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harringtown · 2 years

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the stars that light the road

a/n: the writers block has been Real these last few weeks and im basically in the middle of 3 fics so I just said screw it and set them aside for the moment and started something completely new to try and trick writing brain and it definitely worked cuz I word vomited like 3 thousand words <3

requested by anonymous

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: the reader comes to take care of Steve after star court (aka the guy who takes care of everyone is actually taken care of for once, plus some love confessions ofc)

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, blood/injury mention

Steve’s house always felt empty to him as a kid, even during what he ironically refers to as the golden years. Aka, the years before his parents realized how little they cared for each other and for him, when they were home every day—and every night.

When the world almost ended the first time, Steve was grateful for his hollow halls. If his parents weren’t around, they couldn’t get hurt, and they couldn’t ask any questions. He felt that way the second time, too.

This time, though, round three, coming back to a big, dark, empty house only makes his wounds ache fiercer. Every step and breath as he heads through the halls, flipping on every single light in every single room, echoes louder than Steve thinks it should.

Maybe he should have gotten checked out by the EMT’s.

Once he’s lit the house up bright enough to be seen from the moon, he just sits down on the bottom step of his staircase. He suddenly doesn’t care about the ratty, blood-stained uniform he’s wearing. Or the fact that he reopened the cut above his eyebrow and blood is actively trickling down one side of his face and falling in tiny droplets onto the stair.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He should track down his first aid kit. He should do a lot of things. Instead of doing a single one, he just sits.

Getting up would mean dealing with everything that’s happened and doing it alone, again, like always. And he’s tired. Every time he closes his eyes he sees that Russian doctor’s face, and he swears the electrical hum of the base followed him home.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when the knock echoes on the door a few feet in front of him. He jumps to his feet, immediately pissing off his injuries, and blinks the haze out of his eyes as he unlocks the door.

He doesn’t even stop to consider who might be on his porch, mostly because it can’t be anyone but a random neighbor or a mailman who is running ridiculously late on his route.

It isn’t a mailman or a neighbor, though.

It’s you. Your hair still damp from a shower, wearing sweats and an old Hawkins High hoodie, with ugly bruises cresting across any bare skin. Standing on Steve’s front porch a few hours after he left you in the parking lot of what used to be Starcourt Mall, and is now a pile of smoke and ash.

And he has no goddamn clue why.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks, craning his head to peer around you. He isn’t sure what he expects to see—a monster running behind you—but it isn’t a calm, empty street. It isn’t a peaceful, quiet night. “Did something happen?”

You frown, brows twitching. “What? No, nothing happened.” You clear your throat. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay. Y’know. After everything today. I figured I’d check up on you.”

An unfamiliar sensation blooms in Steve’s chest. It starts out warm, but burns hotter and hotter as it crawls up the back of his throat and cinches it shut. He swallows forcefully, and he can still taste the metal twinge of blood.

“You figured you’d… check up on me?” The words have a meaning, but Steve can’t quite attach it.

“Uh, yeah,” you say. You press your lips together and rock back and forth on your heels. “You almost died, like, multiple times today.”

He remembers. His throat is still raw from begging.

“Huh. Must have slipped my mind,” he says, forcing one side of his mouth to lift, though he knows the half-smile falls flat.

“Yeah, well, you got hit pretty hard in the head. A bunch. I’m not surprised.” Your lips pull in a tiny smile as you speak, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. There’s something rigid to your expression and stance, and if Steve didn’t know better, he’d say you’re worried.

But he doesn’t know what’s left to worry about. The Mind Flayer is a pile of melted goo, and Billy is dead, and for now, the Upside Down is dealt with. All that’s left to do is pick up the pieces, but none of those pieces are here.

“So, can I come in?”

Steve says yes, because he doesn’t have a reason to say no. He never has when it comes to you. He steps back and out of the way, letting you slip past him and into the house.

And he swears, somehow, the cold house gets a little warmer with you inside it.

“You still haven’t treated that?” you ask, gesturing to the bloody mess of his face. “Steve—”

“I was getting to it,” he says. He locks the door behind you, using the second he’s turned away to compose himself. He’s still not sure why you’re here—you told him, but he doesn’t get it. Like, of all the people you could check up on, how did you end up here?

“Getting to it? Jesus—” You flutter about him like a frightened hen, hands ghosting up and down his arms, across his chest, over the dried blood and the slashed fabric. “You’ve got to get out of these clothes. Take a shower. God forbid something gets infected—”

“It’s not a big deal,” Steve says, lightly swatting your hands away.

“It’s absolutely a big deal,” you say. “In the last twelve hours, you’ve been held captive, interrogated, drugged, and also, part of a pretty bloody battle. It’s a big deal.”

“You were there, too,” Steve says lamely. As if he needs a reminder. The only thing that hurt more than being hit was watching it happen to you and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it.

“Uh-uh. Don’t even try that.” You shake your head. “You don’t think I know your game?”

“Game?” Steve asks.

“In the base. Anytime those guards so much as looked at Robin or me, you started running your mouth, pissing them off enough to draw the fire so it didn’t burn us. You’re the reason all I have to show for the day are a few bruises and scrapes.”

Steve’s lips part, but he can’t find any words to say. He’s just shocked you caught on. He shouldn’t be, but he is.

“I—” Steve starts.

You cock a brow, and Steve gives in, shrugging his shoulders.

“Better me than you or Robin,” he says. “I’ve been through worse.”

Except, he’s not so sure that’s true anymore. He’s told himself those words so many times, after each horrible, nightmare-inducing thing, but the truth is, each time is worse than the last.

That pattern doesn’t exactly bode well for him.

Your lips pull into a thin line. Steve can’t read your expression, but it makes something deep in his chest ache.

“I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want you to tell me the truth,” you say.

“That’s not ominous, or anything,” he says, trying at casualness like it’ll erase his blood and bruises.

“I’m serious,” you say.

Steve exhales sharply and says, “Shoot.”

A line forms between your brows.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

And he has no clue what to say.

The Steve who opened the door to you tonight is in no way the Steve from high school, who was confident and smooth and knew exactly what to say, but he’s still partly that guy. And if the situation was reversed—if it was him at your door, you with the injuries—he’d have this in the bag.

But no one has ever shown up at Steve Harrington’s door simply to make sure he’s okay.

Maybe that’s the reason he tells you the truth.

“No,” he says. “I’m not.”

Something inside him breaks as he says the words. Like he’s been held together by a clump of string for years, and the last one finally frays and snaps.

A sob climbs up his throat, and he tries to swallow it back down, but before he can, you’ve crossed the foyer and wrapped your arms around him. You bury your face in his chest and your fingers curl tight into the fabric of his shirt, and you’re warm and soft and even if you still smell a little bit like ash, Steve doesn’t care.

He stops fighting it. Lets all the horrible feelings, all the fear and loss and grief and regret, out of the cage he’s kept them locked in. He doesn’t even care how he must look, shaking in your arms, tears streaming silently down his cheeks and into your hair.

But you don’t seem to care, either, just holding him tight and whispering, “I’ve got you,” over and over. And he believes you. Just for a minute, in the dim front room, he believes you.

Eventually, Steve forces himself to extricate his limbs from yours, and he has to pretend the sudden loss of touch doesn’t sting. He’s already crossed all the lines he set so he wouldn’t ruin one of the few friendships he has.

“Look, it was cool of you to come over, but you really don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. Or, I will be. I always am, you know—” Steve waves at nothing, both his hands raised.

“Stop.”

Your fingers close around his wrists, stilling them in their wild gesturing. Steve freezes, too, eyes snapping to yours.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your first aid kit?” you ask.

Steve sighs. “Bathroom.”

“Lead the way.”

You don’t leave after Steve’s many wounds have been disinfected and messily bandaged. And you’re still there when he gets out of the shower you order him into; he comes back into his bedroom to find you digging blankets and spare pillows out of the back of Steve’s closet.

It’s a clear message: you’re not going anywhere. Steve is so damn grateful he doesn’t have to ask for the company, he could kiss you.

Add it to the long, long list of reasons Steve Harrington wants to kiss you.

He stands in the bathroom doorway a moment, just watching you for a half a shorter longer than is not-creepy, before clearing his throat. You turn and a smile lifts your lips. Still, there are deep bags under your eyes, and your movements as you make a bed on the floor are slow, like you’re sore.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” Steve says, leaning a hip into the doorway and folding his arms over his chest.

“What, are you volunteering?”

“Me? Not a chance,” he says. “If you remember, I was held captive, interrogated, and drugged today.”

You roll your eyes at his

“So, you’re kicking me out, then?”

“No,” Steve says, and loses all his confidence. He clears his throat. “I mean, my bed isn’t exactly small, and we’re both mature adults, so I figured we could handle—” He gestures wordlessly, hoping he doesn’t have to finish the sentence.

To his relief, you just nod a few times, suddenly refusing to meet his eye.

It’s quiet as the two of you flutter about before sliding in on opposite sides of the bed. It’s awkward, but not as awkward as Steve expects.

It’s more awkward because it feels normal. It feels like getting into bed with you is an action he was always meant for, and he doesn’t mean sex.

He means, a little house and a white picket fence and his glasses on the bedside table. A stack of your books on the other and your shoes on the floor at the end of the bed and a little dog or cat that you and Steve named something goofy.

A beautiful little life, and it starts here, with him climbing silently onto a creaky mattress with you tonight to do nothing other than sleep.

Maybe he got hit harder in the head than he realized.

You and Steve lay flat on your backs, hands at your sides, only a few inches between you despite Steve’s earlier boasting about the bed’s size. If he moved, or you did, you’d be touching.

“I really thought you were going to die down there,” you say after a few minutes of quiet. Steve wasn’t sure you were still awake. “I thought they were going to kill you. Robin and I didn’t know what they were doing to you, but every few minutes, we heard your screams, and I swear—” You stop. Pause. “It scared the hell out of me.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Before he can figure something out, you go on, “If something happened to you, if I actually lost you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

And now Steve really has no clue what to say.

“You’d be okay,” he says. “And you don’t have to worry about me. You really don’t.”

“Yeah, I do,” you say. “Because if I don’t, who will?”

Steve stiffens. “I don’t need anybody’s pity—”

“It’s not pity, you idiot,” you say, angry and Steve isn’t sure why, isn’t sure what he said to piss you off. “I mean, three years now, I’ve watched you put everybody else first. You throw yourself in front of every single bullet from every single gun. And then, at the end of the fight, nobody… thanks you for it. I mean, you’re the only person who never really had a stake in this fight, but you stayed, because it was the right thing to do. Seeing people take that for granted, over and over, it kills me.”

Steve is quiet for a moment.

“What do you mean, the only one without a stake?” he asks. He rolls onto his side to face you, and though you dart a glance his way, your gaze drifts back to the ceiling.

“I mean, this all started with Will Byers, right? So, it makes sense that Mike and Dustin and Lucas were part of the fight. And then there’s El, which is self explanatory. Nancy and Jonathan were in it for their brothers. Joyce for her kid, and Hopper for Joyce. But you, Steve Harrington, you let Dustin into your car, and you drove onto the battlefield, and you never left. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is?”

“Because I’m an idiot, or I have a death wish, or both?”

“Funny,” you say. “You’re a good man, Steve. I really wish you could see it. I wish everyone could see it.”

“Me too,” he says quietly, so quietly he’s not sure he can hear.

You inhale. “You make me so mad sometimes, you know.”

“Not really a shock,” Steve says. “It’s kind of my thing.”

“No, that’s not—I don’t mean that. I mean, yeah, sometimes, but—” You turn your head and meet his eyes. This time, you don’t look away. “But you’re one of the smartest, toughest, bravest people I’ve ever met in my life, and I love the hell out of you for it, and it pisses me off because you still just see yourself as this asshole who deserves all the crap that comes at him. And you don’t.”

Affection swells in his chest, and it’s so big he can barely breathe, but it’s the best feeling in the world. He doesn’t even decide to kiss you. One second, he’s on his own pillow. The next, he lifts a hand to your cheek and lifts his head, leans in, presses his lips to yours.

And you kiss him back. You roll toward him, into his arms, and your hands are in his hair and your breaths are hot and uneven against his lips, and hell, all the alcohol and drugs in the world have nothing on you. Steve thinks he could do this forever.

It’s only when his brain starts to turn itself back on a few minutes later that he breaks away, forehead dipped against yours, and says, softly, “I love the hell out of you, too.”

You tilt your chin up, mouth finding his again, and you’re both smiling, limbs entangled and sheets twisted around you.

“And I kind of like when you take care of me,” he whispers.

“Good,” you say. “Because you should get used to it.”

“That sounds like a promise.”

“It is,” you say, “and I intend on keeping it.”

And though Steve hasn’t seen much but broken promises, he believes you. He kisses you again, and he can taste the truth on your lips.

taglist (join here!): @milkiane @spideyboipete @robiin-buckley @robinbuckleyssgf @la-fille-en-aiguilles @sunlitide @cityofidek

#brooke writes fic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington x gn!reader #Steve Harrington au #Steve Harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things imagine #x reader

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aroacewxs · 5 months

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Idk if this has been asked before but Im curious to know how you think wxs all found out about their aroace identities? Personally I think Nene was the one to introduce the label to everyone else during like a group discussion where everyone is like 'yeah I just don't get the hype around romance' and nenes just like 'um. Guys are you all aromantic too?' followed by confused looks from everyone else, cueing Nene to explain it

cue me dancing around: I LOVE THIS QUESTION. this is a sign for anybody else to ask me about aroace wxs hehehe they make me happy. and i will answer in depth

starting off with tsukasa: i mentioned this here before but tsukasa to me is so oblivious aroace with sex repulsion. he doesn't particularly understand the sentiment attached to sex or romantic dates and is even more confused about the norms surrounding these things

i also don't think tsukasa will actually take the time to research what he's feeling. too much theatre in that brain. he wouldn't even consider that this feeling, feeling detached from romantic and sexual attraction, was not something everybody else experienced. he just assumes that this is how everybody lives, there's no way people actually go on dates, smash lips and all that. that only happens in plays and movies!!!!!! and then his world slightly falls apart/lh when he finds out all this is real

emu would just be like "okay!!!!!!!" and move on with her day i think. i like your thought about how nene would introduce the term to them first and everyone would be like "oh. OH" LMAO i think emu would accept it the quickest. look into it a bit maybe, consider a few of the experiences she's had regarding her lack of romantic and sexual attraction and go "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" as a lightbulb flickers above her. and then she kisses her friends because she likes to do that

nene and rui would think about it the most. before knowing what the term aroace meant, they definitely thought they were broken, that they were falling behind. for rui, it went hand in hand with the alienation he experienced from his peers, and for nene, she believed that she just didn't have these feelings because she was embarrassed to make friends in the first place. forget romantic lovers. but it would catch up to her as she enters high school because she believed that by now, she should have some sort of desire to pursue a romantic relationship like how everyone else around her did.

they would both go on thorough internet deep dives, watching different videos about attraction, browsing the aroace subreddit, etc. this is a little silly but i think nene stumbled across jaiden animations' aroace video and had her life permanently changed by it (me). i like to imagine nene and rui walking home together one day and then nene suddenly saying "i think i'm aroace," to which a wide-eyed rui replies with "same. what the freak" and they'd quietly share their findings as the sun sets behind them.

tldr: nene and rui think about it the most -> emu and tsukasa remain oblivious -> nene and rui come out to each other -> they bond over their shared experiences -> nene comes out to wxs first -> introduces the term -> tsukasa and emu's lives are changed -> they move on. show must go on

thanks for the ask :D

#jay does a think #project sekai #pjsekai #project sekai headcanons #wxs #wonderlands x showtime #tenma tsukasa #ootori emu #kusanagi nene #kamishiro rui #aroace wxs

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lewis-winters · 2 years

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idea i felt u would want to know. so yknow trans george right. amazing perfect great fantastic love it. this isn’t super creative or ground breaking but: sort of mulan au where george is trans and joins the army as a man by fabricating certain documents and all as a chance to get away from family although he loves them so he can live as a man (under the guise of volunteering as a nurse or something is what he tells them) but yeah thought of this brushing my teeth last night

GREAT MINDS ANON!! GREAT MINDS!!!!!! tho i can't take all the credit. @hellofanidea has definitely played a major role in all this-- i want to shout him out bc i love him but also like. he and i talked about trans!George in the canon timeline before, too!

more rambling under the cut bc it's 2am and i am slightly TOO excited about this ask and a bit too delirious.

god ok like this shit isn't what you sent an ask for but like just to give context-- jem and I have been developing two trans OCs since june 2021, both of whom were created to subvert the Mulan Trope. like, one is a trans woman (my oc, named Natalie Morse) who, prior to enlisting, knew that she was trans and was already half-way to living as a woman (this is an oversimplification of this character but whatever that's the general gist), but has had to stuff all that back in (to the detriment of her mental health and sense of identity) in order to enlist!

the other OC (who was created by @hellofanidea) is a trans man named Arthur Benjamin Foster who does EXACTLY this. GOD i want so badly for all of you to see him and read his story because! because!!! i just love Arthur so much, he's like. the best male character in my heart and his backstory continues to poke me in the feels constantly!!!!!! i curse how slow i write because GUH i have so many feels for these two and their situation and honestly? playing with gender fuckery with these characters has been so SO lovely like. i learned so much of myself and my gender with these two. and just. they're great. i love them.

BUT ANYWAY there's your context for the next thing i'm about to say: jem and I have spent many hours discussing the logistics of how a trans man might enlist for the army and how he might manage to stay relatively unsuspected and 'twas truly a situation that is the source of many shenanigans and UGH the GENDER FUCKERY of it all because on top of the logistics of going relatively un-clocked in the army as a trans person, we've also discussed so much the paradox of being "in the closet" but simultaneously also being "out" in that any trans man must now keep their body a secret, but also, outwardly, and amongst everybody, they are men. like. there's no contest. there's no deadname to call them-- none of their peers know what the deadname is. and that's such an interesting thing to me, ya know?

furthermore, the logistics of the binder. and showers. and relatively staying clean. of course, we've talked about this and come to the conclusion that some people have to know at least in order to offer help! and that always melted my heart a bit because! not only are your peers encouraging and aggressively validating your gender by calling you your name instead of your deadname, but they are also validating you by protecting you from a system that aims to strip you of your identity. and like. that always made me so happy?

like, one of my favorite things to write about Arthur and trans!george in the canon timeline is that, at some point? people know and those same people love them enough to hide them and help them. and that's my favorite part of it.

a;kgalkhflksklfhslfkldlsa ok im sorry anon i have so many thoughts about this but no braincells at the moment to make them sound pretty?

pls send me another ask when I'm more coherent to answer HAHAHAH idk idk i love trans characters i love gender fuckery i would LOVE to talk about it more with you. thank you! you're greatly appreciated!!! MWAH!!!!!!!!!!

