't even where how to start off with this stupid plan."

"Sweetie, you have to make him interested," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Jennie stopped abruptly, trying to remember which way to go. After examining the scenery around her, she gripped your wrist gently, guiding you across the deserted street and taking a curve. "This way. What was I saying? "

"How can I even make him interested?" you answered her question with another one, eyes sweeping across the penumbra-covered residencies, most of which already had its lights turned off — which is only reasonable at three in the morning. If it were not for the big mansion at the end of the street, with its absurdly loud music and drunken exclamations, you would think that you two had entered a ghost town.

"That's simple: ignore him," Jennie shrugged. Your gaze, which snapped in her direction almost instantaneously, must have perfectly expressed your inner confusion, for she rapidly elaborated on her previous sentence, "Listen, Jungkook is used to having girls on their knees just by breathing around them, you said that yourself," the girl recalled. "So, all you'll have to make him run after you. I'm sure he'll like the change of parts for one night."

You knew that telling her about your unwanted interest would be like giving her the gun and the bullets to shoot at you, but you would never think it would reach this point. There is a very thick and marked line between mocking your friend about their crush and constructing a plan of seduction based on it. At times you wondered if Jennie, in all her impulsive and reckless glory, even knew the difference. Or if she even cared, honestly. She probably did. Hopefully she did.

Still, you could not claim that the idea was not, in the very least, intriguing. Compelling and — to hell with it, it was as fucking tempting as shaking hands with the devil. You were terribly scared by the prospect of ruining your entire life, but the ethereal promises that awaited in the horizon still managed to wipe your preoccupations clear. Jennie truly was not a good influence for you, but you had to take a bit of personal responsibility and accept that you were not only following her plan, but enjoying it.

Maybe you were as bad as she was. Maybe you found yourself hoping that you would lose that little competition.

Truth was, you also did not care back then.

Like a noisy giant, the frat house — which appeared to be more of a mansion — rose before the two of you in all its splendor. From its windows, it was possible to see prismatic luminescence dripping through, mingling with the ebullient shadows that crossed before it. The lights, as kaleidoscopic as you had once envisioned, seemed to follow the rhythmic beating of the electronic music, which reverberated throughout the cloudy night. On the front yard, it was possible to distinguish pieces of clothing, beer cans, and cups thrown mindlessly on the perfectly trimmed grass. It was like a glimpse into the wildlife.

Speaking of which, an almost intimidating number of people was already crowding there, dancing and talking animatedly, reeking of alcohol and perspiration. For a moment, you were frightened by the idea of how many guests were supposed to be inside the residence. Jennie, on her part, was quick to take notice of your nervousness, and made sure to stay by your side, whispering words of encouragement. As much as you did not believe much in what she said, the attempt itself was enough to calm you down a little. Just a little. The minimum. From I want to run into the horizon to I might stay for a bit before running into the horizon. Good enough.

God, you hated frat parties.

The monumental front door was wide open for its late visitors, and you two walked in with no further worry. The entrance hall gave access to two large living rooms, one on each side, where the party was taking place. In front of you, a marble staircase led upstairs — which, you conceptualized, was an oddly heavenly imagery when compared with the devilish occurrences that certainly unrevealed in the bedrooms up on the second floor. Allegedly. If that would be you destination for the night, you would have to wait and see it for yourself.

Jennie pointed to one of the rooms with one of her perfectly manicured nails, stating that it was time to put the plan into practice, and that you should wait for her as she went to get the goods. You were afraid to ask why precisely those were. Success dripped from her tone then, and it could be heard even underneath the progression of the music. She had her eye on the prize, and she would do whatever it took for her to get it — and, by consequence, so did you. Mutual victory was something marvelous, she thought. You two should do that more often.

You hesitated for an instant as she moved away — looking like an hallucination amongst the psychedelic crowd of strangers — and considered giving up that preposterous plan. Going back to sleep seemed like a much more delightful task, but your friend was there to prevent you from backing away that easily, “Here we go, tiger,” after leaving you alone on a sofa for a few seconds, Jennie came back with the long-awaited liquid courage. Two cups. “Drink it up and get yourself ready for the fun.”

Again, to hell with it. The taste of alcohol burned your throat as you pushed it down, praying for all the gods above that your organism still knew how to take a bit of intoxication. It had been a few years, okay? You either have a social life or you manage to keep yourself on top of the class, and you had made your choice with not much hesitation. After consuming a little more than half of what she gave you, you stopped, receiving an accusatory glance from her, "I just wanna get a little less anxious, not lose my sanity. That’s enough for me," you firmly said.

Seeing that special battle would soon be lost, Jennie simply complied. Whatever. There were bigger things to worry about.

In your restless mind, the twenty minutes that followed your arrival seemed to stretch out into infinity, and you were, in your paranoid reveries, beginning to convince yourself that you would win the bet without ever trying — not something you were particularly blissful about. To be quite honest, you were not sure if your target was even present, since you had not found him in the middle of drunken guests, nor in his customary group of troglodyte friends. Jeon Jungkook was not precisely someone that passed by unnoticed.

Maybe he just did not come, or had left early, and your stupid bet would have to be postponed. Forgotten, even. Maybe you could get home and catch up on the lost sleeping hours, and all would be well. The night would once again be saved by your poor sense of timing.

But no, that would be far too easy. You were unluckier than that.

It was in the midst of a nostalgic story about your first week in college that Jennie interrupted you, slightly wide-eyed and with a expectant smile grown on her beautifully delineated lips. She looked as if she had just found out that she had bought the winning lottery ticket, and you promptly knew what awaited for you, "Okay, don't freak out, and don't look behind you," she warned, sat across from you. Jennie looked deep inside your eyes, pretending she was not referring to what was happening behind your flabbergasted figure. What a natural. "But your stayboy is coming over here."

It was not the time to freak out. But you were freaking out. Your brain seemed to combust for a few seconds, presenting you with a blue screen and the faint sound of a Windows turning off. It was fried. The last-minute panic struck you at once, and you were actually considering rushing off into the horizon when a hoarse voice greeted you both, "What's up?" it questioned.

Now, you thought, was when your misfortune presented itself.

Trying to mask your nervousness as best as you possibly could, you took your eyes off your friend, turning lackadaisically to see the newcomer. Jungkook was, as always, offensively handsome. Ridiculously attractive. What a prick. You swore those black jeans would be the death of you, that his bomber jacket had been flawlessly picked to match his disheveled hair. The contrast against the white shirt he wore underneath was clear, and you could bet real money that you could see his muscles delineated by the thin fabric. His eyes, those gorgeous black irises, checked out your form in a not very discreet manner.

As his tongue came out to wet your lips, you swore you had lost your sanity for an instant, “I don't think I know you,” he trailed off, completely ignoring Jennie’s presence.

That, in some weird way, made your momentaneous shock wilther into some sort of confidence. Or, at the very least, the best you could achieve at that instant, "I'm (y/n), and she's Jennie." You pointed at your friend, who just gave a small nod. Firm, your voice did not seem like it was your own; as serene as the magenta illumination that countered your semblance. "And you are...?"

Talk about improvisation. The second that your words had left your chest, you pondered on whether you had taken a bit too far by pretending you did not know who he was. You thought it was fair enough to hypothesize that Jungkook was particularly (in)famous around the campus, especially amongst the female population, so it bordered on the absurd that someone would have no clue about who he was. Yet, there you were, pressing the fuck-it button and going hard on it.

Jungkook, victim of his own narcissistic trip, seemed to be as surprised as you were by that prospect of unfamiliarity, for he could not disguise the way his eyebrows rose in disorientation. "Um… I’m Jungkook—"

"—Nice to meet you," you interrupted, casting a glance at Jennie, who was watching the conversation unfold impassively. Inside her eyes, ever so embellished by her perfectly-delineated cat eyes, you could see no trace of positive nor negative emotions. You hoped yours were just the same, "So, what brings you here, Kookie?" you turned back to him.

The verbalization of that nickname only made his confusion grow further, spreading around his expression and contorting it into a frown, "What was that?" he asked. The red cup in his hand seemed to shake lightly, but you were not sure. It all seemed like a surreal experience to the boy. Almost as much as it did to you.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned your head to the side. The movement made your hair fall over your shoulders, trapping the incandescent lights, which Jungkook accompanied with certain awe. It looked like a celestial aura, but you were everything but cherubic at that instant, "Well, I was clearly talking to my friend, and you, a stranger, interrupted it shamelessly," you continued, hoping that your voice would express the false contempt you were trying to pass. It was one of the most glorious moments of your academic year. "I suppose it must be quite important."

As much as you were acting somewhat rude for most people’s definition, you knew your piercing words had a special effect on someone as arrogant as Jungkook, "I— I don't...?" he muttered. The boy's head seemed to be working at a thousand miles per hour, and for a moment you almost felt sorry for him. Smoke would start coming out of his ears at any time now.

You and Jennie, on the other hand, stared at him expectantly, trying to suppress your smiles. Before he could say anything in return, your friend entered the conversation, "Everything okay there, champ? the girl questioned, timbre bordering on sarcasm. Jungkook only glanced at her, almost as if he had noticed her presence for the first time. "Need any help to form a sentence?"

The boy appeared to take a couple of seconds to rearrange his thoughts, "No, um, nevermind. We... can talk later," he told you unhurriedly, taking one last confused look at you before turning to his group of friends, who were not-so-discreetly leaning on the corner of the room, watching that unusual interaction take place. It was possible to see in their raised eyebrows and incredulous glances that, as Jungkook walked back to them, it — whatever it was — did not happen very often.

Jennie's nails found the flesh of your bare leg, trembling fingers showing her inner outbreak, "Did you see that?” she questioned in a whisper. “The poor kid was just so confused!"

As you turned around to face her, you saw in her expression the mirror of your own — delight had been splattered across your cheekbones in the form of a coral shade, your eyes shining by the adrenaline of the comical improvisation, "He was completely blown away by the fact that someone didn't know who he was," you laughed, loving every second of it. "I almost feel sorry for him."

"No, don’t even bother," she waved her hand, almost as if trying to blow away the cloud of doubts surrounding your head — like moths to a flame, they would return in a matter of seconds. In the meantime, however, you would enjoy your confidence high. "Heard what he said? You two can talk later."

You reflected, remembering his words. Done as predicted, and your fearlessness started to dissipate, "Shit, so what now?" you questioned.

With the smile that curved up her lips, wicked, you knew that the plan would move into more personal, interesting grounds, "Now we keep step three going," Jennie told you. You could not see it, but the group of boys behind you was clearly questioning Jungkook about what fuck just had happened — your friend, on the other hand, had a VIP view, and she loved it more than she could say. "And you make starboy over there jealous."

Hesitating, you ran one of your hands through your hair, crossing your legs. Your mind seemed to go blank for the second time that night, "And how am I supposed to do that?" you thought it would be better to inquire.

Jennie limited herself to point at the scene unfolding behind you. Coincidentally, it was the exact moment Jungkook looked at your sofa, and your gazes met for a moment, "Pick one," she purred.

Turns out, "pick one" was easier than you anticipated. All that was needed was to wait for one of the boys to separate from the small group and, with a literal push from your friend, you followed him toward the empty kitchen, a little impatient for that part of the plan to end soon. It was simple — if you could even use that adjective anymore — and sort of movie-ish, if you were to be sincere, but it was not like you had the energy to protest against that preposterous plan any longer.

Okay, fair enough, maybe it could not be funneled just to your lack of will to protest. You were liking that plan. A lot. You were a mortal, for fuck’s sake, and the devil knows each human’s temptation — the same devil, who, from the couch, took a sip of her drink, amused by the way Jungkook clearly followed the movement of your legs throughout the noisy room. Jennie was the true wolf in sheep’s clothing in that entire situation, and you had chosen to follow her commands. So much for free-will.

It took a while, but after sweeping the corners of your brain for the name of your new target, you recognized it as Kim Taehyung, another quite remarkable being on campus. You had always found him noisy — borderline irritating — when it came to making sure to be seen and, as much as you had to admit that the kid had the looks, his obnoxious personality managed to give you a headache within two seconds of exposure. Nothing personal, but you just did not feel any sort of attraction for someone that throws up at least twice per party. Long story. Terrible memories. Not the time.

Upon arriving at the kitchen, which was thankfully deserted, you found him looking in the freezer, searching for nothing in particular. He had his lips in a thoughtful pout, eyes surprisingly focused as they swept across the half-empty shelves — which told you he was not out of his senses just yet — and back slightly arched. In an impromptu, you thought your best chance was to act naturally and get close as quickly as possible. Once again, you wished for that part of the plan to end as soon and mercifully.

You licked your lips as you walked to his side nonchalantly, eyes glued to the fridge, "Is there something to eat here?" you asked, bending down just a little bit so he could get a better angle of your form; your ass, more specifically. The last thing you needed was to slut-drop in front of a refrigerator, but you were prepared for anything. "I'm starving."

"Yeah, me too," he cleared his throat, not even trying to disguise the stares he threw at you. Unlike Jungkook, you realized, his presence did not make you so nervous, but Taehyung was still unfairly beautiful, and certainly lived up to his reputation as a womanizer. If he could shut up more frequently, you would have probably fallen for his stupid charms as well. "But I don't think so, unless you like to eat mustard on bread."

You laughed, pretending that the joke was funnier than it really was. Taehyung seemed to like your reaction, for he presented you with a heart-throbbing, Men’s Health-worthy smirk. With his attention on lock, you decided to step away from the fridge, arranging your posture. Behind your figure, you found the cool marble counter.

Taehyung closed the refrigerator’s door as you sat on its surface, crossing your legs in an overly dramatic manner. If he had not seen your underwear in that little spectacle, it was not for lack of chances, "So," you started, running your fingers through your hair. A part of you felt pathetic for playing the seductress, but the alcohol was already beginning to have its effect, social filter long forgotten. "You're Taehyung, right? I think I might have seen you around campus."