#ask #trans george luz #trans character #ab foster

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allmightyscroll-swag · 4 months

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There are a lot of times when im like, there's no way I'm mentally ill I must just be weird or faking it for attention or something. And then I take a test just for the heck of it and.

Well, fuck. I know self diagnosis is not a fully reliable resource, but damn. Couple this with me getting peer reviewed as autistic by an actual diagnosed autistic person and yeah there's definitely something Different about me huh

#random #i always get to humbled by autistic tests man #cause i go in like 'ill probably get a low score' and then i get the equivalent of an A+ in autism

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sungbeam · 11 months

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hi duckie, i just wanted to drop by your inbox and tell you that i completely understand where you’re coming from. as a first-gen college student, my mom has always been my “why” and is one of the reasons that i chose to pursue stem over literature. i’m not entirely sure if what i have to say will be of any help to you but this is what i have to offer.

the transition from high school to college can definitely be a struggle no matter what major or career you choose to pursue. with the society that we live in today, stem careers tend be of “higher” value and earn more money compared to the humanities but that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’ll make you happy. when it comes to passion, we often think of it as something that comes naturally or something that’s just a “given” but that it isn’t entirely the case. passion requires action and investment and it is also something that can change over time.

it’s completely ok not to know what you want to do in life. people can put us in boxes through our careers by defining us as “artists” “doctors” “mechanics” “chefs” and everything else that there is but i don’t think life is meant to be defined, it’s something to experience. at the end of the day, your mom would just want you to be happy. in no way are you a problem child, you’re just someone currently undergoing problems and that’s ok, it happens to everyone.

in a class that i took before, my professor told me something that has stuck with me ever since. she said “there are three keys to happiness. find someone to love (whether it be yourself or another), have something to do, and have something to look forward to.” if you have those three things in whatever form they appear then you’ll most likely ok. it may not feel like everything will be ok right now but one day it will be.

hey, thanks bun. yeah it just seems like stem becomes the more and more stable option nowadays, which is part of the reason why i chose it. that's really cool that ur a first gen college student, ur mom must be proud, i hope.

it's hard to put things into perspective sometimes, ik that it's going to be okay—i tell that to everyone. it's just hard taking my own advice. It's hard taking it when i witness and experience my own struggles firsthand when everyone else seems to be doing just fine. and ik that that's a universal and not unique experience either, but it's isolating. it feels like all my peers and the people i specifically meet excel at something in their life and idek what i excel at. i don't have a plan to fall back on; if this doesn't turn out, if this doesn't work, i feel like im doomed to failure or doomed to burn out. and after everything i've been given on a silver platter? it feels pathetic.

thank u for the quote, i'll write it down somewhere and make it visible for myself. i really appreciate it a lot, bun. thank u

#sungbeam strikes again #moot ❧#bun 🐇

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poppy-metal · 3 years

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Demure

Wc: 4k

Pairing: eren jaeger x reader

Cw: car sex, fingering, emphasis on reader being innocent and a virgin. reader is armins little sister. corruption kink

you're 6 years old when you first meet eren jaeger. apparently he'd run off some people that were bullying you big brother, armin. you admire him and mikasa immediately.

you're 8 and he's 11 when you get a scrape on your knee from playing tag. eren runs into your mothers bathroom to fish out the first aid-kit, you know he just doesn't want you to tattle, you never would anyway, but he pulls out a pink band-aid with little ariels all over it and places it gently over the cut. he stays there for a few beats, soothing the skin around the hurt area with his thumbs. his big bright green eyes look up at you, "better?" and that's the first time your heart skips for a boy.

you're 11 and he's 14 when armin starts becoming protective. "he's had like. 5 girlfriends in middle school, who knows what he's gonna be like in high-school"

it intrigue you, for some reason.

you're 13 and he's 16 when he taps furiously on your window at night, wild eyed and wearing a t-shirt and sweats. he falls ungracefully on his ass when you let him in, though he grins at you from the floor. "thanks, squirt"

you wince at the nickname, knowing it solidifies you as someone only platonic to him. armins little sister and nothing more. "what's this all about?"

he gets up and swipes imaginary dust off his sweats, looking around your room. its absurdly girly. he picks up one of your plushies and tosses it up, then catches it, peering over at you and grinning. "i hope you never change," he sighs and flops down onto your pink sheets. "girls my age are fucking psychos"

you creep closer to him, snatching your plush back. "im sure there's something you're leaving out there. im not completely dumb, you know"

he waves his hand, "yeah but you're....i don't know? innocent or whatever. you don't care about shit like boys and drama"

i do care about boys, you think, watching the way his shirt rides up to expose a hint of tan skin. you look away, squeezing your plush to your chest. "im gonna grow up eventually, ren"

he sighs and sits up, looking at you from under his ridiculously cute floppy brown hair. "Just promise me you won't go boy crazy"

you roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he leans in and licks a broad stripe against your cheek with his tongue, grinning "we have cooties"

you swat at him and wipe your cheek, groaning and calling him gross. "i know that. you and armin never let me forget how gross boys are", you side eye him. "what did you even do? really?"

he looks to the side, only now having it in him to look the least bit sheepish, "my girlfriend may have caught me with my hand down historias skirt..."

"EREN JAEGER!!!"

yeah, boys really are gross. but not eren, no he's beautiful and magical and makes you feel all the fluttery things. but he's also a player, a bad boy, dangerous and completely off limits. maybe your crush should have ended there, but of course it didn't.

You're 15 when you go on your first date with a boy. until now you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about men outside of the enigma that is eren jaeger, but that’s a lost cause, a stupid crush you need to let go of. and despite what eren thinks, you’re not that innocent. not in your head anyway. you’re a girl and you have fantasies.

the guy is nice, armin likes him enough. big and tall and humble, reiner brought you flowers for your first date. the age difference is a little weird, he’s in erens grade, a senior, but you think its harmless. you’re turning 16 soon. the date goes well, you smile and giggle alot, and reiner seems smitten by the end of it. he even goes as far as to kiss your hand when he drops you back off at home, at 8pm sharp, just like he promised. he was kind and sweet, and you liked him, but you wonder what it means that there were no flutters in your belly, not like when you’re around him…

you’re still thinking about that when you open the door, and walk inside. the house is quiet, and you wonder where armin is, and eren. thinking they both must be in armins room, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping on your path there when you see eren on the couch. he’s lounging back, hand idly wrapped around a gaming controller as he watches you.

you glance around him. “where’s mimmin?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off you. “annie called”, he leans forward a little, propping his chin in his palm as he observes you quietly for a moment.

you squirm in place, his eyes are too hot. “oh” and you make to start moving again but his voice stops you.

“so. braun, huh?” his tone is hard to discern, the words coming out cool and detached, but his eyes are that intense green.

“yeah” you say, shifting on your feet. “he was nice. kissed my hand and everything”

“sounds like a dream” and that is definitely said sarcastically. you bristle but eren is already turning away from you, facing the TV. “didn’t think he was your type though”

because erens been your type since forever, you guess he’s right. reiner couldn’t be more different in both personality and looks, but maybe that’s a good thing. “maybe he can be” you say softly, looking at your feet. you dont see erens eyebrows jump, or his lips twist disdainfully.

“If you wanna settle for missionary the rest of your life, then sure, go ahead” he sounds a little miffed and that confuses you. makes you look up. you don’t even know reiner that well, but you feel the need to defend him from erens usual snarky jabs.

“not every guy that doesn’t live on Xbox and fuck half the school is a bland guy” you huff. you feel a little guilty for calling him out but he started it. eren hated preps, that was obvious, but its not like he was a model person either, if his long track record of promiscuity was anything to go by. reiner wasnt boring he just…..wasn’t eren. but that wasn’t a flaw. It shouldn’t be.

“you been keeping tabs on me, princess?” eren asks wryly, smirking now. you just glare at him, quirking a brow and daring him to prove you wrong, to say he’s better.

he doesn’t. he just looks at you, sets his controller down and does that tick he’d developed since he was young of jiggling his knee, tapping his finger on it. “don’t go on more dates with him”

you squint your eyes, “and why not?”

“because i said so”

“you’re not my boss”

“because..” he scratches the stubble on his jaw, gaze looking far off as he stares at his bouncing leg. “guys shouldn't touch you”

your mouth pops open. you get that, right now, you’re too young for stuff like sex, but being touched? everyone your age had boyfriends, why should you be any different?

It feels a bit like deja vu when you tell him, “m’not staying innocent forever. dating and s-sex are apart of life. you do it, why shouldn’t i?”

you didn’t really get his whole overprotective bit, armin, who was your brother, wasn’t even this bad. he’d seen happy almost, when you told him about your date with reiner, even, so you really don’t see where eren is coming from.

erens lip curls in a smirk and he points a finger at you. “that’s why” he says. “you can’t even say the word sex without stuttering. what’ll you do when you see a cock for the first time?”

your skin heats, hating that he’s right. “I’ll grow out of it” you promise him.

he huffs a laugh. “sure thing, dork” but then his face gets serious. “you don’t need to change though. sex is lame, i promise.”

“you seem to have alot of it, so there must be something good about it”

“for me, yeah” he grins. “but im selfish. most men are, and you deserve better than some highschool tumble with a guy who looks like he can’t find the clit to save his life” his eyes weigh you down. “just keep bein’ you. If i come back from college and hear that you’re the towns tramp stamp, m’ not gonna be happy”

and that’s that.

you’re 16 when eren leaves for college. you get to 18 without ever being touched.

you’re 18 and you wish you hadn’t begged armin to let you come to this stupid bomfire party. it’s just the first time he’s been home in the 2 years since he’d left for college, and you know that means eren is back too, though you have yet to see him. he’s supposed to be at the party though.

you wonder if he’ll react to having seen you after not for awhile, if he’ll look at you different now that you’re grown. you’re wearing a simple pleated white skirt and a pink top, the picture of innocence you’ve always been, never changing.

being around so many people makes you uncomfortable, you want to cling to armins side, but you don’t want to be annoying so you tell him its okay to leave you. your eyes scan the mass of people on the crowded beach as you nervously hold your solo cup to your chest.

your eyes stop their nervous skittering when they land on someone familiar.

college eren is completely different and yet wholly the same since you’d last seen him. he’s wearing a red bomber jacket, over a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, scuffed converse kicking in the sand as he shifts from one foot to the other. you peep tan skin, a hint of a tattoo peeking on his neck and….and black hair. he’d dyed his hair, and, is that jewelry on his ear? rings on his hand?

he’s smiling easily with a pretty blonde and...and reiner. talking to them like old friends as he tilts his head back and laughs, taking a swig from his cup. he’s still chuckling and shaking his head when his eyes flick distractedly over, rove over you and then stop. even from all the way where you are the green of his eyes pins you in place. the warm glow of the bonfire dances across his features, and you see the bastard has a lip ring as well. he takes his time cataloging you and you do him, before his lips tilt, he hands off his drink and he makes his way over to you.

your whole body is tense with nerves as he gets closer and closer.

when he’s standing in front of you, the smell of his cologne wafts over you. his smile is small and genuine. “hey, pip”

pip as in short for pipsqueak. you have to fight the urge to grin at him, your cheeks warming pleasantly, even though you groan out loud. “m’ not little anymore”

“I can see that” eren eyes rake over you, linger on your bare legs before dragging slowly back up. his eyes feel like a caress and when they meet yours again, you’re already tingly. you’ve never been touched sexually, and just one look from eren has you wet between the legs like nothing. “still dress like you wanna be an extra in a Bratz commercial”

the tension disputes as you swat his arm. “shut up!! Its a fashion choice, not like you’d know. dressed like a wannabe rockstar”

“aw, c’mon. you’d be my groupie right?”

you roll your eyes. “you wish, jaeger”

“mm” he hums softly. “s’cute though. always has been”

before you can even register the compliment, he’s leaning forward to peek into your cup, swiping it easily from you. “underage drinking, are we? left you for a couple years and you go rebel barbie on me”

you squawk as he chugs all of your drink back in one gulp, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. “ren! I wasn’t even drinking it. It was..” you wave your hand around. “for the aesthetic”

“uh huh” he drones, but then he jerks his chin. “i’ll get you another one to stand around and look pretty with then. C’mon”

cute, pretty. the compliments are gonna make your heart fly out of your chest if he doesn’t let up. you follow him as he leads you to a keg, one that’s a little ways away from the bustle of the party, close to the parking lot where you came in.

you shyly say ‘thank you’ when he fills you a cup and hands it to you, proceeding to lean back against a car as he goes back to observing you.

to distract yourself you mumble, “you can’t just lean on a strangers car for the sake of being cool”

the grin is back. “you think im cool?” when you glare at him he rolls his eyes and slaps the hood of the car. “she’s mine, pip. you can untwist your panties”

you blink at him, “since when did you get a new car? and when did you dye your hair?”

he looks at you curiously, drumming his fingers. “do you not, like. follow me on instagram?”

you look away, kicking your feet in the sand. hesitantly you admit, “didn’t wanna miss you, so i didn’t look”

he doesn’t say anything to that. the silence stretches between you, making you nervous. should you not have said that? you guessed it was weird, after all, but it was true. If you’d looked at how erens life was progressing without you there to see it, you’d have cried and been a total lovesick girl about it.

he finally breaks the silence. “do you have a boyfriend?”

you look back at him. “uh...no? do you?”

the smirk you wanted ghosts over his lips again, and your eyes are drawn to his lip ring when he tugs it between his teeth. “nah, you know me. unattainable”

“yeah, i know” you say under your breath, thinking of how eren jaeger had been an unattainable fantasy for you for years.

“so no current boyfriend or…?”

“no boyfriends...ever” its embarrassing to admit, but less humiliating than admitting that the reason that was is because you’re in love with your brothers best friend, the very man standing before you now.

“that’s kinda tragic, pip” eren hops up on the hood of his car and fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. he waves a hand at you, “you’re rockin’ a bod like that and no one’s bagged you? thought you’d be beating down options with a bat by now”

you watch the smoke that plumes in the air, the way it coils and wisps, and really look at eren. he’s tragically beautiful. his no black hair is boyishly messy, tangled around his head in a dark halo. his face is sharp and tan, his eyes striking and making you feel like you’re sinking into the sand beneath your feet.

you’ve wanted him for so long, it makes you ache. years and years of pushing away men and declining confessions for this man in front of you. you’d never expected anything from him, but you couldn’t move past the fantasy in your head. couldn’t imagine giving any of your firsts to anyone but eren.

“you told me to stay innocent” its out before you can stop the words, they just fumble out, spilling from your lips and into the air like the smoke.

eren stills, pauses from where he’d been about to take another drag. his expression is unreadable. he flicks the ashes from the cig on the sand, stumps it out under his foot as he hops down. the wind ruffles his dark hair as he just looks and looks and looks at you.

“yeah?” and oh, jesus, if the rough gravel in his voice doesn’t make your cunt warm immediately. “and you listened?”

you squeeze your thighs together, an action that draws erens gaze between your legs. to late to back down now, you think, and wet your lips. “y-yeah. I did”

“you didn’t let any boys touch you while i was gone?” eren continues and he draws closer, creeping towards you.

you shake your head, silent as he comes in front of you. he reaches up to delicately push a strand of hair behind you ear with one of his ring fingers. he keeps it tucked behind your ear as he towers over you, staring you down. “you’re still my innocent little girl, huh?”

you wonder if this is how it feels to be seduced, seduced by eren jaeger no less. his eyes are warm, and they make you feel warm from where the rest on your eyes, and then, your lips. they part under his gaze, on instinct. “I am, ren. always have been”

his eyes darken, and the finger behind your ear becomes his whole hand sliding to cup the back of your head, slowly fisitng your hair in it. “shit” he tilts your head up. “you can’t say things like that, baby”

baby, baby, baby. your head swims. you’re on autopilot now, speaking without thinking and you think that’s good because if you were thinking clearly you wouldn't have the courage. “i’ve always been your good girl. no one elses”

you have one second to hear his exhale before his lips are crashing against yours, and oh. oh, he’s good. you feel the metal of his lip ring against your bottom lip as he slides his tongue in your mouth, eating you up.

“god, you’re sweet” he nips your lip. “knew you would be”

you pant into his mouth, your hands curling on his chest, “y-you’ve thought about me?”

“‘course i did, im not blind” he pulls away. “I just really like my dick and didn’t want it chopped off. armin is scary”

you know he can be when he wants to be, knows if he saw eren ravishing his little sister against his car right now, body parts would be strewn about. and that’s just from armins verbal warfare.

you look at eren demurely from under your lashes, “i don’t want anything to happen to your…” you trail off at the end.

erens eyebrows climb up his forehead, he presses close to you, tugs you to him. “my…” he prods, eyes glinting with mischief.

you look away, pouting. “know i can’t say it” you mumble, hating that even now, saying vulgar words is embarrassing for you.

erens chest shakes with a laugh. “you just sucked my tongue down your throat, pip, and you can’t talk about my cock? you’re precious, c’mere.” he starts walking backwards, towards his car. “we gotta be sneaky about it but-” he dips down to kiss you again, once, twice. “i really wanna touch you”

you gulp, and nod, let him pull you to his car and open the backseat for you, climbing in after you. he shuts and locks it behind him and then he’s facing you, eren jaeger giving you his full attention. looking at you like he wants you, like he’s seeing you, like he wants to do alot of bad things to you.

you place a shaking hand on his shoulder. “im- i dont know what to do..”

you want to impress him, but pretending you’re good at something you’re not won’t do that. eren doesn’t like liars anyway.

he scoots close to you, pulling you halfway onto his lap until you’re sitting comfortably against him. you bite your lip when you feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your ass under your skirt. one of his hands settles on your bare thigh, scooting it up just barely.

“you ever watch porn, sweetheart?” erens breath puffs against your ear and you squirm on top of him.

you push down your own embarrassment, resigning yourself to be a big girl and be honest. “s-sometimes”

“yeah?” god, why does just that word turn you on so much? “tell me what kind of stuff you watch when you touch your little pussy”

his vulgar words go straight to your cunt, at the same time his hand slides up your thighs and slips under your skirt. you close your eyes when you feel the tip of his finger trace over the band of your panties. “they’re always a couple..” you gasp when his hand dips inside, palm cupping over your pussy. “a-and the guy has dark hair..”

“Imagining anyone in particular?” eren teases, but you hear his breath catch at the same time yours does when he sinks one long finger inside. the folds around your slit part seamlessly around the intrusion, sucking his finger in like your pussy wants it there. “so wet, baby. keep talking for me?”

ever the good girl, you push through the tingles and the heat spreading down your legs, the slick sound of his finger fucking in and out of you filling the silent car as you struggle to find words. “s-shes always inexperienced. Its her first time and...and hes gentle” you moan a little when erens thumb comes to swirl around your clit, hips lips finding your neck. he’s teasing another finger at your tight entrance when you swallow another groan and try to keep talking like he’d asked. “he’s gentle but he takes. t-takes what he wants”

“mm” eren hums, tongue sliding against your skin. you gasp when the tip of his ring finger edges in beside the other one, stretching your tight passage around his digits in thorough little twists of his fingers. “that’s real good, baby. you like the sound of that, huh?”

eren hooks his chin over your shoulder, bunches your skirt around your waist so he can see where your little pussy is clenching and squeezing around him, clit engorged and throbbing for attention. when you don’t answer, he continues, using the slick dripping down your slit, gathering it and then pushing back into you. “I bet” he says, low, husky. “In those videos, he eats her out real nice, yeah? makes sure her little virgin cunt is wet enough to take his cock”

“y-yeah” you pant, holding his wrist but not pulling it away, pushing him more towards you. you’re starting to grind down against the pleasure, walls rhythmically fluttering around his fingers, fucking yourself on them without even knowing it. he curls them, and your head thumps back against his shoulder as you cry out.

“i’ll give that to you” eren promises, pumping his fingers faster, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits over your blouse, giving it a squeeze. “gonna take you home after you cream around my fingers and lay you out on your bed” he kisses your cheek, holding you firm against him when you start to twitch and writhe. “lick this little flower open. wanna feel your thighs squeeze my face when i drink the cum from your pussy, get you all loose and wet and then i wanna feel you drip down my dick when i slide it inside”

“oh god, ren!” you jerk in his hold as you feel your orgasm crest over you, gushing down his palm, as you ride his hand, milking it as tingles shoot across your whole body. A milky, creamy film rests around his knuckles when he slides his fingers out of your weeping cunt, still pulsating and twitching from the come down.

he rubs the excess slick around your folds and clit, rubbing it in. you whimper and he chuckles and kisses your cheek.

you sag against him, fucked out. eren brushes some hair from your forehead and kisses it. “wannabe punk pounds sweet virgin pussy into her bed”

you look at him, confused and dazed “huh?”

eren grins at you. “s’ gonna be the name of our porno”

#poppy speaks #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #i hate this kinda but oh well #woof #eren jaeger imagine

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yoonpobs · 2 years

Text

back-burner | 12

what is free, will sometimes hurt

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister’s best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, frenemies?to lovers! au, angst, *slow burn*, eventual smut, eventual fluff

WARNINGS. another Yoongi POV!, multiple confrontations, sexist views on marriage and a woman's worth, misogyny, emotionally unavailable parents, toxic parenting, alcohol as a coping mechanism again, misunderstandings, fluffy moments too, further heartbreak, ANGST (sorry loves)

WORDS. 8k

NOTES. yeah this chapter will play with ur emotions bc I was going on a rollercoaster ride while writing it 😩 im sorry babes but...slow-burn must prevail!

back-burner masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Standing outside a place he’s practically engraved to memory should’ve been easy. The journey through the familiar moss-green trees and the uphill slope was one he’s taken more than enough times to count; years of experience took him down this same road—yet, it feels different. It definitely is.

“You didn’t have to come along.”

Yet, there’s still a semblance of familiarity with the foreign situation. A voice that’s tied to fond memories as he grew out of the lanky body that used to house a more immature version of him; the childish nature that was endearing years ago and unnecessary now. It’s a voice that’s comforting, but the situation wasn’t.

“I did,” Yoongi replies easily, hands stuffed into his pocket. The house is atop of a relatively large hill—your parents were rich, that enough was known. It’s only a given that their home reflected their ambitions in life; mountainous, daunting—almost unrealistic for the average person.

“I could’ve talked to my parents on my own,” Haerin huffs, staring ahead at the king-sized walls. “This is my battle.”

Yoongi looks over to her with a levelled gaze. Her hair is tucked in the collar of her coat, the tip of her nose slightly flushed due to the chilly weather. He’s known her since they were teenagers and much less put together than they were now; so he knows. He knows that the eyes that avoid him weren’t saying that it was her battle.

It was telling him that it wasn’t his.

“You know just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, right?” Yoongi says with a raised brow.

Haerin sighs. “I know. But you know how my parents are and …” her eyes drift to her feet before she peers up to the same doors that separate the unknown and the present, “I rather save you the hassle.”

Yoongi mutely nods his head, not agreeing, just in understanding. Then, he takes in a deep breath and releases it timely as he offers Haerin a gentle smile.

“I’d have to face them eventually,” he points out and Haerin nods. “I rather them find out from me instead of anyone else.”

“Honestly, with how obvious you were, I’m pretty sure they know but chose to pretend that they didn’t,” Haerin snorts, earning a twitch of a smile from Yoongi’s lips.

Truthfully, he was thankful for Haerin. In more ways than one. There were people that entered your life that were there to teach you something, and Haerin was that person to him. It may have seemed obvious to others that he would’ve fallen in love with her; it was natural to romanticise the idea of falling in love with your best friend. He did love her, as far as he could love Jungkook—a young boy turned into a capable man.

There were people in your life that taught you that love was constant, and there were people in your life that taught you love was eternal.

You taught him that love was eternal.

“Still,” Yoongi smiles softly, “I need to do this.”

Haerin nods her head for a few beats before a gush of wind blows against both of them. She jogs on her feet, likely to ease her nerves as Yoongi’s hand reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. A silent declaration of support; an apology; a good luck sign; anything that she needed.

“Yeah,” she breathes, “We need to do this.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath before the door opens, almost as if your parents manifested out of nowhere based on the echoes of his and Haerin’s voices. Your mother is primed to perfect, as usual, with her slicked hair without a stray in sight—Chanel coat paired with matching heels. Yoongi thinks it’s excessive that she was dressed like this for a simple meet—but she was the wife to your father, and only perfection was expected of her.

Your father, despite being the breadwinner and commander of the house, is dressed far laxer than his wife. He’s in a polo cardigan, khaki sweats tying the typical look of a wealthy man as his glasses are perched precariously on the bridge of his nose.

Your mother smiles first, amicable.

“Haerin, sweetie,” she grins, then turns to Yoongi. “And Yoongi. It’s lovely of you to join us.”

“It’s important,” Haerin blurts, uncharacteristic and it’s obvious. Her father raises a brow before she purses her lips, shooting a brief glance towards Yoongi.

“I bet it is,” your mother smiles, then she steps aside before she gestures the both of them in. “Shall we?”

Your father is an intimidating man. In court; outside of court; commanding a room of superiors; when he frowns; simply, his existence is frankly quite overwhelmingly intimidating.

Yoongi’s never been on the receiving end of his intimidation, mostly because he was in good graces with Haerin, and that automatically translated into Yoongi being in your father’s good graces too. Your father had always considered Yoongi a son, treating him more than amicably and welcoming him into your home ever since he was in high school. Yoongi was one of the lucky ones, Haerin would say.

So, this is different. Very different. Because despite his clear aura of intimidation, his face shows no indication of it.

Your mother, however, is baffled.

“You broke up?!”

Yoongi purses his lips, but Haerin is already quick to intervene.

“It was never going to work out,” she says softly, fiddling with her thumbs. “We don’t—we don’t love each other like that.”

“How is that possible?” she shrieks, “You’ve spent every second as teenagers together! He takes care of you and you take care of him! He’s a doctor, Haerin. He’s safe. The two of you—!”

“You can’t force me to love someone I don’t,” Haerin seethes, earning an astonishing gape from your mother. Yoongi’s borderline surprised, too, because Haerin was never the type to speak out to your parents. She had always been the quiet, compliant daughter that did everything your parents asked of her.

“The both of you are successful young adults with a history,” your mother exasperates, “You’re not getting any younger, Haerin. How are you going to get married?”

“Why does that matter?” Haerin cries, “I don’t love him!”

“Do you think I loved your father at first?” The woman before him is absolutely livid, yet Yoongi’s not surprised. Her voice is venomous, the type of venom he’s only ever heard towards you. He’s never liked it; never appreciated the way her voice would curl when her eyes narrow at you. Now, she’s the monster she’s always been. “Do you think he loved me at first? He didn’t. I didn’t. But we had a duty to our families and we carried it out.”

“That’s such a backward way of thinking,” Haerin scoffs. Your father is still silent; lips pursed into a thin line. It’s not a coincidence that the men remain quiet. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Don’t speak like your sister,” your mother snarls.

“My sister has a name,” Haerin growls back, “It’s ___. It’s goddamn ___ and you should say it because you gave her that name!”

“What has gotten into you?” your mother gasps, turning to Yoongi, finally acknowledging him with a rather pleading stare as if he had the power to placate the anger that boils within Haerin. “Yoongi. You must know, you must talk her out of this—right?”

“We don’t love each other,” he says, calm as ever.

“She’s getting older, Yoongi,” your mother says desperately, “You’re the only man in her life. Who’s going to marry her if it’s not you?”

Yoongi can see Haerin trembling next to him, her fists clenched and he feels for her. His heart hurts for her because the words spat by your mother are nothing short of abhorrent. It’s vile and horrendously insinuative how Haerin’s worth was tied to her eligibility as a bachelorette. He wants to yell, wants to tell your mother that she was wrong and disgusting for suggesting that.

“Someone who does love her,” Yoongi replies, “She doesn’t owe you anything. She owes herself her own happiness.”

“You can’t be serious,” your mother gawks, “Did ___ put you up to this?”

Yoongi clenches his fists under the table.

“Haerin and I are grown adults who are capable of settling our own problems internally. Haerin will always be my best friend, but I do not love her in that way and I cannot force myself to feel something that’s entirely foreign to me,” Yoongi says slowly, enunciating each word as your mother looks ultimately disgusted. Your father is still silent, eyes resting on Yoongi’s figure, unmoving.

“What does she need to do, Yoongi? Tell us so we can do something about it,” your mother begs.

Yoongi fills an acidic taste on his tongue. The fact that your mother was more cross at the fact that Haerin wasn’t enough for Yoongi than Yoongi saying that he didn’t love her unsettles Yoongi. The fact that her own daughter is sitting right in front of her, accomplished and herself—while she berates her in front of her best friend.

Yoongi takes a deep breath.

“Nothing,” he blinks, “Nothing because she shouldn’t change herself for someone to love her.”

“Say something!” Your mother turns to your father, hissing when he remains still. “God forbid your daughter actually—!”

“Shut up!” Haerin stands up, voice booming as her hands slam onto the table. Yoongi’s eyes widen when he turns around, ready to tug her down, but she’s driven by her inhibitions than rationale, and Yoongi knows he can’t stop her.

“How dare—?”

“I have listened to you my entire life,” Haerin whispers hoarsely, “From the very moment I was born I did everything you wanted me to do so you could feel proud of me. I did everything by the book; won awards in my name and doing the best I could in everything,” she exhales, then her eyes are menacing when they rest on your parents. “I have done nothing to wrong you, and this shouldn’t be the first.”

“Why can’t you see that we’re worried about you?” your mother begs, “We don’t want you to end up like your sister—!”

“____ is amazing,” Haerin hisses vehemently, “She’s accomplished, strong, beautiful and goddamn fucking capable. I’ve had enough of you berating her when she’s not here and making her feel like absolute shit when she is. If there’s anyone that I want to be like it’s her.”

“Haerin—!”

“I’ve kept my mouth shut long enough and I’m sick and tired of it,” she spits, inching closer as her body leans forward. Yoongi still can’t get a gauge of your father’s expression, and it’s scarily stoic. For a moment, he’s terrified to wonder that if he even cared. “You’re a horrible person. You mould people into the expectations you expect of them and not what they can truly offer the world. You’re sick, and you’re vile—!”

“Haerin.” Finally, your father speaks up, and the table reigns silent. Yoongi stills and Haerin pauses. “How long have you felt this way?”

Then, Haerin’s dam breaks and she sobs. Her body almost topples over at the force of her weeping; unsteady when her fingers dig into the antique wood of the dining table. Yoongi thinks to reach out, he shifts ever so slightly to do so but Haerin raises a hand to stop him—still shaky, but somehow, Yoongi feels like this is the most assured she’s been.

“Long enough,” she tells him, oddly steadily.

The answer is vague and it displeases your mother who scoffs. But Yoongi gets it. There isn’t a timeline for pain; there is no clear beginning or ending to how one feels the agony—but it’s very much there. No one calculates the intensity of their hurt but it’s present enough to loom over you like a shadow.

Haerin takes a deep breath, before opening her mouth to speak once more.

“I don’t need you,” she declares, and Yoongi’s eyes widen. “I don’t need your approval, and I don’t need you to tell me what to do. Despite how things turned out I’m still grateful for you for pushing me to do my best,” she confesses, soft as if she’s conflicted with her internal turmoil. “But I won’t have it anymore. I want to live my life the way I want to live it.”

“And your sister—” your father starts but Haerin’s quick to intervene.

“___,” she grits, “Her name is ___.”

Your father’s lip purses, and then he takes a tentative breath before nodding.

“____,” he says, rolling his tongue against the roof of his mouth as if he’s familiarising himself with how the syllables of your name feel. Yoongi almost scowls; because what father doesn’t care to say his daughter's name? Utter it to the world as he exclaims his love for her? But Yoongi keeps silent, because while irritation bubbles—it won’t serve his purpose. “Have you spoken to her?”

“Yes,” Haerin says confidently, her shoulders straighter while he avoids your mother’s stare. “She was the first person I went to after I decided.”

Your mother scoffs, but your father is blank and impeccably stone-faced as always.

“Haerin,” he says monotonously, “Your mother and I care for you. We push you to do things that are difficult because you are capable. It’s…nice that you and your sister are getting along but you must not let her influence you like this.”

Haerin’s jaw drops and so does Yoongi. The way your father speaks is nothing like a father to a daughter; more formal and business-like than ever before. It’s almost as if the way of law and the corporate world has infiltrated every fibre of his being and he was incapable of separating the two.

But what fuels Yoongi with absolute anger is the way he speaks about you.

“Stop! God fucking stop,” Haerin screams, tugging at her hair frustratedly, “For once in your life stop being a fucking businessman and start being a father!”

“Young lady,” your father says firmly, though not angry.

“I rather have you scream at me and get angry at me because that shows you actually care but you’re not! You’re stupidly calm and it fucking sucks because you’re everything but a father,” she says through her sobs, “When will you see that you have two daughters who aren’t just figments of your unfulfilled dreams? Huh? When will you see that we’re both so fucking different?”

“Your sister is…” your father continues, still calm, and Yoongi’s fingers are practically digging a dent into the chair with how much he’s restraining himself. ��Hopeless. In business terms, that means we’ve let her be because we’ve given up.”

Yoongi freezes, impossibly still.

He hears Haerin’s breath hitch, but beyond that—his ears ring.

“____ is not hopeless,” Yoongi seethes, losing every bit of calm he’s come here with. Your father raises a brow, still in perfect order while Yoongi falls apart right in front of him. “____ is all the things you could never see in her because scums like you are one-dimensional, superficial; and horrible people.”

“Min Yoongi,” your father grits, teeth scraping like chalk on a whiteboard but Yoongi’s long-forgotten to care.

“Sometimes I wonder why some people become parents when they do anything but parent their child,” he chuckles darkly, jaw clenching. “I’ve had enough of the way you speak about ___. You are not going to belittle her in my presence or insinuate that she is hopeless. While you’re here, living your pathetic, conforming lives—____ was out there doing the one thing you think she can’t. Give people hope. She’s not working her ass off for you, for me, or for anyone but those people she’s trying to help and if you can’t see that then you’re the problem.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves in exertion as he stares down the two people he’s reckoned to see as other parental figures his entire life. The same people were nothing but kind to him but were terrible to the person he loved. Yoongi’s had enough.

“Be careful on what you say, boy,” your father hums, amused. And Yoongi needs to remind himself that your father was sick. Not physically but he was vile. Because no one, no one, would find the desperation in Yoongi’s voice amusing given the context of the situation.

“I don't care what you think of me, and I don’t care what you do,” he hisses, “You want to threaten me? Fine, I’ll get my family’s lawyers if that’s what you want to do but I won’t take back my words because I mean. Every. Single. Thing. I said.”

Then, he lowers his gaze to the two adults in front of him, prouder than ever to declare the next words that leave his mouth.

“Just because you don’t love her doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Your mother gasps, as if that was the most unbelievable that was said for the night and Yoongi doesn’t believe in hitting people but God is he angry.

“Yes, I love her,” Yoongi says, calm, “I’ve been in love with her and I’m telling you this because you should hear it from me and not anyone else. But from this point onwards,” he takes a deep breath before finalising his resolute stare. “I don’t want anything to do with the both of you. Thank you for treating me well all these years but I won’t tolerate the way you treat ___ or Haerin anymore. If either of them wishes to keep that relationship with you, I respect that but I don’t stand for anything that you do or say.”