"That's me," he agreed, eyes shamelessly glued to your cleavage. You had always wondered how specimens like him managed to be so shameless, but that was not the time for those philosophical questions. You just had to follow his vibe and enter in resonance with his most primordial instincts. Easy. Had to be. "But I don't think I've seen you. I'd remember. "

How fucking cheesy was that? You should have taken the entire cup when you had the chance, "I'm (y/n)," you said.

From the manner a wicked smirk curled up on his pinky lips, you had to know something ridiculous was about to pour out of them, "Thought you were 'Starving,'" he joked.

You rolled your eyes, throwing your head back as you digested what had been said, "I cannot believe you just threw a dad joke at me," you laughed at his failed attempt. It was pitiful, but you had to admit that it broke the ice. Nice one, Taehyung, maybe he was not at all hopeless. "I'm really thinking about walking out of here."

"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help it," he raised his hands, surrendering. You found yourself noticing his rectangular smile, and how absurdly cute it was. Focus, "So, (y/n), first frat party?" Taehyung decided to change the subject, lowering his palms, which were placed on the stone on either side of your legs. Smooth motherfucker.

You hummed, pretending to think for an instant, "Not really," your response seemed to surprise him. "It's my third, actually."

"Sweetheart, be honest with me," Taehyung leaned his head to the side, examining your features with care. As he attempted to find signals of a lie, you took notice of his own symmetrical features, those chocolate-eyes that ever so perfectly stared at you with endless serenity, the dark waterfall of his smooth, clear brown hair over his caramel skin. For someone as loud as he was, the guy surely had an angel face to mask it all. "Is it really?"

"Why would I lie about that?" You questioned, and he shrugged.

"I'm in every frat party, and, as I said, I'd remember a pretty little thing like you," you needed to use all the forces within you to not cringe at that. Seriously, did this crap work with other girls? That as a psychosocial research theme on itself — the mating rituals of college students, and its impact on normal social norms.

It could be all in your head, but you also thought that you were starting to feel some sort of tension in the air. Maybe it was time to start acting and get that interaction over with, "I'm being honest, it's my third," you confirmed, placing one of your hands on his shoulder. Firm. Of course it would be, those guys went to gym five times a week. "And you should consider yourself lucky for not seeing me in those, my nights never end especially well."

"How come?" Taehyung spoke almost in a whisper, leaning in closer to you — your touch had been the green light he was waiting for. Behind his dissimulation of tranquility, it was easy to see that he did not truly care about what you had to say. He was just trying to keep you talking until he saw an opening to execute what was really in his polluted mind. But, of course, at that moment, you had to pretend you were falling for his high-school level of flirtation, as big of a torture as it was.

You could feel his scent now, unbearably sweet, "Oh, well..." you trailed off, preferring to choose the less traumatic experience that came into your head, but also the one that you knew he would like the most. Jennie would be proud of your thought process. "Last time, this drunk girl forgot how to walk and spilled her drink all over my new dress."

"Aw, that sucks, babe," he merely replied, paying more attention to the way your lips moved than the words coming out of them.

Your fingers trailed the path from his shoulder to the base of his neck, playing with his hair, "The worst part was that dress is white," you continued, pretending to be oblivious to Taehyung's ulterior motives. To tell the truth, it was quite impressive how, after only a few minutes of seeing you for the first time, he was already thinking of tearing off your clothes. "Or, at least, was white. It got pretty much transparent after that little accident.”

Bingo.

Taehyung's eyes shot up toward yours, his attention suddenly turned to the story, an almost savage glow taking over his gaze. Before he could avoid, images of you with a wet, see-through dress flooded his thoughts, making him bite his lower lip. He pictured your body squeezed inside the soaked cloth, the embarrassed look on your reddened face. His throat went dry, "Is that... so?" he struggled to get out.

You could swear you were two seconds away from bursting out in a victorious laughter, but had to hold yourself back, "Yeah, it was a nightmare," you told him, voice coming out slightly lower than aforetime. Your stare momentaneously flickered towards his parted, red-bitten lips and he moved closer, one of his hands gradually wrapping around your waist.

He chuckled, "It sounds more like a dream to me," Taehyung corrected, deliberately narrowing the distance between your faces. Your heart quickened as Taehyung's nose touched gently against yours, his head slightly turning so that it was close enough for his lips to brush in feather-like touches on your own. His breath was hot, slightly filled by the aroma of alcohol, and you swore you were being poisoned by it. "Damn, babe, I would have lov—"

"—Taehyung?"

The known timbre that reverberated throughout the deserted kitchen was oddly tranquil, but enough to scare Taehyung to death. Taken off guard, he jumped away from you, staggering backwards and taking all the heat of his presence with him, “You scared the living shit out of me, dude, what the fuck?” he breathed out. Still, his eyes shone like he had been caught doing something wrong, somewhere between the apprehensive and the guilty.

Even before you looked over your shoulder, you were certain of who the owner of the voice was. With all his grace, your pretty starboy managed to have a flawless timing, "Dude, what are you doing? I thought you were going to get something to eat?" Jungkook asked bitterly, traces of irritation ornamenting his tone. He barely looked at you. "Do I have to bring up the Bro Code?"

"No, dude, sorry," Taehyung redeemed himself, however, he did not seem genuinely sorry for his actions. As his startlement progressively started to give out, you could see that he was quite annoyed at the interruption. “I got a little... distracted over here, that’s all."

"I see that," Jungkook scoffed, signaling with his head towards the kitchen door, an unspoken request — if not order — for the other to leave the two of you alone. The mere motion made your heart skip a beat, "Bro Code," he said simply.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, showing clear signs that he wanted to do anything but get out of there. Like a little kid making a fuss, he took one last stubborn glance at you before he left, curses being whispered from in between the lips you almost kissed.

In the middle of a sea of red cups and empty pizza boxes, Jungkook analysed your silhouette for a second, pacing around the kitchen counter with unbearable patience; taking a last slip of his drink. His mere presence was enough for your heart to accelerate again, but you tried to remain focused on your mission for the night, "Bro Code? Really?" you sarcastically questioned.

"Really," he confirmed, tossing his plastic cup into the sink. His tone was undeniably ruder, impatient even. You did not know if you had been successful in your attempt at fermenting jealousy, but you had a very strong guess that you had never seen his posture that stiff aforetime, not even before a big game. Maybe not precisely jealousy, but something had been awakened inside him. Interesting.

Licking your lips, you heard the progression of his steps against the marble floor before verbalizing yet another inquiry, "What was that about?" you pressed on, watching as the boy put his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket, stopping right in front of you, taking the place in which Taehyung once stood. His jaw was clenched, his stare was firm underneath the strands of his black hair. Jungkook never looked so hot. "Do you have some sort of kink for interrupting people?"

"Oh, so I interrupted you two," he chuckled in what appeared to be disgust, though you were not sure. "That's nice."

"I know you’re not precisely the genius on call, but that is kind of obvious," you replied, pretending to be angrier than you really were — in all sincerity, you were everything but angry. You were having the time of your life: who would have guessed that playing a player would feel so good? Certainly not you. "I just met you, why are you acting like this?"

Jungkook shrugged, not even bothering to question what you were referring to, "Bro Code," he said simply.

"What?" you could not help but laugh at his words, unable to believe what he was sharing with you. Amongst your ocean of doubts, you swore that his kind — fratboys, for the lack of a better term — had stop maturing around middle school. That was the only logical explanation for that kind of bullcrap. "Does your Bro Code prevent your friend from kissing me or something?"

The mere hypothetical image of Taehyung lustfully attacking your mouth, holding down to your body, made an unknown rage bubble inside his chest, tightening his lungs. Jungkook, too, could not help the sarcastic laugh that spilled from his sculptural lips, "More or less, yeah," he agreed.

Scoffing, you ran your fingers through your hair. He accompanied the motion, eyes stopping at the level of your breasts, "Wow, that's amazing, isn't it?" you raised your eyebrows, conflicting feelings taking over your mind. Only then a sudden revelation emerged amongst your ponderations — you could not awaken jealousy within him if there was no sort of interest there in the first place. With each passing second, you were more and more certain that Jennie had known something you did not. Not that you were complaining, "Can you stop looking at my boobs for two seconds and give me a good reason for that?" you requested.

Jungkook smiled as his gaze trailed back to meet your own, almost as if he expected you to say so, "Sure thing, baby girl," he complied, clearing his throat.

And, heavens, there were some things not even Jennie could prepare you for.

The boy took another step towards you, making you notice the lust-filled spark that had overtook his onyx eyes, "Where should I start?" Jungkook questioned, but did not expect an answer, "Maybe from the moment you walked through the front door. Shit, I don't think I've seen something so hot in my entire life. Your legs, your ass, your tits, all squeezed in this fucking tight dress. It has been driving me crazy all night," Jungkook practically grunted those words, pulling his hands from his pockets and resting them on either side of your frozen body. In the background, you could hear the muffled beat of the song, but everything became white noise as you lost yourself in his words, "Or maybe when you treated me like that. Pretended you didn’t know who I am. That hurt me, babe, it really did," he said, leaning in and placing his mouth on the curvature of your neck. His warm breath exuded your sensitive skin, and you bit down on your lower lip to keep a sigh from escaping. "And I had to walk back to my friends just thinking about how you didn't even know my name. And how all I wanted was to make you scream it so loud that you'd never fucking forget it."

Hearing all those desire-embellished confessions, which dripped from the tip of his tongue like honey, surely got the best of you. Still, you could not show what kind of effect Jungkook had on you, for the last thing you wanted was to feed his narcissistic ego just a bit more, "That was a beautiful speech," you sarcastically commented, voice coming out a little more confident than you expected. Jungkook planted small kisses on your skin, and you were beginning to lose the line of thought when you reminded yourself that you should remain in control. "But I'm not impressed."

"Oh, but I know that," a chuckle reverberated against your neck, his featherly lips tracing a path up the line of your jaw. You hoped he could not feel the goosebumps that expanded on your smooth skin. His hand landed on the side of your leg, caressing the place lightly; tracing circles with excruciating patience. "And that's exactly the indifference that has been making me lose my fucking mind."

You smiled, satisfied with the reaction you were receiving, and even more with the personal truth that he had decided to share. It was the first time in your life that you were glad Jennie was right about something, "I'm sorry if I hurt your fragile little ego, big boy, but I'm not planning to sleep with you if that means that I'm just your achievement for tonight." you told him. Bullshit — you knew better, Jungkook knew better.

But it was okay. Both of you were just playing a game.

"How cute, you think this has been going on just for a couple of hours," he released a low laugh against the skin of your cheek, moving toward your mouth. The boy swore he could taste the nectar of your tongue already, dripping in between those pretty crimson-painted lips of yours. "Oh no, that would've been too easy."

"Too easy?" You echoed, almost in a trance. Damn, he was good.

"To let it go," Jungkook elucidated, brushing his nose against yours, "To ignore it, to pretend like it didn't happen," one of his hands went to your knee, signaling for you to uncross your legs. After a quick mental debate, you obeyed, "But no, you've been on my radar for a few months now, and coming here with this," he pulled at the hem of your dress, making your pulse adopt a much more accelerated pace. For all you cared, he could tear the fabric from your body right then and there. "And having the nerve to act like that... Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me."

In the breviloquent instants of silence that followed, your fingers skimmed the boy's shoulders, climbing up to the base of his hair, "Show me, then," you provoked, pulling on his locks lightly. The sudden change of attitude made his head spin, and for a moment Jungkook was lost in your sweet scent and firm touches, "Unless you're all talk," you made sure to add.

"Don't you tease me," he warned, his hands coming down to grip your ass and to pull you toward him. Your legs wrapped around his waist, causing your bodies to meet abruptly. The friction was enough for the boy to bite his lip, allowing for a quivering breath to depart from his chest. He was so close that just by talking, you could feel his mouth against yours, the suspire that hit your face in a small cloud of heat. Jungkook was so close that he could kiss you. “You don’t know how much I’m holding back right now.”

You wanted him to kiss you.

"I'm so scared, I'm shaking," you murmured another lighthearted mockery, feeling your lips tingle in anticipation. In his nebulous eyes you could perceive the reflection of your own concupiscence, and you knew that all that he needed was a push to do what both of you seeked for. It just happened that you knew precisely what to say. "What are you waiting for? If you're not doing anything, I'll call Taehyung ba—"

—Your speech was cut short with an aggressive kiss. Abruptly, your body was pulled against his chest as the boy groaned against your mouth, delighting in your essence as his digits dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, and then of your ass. Jungkook was swimming in the golden sea of victory then, floating beyond the roseate clouds of his confidence: he was aware that it had been only a matter of time. It always was. Sooner or later, you would be his to take, as were all the other girls who ever so naively believed they could resist his charms. Sooner or later, he allowed himself to imagine, you would become a moaning mess beneath him, shamelessly begging for more of what he could give you so well. Then, and only then, you would finally regret having tested his patience for so long, for he would test your own.

Or so he thought.

Before Jungkook could grasp the magnitude of what was happening, one of your hands adventured down the expansion of his chest, moving towards his lower body. Quickly, your eager fingers found the growing problem in his dark jeans. You sighed against his lips, not a second of hesitation before you squeezed his erection. In return, the boy’s throat erupted with a low, dragged-out moan; an unspoken warning for the lust that effloresced within his chest, piercing his lungs and heart with poisonous thorns.

Taken back by your own temptation, you massaged his clothed member a few more times. The tortuously sluggish pace was too much for him to take so passively, and so he found himself grinding against your hand, searching for more, "Fuck, babe, that feels good," Jungkook spoke as he leaned back, his swollen, wet lips merely millimeters away from yours. He looked at you like you were the hottest thing he had ever seen and, at that moment, it was precisely how you felt. Power corrupts, after all.

You hummed at his words, showing him that you appreciated his vocal feedback. If you were to be utterly sincere, there were few things in the world able to turn you on more than the idea of someone like Jeon Jungkook decaying into weak whimpers and cries in your hands, grinding against your touches for another taste of relief. If he behaved well, you decided you could give him some playtime too, "You like this, uh?" you inquired, even if the answer was more than clear.