Then, Yoongi picks up his phone from the table before pushing himself off his seat, feeling lighter but equally relieved when your parents’ stunned expression follow his movements.

“And despite everything…” Haerin says, soft after Yoongi’s own words. “I still love the both of you. But I’m done.”

Haerin follows Yoongi, grabs her belongings and turns away before he can say another word. Yoongi refuses to leave shallowly so he bids a final nod of respect to your parents before turning on his feet—and walking away from the toxicity that’s plagued them all.

Coming home almost feels like a chore on most days. It’s the same, bland routine that Yoongi follows when he walks up to his door and keys in his code before dragging his lethargic body through his living room, then to his bedroom before he carries out his nightly regimen.

Undress, shower, grab a drink, sleep. Always in sequence, never out of place. It was one of the things in his life that grounded him in his busy schedules, his jumbled mind.

After the day he had, he needed a sense of normalcy, of routine. The shrill shrieks of your mother’s voice still ring clear in his ears, and the way your father disapprovingly glared at him when he told them that he and Haerin were no longer together.

Yoongi knew how much they adored Haerin, at least to an extent that they portrayed her as this do-no-wrong angel that would never disappoint them. He knew how unfairly they treated you, and there were moments where he so desperately wanted to speak out, to tell them that they were godawful people for saying and doing the things they did do you.

But silence overtook him. Every time your smile dropped, he remembers. Every time you look away, he catches you. Every time you shrink into a shell, he sees it.

It almost felt cathartic, the way the venomous words left his lips.

So, as his feet trawl against the floor of the hallway to his apartment, he’s ready to lift his fingers to do their job at punching in the code to his home—but there’s a bump in his meticulously crafted schedule, one that he’s not expecting, but somehow welcomes.

“____?”

Your body is leaning against his door, forehead pressed against it when he spots you. Fortunately, you hear him, either his footsteps or his confused voice, but you do. Your head lifts, and Yoongi immediately frowns.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” you lie, and Yoongi knows you’re lying because there’s a dopey grin on your face when you blink up at him; clearly drunk.

“You’re lying,” he says blankly, slowly making his way towards you as his arm instinctively wraps around your waist to steady you. There’s a hazy look in your eyes and he knows you’re really drunk. The worry intensifies because what were you doing here? How did you get here? Did you walk?

The thoughts consume him, and before he can open his mouth to query you, words tumble out of your mouth in a slur.

“Don’t ah-cuse me,” you sass, loose-lipped when you open a singular eye to glare at him in a way that was not intimidating at all.

“____,” he sighs, quickly punching in the password onto his keypad while he simultaneously attempts to keep you upright then you decide to rest your entire body weight on him, slackened arms wrapping uncharacteristically tight for a drunk person around his body.

“Yessss,” you drag your words out, “Why do you look like that?”

“Like?” he sighs once more, finally kicking his door open with his feet while he lugs you upwards with his arms, your chest pressed against his when you wrap around him like a koala bear.

You were drunk. Not him. So he feels every bit of your frame mould itself against him and it feels nice, the way your warmth radiates into the seemingly cold depths of his heart. You were touchier than usual and Yoongi wasn’t complaining but he was confused. Especially when you dig your head into the crook of his neck as he attempts to direct both of your bodies into his living room.

“Like you hate me,” you mumble softly, and Yoongi already has a response on the tip of his tongue before your head snaps up, eyes narrowed into a sottish glare. “So why did Haerin say you loved me?”

Yoongi knocks his knee against the wall and curses when the words leave your lips. He feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when you continue to glare expectantly at him as if you hadn’t dropped the biggest bomb of revelation onto him within a span of two seconds.

“She—what?” Yoongi’s not pissed. Well, he couldn’t be when you pout at him the way you were. It’s disparate from your usual persona; disposed to your sharp tongue and eyes; unwilling to let yourself appear softer than you’d allow. Someone who was all bite, but Yoongi knew just wanted to be heard.

You were drunk, he reminds himself. You probably didn’t know what you were saying.

“Yeah, stupid,” you scoff as if he was the unreasonable one for being rightfully confused, in his apartment no less. “You—you do this to someone you love, huh? Look like you hate them? All angry and frowny and wrinkly?”

Yoongi knows your drunk. He can see it, he can practically smell the alcohol with how close you were to him, so he chooses to ignore your jibe at him to drag your stubborn body into his living room so he could regain control of the situation.

“Answer me!” you demand petulantly, huffing when Yoongi grabs a hold of your waist to settle you onto the couch while you squirm. “Dummy.”

Some things don’t change, he thinks dryly when you continue to call him names despite your inebriated state.

“Stay here,” he says before he quickly darts into his room to shrug off his coat and dump his belongings onto his bed.

He’s never moved as fast as he was moving right now in a long time. He’s driven by the knowledge that you were an unyielding drunk, ready to snark at him one second and clinging onto him the next. It wasn’t only that, but the fact that he needed answers that only you had.

Yoongi jogs into his bathroom, scrambling for some makeup wipes he remembers having because he anticipated moments like these happening. He never expected them to actually happen, but alas, his forethought served him beneficial when you looked like you had an early night out.

Then, he feels his stomach bubble in irritation because how did you get here if you were piss drunk? Did you take a cab in this state? Clearly too intoxicated to remain vigilant? Or, did someone drop you off—and if they did, how reckless were they in leaving you in this manner when you could’ve seriously gotten hurt?

His eyes meet his reflection in the mirror as he takes a breath, shaking his head to focus on the main matter at hand. After rummaging through some drawers, he finds the brand you like, memorising it one night because you had casually let it slip. Then, he quickly grabs the standby bottle of water on his bedside table before he’s returning to his living room.

In the short span of when he left you alone to now, you’ve managed to sprawl yourself on his couch as if you were planning to take up every inch of space possible with your form.

“____,” he calls, kneeling in front of the couch until he was eye level with your head. “Hey.”

His voice is soft. He knows not to get angry just yet. Even if he was, more so that he was worried, he needed you to cooperate and he couldn’t set you off.

“Wuh?” you mumble, rapidly blinking as you attempt to focus your eyes onto his figure. “Yoongi?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he offers you a small smile, “Can you sit up for me?”

“No,” you snap indignantly.

Yoongi sighs, fully knowing that it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.

“Please? Just this once,” he reasons, “Sit up for me, yeah?”

“Nooooooo,” you whine, “You’re annoying.”

“I’m not annoying,” he murmurs, opting to reach a hand out to brush your hair when your cheek digs into the plush material of his sofa as you glare at him. “Okay. I am. But I promise I won’t be if you sit up for me?”

“Liar,” you sniff.

“____,” Yoongi sighs, feeling like he’s just aged ten years when you refuse to cooperate with his attempts of getting you into bed.

“Yoongi,” you quip back cheekily.

“Don’t Yoongi me right now,” he snaps, attempting to jostle you up by the arm.

Apparently, you’ve decided to make his life ten times more difficult with your refusal to listen to him when you make a home out of his couch. That wasn’t the first thing you’ve done and certainly not the last; because apparently, you didn’t want to listen to him at all.

“Why are you so mean,” you say quietly, timidly, nothing like the fierce woman you’ve grown to become.

“Listen to me and I won’t have to be mean, okay?” he asks softly, still crouched down at your level when your eyes flutter shut. “And don’t you think you’re being mean by not listening to me?”

His eyes trace over your features and even now, he thinks you look stunning. You’ve always been beautiful. It’s an everlasting truth that won’t change no matter how stubborn you’re being. Yoongi would even argue that even when you were unbending you were gorgeous because you were you.

Even now, when your mascara is slightly smudged underneath your eyes and your lipstick is patched, you still carry yourself with a clumsy sense of confidence (and that was only because you were drunk). Your cheeks are blotched red, a pretty shade that Yoongi yearns to brush his thumb over; but you suddenly lean your cheek against his knee.

“But you only pay attention to me when I’m mean,” you pout.

Yoongi raises a brow.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes you do,” you complain petulantly, huffing as your eyes peer up at him.

From this angle, the two of you are so close. Yoongi can trace each freckle on your face with his fingers if he reached out. His lips were inches away from your face, and he’s hyperaware of the way his breathing begins to become more controlled, less like a bodily function when you blink up at him; innocent and … dejected.

“I don’t know if you realise but you’re kind of always mean,” he says, not unkindly, a small smile on his lips when you gasp.

“M-Mean?” you clutch his calf in despair as if he’d just committed blasphemy. “I’m the nicest person everrrr.”

Yoongi knows you weren't the type that acted cutely; you were far too feisty for that and he's grown to appreciate it. But it was moments like these, where the slightest things you would do would have his heart-clenching, a fond smile slowly making its way onto his face when he observes you silently.

“I don’t doubt that sweetheart,” he hums, softly rubbing circles on your shoulder as you sigh into his touch. The term of endearment slips out against his conscience but you don’t seem to point it out. Thankfully. “You know what’d make you nicer?”

Your eyes immediately snap up, wide and curious as you await his next words. Yoongi tries his best not to let it show that his heart was melting. Thank God that couldn’t literally happen.

“If you sit up for me,” he says.

You frown, unsatisfied with his answer as you shake your head.

Yoongi sighs, disappointed but not the least bit surprised.

“That’s no fun,” you mumble.

“Then you want to stay mean?”

“Mean?” you gasp, “I’m not mean!”

“Hm, you are,” he teases, watching the way your ears turn bright red. “Mean girl.”

It’s the only way he knows how to placate you right now. It’s almost amusing when you look genuinely aghast that he’d suggest you were anything but an apparent angel. He knows not to provoke you, and he finds that he … likes this. Likes the way that you’re soft, almost carefree in the way you were talking to him when sober you would never allow yourself to be the way you were.

“Yooooongi,” you whine, and Yoongi’s never found whining attractive—but there was something about the way that your words slur together, and your soft breath, that made him think that it wasn’t too bad.

“Come,” he encourages gently, pushing himself to stand up as he wraps a tender hand around your bicep. “Drink this and I’ll help you remove your makeup then we can talk, how about that?”

Somehow, that does the trick. You quickly snatch the bottle from him and clumsily uncap it before gulping down gallons of water. Then, you’re immediately on your feet with a beam on your face as you follow him towards his bedroom, then the bathroom, a skip in your step. He almost laughs, even if he feels exhausted. He trails closely behind, grabbing the makeup wipes he’s grabbed from his room on the way to his bathroom.

When he enters, you’re already perched on his sink, legs together with your hands clasped on your lap. You look stupidly polite and Yoongi can’t fight the fond smile that appears on his face.

“Remove my makeup,” you demand, levelling him with a glare that he thinks that you think looks intimidating. It only makes Yoongi hide a laugh.

“Yes, your majesty,” he rolls his eyes, already pulling one out.

Yoongi goes to stand in front of you, your legs parting on instinct to allow him in between the space so he was able to access your face. It’d scarily domestic, the way that Yoongi carefully brushes your hair out of your face and gently swipes the makeup wipe across your skin to remove the makeup adorning your features.

His eyes stay trained on the wipe, practically forcing himself to look anywhere but your eyes that intently follow his every move.

“You have really nice skin,” you blurt.

“So do you,” Yoongi returns, throwing the first makeup wipe away before he’s reaching for another.

He nearly chuckles when he realises that you look even more like a racoon. Somehow, you still look beautiful.

“Nooooo,” you insist, suddenly leaning forward as Yoongi’s eyes widen. “Your skin is so soft. What’s your skincare routine?”

Your hands are squeezing his cheeks, forcing his face to look at you as you inspect his skin like it was your duty. It was comical, really. How loose-lipped and carefree you were. The fire in you was definitely still there, just a little lighter and with a lot more sparks that crackled.

“Drugstore cleanser and moisturiser,” he replies.

You gasp, brows scrunched as you huff, squeezing his cheeks one more time. His lips are stuck in a pout, and his words are muffled but you seem to understand them anyway.

“No fair,” you sniff, “I spend a shit ton on money on skincare just so I can look pretty.”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side when your grip loosens ever so slightly. And before he knows it, the words come tumbling out of his mouth as if he was the drunk one.

“You’re pretty regardless.”

For someone that Yoongi knows is comfortable and proud in her own skin, you flush at his blatant compliment. Even if Yoongi’s intention wasn’t to fluster you, he did exactly that and he can’t lie—but he enjoys your reaction far more than he’d expected.

“Don’t just—don’t say that,” you mumble shyly.

He smirks.

“Flustered?” he teases, quickly taking your moment of vulnerability to swipe the makeup wipe across your face once more.

“N-No!” you deny petulantly, pouting at him as he uses his other hand to hold your face still.

His palm easily covers your cheeks, thumb softly pressing an indent on your skin as he focuses on removing the makeup around your eyes. He didn’t want you getting an eye infection because of his carelessness.

Silence overtakes Yoongi and you, but it’s comfortable. There was no pressure to speak or to fill the void. Your legs swing by Yoongi’s hips as you hum a random tune, eyes filtering everywhere as Yoongi finishes removing all your makeup.

Yoongi doesn’t quite know how to navigate the conversation even if he was hyperaware of your previous curiousities.

“You’re thinking so loudly,” you frown, arms suddenly wrapped around his neck when he mechanically finishes removing your wakeup and throws the last bit of makeup wipes into the bin.

“You a mind-reader?” he snorts, and he notes that you’re pleased when he doesn’t pull your arms away.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“How did you get here?”

You purse your lips.

“Jungkook.”

“You guys went out for drinks?” he asks with a raised brow.

You nod your head, then his jaw tightens.

“And he dropped you off here? Drunk?”

“Jungkook didn’t drink,” you mumble, “He just—I asked him to drop me off here.”

“And he let you up here in this state?” He’s growing more agitated by the second, wondering how the hell Jungkook thought it was a good idea even with your insistence to leave you here, alone, wasted.

“He said he told you,” you say quietly.

Briefly, his eyes quickly make their way onto the screen of his phone after he fishes it out from his pocket.

From: Jeon Jungkook

___ is drunk

i dropped her off at your place

and before you get mad at me, I think u need to talk to her, hyung. none of this back and forth bs. She deserves the truth

Then, a message that came a little later, split from the rest.

u know why she’s drunk. all i could do was try to support her.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head before he taps you twice on your thigh, gesturing for you to get down from the sink.

“You should drink some more water,” he says instead.

You don’t budge, and Yoongi isn’t the least bit surprised. He’s dealt with more difficult moments with you.

“Yoongi.”

The fact that you call him by his name makes him freeze, especially when you level him with a far more serious stare—and your sobered face resting on his.

“Why does it sound like you’re about to interrogate me?” he attempts to joke.

“Why did Haerin tell me you loved me?”

Your question nearly causes him to choke on his saliva. He can’t run, or turn around, or deflect because your grip around his neck is tough. As if you’d expected him to flee the moment you caught him in a vulnerable spot.

“You should drink some water and change,” he avoids your question entirely, “Are you still drunk?”

You nibble on your lip, “Does that matter?”

“Yes, because I want to have this conversation with you knowing that you’ll remember what I say,” he says softly, holding your chin in-between his fingers when you frown.

“So you didn’t have this conversation with me when I was sober around you all those other times?” you snap.

“____…” he says hesitantly, hands inching to wrap around your waist but he remains rooted in positive like a stick in the mud.

“Why—why did Haerin say you love me?” you say straightforwardly, and somehow—it isn’t the admission that stuns Yoongi, but it’s the way your eyes avoid his as if you were unsure. “I just … am I not—why don’t you …”

Yoongi’s face softens when you stumble over your words, clearly nervous.

He’s never seen you like this before. He’s seen you angry, annoyed, happy and cheeky. Not unsure. Not ever when you looked like you were doubting yourself because of him.

Somehow, the fact that he knows it’s because of him—makes him feel like shit.

“Hey,” Yoongi calls softly earning your hesitant gaze, “It’s just me.”

You nod your head as if you were reminding yourself that it was in fact—just Yoongi. Not a stranger, but Yoongi. The same Yoongi that you’re holding, and taught you how to drive.

“Why did you choose Haerin?”

Yoongi blinks.

You’re serious, he realises. Your face is tight but it’s trained on his, gauging his reaction. Yoongi’s still blank-faced, even though he’s attempting to gear his brain for a response. An honest one because you deserved nothing less than that, and more than what Yoongi could offer.

“It was safer,” he says truthfully. There wasn’t a hint of a lie in his eyes, or in his words. You seem to realise this, too. “And Haerin was…she came to me with the idea and—it seemed safe.”

He knows it’s a shitty explanation and so do you. You continue to frown at him, eyebrows furrowed when you attempt to absorb his words. He’s half expecting you to come to your senses and realise how pathetic his reasoning was; push him away and leave. But you don’t. Instead, you take a deep breath.

“Why…” you trail off, fingers absent-mindedly trailing up and down on the nape of his neck. He shivers. “Why don’t you want me?”

“You know it’s more complicated than just wanting you, ____,” he says softly.

“So I wasn’t enough for you?” you accuse, jaw slackened when your grip suddenly loosens, realisation marring your features.

“____,” he soughs, “I don’t want to have this conversation when you’re drunk.”

“I’m drunk but I know what I’m saying! Stop treating me like I don’t know what the hell I’m saying!” you hiss.

“Trust me, I know you know what you’re saying but it’s late and this isn’t something I want to talk about in my bathroom,” he says, “Please.”

Before you can pull away, Yoongi’s hand wraps around your wrist to keep your hold there.

“I promise you. We’ll talk about this when you’re fully sober and not drunk,” he reasons once again, slightly more desperate when you scowl. “There are things that I want to tell you that deserve a better setting than this.”

Knowing that you were aware of his feelings didn’t … scare him. What scared him was that you thought he didn’t want you. But at the same time, he couldn’t blame you for feeling that way. Not when all he did never implied otherwise.

What scared him was how things could change.

“How about you tell me why you’re drunk?” He attempts once more, gently, tender; kind. Yoongi wanted you to know that he wasn’t here to fight. “I don’t like seeing you like this, ____.”