After a particular strong squeeze from your part, his answer came, "Shit, yeah," he grunted, two seconds away from absolutely losing control over his actions. His hips wanted to roll faster, to get more friction, but the logical part of his mind did not want to cause a scene. "I wanted you for so fucking long..."

It was heaven and hell on Earth, and you could feel the frantic beating of his racing heart, a feeling of achievement taking over your body with the same progression, "I wonder what you thought about," your lips traced the outline of his jaw, then went towards his neck, "Have you touched yourself thinking about me? About all the things you'd do to me?" he closed his eyes, concentrating on the way your mouth placed wet kisses on his skin, as your hand seemed to touch his cock in all the right places. Jungkook could feel himself throbbing, and thought that he would not last for much longer like that. "Have you asked yourself how my hands would feel around your cock? Or maybe my mouth? I can feel how hard you are right now, Kookie, and I barely even started having fun with you..."

Jungkook’s breathing got instantly heavier as your sentences moved along, transitioning from one another with flawless grace, embellished by lasciviousness. His eyes closed in concentration, focusing on the hypothetical scenarios that you presented him, "God, (y/n)," your name came out in a moan, the images of you kneeling between his legs intoxicating his brain. The boy swore he could envision it with perfection — his release dripping from in between your reddened lips, your eyes looking up naively at him as you passively swallowed it all. Fuck. "You're gonna make me cum in my pants."

At that moment, neither of you even cared that you were in the middle of the kitchen and anyone could just walk in. To tell the truth, Jungkook even liked the idea a bit more than he should, "You didn't answer," you remarked, your voice no more than a low purr. You raised your head, looking in his hooded eyes. Now open, they seemed to be clouded by devotion, eyebrows slightly raised in a reticent supplication. "Have you touched yourself to the thought of me?"

"Yeah, I have. Fuck, I want to have you all for me,” Jungkook whined as he touched his forehead on yours, his hips rolling against the palm of your hand. It felt so good, “I wanna hear you moaning my name as I eat you so nice and slow that you'll beg me to let you cum all over my face," he continued, holding onto your flesh with all his leftover strength, "I wanna taste you, babe, I wanna — shit — I wanna feel you clenching around my fingers. I bet that pretty face of yours looks amazing when you're coming for me, huh? I bet your voice is the most delicious thing to hear, fuck."

It was your turn to succumb to the metal pictures he gave you, a long moan of satisfaction reverberating in between your lips, "Good boy," you complimented him, putting your hands on the collar of his jacket and pulling him into another kiss. You whined as your tongues met, a sound that quickly turned into a moan as you felt Jungkook's fingers move beneath your dress, lethargically massaging your core over your lacy underwear. You could not avoid the tingling that has spread throughout the region, your body instantaneously reacting to his touches, "Hm— Someone's impatient," you breathed out.

What appeared to be a chuckle fell from his red-colored lips, "You have no fucking idea, babe," his sentence came out in a groan, sounding in the minimum space between your faces before the boy dove back into the honey of your mouth. Impatient was one way to put it.

Eager, Jungkook wanted to touch you everywhere at once, his hands navigating from the curvature of your waist to the smoothness of your exposed legs; from squeezing your breasts to feeling the wetness that started to accumulate on your underwear. Now that your palm no longer worked on his bulge, the boy struggled to discover some — any — kind of friction, rolling his hips against yours; the feeling of his erection grinding blindly against you made him lose all remnants of sanity, "Fuck,” he breathlessly cursed out, forcing himself to move away from your poisonous touches, “Let's go upstairs and I'll show you just how much I want you, baby girl," Jungkook almost ordered.

An order that, doubtlessly, you would never have any problem following.

Even before a proper response could drip from your tongue, the boy was already interlacing your fingers with his, instigating you to jump from the counter and follow him. Resolutely, the two of you walked out of the kitchen and crossed the main living room, paying no mind to the incredulous and investigative eyes that trailed behind you — whether they came from his group of friends, or the other gossiping guests. There were more important things in mind.

The moment your heels found the first step of the stairs, you stopped, feeling a small pair of hands gripping your free wrist.

Jungkook turned around as confused as you, his voice showing just how much he had been taken off guard — your abrupt pause, which made his own steps halt, was the equivalent of a cold shower interrupting a pleasant dream, "What the—"

"—Just a second, champ," Jennie interrupted his complains before they could even unfold, handing you a phone. You looked down at it with bewilderment present in your expression, "You left this with me. I'm going home now, so text me if—"

"—Yeah, whatever," Jungkook answered for you, clearly impatient as you took the device in your hands. Forgetting your precious phone was not something that happened frequently — if ever, that was — so you thought that you had to be really into that stupid bet to do such thing. Talk about being ruled by primordial needs, you pondered. That was what frat parties did to you, nothing more than a time-travel machine into the cavemen times. "Are you done?"

Jennie raised her eyebrows, surprised at the rude tone of your companion. If she had noticed the growing problem in his pants, she surely did not appear like it, "Yeah... I'm done,” the girl agreed with certain hesitation.

"Good," he barely murmured before proceeding to guide you up the stairs.

Oddly diverted by his harsh demeanor, you turned back to your friend, mouthing the syllables that constructed a simple, shy “Sorry!”. Jennie, on her part, just smiled in endless pride, responding with an “I told you!” that barely overlapped the electronic progression of the music.

The path the two of you followed seemed like it was nothing but a blur of forms, part of an unsubstantial reality. Jungkook guided you quickly throughout the corridors of the fraternity house, eyes locked in the place he seeked for. At that moment of peculiar glory and triumph, you did not care about the bottles and the empty cups thrown across the floor; did not care about the ridiculous amount of rooms or the other couples who kissed fervently on the way. All you cared about was the fact that Jeon Jungkook, the guy that could have any girl he wanted, was losing his sanity and his famous charming manners because he ended up choosing you amongst them all. Nonetheless, you were not naive, and knew it was all just another game for him, you were merely another unachievable trophy for him to place on his hall of infamous hook-ups.

But it was okay, because it was a game for you too.

After what was most likely a couple of minutes, the two of you paused in front of a closed bedroom, which you assumed was his own. Jungkook wasted no time in opening the door and gesturing for you to enter the dimly-lit ambient, following suit. Your eyes were carefully examining the decoration — the countless baseball posters on the walls, polaroid-like pictures of him and his friends scattered over a desk — when you heard the passageway closing with a clicking noise behind you.

Presenting no signs of your inner euphoria, you were tranquil as you placed your phone on the nightstand next to his bed, "Why are you still standing there?" you asked as you turned around, meeting his gaze instantaneously.

Jungkook was leaning against the wooden door, lower lip trapped by his white teeth, hooded eyes magnetized by your gorgeous form. All he wanted was to pull you close and fuck you — in that ridiculously tight dress, if manageable — against the nearest wall; to see as you decayed into whimpers and moans under the pleasure he would give you. Nevertheless, he limited himself to watch the movement of your hips as you walked towards him, "I'm looking at you," he spoke out, almost in a mumble. His voice sounded alien to him as well, seeming to be so far away.

His approach alone, like a lion encircling his prey, was enough for you to lick your lips in anticipation, a tingling sensation spreading down your stomach, "I see that," you replied, pausing your steps — your breasts were merely centimeters away from his heavy-breathing chest. Until that moment, you had not fully realized how much you wanted him, but now it was monopolizing every cell of your body, inducing for your heartbeat to follow a frantic progression, "Like what you see?" you whispered.

Firmly, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him, "Babe, you don’t even know what you're doing to me right now," Jungkook licked his lips — an act that, as you came to observe, presented itself once the boy was fully immersed in interest — gaze flickering towards your parted mouth. You leaned back slightly, resting your hands on his muscular chest as you looked up at him, “You’re making me crazy,” he mumbled, almost as if he was confessing a secret to himself.

"Enlighten me," you teased. Jungkook smirked, leaning his mouth against the skin of your neck and making you sigh at the touch. One of his hands shifted to your zipper, lowering it promptly. Your dress slid down your body, uncovering your breasts. "I'm starting to think that you don't bite— Oh!"

Coming to a sudden halt, your voice was trapped in the captive of your throat the second you felt his mouth on your breasts. Warm and soft, you felt his tongue working on one of your nipples as the other was massaged by the gentle squeezes of his slender fingers. You allowed for your eyes to flutter shut, concentrating on the sensation and trying to keep your needy whines from escaping your parted lips. Your dress finally slipped to the wooden floor, forming a puddle at your feet. Jungkook grunted against your bare skin, "Lay down on the bed for me, baby," he almost commanded.

Every cell of your body begged you to obey, and so you did.

Not even a couple seconds passed before the boy was on top of you, stealing your mouth with a fierce kiss. Greedy, Jungkook’s hands explored your body with no patience, squeezing and rubbing your breasts; holding down to your waist; feeling the flesh of your hips and ass. Tracing a path on your smooth skin, Jungkook moved to your neck and the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking you; caressing your belly with his lips; progressively moving lower and lower. Both of you knew where he was heading with that little show, but he liked to take his time.

Gentle, his kisses continued, lips touching the fabric of your underwear. A suspire escaped you once you felt his lips on your covered clit, and only then did you notice how sensitive your entire body was. Upon this realization, which was shared with him, Jungkook permitted for his eagerness to take the best of him, rushing some steps he would much rather keep slow. Part of your consciousness weekly claimed that you should regain control of the situation, but another seeked blindly for what was about to happen. After all, the kid could have a little fun too, couldn't he? And, consequently, so could you.

Mutual winning was something marvelous. You should do that more often.

Obsidian eyes coruscating in desire, the boy raised his head and took his hands to the hem of your underwear, taking it off within seconds. He could not hold back the moan that erupted on his chest the second he saw the state you were in, "Look at you, you're soaked..." he murmured to himself, his low voice trailing off; lost amidst the dense atmosphere. One of his digits traced the path from your opening to your clit, using your own arousal as a lubricant. He drew figures of eight on the spot at a horribly lethargic pace, earning some muffled moans in return; the vague movement of your hips signaling your reticent approval. Still, that was not enough for him. Jungkook moved his fingers back to your entrance, teasing it before entering two fingers inside you.

You cried out, "Oh my god, Jungkook," his unexpected movement made his name slip from your lips like a prayer, your hands flying to hold onto his dark, messy hair. Jungkook appreciated your overwhelmed reaction, and decided to reward you with his mouth, leisurely leaning in and licking your sensitive nub. The combination of the movements of his fingers and his hot tongue working on your clit made you roll your hips toward his face, begging for more.

And only heaven knew how deeply he wanted to fulfill your request, "—You taste amazing, fuck," he grunted against you, the vibrations of his voice making you moan even louder. It was almost embarrassing, but he was working so well on you that you could already feel your orgasm approaching; dwelling in your quivering lips and trembling thighs.

Of course, Jungkook could feel it too. Your aphrodisiac image washed over him in a strong wave; the pressure of your body against his, pressing upwards deliberately, made him lose his mind again and again. He would crawl just to have you like that again, open for him; with your fingers holding tightly to his raven-black hair as you reached closer and closer to your high, "Can you cum for me, babe?" he asked in a breathless suspire, feeling your walls tightening around his digits. "Cum on my fingers for me?"

Lost amongst the currents of your pleasure, you barely managed to gift him with a weak nod, no words escaping from your fast-beating chest. Jungkook slowed down, making you grind desperately against his touches. God, that was the hottest scene he had ever seen — your mouth half open, eyes closed, moans of pleasure echoing throughout the expanse of the muffled room. He could feel the delicious sensation of his throbbing erection pressed against his tight jeans and, before he knew it, he was blindly grinding against the mattress, humping the sheets; looking for any kind of friction, of assuagement.

The rubbing of his cock against the bed made him groan against your wet core, the vibrations of his timbre spreading around your skin; your walls clenching around his fingers, "Jungkook, I-I'm—"

You could not finish, for a long moan erupted in your throat, signaling your long-awaited high. Your orgasm hit you all at once, fireworks shining in your vision as your fingers sank into the boy's hair, urging him never to stop that wonderful sensation that was taking hold of your trembling body. Rising and falling, your hips hoped to prolong that fantastic sensation as they rolled against his face, feeling his mouth sucking and licking your clit again and again; his fingers pumping in and out of you until you were far too sensible to take it. Jungkook stopped once you whined out his name, a smirk of victory embellishing his sculptural lineaments.

After recovering your breath and coming down from your high, you felt the boy move from between your legs, departing from your heat. With heavy eyelids, you watched as Jungkook sat down beside you, his back to the head of the bed, and started to undress himself. He wasted no time removing his bomber jacket and his T-shirt — presenting you with those perfecy defined, delicious abs — throwing it on the floor next to him; then moving on to his pants.

With a frustrated grunt he lowered his trousers, erection throbbing under his white underwear; sensitive to the weakest, most diaphanous of touches. Overtaken by a sudden storm of desire, you felt your heart leap in anticipation, delighting in the angel-like vision — his muscular, heavy-breathing chest; his disheveled, slightly sweaty hair falling over his hooded eyes; and his lips, swollen, red-bitten and wet from your liquids. Jungkook looked like the purest, most hellish image of sin, and you were progressively losing the rest of the self-control you still had to the temptation of having a taste of him. There was a limit.

Nonetheless, as he began to palm himself over the piece of underclothing, you realized that you had reached it.

Almost as if waking up from a momentaneous trance, you placed yourself on your knees and moved closer to where he sat. Without a premeditated idea of what you would do, you simply allowed your body to take the lead, placing your legs on either side of Jungkook’s body; observing with delight as his expression withered into the deepest satisfaction. As brief as it was, the contact of your center against his was enough for him to call out your name.

Still, you had other ideas — as a playful response, you merely reenacted his previous actions, kissing his neck as your hands caressed the muscles of his arms, chest, thighs. Jungkook whined out, feeling as your delicate lips traced a path downwards. From his clavicles to his abs; waist; then closer and closer to his cock, "Now is the time to make your dreams come true, Kookie," you spoke against his hot skin.

Your voice, sounding almost intoxicated, seemed to bring him back to reality, "W-What?" he stuttered.

Languidly, your fingers curled around the hem of his white boxers, "When you thought of me," you continued, pulling his underwear down, "What was I doing to you?" his member jumped out of his prison, hitting his lower body. Your fingers skirted the base, and he grunted impatiently. "How was I doing it?"

"Fuck, babe," Jungkook’s voice came out in an empty prayer, eyes closed as your hands cautiously pumped his length, "Just like that, but hold harder," he instructed, and you obeyed. Your hand went up and down his member with expertise, your thumb rolling around his sensitive head from time to time, "Oh my god, shit, you're fucking good at this, yes, yes..." you fell victim to his praises, which came out in weakened, worn-out whispers. "I want to feel your mouth around my cock, baby girl, I want you to suck me so fucking bad, shit—"

Again, you obeyed, lowering your head and planting a small kiss on the head of his member. Jungkook gripped your hair tightly, pressing for you to continue; unable to hold back the river of his own impatient desire. Your tongue, flat, traced the insubstantial path from his balls to his tip, inducing the boy to moan out in desperation, lifting his hips against your face, defeated, "Baby, please..." he cried out.

Moving your lips away from him, you verbalized a sweet inquiry, "Already begging?" you asked, feeling victorious. Jungkook's gaze met your own, oddly naive one, and he thought he could cum with just that sight alone.

"Kindly asking," he corrected, not wanting to waste another second. "Now, please, just blow me."

"Rude," you commented sarcastically, but still did as requested. He had said ‘please’, after all. How could you turn down such polite appeal?

Now, if it had been any other situation, you would have taken your time to provoke him a little bit further, starting out with small, timid kisses and short movements; only to then evolve to taking him deeper, sucking him harder. Though, in that moment, teasing Jungkook was the last thing on your nebulous mind — furthermore, you could see it in his eyes and in his body that he would not last long enough. Desperate times require desperate measures.

Lowering yourself, you took his cock in your mouth, sucking his tip one, two times before leaning back a little bit. Ignoring the whimpers that fell from his swollen lips, you licked his sensible spot before, finally, diving in and taking as much as you could. Quickly, you had already set a place, sucking and emptying your cheeks as you raised your head; repeating that movement until Jungkook turned into a moaning mess beneath your touches.

"Yeah, babe, fuck, just like that," he moaned out, tirelessly praising how amazing you were, "You take my cock so well, oh my god," you hummed around him, causing him to start lifting his body from the mattress. The pre-cum taste was already taking over your mouth, and he was getting closer and closer to his high. "Fuck, (y/ n), I think I'm—"

Without a speck of hesitation, you moved away from him. His member left your mouth as you sat back on the mattress, finding amusement in Jungkook’s almost palpable despair — flushed cheeks and half-open lips, eyebrows slightly raised in a reticent sign of his bewildered frustration. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. "What the—"

"—Condom," you interrupted his question with that simple word. Fortunately, his chaotic ponderations did not block him from catching the very obvious message, and soon pointed to the drawer besides the bed.

Jungkook accompanied with amazement as you moved back with the condom, opening it and placing it around his cock with no further issue. Lost amongst the enchantment of your form, he could only bite down on his lower lip as you placed yourself on top of his erect member, a few centimeters away from it — the expectation was driving him towards the edges of his sanity, "Please, I want to feel you so bad," he cried out, his hands gripping at your hips.

"I hope you're not 'kindly asking' again," you purred, putting your hands on his broad shoulders for sustentation — if you were to be sincere, you, too, could not wait for much longer. "Because I want to hear you beg for it,"

Pride long relinquished, Jungkook did not hesitate as much as you expected, "Fuck, please," his voice came out bordering on a cry for clemency, his onyx eyes expressing the fragility of his position. You swore there were tears accumulating at the corners of his lids, "Please, please, baby girl, I want to feel how tight you are, I'm going crazy, please—" you bit your lip. Forget everything that you claimed aforetime, that was the best thing that happened throughout your entire academic life. "Please, I need to cum, please..."

Well, that was good enough for you. As much as you would like to claim that it was simply your benevolence coming out to end his delayed relief, you were more worried about your own high, the utter neediness that had already taken ahold of your mind. With a suspire that soon morphed into a moan, you lowered your body and sunk onto his cock — Jungkook fit you perfectly, spreading you wide open and hitting all the right spots.

The boy, on his part, closed his eyes and moaned in endless relief, throwing his head back as he delighted on the sensation of your walls closing around him, "God, you're just tight, so wet," Jungkook spoke in a mumble, almost as if he was talking to himself. Holding tightly to your ass, his hands guided your movements to become a bit faster, your hips raising and falling on his member continuously. "Let me hear you say my name, babe, please..."

Trapped by your own pleasure, you could nothing but follow his requests, "Jungkook," you moaned out his name, eyes closing in delight. The sensation that was rushing throughout your body was fantastic to experience, and you wished to get lost in every second of it.

Even before you could fully digest on the shadow of concentration that fell upon his features, his demeanor suffered a strong switch, "Louder," Jungkook commanded. Actually commanded. With a firm, dominating voice and unshakable determination, the game changed — though, you could not say you did not like idea. If he wanted to take the lead, he could be your guest.

"Jungkook!" you verbalized his name louder, your walls tightening around his member as your delight increased in geometric progression. Satisfied with your compliance, he moved one of his hands to the back of your head and gently pulled your face close to his, joining your lips in a needy, sloppy kiss.

Breathless by desire, Jungkook moaned your name against your lips. In the subsequent second, he was already pulling away, "Turn your back to me, baby, and sit down again," he spoke with calmness, but his eyes were flooded with savagery.

You did not want to stop your moments — hell, your orgasm was just behind the corner — but you found yourself unable to go against Jungkook’s orders. After turning your back to him, you wasted no time before you sank back onto his cock, feeling one of the boy's hands move around the curvature of your waist. Before you could even inquire what he was planning to do, his digits found your clit, lethargically massaging the place as your hips rolled against his member.

Jungkook moaned and groaned against the back of your neck, feeling your walls tightening around his throbbing member; the overstimulation driving you crazy by each passing second, "Are you close, baby girl?" he found the strength to whisper against your ear, getting a muffled response in return. With movements benumbed by his own pleasure, he brushed your sweaty hair away from your neck, placing small kisses on the spot. "I wanna feel you cumming around my cock, can you do that for me?"

"Y-Yeah," you agreed in a diaphanous suspire, tears piling up in the corner of your eyes as the pressure in your stomach grew at an alarming rate. The heat of his body irradiated all around you, his muffled whines and groans against your skin only made you dive deeper into your carnal needs. You swore you could sense your orgasm close, waltzing just at the tip of your fingers; tracing spectral lines up and down your spine. "Jungkook, oh god—"

"—Shit, don't stop, babe," Jungkook could not hold himself back, beginning to lose his own line of thought to the sweetness of your touches. "I'm close too."

"C-Cum for me, please," you barely got out before another exclamation of pleasure fell from in between your lips, echoing past your flesh. Suddenly it was all too much — the way you rode him, how deeply and flawlessly he filled you; the movement of his fingers rubbing your clit again and again. You were going to cum.

His lungs did not seem like they were capable of working anymore; his heartbeat reverberated inside his head like a personal symphony, "That's so fucking hot," the boy murmured, biting lightly onto the skin of your shoulder in a moment of mindless lust. "I'm gonna cum, babe, I'm—"

—His sentence was cut in half by a muffled grunt, Jungkook raising his hips in a desperate attempt to further enhance the pleasure he was feeling. He reached deeper and faster inside you, holding to your flesh as his cock throbbed inside you; feeling the perfect way your walls clenched around him as you came undone. Listening to his name dripping in fragmented syllables from your tongue, Jungkook cursed and moaned behind you, breathing heavily as he descended from his climax, the hypersensitivity taking over his exhausted body.

There was a moment of silence and static as you two calmed your fast-beating hearts. In an unforeseen presentation of tenderness, Jungkook placed small kisses on the curve of your shoulder and neck, moving to caress your waist in a surprisingly affectionate fashion, "You're incredible, baby," the overwhelmed boy praised, his voice hoarse — yet calm, loving almost. "Worth waiting every second."

Unable to hold back the frail smile that effloresced upon your dahlia-stained lips — which he did not see — you moved slowly as you left his lap. Trembling legs and exhausted arms induced you to lay down on his side, placing your head against the soft, cloud-like pillows, "You're not so bad yourself," you spoke back, no trace of sarcasm within your tone. Your little starboy had lived up to his fame, after all.

Jungkook presented you with a lighthearted laugh, running his hands through his sweaty hair. His eyes absent-mindedly moved to the nightstand, gaze meeting the neon red lines of his clock, "Five A.M. already,” he verbalized, surprised at how quickly the night had gone by. That is what happens when you are having fun, he thought. “You should sleep here."

You hummed in quick confusion, your slumberous mind finding it difficult to focus on his tone, "I can go home, I don't mind," you told him, even if it was not the absolute truth. With no sleep and that kind of exercise, you did not think you could get out of bed, let alone walk to the other side of the campus. With high heels, mind you.

Jungkook yawned, forcing himself to move closer to the margins of the bed, "No, no," he assured you, standing up with a prolonged groan. "Stay the night. It’s no problem, baby."

Grinning in a mixture of unpreparedness and certain happiness, you watched Jungkook as he lethargically went into the bathroom, possibly to clean himself up, and closed the door with a low clicking noise. Once the coast was clear, you reached out of the nightstand, looking for your phone as the exhaustion of the night gradually took over your euphoric ponderations. Just as expected, it had been a hellish taste of paradise, and you adored every second of your little adventure.

Unlocking the device, you went directly to your recent text messages. By clicking on Jennie's contact name, you were quick to type two simple words, thinking about how you never felt so blissful to be wrong about something:

You won.

#bts fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #reader insert #jungkook x you #bts x you #fratboy jungkook #fuckboy jungkook #college jungkook #fratboy bts #fuckboy bts #bts #bangtan boys #smut

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cherryyharryy · 5 years

Text

Chapter 8: True Ribs

It feels so scary, getting old

*A BIG thank you to @loveandyourstrulyh for helping me with this chapter!!!!!*

The thick, black scarf wrapped around Adeline’s neck proved to be of little protection to the cold biting at her skin. She tried to keep her tongue from swiping across her lips as it only aided the wind in drying them out. The walk from her last class to her car became longer each time she made it.

The meeting she’d had with her advisor that morning was still floating around her mind. The only thing that kept her from calling Harry with the good news she had was the opportunity to tell him in person, to see his face light up rather than imagining it while on the phone. And she’d be counting down the last few days until Thanksgiving break by the minute.

“Shit.” She slipped on a patch of ice, wobbling until she regained her footing and checking over her shoulder for anyone who saw. She took to shuffling from there on, her head conjuring up warmer days and sweeter nights, pulling her summer dresses out from the back of her closet, spending soft nights outside with Harry, under fairy lights and the gentle crackling notes of The Beatles from his damn record player he's yet to buy. Maybe a trip to the beach or lake, fireside evenings and slipping into bed after one too many fruity drinks.

She was snatched from her day dream when white flecks started falling before her eyes. She tugged the hood of her coat over her head and quickened her pace, determined to get to her car before it really started coming down.

***

"Nicole?" Adeline peeled the layers of her clothing off, tossing them in the corner next to the front door as she headed towards the living room. "Hey—”

"I'm glad you're back, I've been needing to talk to you."

Nicole's voice sounded more motherly than usual, which only ignited the developing fear that'd been crawling up her spine as of late. Her first words to Adeline after she returned from her impromptu stay with Harry at the crummy motel had been enough to humble her.

“Oh, I assumed you weren't coming back. I've already started packing your things.”

Sure enough, boxes had been stacked on her bed and piled along the walls of her room, which Adeline emptied and tossed in the trash before Nicole could get another word in. She had avoided her cousin as best she could since then. If she wasn't around she couldn't be kicked out, and maybe if she stayed away enough it wouldn't bother Nicole so much that she lived there.

"It's freezing in here. Have you turned the heat on today?"

"Adeline, we need to discuss some things." Nicole peered over her shoulder from her place on the couch, the basket of laundry sat by her feet as she folded a towel into equal thirds before smoothing it out and adding it to the stack on the coffee table.

Adeline drew in a breath, mentally preparing herself for whatever lecture was awaiting her. "Okay, what's up?"

"I think it's time you found your own apartment."

Right, straight to the point. She had no way out of this. "I don't understand why you hate me being here?"

"I don't hate it, but you're an adult, and you need to start acting like one. How long were you planning on staying anyway?"

"I—I didn't really have a time in mind, I guess just as long as needed." Adeline rounded the couch and sunk down into the leather armchair. She stretched her legs out in front of her and let her chin drop to her chest with a sigh. “Just until I got started on, life, I guess.”

"And how long will that be?"

"I don't know." Adeline shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek.

Nicole shook her head, little lines appearing across her forehead as her arms crossed over her chest. "See, this is why it's time you moved out. It's time to grow up."

Adeline’s stomach twisted in knots at the reality unfolding before her. Surely, this would blow over; she may have to seriously start helping out around here, but there was no way Nicole was actually going to make her leave.

"I'm sorry, I know I've been a burden to you, but I promise to contribute more. I can take over half of the chores, and we can alternate buying groceries each month, and—"

"No, Adeline. No more begging, you just can't stay here any longer. I'm not your mother, and I haven't enjoyed playing one these past months."

“What?” Adeline shot up from the chair, steam puffing out from her ears. “You've got to be kidding me! That's all you've ever done, even when we were kids you acted like a parent to me!"

"Don't be so dramatic. The only thing I'm concerned with is our current situation, which simply isn't working out anymore."

“But we can make it work!”