“Cause I’m so fucking confused, Yoongi,” you mumble, forehead dropping to his shoulder as he almost flinches at the sudden contact. “You say you don’t like me doing this and that but haven’t you—haven’t you considered that it’s because of you? Huh? Or is it just me? Because I’m so—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he says firmly as you glower. “I don’t like seeing you like this because you could get yourself into danger. What if I hadn’t come home on time? I know I haven’t been the best friend I should have been but I don’t want you doing this to yourself because of me.”

“You don’t control me,” you sneer through a mumble, “Y-You don’t, Min Yoongi. You just—you’re so confusing and it sucks and it hurts and I want answers but you’re not giving them to me because you’re mean. You’re mean and dumb and stupid,” you cry, shoulders shaking as he waveringly rests a hand on your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, but he knows it’s no use when you sigh.

“Are you,” you say dryly, head still tucked into his neck. He notes you were allowing yourself to remain close, but for some reason, it still unsettles Yoongi. As if you were preparing to pull away anytime soon. “You…why would you do this to someone you love?”

It’s when your voice breaks that his entire heart shatters. He hears it loud and clear. Almost as if you grabbed it with your own hand and crushed it into smithereens. When he feels the dampness on his shoulder, he’s pulling you away in alarm to get a glimpse of your face.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, thumb already wiping your tears away.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you sneer through a sniff, blinking away your tears as you attempt to duck your head away from him. “D-Do you think I want to? Huh? You do all these things for me and then—then you choose everyone but me and…and I-I just wanna know why I wasn’t good enough—”

“Don’t say that,” he interrupts you with a frown, cupping your face in his hands.

“Why? Because it’s true?” you seethe vehemently.

“No,” he snaps, “It’s not. That couldn’t be more false. I told you, I don’t want to have this conversation when you’re clearly not sober. You can sleep here for the night and we can talk tomorrow morning.”

Somehow, that doesn’t do anything to appease you or to stop you from crying. He hates that you are because of him. He hates that the devastation is clear on your face when your expression crumbles.

You push him away with enough force that his hands drop from your cheeks.

“Why do you always push me away? Why do you always keep me at arm's length? Why do you say and do all of these things but not choose me when I was always here! Why? Why?” you cry, slamming your hands into his chest as he takes the brute force of your hits.

Yoongi purses his lips as he hears your cries grow louder. He doesn’t know what to say; at least not something that could explain why he did what he did in a way that was enough for now.

“Please, ____, we’ll talk tomorrow,” he whispers once more, attempting to reach out to you again.

When you dodge his hand, he feels an arrow pierce through his heart.

“You don’t love me,” you whisper quietly, eyes dropping to your lap from where you’re sat on the counter of his bathroom. “How could you?”

Yoongi flinches, then he takes a long hard blink with his eyes trained on your figure. He’s almost appalled at how sure you sounded. As if this was your truth; the one that you’ve deluded yourself into believing when Yoongi’s only ever known to love you with every fibre of his being, albeit in silence.

“Don’t you dare say that,” he says so levelly that it even scares him. “You don’t know—"

“That’s right! I don’t! I don’t know anything because you never tell me anything and the one time I’m asking you a question you’re trying to deflect by telling me that we’ll talk tomorrow. But you had time, Yoongi. You had years and months and days and hours and you didn’t say anything! How—how can I know if you never tell me anything or do anything to indicate that you love me? You don’t love me! You don’t you don’t you—”

Yoongi tried his best to remain collected, receiving your shouts with a brave face—but he couldn’t. He couldn’t listen to you telling him that he didn’t love you when his heart says otherwise; the way that it grows larger in size whenever you were around; the way he finds himself thinking about you at random intervals in the way; the way that you’ve woven yourself into every aspect of his life without him even realising.

He was a patient man, but he had his limits too.

So maybe that’s why he loses it, just for a second. Maybe that’s why he does the one thing he tried his best to avoid, for now, at a time that he knows isn’t right.

Your voice is cut off when his lips slam against yours. It’s desperate. He hears a gasp and it could be either of you. He cups your cheeks in his hands before pressing closer, forcing himself to paint the truth onto each crease of your lips so you’d know. To tell you things in the words that he never said.

You taste like alcohol, but beyond that, you smell like home. Comforting. Present. You. A type of softness he’s only ever had from afar, comfortable enough to be next to you without being with you.

Then, you pull away.

You’re gaping, and Yoongi feels his heart drop.

“Fuck you, Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to hop off the counter as he stops you again.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes fluttering shut, “I—I didn’t mean to kiss—”

“You didn’t mean to? Did you not mean to choose Haerin either? Did you not mean to hurt me? Did you not mean to love me?” you snap.

“That’s not what I meant at all,” he frowns, “I said we’ll talk tomorrow. I didn’t mean to kiss you now. Not when you’re drunk. Fuck. I didn’t want this to happen like this.”

“Then make it clear! Make me understand!”

“Stop being stubborn and listen to me,” he snaps, finger reaching under your chin so you’d be forced to glare at him straight on.

“Fuck you,” you say hoarsely.

“Curse at me all you want but I won’t talk about this until I know you’re sober and the both of us aren’t exhausted,” he whispers, “This isn’t something I take lightly, ____. I want you to get that.”

“Let me go,” you hiss.

“No,” he blinks. “You can be pissed at me all you want but I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight. You’re drunk. Be pissed at me in my home for all I care but I’m not letting you go. Never.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you spit, and he sighs. His head is light, and he can still feel the slope of your lips on his own. But that wasn’t the point. There was a time and place for everything, and now he needed to ground the both of you.

“I am,” he admits, “But please. Sleep here tonight. I won’t bother you anymore.”

You blink at him multiple times before you’re shoving him aside. This time, he lets you. You’re still wobbly on your feet, and his hands naturally dart out to balance you but you shift away from him.

“Don’t bother me ever again.”

The implication stings and Yoongi can only stare at your back when you reach the door.

Now that hurt.

“You don’t hurt the person you love, Yoongi.”

When you walk away, you leave Yoongi breathless with the potency of your words.

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #min yoongi fic #min yoongi angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi series #yoongi series #slow burn #back-burner

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adonis-koo · 3 years

Text

Star Struck

| 1 |

↳ Summary: You’re a creature of habit, you plan everything from each hour to each day, so you can imagine the chaos which ensues after you discover a random guy leaking black goo in a ditch- who just so happens to be an alien.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: lowkey strangers to lovers, alien!jungkook, fluff, smut,

Word Count: 12k

Tags: before anyone asks, yes tentacles are involved because I’m a proud monster fucker, jungkook has separation anxiety from Mc :(, he’s immediately whipped, and he can’t speak any human language at first oops, he like,,,tries it for a second before MC goes 🏃‍♀️ this is unedited and for that im sorry bc yikes

___ | Next

In many cases, you could recall how you got into situations. For instance, when you were late to your mid morning lecture, you had zero excuses- not that the professor cared at all when you walked in with a bag of mcdonalds and a venti latte from starbucks. But the principle of the situation remained the same, you knew your actions would cause you to be late. You understood the consequences of your actions.

The same could not be said for when you took in the curious male who didn’t understand a word you said.

“What do you mean you just- picked him up off the side of a fucking ditch!” Jimin flailed his hands as you twisted around to face you, the male was examining his hands as if he had never seen them before, not paying either of you any mind.

You held up your hands as you replied, “I did!” You shouted back, immediately gaining the males attention as his eyes flashed between you and Jimin, “He was just…! Laying there! I don’t fucking know! What was I supposed to do? Leave him, look he’s hurt.” You pointed out the obvious wounds he sported.

“...He’s bleeding black goo Y/n! Have you never seen a horror movie before oh my god!” Jimin grabbed his head as his voice became dramatic and peril, “You’re practically number one on his kill list! He’s probably here to abduct us and- and butt probe us or some shit!”

You raised your brows defensively as you crossed your arms, “Look at him!” You pointed a finger at the male making him flinch a little, leaning a little away from you where he sat as his expression shifted, looking as if he was a kicked puppy at your tone, “Does that look like a butt probing alien to you shit face?”

“Maybe!” Jimin snapped back, “He ain’t human that’s for fucking sure! Just…!” Jimin flailed his hands, “Just look at him!”

You groaned as you rubbed your face, you knew it looked bad! You hadn’t meant to stumble across a body when you went out for your morning walk which you had been trying to do in an effort to be more mindful and healthy, but it seemed to only lead you to stressing the fuck out.

You turned to look at the male, he looked anything but alien, well- for the most part. His eyes looked up at you almost glossy like, they were big and doe like, his lips plush and his hair dusted his eyes yet almost looked like a raven blue.

He looked human, mostly. The part that threw you off was, for one the black goo that trickled down his skin- maybe if you were a photography major you’d scream how aesthetic it was and just take a picture before leaving him to die, but unfortunately this wasn’t the case and here you were.

The other part of him was, well....the bits that glowed. You would’ve honestly mistook him for a horrible Avatar cosplayer that had a little too much last night had it not been for the black goo, the strip of glow emitted from his body all the way from his hands up his arms, and you assumed back to his shoulders as well.

Most might have considered it tattoo’s and maybe you could pass it off as such if it weren’t for the constant soft hue purple, it shifted between blue occasionally but remained purple for most of the duration you had spent with him.

“What the hell are you even gonna tell Seokjin!” Jimin grabbed his head as he began to pace, “He totally won’t let this- this thing stay with us!”

You glared as you stomped over to the male who straightened a little, the marks on his skin suddenly tinging red as you turned to face Jimin, “Seokjin can shut the fuck up! And so can you! For all we know he’s just into special effects and can’t speak English you xenophobic fuck!”

“I’m Korean you whore!” Jimin dramatically shouted as he walked across the apartment, for what reason? You weren’t sure other than to make a point and raise his voice, “I know Asian when I see it and that’s not it! I’m headed for class and when I get back he better be back in his fucking UFO.”

You rolled your eyes as you kneeled down to look at the male, the marks had flared back to it’s constant state of purple once more as he blinked, “I’m sorry about him,” You apologized sheepishly, “He ah...he’s an asshole,” The male only tilted his head a little, “I’m...Y/n.” You felt a bit dumb talking to him.

You didn’t want to assume he couldn’t understand you but...well...He just seemed so, curious, innocent even. His eyes peered around at his surroundings as if he had never seen them before. Not as if he hadn’t been in your home but, as if he had never sat on a bed, his body would bounce a little as if testing the springs only to find out they’d bounce and his eyes would light up.

He had been playing with the light switch on the wall of the apartment when you first got home, he didn’t seem to understand you necessarily but he responded well to the tone of voice because when you told him to stop he seemed to understand.

He had tried to speak a few times, but...Well, Jimin may have had a point, it didn’t sound like any Asian dialect, at all. It didn’t even sound like any language you had even heard of...Even if he looked like some sort of Asian ethnicity, which you supposed was the strangest part about this. He looked human, but he didn’t sound human.

He spoke in a sort of throaty tongue that seemed frantic at first, but he must have quickly realized you couldn’t understand him and had opted to mute ever since, “What’s your name?” You asked, only to sigh in response as he blinked unsuspecting of whatever you had said.

Sitting down in front of him you sighed, “Okay nevermind, we’ll figure out a name to give you meanwhile- hmmm, let’s get those fixed up yeah?” You stood up, noticing he wasn’t doing the same, leaning down you went to grab his hand.

The marks on his arms suddenly lit in a deep maroon red as he jumped back making you screech- whatever thought of you assuming he was human went out the window at the sudden burst of...of....tentacles pushing out of his back and pulling in front of him like some sort of shield.

“Woah! Woah holy shit, oh my god!” You flailed at the sight of his narrowed eyes and his defensive stance as you held out your hands in sign of peace, “I’m not going to hurt you! I- I just want to fix your wounds okay!” You fumbled out the words, “I’m your friend, yeah?”

His eyes squinted a little further as he glanced between your hands and your hand, tentacles like you had seen- no you weren’t gonna go there- they looked almost- No. You weren’t gonna say it, you weren’t even gonna think it. They were almost glass like, but looked as soft as silk, probably deadly and something you shouldn’t touch.

They restricted a little and much to your surprise he parted his lips as he slowly spoke, “...Friend…” As if testing the word on his lips. You raised your brows in surprise, if this man was an alien then...he was a really quick learner.

You nodded rapidly as you spoke,” Yes! Yes! I’m a friend! Friend’s don’t hurt each other. Just...let me…” You slowly approached him, trying not to watch the four tentacles that emerged from his back keep your attention away from his face, the markings on his arms glowed a dimmer red, as if his initial reaction calmed down, slowly it melted back into a soft purple hue as his eyes carefully watched you grab his hand as you repeated, “Friend.” You gave it a little squeeze, his brows furrowing as he looked at his much larger hand encasing yours, to your face before back to your hand which held his.

“Friend.” He echoed back tilting his head a little before his eyes suddenly lit up in understanding, nodding frantically he replied, “Friend!” His expression of anger was like the night to the day of his smile, which was bright and almost childlike, as if he suddenly realized what the term friend meant, “Friend!” He squeezed your hand back causing you to squeak at the immense strength he had, the symbol that curved on his hand suddenly shifted to a dark grey as his eyes quickly became worried.

“Friend?” His voice gentler this time as he stood up, practically towering over you as he peered down as if you were a little puppy, concerned he had hurt you.

“I’m okay!” You nodded, feeling your voice a pitch higher and your face felt hot despite knowing full and damn well you were not going to fuck this alien, yet you had definitely watched too much hentai in your life to at least not let the thought cross your mind once. He was good looking, by human definition anyways, “Lets um...let’s just get you into the living room.”

Curiously he followed you before you had him sit on the couch, he gave a little bounce to the cushion as his brows furrowed before his lower lip jutted into a pout- obviously realizing this surface wasn’t bouncy….How could an alien be in your house, who nearly killed you with the tentacles from his back….look like this...

You briefly wondered this question as you frowned, grabbing the first aid kit before sitting back down beside him, his marks suddenly glowing purple as his eyes curiously watched you pull out a rubbing alcohol wipe, you paused as you looked at his big doe eyes that looked at you so innocently...If he reacted violently to his hand being held you knew damn well this was going to be a bitch to convince him you weren’t trying to kill him…

“Look…” Your voice drew his eyes to yours as he focused on your words, “This is gonna...hurt...a lot okay…?” You offered a semi awkward half smile, gesturing to your own bicep where it was bleeding on him before gesturing to him, “Pain…” You nodded a little, making him nod, his eyes darting to his own before back to you but you could tell by the look in his eyes he had no idea what you meant.

“Pain.” You pinched his skin making him jolt, his eyes darting between your small fingers and you as he frowned, marks mixing with purple and red, “Pain…?” He mumbled, rubbing a hand on his head, suddenly he began speaking in his tongue, his voice deeper and throater then when he repeated anything in english.

Maybe talking to himself, he wasn’t looking at you as he sighed, “Pain.” He spoke more firmly as he looked at you, seemingly a little lost, you held up the wipe as you gave a defeated smile, “Pain.” You nodded, knowing he would definitely understand what the word meant once you got this over with.

To say he reacted violently, was a very poor understatement.

His marks were lit up a bright red and his tentacles had emerged from his back once and he practically flew to the other end of the couch in defense as he howled in pain as he examined the large wound on his bicep, “Friend!” He cried out in anger, eyes glaring at you and tentacles covering his body as if he was a wounded animal.

He had ended up destroying a few knick knacks around the house, a chair and a few photo frames while you attempted to chase after him in effort to clean his wound while he ran away like a puppy avoiding a bath. Obviously he knew you weren’t dangerous enough to try and hurt but...it seemed his pain tolerance was...extremely low.

Eventually you had gotten him to behave and sit down, as he glared at the floor, marks glowing yellow as you felt him wince and jolt with every dab of the wipe, “Friend.” he mumbled with gritted teeth before he spoke in his native tongue, something you assumed was probably not so nice at you.

“The feeling is mutual pal.” You muttered, not knowing what he said but knowing, deep in your heart, your feelings were most definitely the same to one another. He did little to resist your touch afterwards, eyes furrowing as he watched you carefully bandage his wound, occasionally he’d poke- not at the wound but the bandage, his fingers would pinch the material and he’d cock his head as if examining it.

“Have…” You frowned a little as you tilted your head, gaining his attention, “Have you never been to Earth?” You were going to be extremely upset if you woke up in twelve hours and Jimin told you that you were on an extreme LSD trip and you just imagined a really hot alien in your head.

His eyes lit up in the same way they had earlier, “Earth?” He raised his brows, lips parting before he suddenly looked around again, “Earth!?” He suddenly cried out as he stood up, looking around before going to the window and peaking out of the blinds, “Earth…” He suddenly spoke in his native tongue once more as he ran a hand through his hair before turning to face you, “....Human…?” He had said something else you couldn’t understand besides the singular word.

“Yes…?” You nodded making him almost whine as he grabbed his head, as if in disappointment, you offered a weak smile. You supposed if you were an alien that had seen galaxies beyond imagination you’d be pretty disappointed at seeing Earth too.

He sighed as he frowned, looking around the apartment before straightening back up as he looked at you, pointing to himself as he spoke, “JK.”

You blinked a few times, unresponsive as you frowned, “What…?” Your face scrunched as he bounced a little, repeating the two letters once more as he pointed to himself somewhat harsher, your brows raising before your lips parted, “Oh…! You’re JK! That’s your name?” You gave a smile as you nodded.

His smile was like a child as his fists curled up as he nodded rapidly, not understanding a word you said but it looked as if you understood, “Y/n.” You slowly prounicated your name as you pointed at yourself.

JK had attempted to say your name, multiple times actually, but his brows pinched in frustration, having a hard time with it, but oddly enough it was quite endearing to watch him repeatedly try and say your name, even after you have found yourself on your phone, typing in the nearest place to eat while trying to figure out how to break it to Seokjin that an alien would be boarding with you guys for awhile.

What else were you supposed to do…? Call the police? You looked at JK with a frown, he seemed oddly innocent and you’d feel guilty doing that to him, his brows pinched as he fumbled over your name once again as he puffed a breath in frustration, the marks on his arms glowing a deep hue of light orange.

“JK.” His gaze snapped to yours as he tilted his head, you offered a dull smile as you spoke carefully, “Eat?” You pointed to your mouth before stomach, JK rubbed his head briefly mirroring you as he rubbed his stomach a little confused. You hummed as you searched around before finding a leftover candybar on the coffee table, “Eat.” You pointed at it before taking a bite.

“Eat.” JK had an easy time saying that word with a nod before he suddenly seemed excited, bouncing his spot as he nodded wildly, “Eat! Y/n…!” His nose suddenly scrunched at messing up your name again.

His attention was brought back to you at the sound of you giggling at how cute he really was for someone that nearly killed you twice within the last hour, “Yeah, it’s almost dinner time, we should get something to eat, I’m starved and Seokjin banned me from the kitchen.” You gestured to him to follow you as he cocked his head, not understanding a word you were saying.

You pulled one of Seokjin’s hoodies from his laundry basket as he handed it to JK who frowned, looking at his own clothes before back at you, as if silently asking why he needed to change. No nevermind the fact he glowed like a fucking lava lamp, “Hide.” You pointed at his arms as he frowned, looking down at them.

“Hide!” You emphasized as you pointed towards your own arm then to his before it suddenly clicked as he nodded, sighing as he spoke in his own tongue the throat sound of something like mild disappointment and you could understand, but it was necessary.

JK all of a sudden pulled the shirt over his head nearly making you scream, the sight of compact muscles and tan skin that almost had an iridescent sheen glowed, your body suddenly feeling extremely warm as JK fumbled a little confused.

He frowned as he tilted his head, why were you covering your eyes? He looked down at himself before back at you, was....was he not supposed to change right here? He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, saying something that made you pick up in relief to see he was changed.

You grabbed your chest as you groaned, “Don’t do that again.” You were in too much a dry patch and desperation to be alone with an alien that had tentacles and a face like that.

Now with his marks being covered you just needed something for his hands...You frowned a little before something occurred to you, going over to Jimin’s gym bag you grabbed the finger clothes he always used to lift barbells with.

His fault he was a pussy that didn’t want to get callouses.

You handed them to Jk as he tilted his head, first examining the fabric before he slipped them on, looking at them as he snorted as if amused before saying something that sounded an awful lot like he enjoyed wearing these.

“Eat, now.” He perked up at your words as you nodded and he excitedly followed you as you grabbed your bag and phone before exiting the apartment building. JK was beyond fascination, looking around as if he had never seen anything like this place, even going so far as to wonder off a few times, immediately making you hold his hand once more to keep him next to you.

Other people also stared at him, but mainly because he was acting weird, you shoved him a little and he seemed to understand to stop.

But he still took a few peaks before his feet halted, making you nearly yanked back as he stopped, his lips parted and his eyes were all big and doe like in awe as he stared out over the sunset, speaking once more and you frowned. You wished you could at least pick up a few words of his own language, JK was honestly impressive in picking up so much in so little time.

You smiled a little at how fond he appeared to be looking out over the sunset before you tugged his hand which was still in yours, he looked down at you before pointing towards the sun as you nodded, “Yeah it’s pretty, but let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“Pretty.” He repeated before looking back out over the sun as he repeated the word again as you tugged him along. Entering the Panda Express it was nearly empty given it was six o’clock already and the dinner rush had left but that was good, you weren’t sure you could control JK in this type of environment.

JK only observed you as you ordered for the both of you, watch the mouth watering food slide down the servers before you paid for your meal, leading you both to sit the back of the store where glass paneling was up for JK to keep looking at the sunset as you set his box in front of him.

Fried rice and orange chicken was never a bad combo for the first time eater. JK observed you as you held up your fork, plowing into your food as you sighed in contentment before a noise of amusement escaped you at the sight of JK pinching his brows as he struggled with holding his fork.

His eyes darting to you as his lips parted a whine escaping him as he messed up your name again making you laugh even harder, you waved a hand before you set down your fork, leaning over the table as you spoke, “Okay fine, fine, no need to get so pouty. Here, you just...place them like this.” You fixed his long thick fingers that fumbled a little before they properly gripped the fork.

“Okay? Like this.” You held up your own before scooping up a pile of rice with it, Jk mirrored you, puffing a breath in slight frustration at the sight of the rice falling from his fork a little, “If you’re mad about this I guess it’s a good thing i didn’t get us chopsticks.” You snorted as JK focused on his food.

You watched in curiosity as he took his first bite, his brows furrowing for a moment and his held tilting as if he was heavily focused on how it felt in his mouth before his brows shot up and almost immediately began scooping more food into his mouth like he was a fucking starved man held captive. You were surprised at how fast he was devouring his food but you only smiled softly as you began eating as well, enjoying the rest of your meal in silence.

JK had even ate the rest of your food once you were finished, you just sat there in your seat, your knee hiked up towards your chest while you ran a hand through your hair absentmindedly while watching him devour the rest of the food.

“Good?” You called out, JK’s eyes finally leaving your box of food, rice sticking to his upper lip making you smile a little as he rapidly nodded, looking like he was drunk off fried rice and orange chicken, probably not even paying attention to what you said.

By the time JK was finished he slumped in his seat, stretching out as a yawn escaped his lips, his eyes closing briefly before he sighed, looking out over the glass paneling as if something troubled him before his eyes darted back to your figure and back to the window.

You wished you could speak fluently in whatever language he spoke so you could ask what he was thinking about, once all of the innocence had melted off his expression in those child-like moments of glee, he was left like this, as if he was tired and maybe even lonely.

How did he even get here? And did he need to get back? To where he was originally going? You thought back to his disappointment when he realized he was on Earth, and if you could stretch for a reach, you’d say he obviously had another location in mind before...whatever happened.

“Hey,” you called out, drawing his attention as he raised his brows, “Home.”

He tilted his head as he echoed the word, “Home?” You stood up as you nodded with a small smile, knowing damn well you wouldn’t be able to avoid Seokjin forever.

JK stood up mirroring you before you guided him to where you threw your boxes away and he had even helped clean up the table before you both exited the shop, it was now dark out and the walk home was quiet as ever. But you enjoyed it, his company at least, you didn’t really have a lot of friends outside Jimin and Seokjin, who were your best friends since middle school and you all now split rent on an apartment close to campus.

You opened the door, peeping in as JK stood there mildly confused, Jimin and Seokjin sat on the couch watching a movie much to your disappointment, opening the door fully you pressed a finger to your lips at JK as he tilted his head before you quietly shut the door. Grabbing his hand as you gently tugged it along.

“Where in the absolute fuck do you think you’re taking him you horny fool?”

God dammit.

You grabbed your head with a groan as JK frowned, almost immediately concerned as he looked around, Seokjin stood up with his arms crossed, “He told me all about the goo monster here.”

“He’s not a monster!” You screeched making Seokjin snort as he raised a brow, “...He’s an alien.”

“Wearing MY sweatshirt!? That’s balenciaga!” Seokjin cried out, pointing an accusing finger at JK who looked a little concerned, looking at Seokjin then at you who he shuffled a little behind like a puppy with a tail between his legs.

You felt an immediate wave of protection come over you at the sight of the action as you stood in front of him, despite him towering over you, “Would you stop! I’ll get him clothes tomorrow! Just leave him alone, okay, he’s hurt, he doesn't know anything about Earth and he just…!”

“He’s not a dog Y/n!” You pressed your lips together as you looked away from Seokjin who glared at you pointedly, “We don’t know what this thing is or his intentions.”

It was difficult to imagine JK’s intentions being anything but good when he was delighted at finding out your bed was bouncy, or the take of friend rice and orange chicken, or his excitement at the sunset, “He isn’t here to kill us! I can promise you that...just!” You squeezed your fists as you sighed, “Just trust me, okay? He’ll stay in my room and i’ll get everything he needs.”

“Until what!?” Seokjin shouted at the lunacy of your words and you understood, it wasn’t everyday someone stumbled across an unconscious alien in a ditch, “Until what Y/n!?”

“Until he’s able to speak enough English for us to know what the fuck he’s doing here, hell if I know Seok!?” You raised your arms, you...you hadn’t thought about his words yet, admittedly, “He just needs somewhere to stay until he understands more about Earth and how it works here okay? Listen…” You shuffled in your spot as you sighed, “The moment he poses a threat….i’ll deal with it okay? We can call the police or whatever and report it, but he’s been docile the whole time…” Okay that was a stretched truth but what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them.

“Jesus christ,” Seokjin groaned as he collapsed back on the couch as he sighed, “...Fine, just make him use Jimin’s sweatpants.”

“Hey! I didn’t consent to this!” Jimin whined who had been admittedly just sitting back and enjoying the fight between you both as he almost always did, serves the hoe right.

You said no more not wanting to push things further as you grabbed JK’s hand once more guiding him down the hallway as you pushed the door to your room open, his eyes lit up a little at the familiar sight, hurriedly he went to the bed as he bounced on his as he laid down, burying into your blankets and pillows with a content sigh as if he had been aching to lay down all day.

You felt a little bad at the sight knowing you should’ve probably let him rest sooner, choosing to sit down on the floor you opened up your laptop before you began working on the paper that was due by tomorrow afternoon that you had chosen to ignore since you had came across JK this morning.

By the time it was late night JK had been in a deep sleep, obviously deducing that humans weren’t that dangerous of a species to keep himself awake over. You yawned yourself as you shut your laptop, rubbing your eyes before you looked at your bed, frowning as you sighed. Grabbing the pillow that had fallen off the side of the bed as you laid on the ground. You had slept in worst places before.

You sighed in contentment as you rolled over on the nice soft surface, warmth filling you and sleep had been particularly forgiving to you last night. Man what had been so forgiving today to let you sleep this good?

The memories of yesterday had filtered to your mind too quickly making your eyes snap open, you had fell asleep on the floor how did you get in bed!? You searched frantically for the puppy like alien who was absent from where he had been collapsed here last night.

Fuck this better have not been that bad LSD trip! It would have you fucked for months that Jimin would really let you believe there was a hot alien guy you made up in your head. You quickly padded down the hallway almost frantically before your eyes were met with three heads of hair on the couch.

“Die! Die!” Your mouth moved multiple times but you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence at the sound of JK’s nose wrinkling and buttons being mashed as the three boys were sitting with controllers in hand.

“Which one of you fuckheads taught him that word!?” You growled finally, knowing JK was your age and probably even hundreds of years old depending on how his species aged and he understood the concept of killing but shit! You didn’t like hearing him say it like that when he seemed so naive and innocent about everything else on Earth.

Seokjin and Jimin both whipped around sheepishly at the same time before they started immediately blaming one another as you gritted your teeth. You would’ve continued to glare at them both if it not been for JK’s cheeriful voice, he had immediately perked at the sound of before hurrying over, “Y/n!” His pronunciation had gotten better and it was difficult to not smile at the triumph in his voice as if knowing he had improved before stating your name again, “Game…!” He pointed at the TV before his controller.

You nodded, “I can see that…so I guess he’s suddenly not a threat anymore?” You sneered at both of your bestfriends, JK frowned a little as he looked between you three, obviously confused as to what was going on.

Seokjin looked mild, pretending as if he hadn’t heard what you said, prideful bitch, “He’s okay. Better at Jimin in Overwatch if you can believe it, maybe I’ll just let him be my duo instead.”

“Hey fuck off!” Jimin glared at him, brushing his shoulder in somewhat offense before he spoke, “He is good though, wouldn’t stop saying your name this morning though.”

“He couldn’t say it yesterday,” You explained before turning to JK again, offering him a weak smile, “Play.” You pointed at the TV in encouragement, who were you to tell the man what to do? You just rolled out of bed and needed something to eat before you interacted anymore with those two idiots.

JK looked excited as he ran back over to the couch before he spoke, “Play! Y/n play!” Your lips parted at the way he strung the two words together so easily, he was catching onto the language...fast...like extremely fast. His species was obviously intellect enough that this was a skill of theirs, or so you assumed for him at least.

“No play. Eat.” You pointed at yourself before the tiny kitchen as you walked away hearing a noise that sounded like a whine from him.

“Hey you're making breakfast for all of us right?” Jimin called out, making you glare him down and if lazerbeams could shoot from your eyes he’d be a pile of ash, he held out his arms as he spoke, “Damn fine, so much for sharing is caring in this household huh.”

You rubbed your eyes ignoring him as you yawned, immediately making a cup of coffee before turning to the fridge only to jump at the tall boy standing in front of you peering down wide eyed and curious, “Eat.” He said singularly before he offered the world's cutest smile that you couldn’t begrudge as easily as you could Jimin.

Fuck! He was asking you to cook for him and he had a cute almost bunny-like smile and he looked so endured and hoping you would make him something as good as Panda Express, which there was no way you could but jesus you were willing to try.

“Breakfast,” You pronounced slowly, knowing this was a bit of a harder word for him as he tilted his head and repeated ‘Eat’ once more before you shook your head, “Eat, breakfast.” You tapped the clock on the stove that ticked away, showing it was ten in the morning.

JK only rubbed his head in confusion before shrugging, he sat patiently in the stool at the counter as he happily watched you cook away. You didn’t make anything too fancy, just breakfast sandwiches for you both before you set his plate down in front of him, a happy smile on his face as his nose crinkled.

Not even hesitating before he dug into the meal which you had purposely made him two given how big of an appetite the man had, something akin to pride swelled in your chest though at the sight of JK nearly devouring the sandwiches happily, Jimin stepped into the kitchen looking offended as he sputtered, “Oh so you’ll make breakfast for the hoe that can hardly speak but you won’t for your best friend, I see how it is. Is it because you know I won’t fuck you and he probably will?”

“Shut up!” You hissed immediately, unable to even enjoy your own food because of your head ass best friend who only smiled viciously at how flustered you were. JK was naively munching on his food not understanding a single word either of you were saying and not caring either when his face was stuffed with food.

Seokjin entered the kitchen making himself something to eat as well, “Hey, are you guys going to that party tonight at Beta Tau?” He tilted his head as your nose immediately wrinkled, you used to do frat parties back when you were a freshman but since then you just couldn’t keep the high pace anymore or the sleazy guys.

“I’m going!” Jimin called out, before tapping his chin as he looked towards JK before you, “Hey, we should bring JK along, give him some good socialization!”

“Uh no, that’s a horrible idea,” You shook your head immediately, “And I never said I was going either, and if I don’t go he’s definitely not going.” JK tilted his head in curiosity, knowing his name had been brought up before he between you both.

“Boo you whore,” Jimin tossed a piece of bagel at you as you dodged it, his nose wrinkling as he pointed his butterknife at you, “You’ve just been nursing your wounds ever since Mark dumped you. You know it’ll be good for you and him.”

“I am not nursing wounds!” You hissed out, feeling like a black rain cloud was piling over your head as you crossed your arms, “And it is a bad idea, JK hardly knows anything about Earth, taking him to a frat party is like tossing a baby into the ocean.”

“Umm all I hear is bullshit babe,” Jimin scoffed as he rolled his eyes, “Besides, a little party never hurt anyone, it’s our job to show off what Humans are capable of after all.”

“At a frat party…?” You frowned as you sighed.

“He’s not a baby Y/n,” Seokjin frowned as he looked between you both, “Just because he can’t speak english and he’s unfamiliar with how we live doesn’t mean he isn’t intelligent, i’m sure they have parties where he’s from. If this is about Mark that’s kinda selfish to hold him back.”

You weren’t…! You weren’t babying him! And this wasn’t about Mark! You just…! You weren’t in the mood to see him, especially attached to Lisa, who you had already thought was hot as it was but instead of going for you she went for your boyfriend and now they were together,

It had been a pretty big blow to your ego.

“Fuck fine! We can go what the fuck ever. I have to go get him clothes today though if you don’t want him bumming off you guys though.” Jungkook was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and he didn’t look the least bit concerned though he watched you guys curiously.

Jimin pumps his fists in victory as he shoved the bagel in his mouth, “You guys do that then, it’ll be a good bonding session, anyways I have a lecture I’m already late for peace.” He threw up a peace sign before quickly exiting as you huffed, you thought it was weird he was here at 10am on a friday morning.

“Bond?” JK perked up looking at you in excitement as your brows furrowed a little, how could he pick up random words so fast? Jesus, he’d be enrolling in college just to see what it was about within the weeks if he didn’t chill out.

“Something like that,” You muttered, “Finish your food though,” You gestured to his sandwich before you picked up your own taking a bite, “I need a shower first but afterwards we can go out and get you some new clothes.”

JK frowned as he looked down at his clothes once more, obviously slowly beginning to understand you more and more as his lips jutted a little, clearly he liked his clothing he was wearing.

Maybe they just didn’t change clothes where he was from? It was difficult to say, regardless you shook your head finishing up before you went to your room. JK followed you around like a lost puppy as he had finished eating before you.

You had paused at the door to the bathroom as you frowned, JK looking as if he’d totally come in if you’d let him, “Go play.” You pointed towards the living room where Seokjin had resumed Overwatch.

JK frowned as he looked between the living room and you, “Bond.” He pointed at you making your pupils widen a little, what was that supposed to mean? He shuffled a little more, nearly chest to chest with you as you craned your head to look at him, jesus he had to be 6’3 in the average pool of 5’9 men, “Bond.” He said more firmly.

“No.” You shook your head, your smile became awkward and your body movement became flustered, what was he talking about, “You are gonna go play with Seokjin.” You pressed a hand on his chest, pushing him back a little, his lips quivering a little and hurt in his eyes as he looked down at your face as if in search, “And I’m gonna go shower.”

You couldn’t stand to look at it any longer before you quickly shut the door, locking it as you groaned, pressing your back against the door. Why did he have to look at you like that…?

“JK! Stop wandering off,” You lowered your voice a little as you tugged him along, your hand in his again as he had been exploring the store, “We’re here for clothes,” You held up the hanger you had in your hands as he frowned. He had been moping ever since you wouldn’t let him shower with you this morning.

Or whatever his intention was. Regardless it didn’t change the fact that he needed clothes and despite being poor you were willing to throw out some money for him, but only because he was so cute.