“You’re not motivated, Adeline. When I was in college one of the first things I did was get a job. I had everything planned out by the time I finished my first year, and stayed on track to graduate. I took summer classes...you’ve already dropped out of one class and it’s only your first semester.”

“The professor was crazy! I couldn’t understand anything he was saying!”

“This isn’t up for discussion.” Nicole fished through the basket until she found the match to the small white sock in her hand. “So—”

“It is! It is up for discussion! It’s my life, remember? And besides, I am motivated, I picked my major today. Filled out the paperwork and everything.”

“So you just picked it. Woke up and decided to be...what? Astronaut? Ballerina?”

Adeline stared her cousin down, swallowing all the words she wanted to say, the words she wanted to throw right in her snobby face before gritting out the major she’d been excited about announcing.

“English Literature.”

Nicole’s face didn’t move, in fact, her entire body froze. Other than a few slow blinks, she sat completely motionless with a half-folded scarf in her hands. After a few slow minutes she finally cleared her throat and continued lining up the edges of the scarf in her lap.

“Have you told your parents?”

“No. haven’t told anyone.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise choice. English, I mean.”

“And just why is that?”

“Because,” Nicole mused, “it’s not a stable choice. What are you even going to do with that degree?”

“Write. I can be a writer.”

Nicole halted her movements once again and looked up to Adeline with a roll of her eyes. “Write? And what exactly are you, someone who’s never written anything before in her life, planning on writing?”

“I don’t kn—”

“The back of a cereal box? Or maybe a corny slogan for toothpaste?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hey! Language!”

“Shit, Nicole! I can’t—no! Y’know what? Forget it! Forget I even said anything!” Adeline stomped past her cousin, yanking her clothes off the floor as she went. Right before she stepped into the hall she paused and collected Nicole’s attention. “I should’ve expected such an answer from you, from someone so...so, so vanilla!”

She made it halfway to her room when the slur of thoughts in her head formed another sentence worth spewing out. She spun on her heel and stepped back into the living room where Nicole’s stunned face hadn’t moved an inch.

“And another thing, I haven't enjoyed your overbearing ways either and I should've left a long time ago. I don't deserve to be talked down to by someone who's only a few years older than me."

Picture frames swayed on the wall after Adeline slammed her door and the absurdly expensive cookbook she’d bought for Nicole's Christmas present was slung off the dresser, landing in a heap on the rug.

With all the anger surging through her she still felt a little relief. Getting away from Nicole is what she needed. She had just pushed it to the back of her mind to worry about later.

This is all for the best, everything will be okay.

"Adeline."

Dear God.

She threw the door open to see Nicole's stone cold face. "What?" she gritted.

"I wanted to tell you that you don't have to leave right away. Just be sure to be out before spring semester begins."

"Oh, thank you, Nicole, how generous of you."

"Excuse me? What's generous is me letting you stay here for almost five months! Need I remind you of the bills you don't pay? Or the food?"

"You cannot hold that over my head! I have offered since day one to help pay for things, but nooo. 'Don't worry about it Adeline, you're my guest.'" She was seething by now, her grip on the door frame digging into her skin, and she suddenly missed the chill from outside.

"Just forget it, you're immature and ungrateful!" Nicole’s voice raised for the first time. “I can’t believe I actually thought I could have an adult conversation with you! You have no clue about life and what it means to be independent!”

“And kicking me out solves that!? Just because I don’t have every fucking detail of my boring life planned out like you did doesn’t make me an idiot, Nicole!”

“Real mature, Adeline.” Nicole seethed, her head moments away from popping off her neck. “And yes, you moving out does solve the problem.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “You won’t have to worry about my boring life, and I won’t have to worry about the day I tell your parents you’ve dropped out or failed or whatever screw up is in store for you.”

The door slammed shut with a sharp jolt and the pictures swayed once again as Adeline flung herself on the bed. After screaming into her pillow for a solid ten seconds she rolled over with a tear stained face, searching for a distraction with the view from her window.

Snow pelted the glass, wind howling through the bare trees. The sky was as white as the blanket on the ground, the only color being the red brick house that sat on the corner.

She stared past the frosted glass, the falling ice and dead trees, watching the couple that lived in that little corner house step out of their door, bundled in coats and scarves, as they piled up the fallen snow into the beginnings of a snowman.

Jealousy was the basis. The bottom line, foundation, of the shattering despair fueling the tears down her still hot cheeks.

Jealous of the kids in her class who barely made it to class, a Sunday morning hangover still lingering from the weekend parties they'd spent with boyfriends and girlfriends.

Jealous of the brick house couple, who weren't as old as she’d first thought, just a few years past her and Harry that she discovered on an early morning jog back in September—married homeowners with plans of a spring baby—the newlywed had gushed while checking her mail.

Jealous of the ones at graduation who had their whole life planned out, most of them probably busy with internships, wedding plans, and credit scores while she lays here, a sobbing mess.

Jealousy and fear were not a good mix.

***

“You’re going out? But you just got here?”

“You’re going to bed anyways.” Adeline slipped her jacket on and pulled her keys from her purse. “You’ll see me in the morning.”

“I just thought you’d wanna spend all your time at home.”

“I will. It’s just one night.” Adeline pressed a kiss to her mom’s head. “You’ll have me all week.”

“Is this because of what Nicole said?”

“What? Why—”

“Well she called over the weekend and said you were pretty upset. About your major, and that she tried to explain—”

“Nicole is an idiot, okay, just—it doesn’t matter. I’ll be back by eleven.”

Adeline stormed out of her house and managed to get into her car before the tears broke through her will power. She peeled out of her driveway and took off down the street, cursing Nicole’s name at every light.

***

“Where are you?”

“That gas station where you fell that one time and hurt your ankle.”

“Al’s? What’re you doing all the way out there? It’s like an hour away?” Harry scrambled around his room to snatch up his wallet and keys. His phone was tucked between his ear and cheek as he slipped his shoes on.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Adeline groaned, “don’t patronize me right now.”

“M’not, I just wanna know why the hell you’d drive off at night—”

“I didn’t plan on a flat tire! I thought I’d be back home by now!”

“Hey, don’t snap at me! It’s almost midnight and you call me to tell me you’re stranded, I’m worried sick alright!”

Adeline sighed through the phone. “Okay, okay, just, don’t let your mom see you leave. My parents will kill me if they find out.”

“I know the drill. I’ll get there as soon as I can, alright? M’leaving now.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

***

Harry cringed when his car pulled up to Al’s. Gravel rolled under his tires and then under his feet as he sprinted inside the small concrete building, passing Adeline’s car on his way in. His chest was pulled tight until he saw Adeline hunched over with her head in her hands, sat at one of the three wobbly booths in the corner of the store.

“You’re gonna get in trouble you know.”

“I don’t even care.”

Harry slid in the booth across from her, pulling her hand that was busy tugging on the end of her jacket towards him, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Last time you got home late you dragged me under the bus. Are we gonna have a repeat of that? Need to know so I can figure out my excuse for my mum.”

“I’m not in the mood, Harry.”

He breathed out a sigh and inched closer, bowing his head to look her in the eyes. “What’s goin’ on, bug? Why’re you all the way out here?”

Adeline shook her head and twisted her face in disgust. “Fucking Nicole pissed me off. Don’t know why I’m so surprised.”

“What’d she do now?”

“I—she just, ugh! Kicked me out for one thing, then thought it’d be a good idea to practically bash my major.”

“You picked your major?”

Adeline narrowed her eyes at Harry. “And she kicked me out. There’s no way I’ll be able to get a job and an apartment before next semester! What the hell is she thinking, anyway?”

“M’sure if you talked to her you could work something out, maybe chip in on the rent.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Adeline groaned. She pulled her hand away from Harry and resumed her earlier position with her face pressed into her hands.

Harry slid out from his seat and squeezed in next to her. His arm was wrapped around her back and he pulled her close to his side, resting his cheek against her head. “It’ll all work out,” he whispered.

“I hope so.”

“You wanna go get what you need out of your car?”

With a shaky nod she was leading Harry back outside. Her car was freezing when she slipped in, grabbing her school bag from the back seat and plopping it down in her lap. To lessen her load she began stuffing her purse inside the bag, a pointless attempt that had her pounding the steering wheel when she finally realized it wouldn’t fit. The passenger door opened a second later.

“Y'alright in there?”

“I just hate my life but other than that, yeah, everything’s great.”

“Hey,” Harry cooed, slipping in and shutting out the cold behind him. “Take a deep breath, okay.” His hand instinctively smoothed over her tense back in small circles. “You don’t have to figure everything out right away. And you’re not gonna be out on the street, darling. You know your parents will let you move back in in a second.”

Adeline’s lip was shaking when she finally looked back up into his eyes, and Harry knew it was only a matter of seconds before tears would be pouring down her face. “It’s—it’s too far to drive.”

“Baby—hey, c’mere.” He leaned over the console and enveloped her the best he could manage in the small, cramped space. His fingers swiped away the tears as they began to fall.

“It’s too long of a commute. And next semester I have an early class.” Her voice wobbled, muffled by Harry’s shoulder where he was cradling her head. “I’d have to fucking leave at like four in the morning.”

Her shoulders shook. Every positive endearment that Harry tried out fell against deaf ears. She countered everything he whispered against her hair with an unapproachable argument.

“Do you know how much that’s gonna cost me in gas? Every day? And my parents will drive me insane!” She squeezed him tighter, releasing all her pent up frustration in a crushing grip. Her voice lost its strength, coming out softly against his neck. “She was right. And I fucking hate her for it.”

“Who’s right, love?”

“Stupid Nicole. About my stupid major. I don’t know who the hell I think I am, English Lit, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“What?” Harry pulled back, reigning in the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re gonna do it? You’re really gonna write?”

“No, it was stupid—”

“Hey now,” Harry scolded, “absolutely not. Look at me.”

Adeline reluctantly lifted her head, supported by Harry’s gentle hand under her chin.

His voice was soft but stern. “Listen t’me, alright? I think it’s incredible, I’m so proud of you. Who cares what Nicole thinks, okay. As long as you’re happy that’s all that matters.”

She didn’t move for a minute, letting Harry’s words seep into her brain as they fought for dominance with the negative mantras that’d set up camp a week prior. She wiped away a few stray tears and cleared her throat, timidly pulling out a notebook from her bag and flipping towards the front. Her nerves were on fire and a part of her was screaming, begging her to close the notebook and sooth her desperation with more of Harry’s sweet words. She didn’t need his approval. She writes because she loves it. It’s her escape and her imagination’s best friend.

Harry had been nothing short of respectful when it came to the stories she scribbled out in the book. He never pried or snuck a peek; never looked over her shoulder when she was hunched over, pen in hand as she laid down her thoughts and immersed herself into a new character.

The first time he’d seen her pull the book out he was naturally curious. It was a worn, faux leather with a strap that wrapped around twice to secure it in place. When she had opened it a few slips of paper fell to the floor where she snatched them up before he could finish the descent down to retrieve them for her.

“Is that for school?”

“Uh, no, not really.” Adeline sat back into the chair in the corner of Harry’s room, curling her legs close to her chest and angling herself so she had the perfect view of the heavy rain falling outside his window.

Harry had nestled himself on the floor beside her, wrapped up in a thick blanket with To Kill a Mockingbird in his hands. “So is that like your diary? Do you write about me in there?” She glanced down at his cheeky smirk. “Did you write about last Tuesday night?”

His eyebrows danced across his forehead and she wanted to smack them off. She rolled her eyes and bowed her head to hide the bashful look on her face. “No, you dork. It’s just, I don’t know. I like to write I guess.”

“You do?” He perked up, straightening his back and widening his eyes up at her. “Prose?”

She nodded, cheek bitten between her teeth.

“That’s fucking awesome, Addy.”

She blinked a few times but her brain hadn’t fooled her. He had the biggest smile spread across his face and if she wasn’t mistaken, pride in his eyes.

“My baby’s a writer!” he gushed. “Look at you, just when I thought I couldn’t love yeh anymore!”

“Shut up.”

“Will not.” He slid out of the blanket and shuffled over on his knees before standing up and taking her hand in his. He pressed one kiss to her knuckles and then bent over to kiss her forehead. “You’re pretty cool, y’know that?”

She rolled her eyes but darted in for a quick peck on his lips.

“So can I…”

She followed his gaze down to her notebook in her lap and slid it closer to her body. “Um, n-no.” She cleared her throat and peered up at him through her lashes. “It’s not you, I mean, well I don’t let anyone see what I write. It’s just for me.” Her voice had fallen to a somber whisper.

Harry’s face didn’t falter, and if anything his sweet smile grew. “Of course, whatever you want.” He kissed her once more and re-settled himself back into his blanket on the floor.

“You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s yours, and it’s personal. I don’t own your privacy.”

Adeline ran through the memory while Harry’s hands stroked her face and arms, reminding her to breath and assuring her that she was in fact, going to be okay. “I um, well here.” She handed the notebook to Harry. “Tell me what you think. And be honest.”

Harry looked back and forth between the words etched onto the page and her face. “You sure? You don’t have to y’know? I mean, I know your writing’s private and—”

“I’m sure. If everyone else is gonna read it one day, might as well get used to it.”

Harry let his eyes drift down where he devoured the short story Adeline had poured her heart into. Her notebook weighed thick and heavy in his hands and a part of him felt like he wasn’t actually holding it, like it wasn’t actually her thoughts splayed out on paper and her mind’s handiwork resting in his palms. He was invading, witnessing the words he’d seen her drain onto the pages countless times from across the room where she’d been hunched over with her nose in the book.

He read over it once, then again, and then a third time before he uttered a word. “I, baby, this is...it’s incredible.” He looked up with a slack jaw, shaking his head in disbelief. “I always thought you’d be good...but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“You sure you’re not just saying that? ‘Cause you feel like you have to? Because it won’t bother me if you don’t like it.”

“Not like it? Addy, this is beautiful.”

“I mean it, Harry.”

“So do I. Darling, the way you described everything, and the depth and detail, felt like I was really there.”

Adeline nodded and Harry caught one last tear trailing down her cheek. “Thank you.”

He leaned over and lingered his lips on her warm skin, easing into a soft kiss. “Thank you for sharing. And I think there’s one more person who should see this. If you’re okay with that.”

Adeline pulled back and sighed. “I guess I’ll get my first real review.”

***

“Was that the last one?”

“Umm, yeah.” Adeline took the dinner plate from her mom’s soapy hands. “Did um, did Nicole say when she was leaving?”

“No, why?”

“No reason.”

“Harry sure enjoyed himself,” her mom laughed, tossing the towel she dried her hands with on the counter. “I’ve never seen him eat that much.”

Adeline shrugged and set the plate with the others back into the cabinet. “It’s Thanksgiving, you’re supposed to eat a lot.”

Her mind was elsewhere, and if she’s honest she couldn’t tell you if Harry stole the turkey and devoured the entire thing on his own while everyone else watched in horror. She vaguely remembers him sitting beside her and she’s not even sure if she ate anything at all. The only thing she’s really aware of is the small argument her and Harry had before dinner about Nicole, and then Nicole’s arrival that had the both of them scurrying off to hide out in her room.

What was really eating at her was the ridiculous fear she had towards her cousin. The power this woman who was just a few years older had over Adeline was sickening, and her tactic to plead for a second chance scarred her pride more than she’d like to admit.

“Need anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it, till next year,” her mom clapped, “I think everyone’s in the living room. I’m gonna go change real quick—you should ask grandpa to tell his fishing story for Harry! But wait till I get back!”

Adeline was left alone as her mom scurried off, but not for long when Harry peaked around the corner, a small smile on his face.

“You okay?” He strolled into the kitchen, one hand behind his back and the other reached up to pull her into his side.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Maybe this is stupid, I think it makes me look like I’m trying to hard, y’know?”

“You are trying hard. That’s the point.” Harry revealed her notebook from behind his back, already flipped to the page with the story they’d chosen together to show Nicole. “Just remember what we talked about.”

Adeline nodded and slipped the notebook into her own hands. “But what if Nicole—”

“What if Nicole...what?”

The couple turned around startled, both glancing back and forth between each other and Nicole. She stood at the doorway with an empty glass in her hand. She took two steps before crossing her arms and challenging them to speak with an irritated look on her face.

“Uh, I was wanting, to um,” Adeline stammered, “I wanted to talk about our arrangement. About me staying with you.”

“We’ve already discussed this—”

“No, you discussed it.”

“It’s my apartment.”

“You offered for me to stay with you, remember? I didn’t ask or just show up! I don’t think it’s fair that you just decide that you’re done and you want me gone, and then to expect me to just stumble across a job and find someplace to live?”

“If you had showed more motivation in your life I’d feel differently. You don’t think ahead, you have no goals. When I started college I—”

“I don’t care what you did! It doesn’t matter what you did! I’m doing what I need to do for myself!”

“Adeline, you’re not thinking about your future. You’re only concerned with the present moment, I mean, you can’t even choose a reasonable major.”

“I—” Adeline sucked in a deep breath and held back the storm of words waiting on her tongue.

Harry had been silent the entire time, standing back and watching the two women work things out...if that’s what he could call it. He didn’t want to step in and micromanage, but when Adeline looked over with tears in her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, signaling her defeat, he spoke up.

“Why don’t you read some of Addy’s writing. Might change your mind.”

“What writing?”

“I’ve been writing for a while now.” Adeline’s voice wobbled.

Nicole hesitantly took the notebook from her cousin’s outstretched arm. Her brows were raised in defiance as she lowered her gaze from Adeline’s desperate glare to the page with a heartbreaking story about love and loss scribbled out in red ink.

Releasing her book to Nicole wasn’t relieving like she’d hoped for it to be. Adeline pushed the thought of snatching it out of her hand and running out of the room away. This was a mistake, she thought. There was no way any good could come out of this. Nicole would just humiliate her once again, point out her flaws and reiterate her desire to get her out of her apartment.She was terrified, equipped with a racing heart and sweaty palms, already accepting her defeat.

Harry counted the pages as they turned, and held his breath once he knew she was on the last one. Nicole’s face had relaxed, and once she finally looked up, he saw a softness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“You wrote this?”

Adeline nodded.

Nicole started to flip the page but stopped and cleared her throat. “Can I read more?”

Harry and Adeline exchanges glances before she slipped the notebook from Nicole’s grasp and flipped the pages to the middle of the book. “You can read this one.”

#ribsfic #ribsc8 #harry styles #writing #harry styles writing #harrystyles #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #sorry this took ten years

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builder051 · 5 years

Text

Higher (Part I)

Daredevil! Avocados at Columbia. This is Part 1 of what I hope to be a 3-parter. I wanted it to be a one shot, but it’s too long. I have about half of part 2 written, and it will come (hopefully) within the week.

_____

Can you take me higher?

To the place where blind men see

Can you take me higher?

To the place with golden streets

_____

Matt’s so relieved to be inside that he almost slips on the patch of bare linoleum in the doorway to his room. His shoes are wet from wading through the soupy trenches of snow that criss-cross the quad. It’s the first full day of classes after the holiday break, but the campus still seems winterized, as if maintenance isn’t expecting students back for a few more days.

Matt breathes in sharply and reaches for the wall, his cane dropping from his limp grip. He’s not too impressed with the way the air burns on its way out of his throat. He feels like he could cough up a fish hook. And there are another 15 or so scraping around in his sinuses.

Matt almost expects to hear the tinkle of fine metal hitting the floor. The sound of his cane bouncing off something big and hollow catches him off guard, but it brings him back to reality. His brain makes the jump, the oh of realization, even though the rest of the faculties necessary to think in words haven’t caught up yet.

“Whoa there.” Swiveling wheels bump over a ridge and grind to a stop on the industrial-grade carpet. Foggy’s suitcase falls over almost immediately. “Hey, buddy.” His voice hitches as he bends to right it, and he hands the cane back to Matt upside-down.

The tip is freezing and gritty against Matt’s palm. “Oh,” he replies lamely. His ability to speak in multi-syllabic words is still offline.

“Whoops.” Foggy straightens up and flips the cane. Matt hears the sleeve of his friend’s sweatshirt brush the body, worn jersey swishing against worn jersey. Presumably he’s holding out the cane and waiting for Matt to take it. But Matt doesn’t need it now; their tiny dorm room is easy to navigate without it, even when stray suitcases pose a trip hazard. Maybe Foggy forgot. Or leftover Christmas cheer is making him extra polite.

“Here ya go, Matt.”

Foggy seems casual enough, but Matt’s ears are ringing, and he doesn’t have enough input from his other senses to tell if he’s putting on airs. Fear and stress induce observable changes, like quickened heart rate and a sour tang to the air. But mild concern sounds like nothing and smells like potato chips and Downy.

A drip escapes Matt’s nose and shivers for a moment before it runs down his upper lip. He wipes the moisture with the back of his hand, cringing a little at the savagery of it. Foggy’s not exactly clean and tidy, but Matt still expects him to unleash a comment or two about acting civilized.

“I’ll just put it here for you.” Foggy steps around his suitcase and leans the cane against the wall beside Matt’s bed. “Alright?”

“Hm?” Was that a question? Is he supposed to answer? Matt jars himself out of the murky world of memory just as he remembers where he was criticized with such pre-Columbian terminology. Sister… what was her name? The one who was a missionary in Asia. Or was it Africa?

Matt’s wristwatch slides an inch or so up his forearm, pulling hairs painfully taut between the icy metal and tender skin. He forces his thoughts through the intervening decade at warp speed, trying to focus on now. On whatever Foggy just asked, or didn’t ask. “Yeah,” Matt says with a wince.

There’s a beat of awkward silence, then the fan of the heater kicks on with a whine, and a gust of hot, dry air blows down from the vent in the ceiling. Matt expects it to feel good. Compared to the drafty halls of the orphanage, a room with a direct connection to the heating system is a luxury. He supposes somewhere in the depths of his brain he’s glad to be rid of the chill in his bones, but the relief is lost in a slick of clamminess beading on his forehead. A minute ago he could excuse his malaise as tiredness. But now Matt just feels sick.

“Huh?” It’s Foggy’s turn to be confused. Matt analyzes his reaction like a brain teaser, grateful for the distraction from what’s quickly becoming nausea. Foggy hadn’t uttered a full word, but his voice was full of the drawn-out, wistful cadence that comes with a stretch of the short-term memory. He’s trying to remember if what Matt said jives with what he originally asked.

“You ok, bud?” He must’ve decided it didn’t. Foggy pulls his pop-up hamper out of Matt’s desk chair, spinning it around and throwing the nylon bag into a slippery heap on his side of the room.

Matt wonders if he’s pale. He’s on the point of shrugging and saying he’s fine, but Foggy keeps talking.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to a party, but I’m gonna go ahead and go with no.” He puts his hand on Matt’s shoulder and squeezes a subtle invitation for him to sit.

The touch of Foggy’s palm doesn’t typically feel like barbed wire. Especially not a gentle gesture through two layers of clothing. The problem’s not with Foggy, though. Mat knows it’s all on him.

“How’d you guess?” Matt tries to joke as he sits. He doesn’t do a good job, but his head gives a renewed throb anyway. It’s like attempting to be funny has drained another reserve from his energy bar. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, head tilted sideways and his cheek pressed against the bony ridges of his knuckles. The difference in temperature between his hands and his face is extreme. The whole setup feels precarious, like he could tumble forward onto the carpet at any moment.

“Oh, something about your color,” Foggy says. He moves his suitcase again, tucking it against the foot of his bed and retracting the handle. “It’s like the snow outside.” He laughs sympathetically. “And that’s not the fresh, pretty kind.”

So it’s worse than Matt thought. He’s past pale, onto grey. “Thanks,” he mutters. Then, “Sorry.” He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, though he’s trembling so much he practically sticks his thumb through his orbit. It hurts, but not the spot he poked. Pins and needles erupt under Matt’s cheekbones. He isn’t sure if he’s going to sneeze or throw up.

“Nah, apologize to yourself, man.” Foggy’s shoes cross the room, and Matt hears him pulling tissues out of the box. “Here.”

“I’m ok.” Matt pinches his glasses in one hand and the bridge of his nose in the other. He doesn’t want to let go of either. Even thinking about moving brings a threatening knot to his throat.

“No, you’re not. Trade you.” Foggy snags the glasses and stuffs the tissues between Matt’s fingers. “Like Indiana Jones.” He’s a little less coordinated, but he laughs anyway.

“Stealthy.” Matt sniffles and reluctantly dabs under his nostrils. His ears are plugged up, but the sound of the Kleenex scraping against his stubble still seems loud.

“Yeah, well.” Foggy grabs the creaky wicker basket from atop the microwave. It was a lucky dumpster find at the beginning of the previous semester, and it’s been useful as a mobile medicine cabinet. For as sloppy as Foggy can be when it comes to things like cleaning the shoes that got vomited on at a kegger back in October, he’s surprisingly good at staying organized. He’d arranged all the boxes and bottles of over-the-counter remedies according to function and even offered to get braille labels printed. Matt said no. But thanks. He didn’t go into the details of the smelling and feeling he uses to tell what’s what. He did buy a clean set of shoelaces, though, and re-threaded Foggy’s Nikes one night after he was asleep.

Matt remembers the smell of beer and bile too well. The snot he’s been swallowing all day bubbles a threat , making his gut feel tight and sore somewhere around mid-chest. He swallows hard and tries to forget about it.

“That’s the kind of cold it’s easy to sneak up on.” Foggy paws through the bottles of pills and packets of lozenges. “But I think I’d hear you coming a mile away.”

“Hm.” Matt’s positive that the chills, the nausea, the gunk in his lungs all point to something a touch more severe than a cold. He’d stay in denial if he thought he could, but he’s beginning to seriously doubt he’ll make it to class tomorrow. If he can even get out of bed at all. Foggy will fuss over him regardless, but in the choice of sooner or later, Matt would prefer later. “A party, eh?” He changes the subject. “Bit soon, isn’t it?”

Foggy’s been back at school for, what, eight hours? He hasn’t finished unpacking yet. It might take him the rest of the week to see his neatly folded jeans and boxers back into his dresser, but that’s beside the point. Who goes to a party on a Monday night? Boozers and troublemakers. Not Foggy. And definitely not Matt, even when isn’t feeling like death warmed over.

“Well, maybe party is the wrong word.” Foggy sets a sloshing bottle down on the edge of Matt’s desk, then a rattling one. “Cough medicine and ibuprofen,” he says. “I thought we had dayquil, but looks like you’ll have to take the components individually. Want me to dose you?”

“I can do it.”

It’s not a lie. Matt can. It’s not exactly a smooth process, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the raised lines on the side of the little measuring cup, then holding his ear close as he pours, listening and feeling for minute changes in vibration when the liquid reaches the proper level. He’s more worried about his gag reflex, and he’d rather not have an audience, just in case the syrupy medicine doesn’t go down so well. “So…” Matt reaches for the thread of the conversation. “It’s not a party?”

“You ever played white elephant?” Foggy asks.

“No,” Matt replies, almost defiant in his honesty. “I know what it is, though,” he adds quickly. He’s not in the mood for an explanation. Something about the concept of people buying each other lame gifts on purpose rubs him the wrong way. The cheap stuffed animals and flimsy ping pong games the nuns handed out can be twisted into something goofy when he retells the stories, but they weren’t supposed to be. In the years since, Matt’s flip-flopped, wondering how anyone could think dollar store merchandise would delight children who were all smart enough to know about the Toys R Us catalogue. Then the predictable guilt hits, and he wonders how horrible of a person he is for expecting to get anything at all.

“Well, this is like the white elephant of white elephants,” Foggy prattles on. “I guess it’s something the law students do every year? It said annual on the flyer.”