“Come on, let’s go to the dressing rooms, my arms are getting tired.” You tugged JK along who only pouted, obviously wanting to explore more than get things, but this was kind of a necessity. You gently pushed him into the dressing room, handing him the clothes as he frowned, his eyes looking down at the clothes then at you.

Sighing you groaned, stepping into the small room with him before shutting the door, it wasn’t too cramped but you were uncomfortably close with him, “Okay….umm you obviously don’t understand the concept of trying on clothes so…” You flailed a little before tugging on his sweatshirt, he frowned before his eyes brightened a little.

Understanding the message he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, your face immediately heating as you tried to not ogle his sculpted body which was muscular but slim, his shoulders broad but it suited his delicate small waist.

You now had a good view of the marks that ran up his arms, they curved into a crescent at his hands and ran all the way along his arms, up his shoulders before curving to his back. You had changed his bandages this morning after you got out of the shower and admittedly they had healed a lot faster then you had assumed they would.

Whatever thoughts about his wounds however left your head as you nearly squeaked at the sight of tentacles immediately protruding from his back. Four to be exact, they were of a clear substance for the most part until your eyes followed further to their base where you noticed it matched the glow of his marks.

A subtle pink and JK’s eyes a little bashful as he mumbled, “Bond…” His tentacles stretched forward a little as if in search for you before you squirmed towards the wall, trying your best to not let your horniness get the best of you in this situation.

“U-ummm if you’re asking me to marry you the answer is gonna be no.” You held out the shirt in front of you to act as a semi shield to his advancement. Despite the language and cultural barrier JK seemed to understand your rejection as his lips quivered, his eyes dimming as he lowered them in acceptance.

The tentacles immediately retracting back into his back as delicately took the hanger from you, fumbling to get it off and wow, way to make you feel like a dick. He wouldn’t even look at you as you sighed, relaxing a little as you grabbed the hanger pulling it off for him, “I’m gonna just let you do your business in here if you understand.”

You exited as you grabbed your face, why did you feel so bad for rejecting him? You groaned as you leaned against the wall opposite of his room. Probably because you didn’t fully understand what he was trying to do if you could just speak the same language, and understand why he was here, maybe you wouldn’t have felt so bad.

Seokjin kept saying he wasn’t a baby but...he was just so clueless as to how Earth worked, you couldn’t help it....You sighed as you rubbed your face, you just wished things could be easier. You had an afternoon lecture you needed to go to and you weren’t sure how JK would fair on his own and it admittedly gave you anxiety just thinking about it.

He was curious by nature and you wouldn’t have a doubt he’d get bored easily just stuffed in your little apartment. JK opened the door to the dressing room, his gaze still cast on the ground as he handed the stuff back to you and you could only assume they all fit. You made sure they did because they were all at least two sizes too big for him but hey, they had to be comfy at least.

Neither of you spoke as you paid for his things, holding the bags as you began walking back home, you didn’t like how quiet it was between you both and JK didn’t wander off not once as he let out what sounded like a sad sigh, his eyes looking up towards the sky as he mumbled something in his own language before back towards the ground.

You felt like you kicked a puppy.

You set his things down on the table as you looked towards the clock, you needed to get ready for class and honestly, you were gonna treat yourself to some starbucks after all this crap, “JK,” He peered up at you a little before his gaze became downcast, not looking at you but you knew he was listening, “I have to go to class…” You pointed to yourself, “You...need to stay...home.” You worded it carefully, his lips trembling now and you weren’t sure if he was going to cry or not, “I’ll be back!” You rushed, hurrying to the couch where he sat as you grabbed a remote.

Pulling up Netflix as you shuffled around, deciding to put on a documentary for him on the ocean to keep him busy, maybe his language would improve meanwhile or...or he’d learn something, hell if you knew.

JK frowned, sighing as he lowered his gaze in acceptance, reaching out you sighed, grabbing his face to make him look at you, “I’ll be back.” You spoke, your thumbs tethering over his skin which felt so soft and subtle, almost even more soft than any other person you had ever met, the glow of the TV made that iridescent tone reflect just a little.

He really was the prettiest thing you had ever set your eyes on.

He said nothing before you gave his face a little squeeze before letting him go, pressing play on the TV as he turned to watch, his expression slowly melted from sadness to that curious expression as he tilted his head, a purple glow from the crescents on his hands as he watched in fascination.

You smiled a little before you grabbed your bags and slowly closed the door. You’d just hope he could figure out how to use the remote if he wanted to watch something else.

Class was slow and you couldn’t help but wonder what JK was doing the whole time much to your frustration, you needed to focus on taking notes as midterms were coming up and you would absolutely fail if you didn’t pay attention.

The whole class dragged on for two hours and in order to try and do damage control for your lack of attention you ended up going to the library to study more and make flashcards as you had originally planned before your life fell apart due to an alien binging on netflix back at home.

You eventually got a peace of mind when you pushed your earbuds in and put on music to help you focus. Proud of your work you leaned back in your chair as you sighed in contentment before your eyes finally landed on your phone, not thinking much before your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It was almost seven in the afternoon! Fuck! You’d be leaving within the hour to get to the frat.

Shoving all of your shit back into your bag you hurriedly zipped up before running out of the library, fumbling the whole way home before you entered the house in a rush. Much to your surprise though Seokjin and Jimin were already ready and JK looked happy to be around them both.

What you didn’t expect for what you had bought him to look so good, he was wearing a fitted shirt and jeans, Jimin must’ve let him borrow his leather jacket and those fingerless clothes adorned his hands, “Hey hold still!” Seokjin spoke as he kept combing his hair, obviously styling it up, “I should’ve gone into cosmetology for being this good at turning trash to gold.”

“Not everyone wants to look like Tinky Winky on steroids Seok.” You called out as you plopped your bag down in the ‘study corner’ which you and Jimin invented as a way to justify your laziness and Seokjin had said you both were on thin ice but he’d allow it because he also was lazy.

Seokjin whipped around, those bratz lips of his parting in offense as you shrugged, holding up your hands, not about to apologize for the healthy dose of truth he needed at least once a day.

“Y/n!” JK cried out, immediately running over to you making Seokjin groan as he grabbed your shoulders, frantically checking over you as if making sure you weren’t hurt. You frowned as you looked down at yourself.

“I think he was worried about you.” Jimin was licking a drumstick at the moment while sitting on the handle of the couch, “He wouldn’t stop saying your name when I first got in and he looked like a scared puppy. Had to convince him that it was not a good idea to go look for you like he first suggested.”

“Suggested?” You frowned as you looked back up at the tall boy who immediately cupped your face making you squirm a little, perhaps startled and a little touch starved, “Umm I told you I’d be back…” Not surprised he didn’t understand you but still.

You gently grabbed his wrists, tugging them away from your face as you smiled awkwardly, trying to not think about the fact that this man looked even hotter then before, if that was even possible, “I need to go get dressed.”

“Nope, nu uh, I’m not finished with you.” JK was yanked back with a whine as Seokjin grabbed him by the collar as he had attempted to follow you, much to your relief because you didn’t need another episode of earlier today.

You didn’t take too long to get dressed, choosing to stay casual as you typically would given you didn’t plan of staying long and hey, if all hell broke lose maybe you’d get yourself and JK mcdonalds on the way back.

Pulling the flannel over your shoulders you stepped out of your room, Jimin incessantly jingling his keys as he spoke, “You took too long, we’re gonna be late!”

“You’re late everywhere we go you whore.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing JK’s hand as you all left the apartment, he still seemed a bit confused as to where you all were going but had no complaints as you both sat together in the back of the car which he inspected.

Pressing the button on top of the ceiling only to immediately squint with a whine at the light, you pressed it again turning it off as you looked at him, “Stop touching things.” He pouted a little, choosing to grab your hand as he mumbled something in his own language.

The ride was short and you couldn’t stop dreading what might possibly happen at the party, one scared with JK and it was over, the police would get involved and they would take him off to some lab where he could get tested and poked and prodded and the idea was upsetting to think about. JK hadn’t been here for more then a day and somehow you decided taking him to a party was a good idea?

You crumpled in your seat, looking outside the window as you watched the party rage on in the house. Of course you wanted to avoid your ex but that wasn’t your main worry for the night. Opening the door you stepped out, JK quickly following after you as you called out, “JK...stay with me okay?”

He nodded though you weren’t quite sure if he understood, regardless he seemed happy enough to hold your hand as the three of you entered, the music was blaring and the crowd was big tonight given it was a friday and everyone could cut loose. Not the wildest you had seen but certainly not the smallest. You looked at JK in concern but much to your surprise he only looked around in curiosity as he nodded, “Party?” He asked as he raised his brows.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s a party.” You called back over the music, looking around for somewhere a little more quiet but Jimin cut in, grabbing JK’s arm, “Hey, we’re playing beerpong and I need to know if he has good aim.”

JK was immediately tugged from you as you glared at Jimin his smile cheeky, “Chill, he’ll be fine, looks like he’s used to this kind of scene. Maybe he’s a space fuckboy. We’ll watch him go relax.” JK looked back at you mildly concerned but you gave him a reassuring smile as you nodded, despite not fully agreeing with it.

Could JK even drink? You felt stressed but then again you did pour rubbing alcohol all over a wound that could have reacted like acid to him, you supposed if he knew something was dangerous he would avoid it, or so you could only hope.

“Bitch! Why haven’t you been answering my messages!?” You jumped at the sight of the blond looking ready to mow you over, Solar’s heels clicked against the ground as she nearly ran for blood at the sight of you.

Cowering a little your lips twisted into a sheepish smile, your best friend glaring down at you and a pout adorning her lips, you hadn’t meant to ignore her texts the whole day but other things had obviously taken precedent. Should you tell her?

“It better be for a good reason.” She pointed at you accusingly before you made your way to the buildable table set out with drinks on it, purposely avoiding the jungle juice you knew for a fact probably had that shitty bang energy in as you grabbed a bottle of benchmark, sure it was cheap and tasted like shit but didn’t that sum up your whole personality?

“Well…” You took a breath, your expression contorting a little as you looked up at Solar who waiting expectantly, why the fuck not? If anyone could keep a secret it was her- hence her promise to Kim Jenny in 5th grade that she wouldn’t tell you that she liked the same boy and ended up helping her ask him out.

Which you only found out about last year in a drunk truth or dare session and you marked your own words that the next time you saw Jenny you'd slap her across the face. Which you ended up not, instead you were still drunk and ended up crying with her because her dog had died earlier that day.

Still, the principle remained, Solar would keep it a secret. Taking a long chug of the mixed drink a warm burn settled in your throat, “I discovered an alien and- he has tentacles that literally fucking explode from his back.”

Solar nearly snorted out her drink as she began laughing, “Girl you watch too much hentai. Seriously, what’s up?” Her laughing died down before an uncomfortable silence sat between you both, your lips quivered only a little as you looked up at her, her expression immediately dropping, “You’re joking…”

“I wish I was Sol…” You took another long drink.

“You’re joking!” She shouted, her lips dropping, “Okay no, tell me everything! Where is it? What does it look like? You better not be pranking me right now…!”

You waved a hand, walking as she quickly followed as you recalled the events of how you found JK and what had ensued in the last 24 hours before you paused at the beerpong table, pointing at JK. Your face warm at the sight of a cocky smirk on his face, obviously his team winning as he landed yet another shot assuming by the sound of the other teams groan.

“That...Y/n…” She turned to you deflating a little at the sight of him, obviously hoping for something a little more...alien like, “You’re such an ass!”

“He is! You just can’t see the shitty avatar cosplay beneath all the clothes! He does have tentacles again, by the way...I am not crazy!” You grabbed your chest in offense, “You wanna know what I’ve been doing the last 24 hours, there it is! Trying to figure out what to do with an alien that keeps trying to bone me.”

“Bone you?” Solar raised her brows before she scoffed a little, her brows raised as she took a sip from her cup, “Thought being a monster fucker was always your thing?” You shoved her a little, making her snort in amusement, again, if you could just figure out what his motive was and...maybe have a decent conversation, “Let's say he is an alien...not that I believe you but let's say he is...what are you gonna do about it? I mean really….?”

You rubbed your head as you frowned, “Well...I don’t know.” you confessed with an awkward expression as she sighed, “I just…! I’m assuming he probably has his own plan…! But generally I’m hoping as he learned english- which is extremely fast by the way- that he’ll eventually tell us what happened and where to go from here I mean…”

You frowned a little, something sad stirring inside you, there was nothing holding JK back from just leaving you all one night when he’s found what he needs, or figures out where to go or...whatever it is he’s doing here, “If he even stays here long enough…”

Solar hummed before tapping her cheek, “That’s it, I’m playing against him, he hasn’t missed a single shot.” You tried to call out to her but it was useless, when Solar was determined, nothing would stop her.

You sighed as you turned away, feeling too much anxiety from watching JK to try and come in further especially if he caught sight of you. JK surprisingly enough seemed as though he had fun a lot of the night, you had stayed curled up in a corner on your phone most of the time brooding while nursing your drink which had admittedly helped you relax a little.

Eventually though, good times always come to an end, this being no exception, “Hey babe, long time no see?” You stared down at your phone, scrolling through instagram as you ignored the sound of Mark’s voice, “Awwh c’mon, don’t ignore me.”

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes before you put away your phone, looking up at him as you raised a brow trying to ignore your heart racing just a hair, “Can I help you?” You asked, trying to act as if this totally wasn’t freaking you the fuck out.

“You sure can,” Mark flirted, sending you that wink that was the very reason you had spun out in the first place with this guy and god you couldn’t deny his flirty nature always got the best of you, “Me and Lisa were hoping for a third in bed tonight and I thought, what girl would be better than my main girl.”

He smiled, delicately holding your chin with a proud look and for a half a second you had forgotten how much of a bitch he was, that was until your mind lingered on the word ‘main girl’ to which your lips curled slowly, “...Main girl?” You scoffed immediately slapping his hand away as you shouted, “Main girl!? Since when was I the main girl!?” You watched Mark groan as you shook your head, “Uh no! You came up to me! You don’t get to act like this and you were the one that left me in the first place, why don’t you go back to your main girl!”

“God you’re so over emotional-” You didn’t even let the little gaslighting fuck finish before you splashed him with your drink, a scoff escaping him as he raised his brows, “Are you fucking serious Y/n?”

“Yeah, fuck you.” You shoved him before walking out of the kitchen, what a piece of shit! How dare he act all put out when he was the one that approached you, in a total douchebag way at that! You weren’t sure where everybody had went and at this point it was almost ten o’clock and you didn’t care! You just wanted to take a warm shower and go to bed!

You stepped down the stairs of the frat house and into the cool night as as you heaved a breath, scoffing as you rolled your eyes, this was exactly why you hated going to frat parties at Beta Tau now because you almost always ended up in an argument with Mark.

Stupid little fuck. You muttered it to yourself as you wrapped the flannel around you, your eyes warily finding that of a drunk elderly man who definitely appeared in his forties, alone and his eyes immediately finding your lone figure.

You kept your eyes on your phone as you slowly approached in hopes of walking past him, you hated parties, you hated going out at night, you hated the fact that you let yourself get so heated in the moment, “Well aren’t you just looking pretty tonight sweetheart.” You sighed in exasperation at the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Thanks.” You offered dryly, not even attempting to smile because you knew it would just sound like that much more of an invitation to him and yet, even your singular dry word was enough of a green light to him.

A hand suddenly wrapped around your upperarm yanking you over as you squeaked out, “How about I take you back to my place? Show you a good time yeah?” He reeked of beer and your nose wrinkled as your expression twisted and your hands trembled.

“Sir- I..I really need to get home…” You mumbled, not wanting to provoke him but your fear was getting the better of you by the second as you tried to keep yourself from panicking. You’ve never gone out tonight and you should’ve stood your ground regardless of who went were.

His hands squeezed on your arms eliciting a noise of pain from you and you couldn’t even look at the guy as he growled, “Or I could go home with you sweetheart, or better yet. Why don’t we go over here…! Ow you bitch!” You had smashed his foot with your own but it wasn’t enough for him to let go of you.

Instead his grip only got tighter making you cry out in pain as your eyes stung with tears, wishing he could just let you go...Within seconds though the man was nearly ripped away from you and a larger figure had wedged between you both, “Leave.” It was a one word command that was clear and demanding from JK, you couldn’t see his face and you weren’t sure you wanted too.

JK was shoved back from the guy and taking this as an offense, you nearly jumped back at the sight of tentacles bursting from his back, your eyes bulging at the sight, not a single rip in his clothes as if they were transparent yet a lightening of bright fiery ran streaked through him. Your lips nearly dropped though because they obviously weren’t too transparent as JK used them to slam the guy into a wall with enough force to drive him unconscious.

“JK! Hey! Woah holy shit!” You grabbed your head, JK whipped around, anger still evident on his face but his concern had taken over as he called out your name, what he hadn’t expected as for you to drag him into the alleyway.

Tentacles still gracefully flowing behind him as if they were underwater, your eyes darting everywhere and anywhere for anyone to have possibly seen and yet…! “Don’t you ever do that again!” You hissed, grabbing your head in stress, if anyone saw that…! Anyone it was over! “Someone could’ve see you!”

JK might not have fully understood what you said, but he could understand a few words here and there and your tone of voice, his expression darkening and his lips twitching in anger and disagreement, “Hurt!” He growled back pointing at you.

“I don’t care if I got hurt!” You cried out, running your hands through your hair, anxiety shot through your veins, “You can’t do that!” You pointed at his tentacles, “You aren't human! Humans can’t do that!”

“Hurt!” He growled even louder, now grabbing your forearms in demand, firm enough that you couldn’t pull away but gentle enough that it didn’t hurt, “Y/n hurt!” He emphasized as best he could, his nose wrinkling in frustration as he spoke, “Protect!” It was spoken a little word but you understood overall what he meant.

“Yes you can protect me that’s fine! But you have to act human!” You pointed at yourself, shaking his arm away before forcefully rolling up his sleeve, the marks which were burning red, “Human!” You snapped as you pointed at your own bare arm compared to his, “Not human!” You pointed to JK’s, “You can’t be that careless!”