“Must be, then.” It must be the mucous sticking to the walls of Matt’s throat that make him sound like such a dick. He certainly isn’t doing it on purpose. At least, not too much.

“Anyway,” Foggy says, his eye-roll obvious. “You bring your most ridiculous Christmas gift, or the one you’re most eager to get rid of, and pan it off on somebody else. For example…” He trails off as he unzips a pocket on his suitcase. “Behold. The Little Book of Yoga.” Foggy reads aloud in a voice rather like an impresario announcing what’s behind the curtain at a freak show. “Simple poses to change your life!”

Matt coughs out a laugh. “Is that from your mom?”

“Grandma, actually,” Foggy says a little guiltily. “I feel kind of bad giving it away, but it’s not like I’m gonna use it…” Matt assumes he’s shaking his head. Usually he can hear Foggy’s hair whipping around his chin, but his last thick swallow made his ears pop. The echo is yet to die down.

“Can’t beat the logic,” Matt offers. A wave of sickly heat washes over him again, reminding him that he meant to take off his coat and lie down. “I don’t have anything to trade anyway.” Matt wiggles out of his jacket, uncomfortably aware of gaping sweat stains in his armpits. He undoes the top few buttons, just enough to lessen the constricting feeling around his neck a little. He isn’t usually shy about undressing in front of Foggy, but today it seems unnecessarily embarrassing, like baring his body only ups the factors that make him different, that make him lesser.

Matt doesn’t say that he didn’t get a single present this year. He doesn’t need to. Foggy already knows, Matt can tell. He probably observed and inferred, like a proper lawyer-to-be. He probably noticed there weren’t any new knick knacks on Matt’s side of the room and added that to his choice to stay at school for intersession classes despite his perfect GPA. But goosebumps prickle up Matt’s arms, half suspicion and all fever. Can Foggy smell it on him? His poverty? His pitifulness?

“You could wrap up that Delsym. Bet somebody would enjoy it.” Foggy chuckles. When Matt doesn’t reply, he drops into a more serious tone. “For real, though. Get some rest. I’ll give you some space. You probably got all used to life without me, and here I am, mucking things up right when you’re not feeling good.” He laughs again, but this time it’s different. The words are only funny because they’re true.

“No, Fog, it’s fine.” Matt stands up and toes off his shoes, as if that somehow changes the atmosphere between them. “I’m fine.”

“Matt…” Foggy gives him a gentle push in the direction of his bed. “Go to sleep. You sure you don’t want me to measure out your meds?”

“I’m sure. You go have fun.”

“Ok.” Foggy sighs. “If you need something, call me. Otherwise, I’ll stay out of your way. See if I can get some blonde bombshell to take me home for the night.”

“So…” Matt muses, turning down his blankets. “Back by midnight?” He smiles, even though it hurts.

“Ten-thirty, probably.” Foggy picks up his keys. “See ya.”

“Yeah…” The word still hangs in the air after Foggy closes the door. The room feels empty without him. Colder, too. For as much as Matt wanted him to go, now he wishes he still had Foggy’s soft, bumbling presence to distract him from the workings of his own fevered brain.

#daredevil #avocados at columbia #avocados #matt murdock #foggy nelson #friendship #marvel #netflix marvel #sickfic #fever #hurt/comfort #flu #fanfic #fanfiction

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emeraldwaves · 6 years

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Title: Dance With Me (It Won’t Kill Ya) Lesson 3.2 Pairing: Kacchako (side Todomomo, side Kirimina) Dance/College AU Rating: M Word Count: 5,034 Read on Ao3 Summary: When Bakugou damages university property, he’s forced to take dance lessons with the best dance student at the school, Uraraka. There’s no way he’ll actually enjoy learning to dance though… right?

Absolutely not…

Thanks to @its-love-u-asshole for betaing this!

In his lifetime, Bakugou had made a lot of dumb mistakes. He would never admit to said mistakes, but they happened from time to time. In a way, he supposed burning down the sports equipment shed was one of those mistakes.

But when he felt the pressure of Uraraka's lips on his own... he wondered how much of a mistake it truly was.

Of course, kissing her again was also a mistake... maybe. Probably.

Fucking distractions.

She just... looked so damn cute all angry and pissed off. And the tension. Fuck, he could've cut it with a damn knife.

Doing the tango was much better for them yes, but boy did it not help when it came to how much he wanted her. His fingers occasionally would brush over the upper curve of her ass. He could feel her breath tickle his lips, her brown eyes so close to his...

And she was an idiot if she thought he didn't notice how she moved in a little closer every time, or how her eyes flicked to his lips.

She wanted to kiss him too.

So when she was yelling, all pissed off and cute, Bakugou grabbed her face and kissed her. It couldn't be helped.

She was addicting, her lips were addicting, and she was such a damn distraction, but Bakugou was truly starting not to care.

"But I... I like... being distracted by you..."

He couldn't believe he actually said that shit to her. How fucking lame. He was stuck doing these lessons anyway. He wouldn't be able to move on until he won her fucking forgiveness, but now he was starting to wonder if he would ever be able to move on.

And then he thought maybe they needed to just... fuck and get it out of the way, since clearly he wanted to. From the way she acted when he kissed her, he had a feeling she wanted to too.

"I want it to be because I like you and care about you!"

But why the hell did she have to go and say that!?

It threw him completely off guard. Mostly due to words that lingered on his own tongue... ones he was unable to say.

"I like you too."

If he said that... it meant caving into his desires... it meant he would let her be a distraction. He would never return to his intense level of focus on rugby at this rate.

But he felt such a pull to her... even now walking back to his dorm room, he kept fantasizing about what would've happened if he walked her home. She said she wouldn't kiss him again until after the competition since she was still mad at him. But he wondered how true that was. She kissed him tonight, multiple times.

His feet stomped against the ground, the leaves crunching under his boots. The fall air was growing colder, crisper, and he wondered if the first snow would arrive soon. Snow meant rugby practice would be held inside, something he wasn't looking forward to. Hopefully the snow would stay away until colder months.

He glanced towards her dorm, wondering if she made it back yet. Their campus was small and safe, there was no need to walk her back... but he wanted to... if only to push her against that wall again and...

No.

There were too many other things to focus on now... besides school and rugby, he now had the competition. He decided, if he was going to do this whole dance thing, might as well do it to the fullest. Bakugou Katsuki didn't half ass anything, and especially if there was going to be a freaking competition involved.

He kicked his boots against the wall, knocking the dirt off before heading inside of the dorm. He swiped his card, opening the door to see Kirishima slouched over his desk, completely asleep. Bakugou scoffed, clicking his tongue. This was why the idiot always failed everything cause he couldn't stay awake while studying.

"Oi," he said, poking the back of Kirishima's head. "Sleep in your bed, dumbass."

"HUH!?" Kirishima jolted up, his eyes blinking as he turned to see Bakugou standing over him. "B-Bakugou?! Wait... what time is it?"

"Almost 10. What the hell you doing?"

"I was studying but... I got pretty damn bored. Science is not my thing."

Bakugou wondered if any class was really Kirishima's 'thing'.

"Right. Go to bed, idiot."

"Okay, okay," Kirishima sighed, stretching up as he pushed himself out from the chair and away from his desk. "How was practice?"

"...fine," he grunted, flopping down at his desk. He had a test tomorrow, one he only partially studied for, not that he really needed to... but the last time he didn't study he accidentally flopped a math test he should've easily passed. The last thing he wanted was Aizawa telling him to take study sessions with fuckin' Deku again.

"Fine?" Kirishima smirked, leaping onto his bed. He had a surprising amount of energy for someone who had just been abruptly woken up.

"Yeah. Fine," Bakugou huffed.

"I think that's the best review you've given your dance lessons so far!" he laughed, folding his hands under his head. "Did you kiss her again?"

Bakugou cleared his throat, looking to him awkwardly. "The fuck you talking about?!"

"Well normally you come in all pissed after dancing, but you seem really chill tonight. I just assumed that meant you guys kissed or something!" Kirishima laughed.

"...Shut the fuck up..." Bakugou said.

"So you did! Are you guys finally together? I'm happy you're getting over yourself," Kirishima sighed happily.

"We're not fucking together! Even if we did kiss once or twice or whatever... doesn't mean we're dating!"

"Okay, okay. I just hope eventually you'll walk in here and tell me you two are together and I'll finally feel at peace," Kirishima said.

"Get over it. It's not gonna happen!" he snapped, flopping down onto his own bed.

Even if he was starting to feel like maybe that was what he really wanted.

"I kissed him," Uraraka whined, folding her entire body over the table.

"What!? Uraraka-san! You said you weren't going to do anything like that!" Iida replied, gesturing wildly.

"I'm glad she finally took my advice!" Mina said, tapping her fork against the edge of the plate.

"What was your advice?" Deku asked, glancing at Uraraka.

"To just do whatever she wanted!" Mina laughed, shoving some of the eggs into her mouth.

"Ah! But your resolve Uraraka-san!" Iida cried out dramatically.

"I-I know..."

Their breakfast group was smaller than normal since Momo and Todoroki went to the dance studio earlier to work on a variety of things. The two usually disappeared when the end of the semester and competitions drew close, spending all their free time working on their dancing.

Uraraka silently wished she could get Bakugou to feel the same.

Still, she knew it wasn't fair to expect him to give up rugby. Even watching him the one time she had, she could tell he adored the sport. The fire which often glistened in his eyes when he was so determined was apparent to her that day. As much as she hated the idea of how violent the sport was, she kind of wanted to watch him again, if only to see him so passionate.

Well, she had seen him look that way a few times before. Bakugou didn't enjoy half-assing things... so often times she would catch glimpses of determination in his eyes, whether it be when they were dancing or... making out.

"Are you okay, Uraraka-san?" Deku asked, gently touching her shoulder.

She let out a squeak, being pulled from her thoughts.

"Yes!" she gasped. "I uh, well... I feel a little silly is all I guess."

"This is why you need to keep your resolve strong!" Iida nodded.

"I wish I was as good as you Iida-kun," Uraraka sighed, looking down at the food on her plate. She was a mix of anxious and hungry. The more she thought about kissing Bakugou the stupider she felt. She couldn't do that anymore, as much as she wanted to.

She felt a little foolish, but even with the whole competition thing... if he would just ask her out on a real date, she probably would've accepted his apology far sooner. She was so tired of him dancing around his feelings.

"Oh my gosh, don't look so sad. So you kissed a boy you like. Big deal!" Mina scoffed, waving her hand up and down. "You should do what I told you and enjoy it. Right now you probably could get him to do whatever you wanted."

Uraraka didn't know how she felt about that. She was already getting what she wanted by having him do the competition.

"But... I wanted him to think I wasn't going to do anything like that until after he actually did what I asked of him!" she whined, dropping her head to the table.

"Don't worry, Uraraka-san, Kacchan agreed to it! He won't back out now," Deku reassured her.

"Yeah, I didn't... think he would at this point," she muttered.

Admittedly, she was mostly worried they would both get far too distracted at this point. Whenever he kissed her she seemed to lose control of her mind, wanting to give herself completely to him. But really the most important thing to her was getting him confident enough for the competition.

Or, well, confident enough with dance. Bakugou Katsuki had plenty of confidence. But she wanted him to excel at this.

"No way! Plus, despite what he may say or do, he does like you."

"I know," Uraraka admitted. "Bakugou-kun doesn't do things he doesn't want to do."

"No," Deku laughed, "he really really doesn't. Still, Uraraka-san, I want Kacchan to treat you better. He's been... very rude to you."

"I know," she sighed. "That's another reason I feel stupid! I know he's not a bad guy, but I also know he's not a good one either... at least the way he acts."

"Mmm," Mina hummed. "Kiri-kun said Bakugou only really knows one emotion and it's anger."

"That's definitely true," Deku agreed. "He has... an overwhelming amount of emotions, but it always comes out as anger. It's like he doesn't fully understand how to process anything else."

"I'm sure a lot of his frustration is coming from liking you so damn much and not knowing what to do it with it, or how to handle it!" Mina giggled. "I can just see him all tortured in his room, staring at his hands like... 'what do I do with these emotions I feel for the most adorable girl I've ever encountered!'" Mina's Bakugou impression wasn't very close to him, but Uraraka couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh stop it! I doubt I'm the most adorable girl he's ever encountered." As she spoke her cheeks grew redder and redder.

"You are very cute, Uraraka-san!" Iida nodded, saying it as if it were a fact.

"Mmm..." Deku tapped his chin. "To be honest, I've never seen Kacchan act about anyone the way he acts about you. I think that's part of why he's having such a difficult time with it. It's something he's never really experienced."

"How cute! His first love!" Mina sighed dreamily.

"L-Love!? Please Mina it's nothing like that!" Uraraka said, waving her hand quickly.

"You never know," she said, her voice humming in a teasing sing-song tone.

"Love is a very complex emotion. I could see why Bakugou would find it difficult to comprehend," Iida said, tapping at his chin.

"You guys!" Uraraka flailed. "I really just think it's a simple crush!"

"You're right. How could someone fall in love that fast?" Iida chuckled.

"Yeah, Kacchan probably couldn't process it as love anyway!" Deku laughed with him.

Uraraka tried to calm her heart down, but it wouldn't stop fluttering in her chest. Love?! That was too intense of an emotion. It was something she never even considered.

When Bakugou agreed to the competition, Uraraka decided it would not be good for him to practice everyday. She didn't want him getting burned out or injured and between dance practice and rugby, she felt it would be too much.

Bakugou disagreed of course, but he supposed in the end he was thankful for it, since it gave him time to do what he was now about to do.

He shouldn't have been in the dance building on a Tuesday but he stood outside the door, about to swallow his pride so far down he was certain it no longer existed.

He swung the door open, and dropped his bag on the floor. "Oi," he growled, looking at the obnoxious boy standing towards the front of the room. "I'm on time, just like you said. I don't know why the hell you thought I would be late."

"I dunno. Seemed like something you would do," Todoroki sighed.

"I'm always on time to shit," he grumbled, yanking the shoes out of his bag. He plopped his ass to the ground, and began to tie them up.

"You're more straight-edge than I thought," Todoroki smirked.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" he snorted, stomping angrily to the middle of the room.

"You seem like a delinquent," Todoroki stated bluntly.

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched. "... I'm... on a fucking scholarship you asshat! Just because I don't dance around all prissy and shit like you doesn't mean I'm a delinquent!"

"It's not about your extracurricular activity choice, it's about how you act."

"Shut the fuck up, Half and Half! I didn't come here to argue with you."

He was about to regret these damn extra lessons. The day prior, when fuckass Todoroki kept calling his ass out, Bakugou called him into the hallway.

"Look," he'd said, "you always have shit to say and I fucking hate it."

"Ah-"

"But you seem to know what the fuck you're doing and I want this dance to be fucking perfect. I'm not messing around. So teach me how to lead better or whatever!"

"You want me to teach you?" Todoroki had looked confused, unsure if Bakugou was serious about wanting his help.

"Yeah, I want you to fucking teach me how to be a better lead... for... for her," he had muttered.

"You really like her." Fuck it was so embarrassing, but he was determined to be the best at this fucking competition. He wasn't going to let anyone get the best of him, even if that meant sucking up his pride to take advice from fucking Half and Half.

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, but then glanced towards the door. "I swear to fuck if you tell her or anyone else-"

"It's fine, Bakugou. Meet me here tomorrow around 9. I'll send Momo home. Don't be late."

So that was why he stood in the middle of the dance floor on a night when he technically wasn't supposed to be there.

He was getting extra lessons from Todoroki.

"Are you ready?" Todoroki asked, standing expectantly in the middle of the room. "I hope you realize what me 'tutoring' you entails."

Bakugou flared his nostrils, maybe he didn't want to do this anymore. Maybe he should fuck around and just deal with learning from Uraraka. She was a far better teacher anyway. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah it means you telling me what to do."

"And also dancing with you," Todoroki added.

"So? Just fucking teach me Half and Half."

Todoroki nodded. "Right. Okay. Get into position, as if you were about to start to dance with Uraraka-san."

Bakugou frowned, but did as he was told, hold one arm out curved and the other straight out.

"Sloppy," Todoroki stated.

"Oi-!"

"Stand up straighter. Everything should look tighter," he explained, and stood next to him taking the same position. "You look like this." He stood relaxed, and Bakugou didn't wish to say anything out loud, but Todoroki did look very lazy... compared to how he normally looked when he danced with his shitty girlfriend. "When I go to start with Momo, this is how I look." He stood up straighter, his legs looking longer. His back arched slightly, and it looked as if he were clenching his ass so damn hard.

"You try."

Bakugou let out a huff of air, trying to copy Todoroki's movements, however his spine leaned far back, and for a moment it didn't look like he as standing up tall but rather standing on his toes. He squeezed his butt muscles, trying to make everything look tighter as Todoroki instructed.

"No," Todoroki sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I don't get why you're squeezing your butt so hard."

"I-I'm not squeezing my damn ass! I'm copying you! This is what you were doing!" His red eyes glared at Todoroki hard.

"No," Todoroki repeated. "I'm going to fix you."

"What?"

"Just stay still."

"Oi! What are you-"

Ignoring him, Todoroki placed his hand on Bakguou's abs and lower back, adjusting his spine. "Keep your stomach tight, not your ass, and straighten out your legs. Keep your head lifted, and your gaze locked on hers." He explained, pushing his fingers against the back of Bakguou's head to put in the right place.

"Arms need to be tighter too. You're guiding her and while you want to give her the freedom to move because you're showing her off, you want to make her feel safe enough to do so."

Bakugou's arms trembled and his stomach clenched so hard he wondered if he would throw up. "Is this really the fucking position?" he choked out.

"You're supposed to breathe."

"Doesn't feel like I fucking am..."

"Breathe, Bakugou," Todoroki sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Right. Whatever. How long have you fucking been doing this shit?!" he glares, still holding his arms in his position.

Todoroki looked down, not wanting to meet Bakugou's questioning gaze. "Since I was a child. My father is a famous ballroom dancer. I've been learning since I was a young boy."

"Wow so really you're a cheater," Bakugou snorted, still holding his arms awkwardly.

Eyes narrowing, Todoroki pointed to the door. "If you came here to insult me, you can leave."

Bakugou let his arms flop by his side, his spine slouching. Jesus it was a fucking uncomfortable position. "You're so fucking sensitive all the damn time, Half and Half."

"Shut your mouth. I've worked hard, harder than you realize, to separate myself from my father. I want nothing to do with him and his career. I am making my own path. Everything I've done is based upon my own skill and merit," he hissed.

"Touchy subject," Bakugou said.

"You asked me for my help. I am giving it. But I won't if you insult me. Unlike Uraraka, I have no reason to put up with you," he stated blankly.

"This is why people think you're a fucking snob," he scoffed, folding his arms.

"I don't care what people think of me. I came to this school to dance with Momo. If she is happy, I am happy."

Bakugou curled his lips up. "So you dance to keep your shitty girlfriend impressed?"

"Never call her 'shitty' again," Todoroki growled, stepping towards him. "I dance for both of us. She is the reason I fell in love with dance again."

"I didn't ask for your fucking sob story," Bakugou said, folding his arms. "Let's get a move on-"

"Tell me first. Why are you doing this? You already told Uraraka you didn't wish to be her partner. What good are you doing if you are just getting her hopes up only to crush them again?"

Bakugou let out another growl. "I need her to forgive me and she told me this was the only way she would even consider forgiving me."

"Forgive you?"

"I can't... I can't fucking focus!?" he yelled, slamming his foot into the ground. "At rugby practice I hear the fucking waltz music she played. I can picture her dancing in the fucking space. I can see her body... At night, I try and do my work and the music comes back, and I can feel her fucking hands ghosting over mine!" He ran his hand through his blond hair in aggravation. "She's a fucking distraction and I need her to stop making me feel damn guilty!"

He turned away, turning his back to Todoroki. He couldn't look at him and continue with what he was going to say. "Even when I'm here, trying to focus on what's gonna make her fucking feel better, she distracts me by wanting me to fucking kiss her!"

Behind him, he heard Todoroki click his tongue.

"Her accepting your apology isn't going to fix this problem," Todoroki said.

"HAH!?" Bakugou yelled, whipping his head around to glare at the other boy.

"You like her. It's not a problem or a distraction, you have a crush."

"A crush is a distraction!"

"Only if you make it one," Todoroki shrugged. "If you just admitted you have a crush and asked her out, it would make things easier. You wouldn't think about her as much because she would be your girlfriend."

"Idiot. I'd think about her more!" he scoffed. What a dumb suggestion.

"Maybe. But it would be different. Your mind would stop thinking about random 'what ifs' because you would be doing the things your mind keeps focusing on. Right now you're caught in limbo, and I'm sure it's making things far more confusing than you need them to be," Todoroki stated.

Bakugou clenched his fists. He supposed shitty Half and Half did have a point. If he and Uraraka were actually dating... he could kiss her all her wanted. His mind would probably stop thinking about it so much, because he could do it whenever he wanted it. It would be far less of a problem. The indecision and the mystery of what would happen if they kept kissing, kept touching... he would know... could have it whenever he wanted...

"It doesn't fucking matter," he spat out before he could really formulate an intelligent response.

"You're so quick to assume-"

"No," he snapped. "It really doesn't fucking matter... she told me she wasn't going to forgive me or do anything else with me until after this competition. So even if I tried to ask her out on a fucking date, she's just gonna say no." Plus, he had no idea how to ask her out, even if he fucking wanted to. He probably would make himself look like a fucking idiot.

"Ah. So that's the real reason you asked me for my help."

"HAH!?"

"If you do well in this competition, you could ask Uraraka-san out on a real date because she'll forgive you."

"...Think whatever the fuck you want, Half and Half."

However at this point, Bakugou was starting to think he was right. If they did well at the competition and she actually offered her forgiveness... he could ask her out on a real date.

A smug smile pulled across Todoroki's lips. "Alright, I get it," he sighed. "We'll continue with the private lessons."

"Were you fucking testing me?!" Bakugou snapped, thrusting his fist towards Todoroki's face.

"Basically," he smirked. "Why should I waste my time if you're just going to upset Uraraka-san again?"

"I'm... The whole point of this damn shit is to not upset her! Why the fuck would I ask you to do this shit if I was just gonna fuck shit up again!" he yelled.

"I don't know. There is a part of me that assumes even if you try you will probably 'fuck shit up again'," he teased.

"Shut the fuck up Half and Half and let's deal with this stupid posture bullshit again! I'm sick of wasting time talking to you!" Bakugou immediately got into position again, waiting for Todoroki to instruct him.

He hated having to listen to the asshole... and knowing he would have to meet a few more times before he really got things down pissed him off. But... in the end it would help make him a better dancer... for her.

When Bakugou returned to the room, Kirishima was nowhere to be found. Maybe the idiot finally tried studying in the library so he didn't fall asleep at his desk. Or maybe he was out with that pink-haired girl again. Honestly he was just thankful he hadn't brought the girl here.

He placed his bag down by the door and kicked his shoes off, stretching up. His back hurt, the muscles feeling tight after the training he did with Todoroki. The positions for dance were so fucking awkward, something his body wasn't used to at all.

He lay on his bed slowly, wincing at the aching muscles. Muscles he didn't even know existed hurt. He thought about Todoroki having done this his whole life, and he wondered if his body shaped into what it was today because of all his lessons as a child.

Maybe Bakugou's body wasn't built for it.

"I gotta fucking stretch," he growled, his body feeling tense while he lay in bed.

He rolled over, practically dropping onto the floor as he stretched his legs out. Shit he really looked like one of those loser dancers. Soon he was going to be as pretty as fucking Half and Half.

He reached his hands forward, his back tensing at the movement. It was a throbbing pain, but it felt nice. He probably should stretch more often if he was going to do all this dance shit. The last thing he needed was a fucking injury.

He moved his fingers against the carpet and pouted his lips. He couldn't stop thinking about what Half and Half said... about upsetting Uraraka again. The last thing he wanted was to make Cheeks cry. It would kill him if he did that again.

He growled, reaching up towards the ceiling, his back muscles aching. Maybe he should just fucking ask her out. Screw the fucking competition and waiting for it to be done.

But if she said no...

He leaned back against his bed, staring up the ceiling. He would feel like a fucking idiot if she said no after all this.

Why was dealing with women so damn hard?

He hated how right Todoroki was about his fucking brain making her a distraction too. Thinking about asking her out was now occupying most of the space in his brain. If he just did it, it would no longer be a thought on his mind. Fucking Half and Half and his fucking logic.

"Fucking stupid," he hissed, kicking his leg against the bedpost. The feeling shot up his foot, right up to his hip, and he let out an angry cry.

"Oh, hey! You're home already-PFFT What are you doing?!" Kirishima asked, standing in the now open door way, looking at Bakugou stretched out on the floor.

"OI! S-SHUT UP!" he yelled, pushing forward as he fell, rolling awkwardly to the side. He immediately recovered, jumping up. "I was fucking stretching!"

"Wow, you're a professional dancer now!" he laughed, shutting the door behind him as he unbuttoned his coat.

"I said, shut up, Spiky Hair!" he hissed.

"Calm down! It was a compliment," Kirishima chuckled. "You know, I'm happy to see you taking it so seriously. I thought you guys were only meeting a few times a week."

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "I... I'm getting extra lessons from Half and Half... "

"UWAH... WHAT!?" Kirishima made a loud noise and practically fell against his desk chair. "YOU ASKED HIM FOR HELP!?"

"...I SAID SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" he growled again.

"Wow! You're gonna be even better!" Kirishima laughed. "Seriously, I'm complimenting you, there's no need to get so angry!"

Bakugou rubbed his forehead. "I'm not... I'm not gonna do a bad job. I agreed to do this shit, so I gotta be the best fucking partner for her. She's good at teaching leading and shit but... he always opens his big fucking mouth with all this bullshit, so I had him fucking explain it instead!"

"You're gonna be a fuckin' champ bro!" Kirishima smiled, and Bakugou wished he wasn't so damn supportive and positive about it all. "I wanna see you dance!"

Bakugou's face immediately fell. "Absolutely fucking not."

"I'll come watch your competition."

"Don't you dare."

"Aw c'mon! Mina-chan will probably wanna go watch Uraraka-san as well!"

"No."

"It'll be so fun!" Kirishima laughed, sitting down at his desk. "You can't stop me, bro."

"I will fucking kill you!" Bakugou hissed.

"I wanna watch you either kick ass or... fall on your ass!" he teased.

"LIKE HELL THAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN!" he yelled. "I'm gonna come in first, and then when everything is over I'm gonna ask her out on a real date and no one is going to get in my way!" he blurted out.

Kirishima blinked. "A real date? B-Bakugou! Are you really going to ask her out!?"

His eyes widened, realizing what exactly he said. "No. Shut up!"

"I heard what you said dude! Finally! We've all been waiting for this!"

He groaned. Kirishima would never leave him be until he actually admitted to what he was going to do.

"Fuck off," he growled. "She's not going to say yes until we beat the fucking competition, so I have to do a good fucking job."

"What? Really? You don't think she'd say yes right now?" he asked.

"Fuck no! She still hasn't forgiven me."

"Fair enough, you were a rude ass." Kirishima laughed.

"Yeah what the fuck ever. I want to be sure she says yes," he said, his voice quieter than normal.

Kirishima looked at him softly. "Hey man, she's gonna say yes, you don't have anything to worry about. Everyone knows you two like each other!"

"Whatever," he muttered.

He really had been an ass to her, so if she said no, he honestly wouldn't have fucking blamed her.

But shit... he wanted her to say yes.

And suddenly he realized, in the end, that was all he fucking wanted.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #side todomomo #side kirimina #dance au #college au #BNHA fanfiction #dance with me

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