You were just lucky that the guy was drunk and hopefully wouldn’t remember any of this, JK’s lips twitched as if he still didn’t agree with you, snapping something back in his own tongue as he roughly shoved his sleeve back down before he went on what sounded like a long rant, the tentacles retracting into his back once more as he threw his arms up and you stepped back a little.

You had never heard him so...vocal...or angry before...Which you had brought on yourself, you understood he thought it was the right thing to do and it would’ve been fine had he not decided to get his four other tendons involved. You above anything else, didn’t want JK to be taken from you. JK kept going though in his tongue, directly all of his- what sounded like unpleasant words at you as you crossed your arms, looking at the ground with gritted teeth and ignoring the way your eyes were attempting to blur in tears.

Even if you couldn’t understand him you were positive you didn’t like or agree with whatever he was saying. You fixed your flannel that had been ruffled from the man as you sniffled harshly, trying to ignore the wet warm tears that began trickling down your face. JK had paused from his rant before frowning, watching the liquid trickling down your face as you closed your eyes.

Puffing a breath he sighed, figuring it wasn’t any use in trying to talk to you anyways, Orion tongue was beyond ancient to human civilization which is why he hadn’t bothered trying to say any sort of phrases in his own language.

JK couldn’t stand seeing you like this, from what he observed on- if he assumed he was correct- the TV, humans often depicted this as sadness. Unable to stand this gesture JK did what he had watched, wrapping his arms around you in a form of human affection as he set his chin on top of your head, wetness staining his shirt and he held a silent victorious moment at your reciprocation to his affection. Trying to bond with you had been such a pain in the ass with the language barrier and you almost always looked uncomfortable any time he tried to initiate a bonding session.

True the locations might have been inappropriate but he was excited, he wanted to find a mate and soon, after all that was part of the original plan, even if it wasn’t supposed to be on earth. You had mumbled something he couldn’t quite figure out until you had mentioned the word Home, as in the place you slept. JK nodded, assuming that was where you had intended on going in the first place.

He had caught sight of you leaving the house extremely upset and he wanted to tag along in hope that maybe with some alone time at the house, you’d both finally be able to properly bond, he could feel his scaling warm a bit and he could even spot a tint of pink from beneath his gloves much to his embarrassment.

Knowing this was a human affection JK kept his arm wrapped around you as you both walked home, your hands on your eyes as you sniffled a little and you hadn’t spoken the entire walk back making him a little sad. Your voice was soft and pleasant on his ears which often picked up too many odd and miscellaneous sounds.

Pulling off your flannel you sighed, muttering something that he leaned in a little to focus on understanding, knowing it sounded something like an apology. JK only offered a small smile, “Friend?” He spoke softly, he liked that word, it was the first one you had taught him after all.

You nodded, looking severely tired as you repeated the word back before padding to your room to get changed, little by little JK understood more and more about humanity on Earth which wasn’t exactly new, but rather...a bit archaic by Orionia’s standards.

JK had made sure to go into the room with the odd looking boat to change into clothes, knowing it always elicited an odd reaction from you whenever he changed in front of you. Getting into something more comfortable he could appreciate the human need for comfort.

Feeling a bit timid he peeped into your room where you laid on your bed, looking half asleep but you gestured him in much to his excitement, understanding bonding wouldn’t likely happen now that you were too tired but he appreciated your company, you made things much easier for his stay on Earth.

Pulling out your lap held device JK tilted his head, oh…! This was like the mainboard back on the ship, just a smaller version of it, a computer? But a lap verison? He furrowed his brows a little, the name on the tip of his tongue as his nose wrinkled. Much to his delight though you typed up the same place where he had been watching educational videos earlier today.

He only hoped you’d stay this time, he had been extremely worried the Arbitrator's had found you, your friends however had said multiple times you were just at ‘Class’ whatever that was. And they seemed calm enough and if they knew your routine then...he had no reason to assume they were conspiring with the enemy.

Much to his happiness you laid back down as you stretched out before curling up, your eyes closing as he clicked onto the video of the ocean, as he had learned Earth held quite the exotic lifeform in the sea.

It was nearing 11:30 which you had pointed at the clock earlier today except now it was dark out, JK could only deduce there was certain names for eating at certain times of the day, he tapped on his chin, scrolling down the assortment of human entertainment. Wanting something to figure out how to win your affection to be his mate. A loud piercing screech nearly jolted him out of bed, holding his head as he frantically looked towards you before feeling relief fill him. If you couldn’t hear this then…!

He fumbled as he hurried to the window, pushing through the blinds as he peered out, seeing a large flare being shot up into the sky in a deep hue of blue and purple, that acted as something he saw on a video. A firework, if he remembered correctly. JK perked up, Taehyung and Namjoon must be okay, this was what…? At least ten miles south, in human terms? He remembered that much from the academy.

JK nearly ran out the door before he paused, his eyes looking over your sleeping figure he...he couldn't just leave you here...and…! He perked up, “Y/n!” He called out, jostling you awake as you rolled over with a groan, “Y/n! Home!” He spoke determined, if he could get you to go with him then he could explain everything.

“What? JK seriously? This better be important.” You groaned as your eyes tiredly cracked opened at the sight of doe eyes looking at you urgently, he nearly ripping you out of bed with a squeak, “Home!” He spoke as he brought your shoes to you before pointing out the window, “Home!”

...Oh...oh god, this was going to be a long night, wasn’t it…?

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #bts scenarios #alien!jungkook

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une-catastrophe · 3 years

Text

p. parker: just a taste

just a taste. (1)

for the lovely @callherchanel, not sure if this is entirely what you wanted, but i hope you enjoy it! thank you for requesting.

synopsis: reader wants to slut peter out but finds that peter is not as innocent as she expected... (18+)

word count: 2.7k

pairing: impulsive!peter parker x black!fem!reader, both over 18.

warnings: consent starts off a bit dubious here,, peter has a hard time expressing himself with words, but i assure you that everything is consensual <3

a/n: hiiii so, i haven’t written smut in a while so please please pleaseee be kind, let me know if you liked it and if you have any feedback please tell me! i would love to hear from you all! also, i realized that i could def write more of this particular pairing so let me know if you’d like to see more of this!!! enjoy c:

you and peter worked in different areas of stark industries. you only knew him as mr. stark’s intern and briefly saw him in your peripherals as he passed by the medical labs on his way to mr. stark’s office. you didn’t pay him much mind, as you were often too busy with your own tasks such as experimenting with the limited alien tech your team was provided. but, occasionally during lunch, when sitting with your peers in the mess hall you would catch him sitting alone, eating a sandwich from delmar’s and staring at you. you would give him a small smile and he would blush and look away, and sure you found it cute but that's all. he probably just had a harmless little crush.

it was a thursday evening, a little past clock out time when mr. stark himself strolled into your lab. when you looked up, you found that it was more than a few minutes past five and nearing 7pm. surely, he was here to scold you for staying so late.

“dr. stark! i am so sorry, i didn’t even realize how late it was--” you start, heat rising on your cheeks.

“dr. stark… that’s different,” he interrupts, “appreciated, but just call me tony.”

you nod, “of course….tony…. again, i apologize--”

and he shakes his head and waves his hand as a dismissal, “totally fine, you’re not in trouble. in fact, i do admire the work ethic… shows you’re passionate about this stuff. but anyway, i’ve got a date in about…” he checks his watch and grimaces, “15 minutes ago, and my partner is going to kill me. i came by to formally request your presence in my lab and help my assistant out with this project we’re working on. shouldn’t take long, we had a long awaited breakthrough this morning.”

your heart definitely leaped in your throat at this, the excitement and the nervousness pairing into a wonderful couple that left you speechless. tony stark wanted you to work in his lab! how amazing was that? and you guess you were speechless for a little too long, because the man whistled as if trying to capture your attention.

“errr.. i know, huuuge deal, yeah. but i’ve uh, heard good things about you y/n, my assistant thinks highly of you and i trust him, so...” he shrugs. “interested?”

and at this you nod frantically, hoping it doesn’t come off as too frantic, “yes! yes, of course! i would love to.”

“cool, cool. i’m gonna head out, friday will lead you to the lab, see ya!” he says, already out the door when you can mutter to yourself:

“who the hell is friday?”

with the help of the kind ai, you make your way to the lab in a secluded area of stark tower. upon entering, you see a figure hovered over a desk full of papers and slowly make your way to them.

“hi! you must be mr. stark’s assistant, im--”

“y/n,” he finishes for you. when he stands from his hovered position and faces you, you’re pleasantly surprised.

it’s just:

“peter,” you greet, “intern turned assistant,” and he nods, visibly swallowing. and if you weren’t so busy realizing how attractive he actually was, you would have noticed how he nearly broke the pencil in his hand while he was clenching his fists.

“i uh--” he starts off quietly, “i didn’t realize you.. you knew my n-name…” he stammers, unable to stop staring at the browns of your eyes.

you laugh breathlessly and look away, “and i didn’t realize you knew mine,” you counter playfully, placing your bag on the ground and taking in the desk of papers. “but yeah, i mean-- you’re kind of a big deal around here.” you turn away from the desk and roam your eyes across the vast lab space, “tony stark’s assistant and all.”

he nods, “y-yeah… i guess so,” watching your figure as you turned away from him… you had such a nice body. he didn’t get to see you from behind often, mostly just your face… and occasionally your breasts when you wore a form fitting top. but your backside just made him ache all over... as if you couldn’t be anymore perfect. he finds himself biting the inside of his lip to the point where he nips himself, blood coating his tongue. you were so close to him… he could-- he could smell you, and your sweetness from up close. your perfume, hints of your body lotion, and whatever sweet-scented products you put in your passion twists. he could only imagine the euphoria he would experience if he had the pleasure of burying his face in your neck. to just—

snap.

the breaking of the pencil shakes you both out of your reveries, he shoves the broken pencil in his pocket and clears his throat. “let’s… let’s get t-to work.”

you find that peter speaks quietly, so you have to sit close to him to fully hear what he’s saying. if you were still suspecting a crush, you were sure of it now. and it’s not as if he was bad looking, so you bat your eyelashes, bite your lip when he speaks directly to you, brush your hand against his when pointing at a distinct design. but, time seems to pass slowly and you decide what mr. stark and peter do in this lab is not as exciting as you thought. your innocent flirtations truly become innocent flirtations as the week’s stress caught up to you. usually at this time, you were home, curled up on your couch while catching up on your favorite show. so when peter leaves for a water break, you do your best to fight back yawns as your eyes become heavily lidded before you slip into a peaceful nap.

peter comes back quietly after asking friday what you were doing; she kindly supplied that you had shut your eyes for a moment. peter swallows when he sees your sleeping figure, silently grateful for the opportunity to stare at you unabashedly. your dark brown skin, long eye lashes, lips pouting as you slept. you had taken off your sweater and shoved it in your bag earlier, better exposing the swell of your breasts fighting the material of your tight blouse… they look so soft… he swallows again, fighting against the urge to touch you while you were unconscious. that… would be wrong.

so instead, he touches himself.

he’s thankful for the desk that hid his hardon these past few hours, from the moment he had laid eyes on you tonight, pre cum had been leaking in his briefs.

he takes the seat next to you; slowly and quietly unzips his pants.. watching you as you exhale through your lips, as your chest rises and descends. he palms himself through his briefs and hisses through his teeth, jaw clenching uncomfortably. you look… so adorable. he cannot wrap his head around it, how effortlessly you do it.

he pulls himself out of his underwear and his flushed, leaking cock pulsates in his grip. slowly, he strokes himself trying to savor the moment, knowing that he probably will never get this opportunity again. he’s touched himself to the thought of you before, he imagines the smiles you give him during lunch, your hunched over position when he walks past your lab. he imagines you watching him— as he touches himself, telling him he’s doing a good job, telling him to speed up— to slow down.

you sniff in your sleep, and god, you’re so damn cute. he bites the inside of his lip again, already healed from the previous cut and tries to stifle his moans, he needs to make this last so he can imprint this memory in his mind forever. his cock is so sensitive, every stroke making his toes curl. it’s getting hot and— and overwhelming, he quickly undoes his tie and unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt as sweat starts to bead on his forehead. you always had this effect on him, making his heart accelerate to dangerous speeds when you simply just look his way. his head was starting to spin now, eyes becoming heavy lidded, breath becoming labored. he tilts his head back, hoping for some air as his eyes roll to the back of his head, his fist tighter around his cock as he picks up the pace.

the pleasure is almost too much.

he hears you groan, and his eyes make their way to your pretty face once more, noticing that you’re starting to wake up. he should stop. he should definitely stop, but he really can’t bring himself to. he finds himself entranced by the way you awaken. the confusion on your face, the pout on your lips, the way you try to wipe the exhaustion away with the back of your hand. you don’t notice him at first, but when you do, you freeze. body tensing as you come face to face with peter parker’s massive dick.

you never expected him to be so well-endowed.

later, you will blame the remnants of sleep tugging at your willpower when you ask yourself why it took you so long to look away, why you found yourself getting aroused by just the sight of it. but, as reality catches up, you’re filled with disgust and a bit of shock when you realize that peter was just jacking off to your sleeping form.

“it’s not what it looks like,” he explains, “i’m not--, i wasn’t going to--”

“and you’re still touching yourself,” you murmur, struck with a strange sense of wonder. peter was…. odd.

a small whimper emits from his mouth and you want to hate the way your body responds to that, “i don’t have any bad intentions,” he tries, “you’re just so beautiful.. i- i couldn’t help myself.”

and so here you are, watching peter parker pant and whimper while he jerks his massive cock to the mere sight of you. and truthfully, you’ve never seen anyone look at you the way peter has, filled with pure adoration and wonder.

this could be fun.

you stand then, and slowly make your way over to his trembling form and when you reach him, you press your hand against the wall behind him, effectively caging him. he watches you, as your brown eyes bore into his, and you’re so close… he can smell your perfume, hints of your body lotion, and whatever sweet-scented products you put in your passion twists and… your arousal… his mind clouds as he takes it in, his jaw clenches as his mouth waters… you were just so damned perfect. his eyes rake over your face, your body… you’re so close, he could just--

he grabs your hand in his, placing it on the reddened tip of his cock, and squeaks out a moan. you feel better than he could have imagined. his fantasies never last this long, your beauty and small smiles are always enough to get him through his lonely nights. “p-please,” he pants, guiding your hand to stroke his cock.

after pushing away your initial shock, you do stroke him, but you are not gentle. tugging roughly at his sensitive cock, you chuckle at the tenseness it brings about in his body. “come on,” you husk, your lips hovering over his. “let me hear you,” and hear him you do as the gates open. he moans, he whimpers, he growls, and he hiccups; each sound arousing you further and further. you watch him as he nears his release, the way his jaw slackens, the way his eyes roll back, the way his head tilts forward—his forehead pressing against your cheek, the choked off moans and whimpers that fall from his red bitten lips shamelessly. “you like that?” you taunt, flicking your thumb painfully over his tip. after that, it doesn’t take long for him to cum, the white ropes are seemingly never ending as you continue to stroke him to the point of over stimulation. it’s the least you could do. after all, he was jacking off to you while you were sleeping; he deserved to be punished, at least a little.

his orgasm lets his entire body snap, like a rubber band. the over stimulation making him squeeze his eyes shut tight and his toes curl. he is completely at your mercy, and knows that he would let you do whatever you wanted, all he can do is beg. your hand feels glorious on him, to be trapped under you like this is a dream surpassed. he feels giddy knowing that you’re sharing the same air and that he’s panting onto your lips. he’s never been so close to you before and for reasons other than his orgasm, it’s making his head spin. he feels as if he’s slipping, losing control especially as you continue to stroke his spent cock, his begging falling on deaf ears. but, as he opens his eyes, to maybe plea with them, he sees you’ve moved even closer, and your lips are right there--

and he kisses you, so strongly and passionately that your grip on his dick falters. his kiss takes you by surprise and what he lacks in finesse he makes up with enthusiasm, a weak arm wrapping around you and bringing you to straddle his lap. and you moan then because, all of this has you really fucking turned on. hearing your sweet sounds spur peter and his kisses. you taste even better than he imagined and your kisses were so sweet, hearing you moan was enough to get his dick to twitch weakly under your skirt. his other hand comes to your hair, gripping your twists, and causing you to moan again.

forcibly, you push yourself away and rest your head on his shoulder, breathing heavily. your hand trails from his neck to his bare chest stopping at his waist. you raise your head to find that peter is already watching you, the same look of pure adoration and wonder in his eyes. slowly, you bring your soiled hand to his lips and without prompt, his tongue flicks out to lick at his cum. his eyes are heavy lidded as he sucks your digits into his mouth, and you can’t help but get further aroused at his ministrations. so aroused that you pull your hand away and plant your lips against his once more. this kiss slower and deeper than the last, you taking the lead. you taste his sex on his tongue and find that he tastes pretty good… better than what you’ve experienced before.

while you let him explore your mouth, peter decides that he wants to taste every single crevice of yours, to see if there are variations of how sweet you taste. he wonders if your neck tastes as good as it smells, if your breasts taste as good as look. and your arousal, with the way he is heady on your most carnal scent now, he wonders if he could truly get drunk off of tasting you in your most private area.

you give him one last kiss before pulling away entirely, appreciating the daze you had left him in. his eyes are unfocused as they meet yours and he pants heavily while his hands tighten around the spot they’ve found on your waist. “this was fun,” you sigh, running your hands through his soft brown curls, then find yourself gently kissing him again. mostly because you love the way he is looking at you, “you should clean yourself up. i’m gonna head home,” you say as you get off him, your legs only shaking slightly. you bend over to grab your stuff, fully aware that peter is checking you out, and make sure your hips sway a bit more as you make your way to the exit, “ill see you tomorrow, peter.”

on your way home, you can’t really understand why the hell you didn’t just slap the shit out of peter and leave the minute you caught him jerking off to you. and as creepy as it was… ugh, you couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered? that was bad, right? liking the feeling of being objectified… as a black woman nonetheless. you shook your head and sighed, hopefully you could sleep this off and wake up with a sound mind tomorrow morning.

#thank you for reading #peter parker x black!reader #tom holland x black!reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #peter parker #tom holland #avengers x reader #avengers x black!reader #sugar writes

330 notes · View notes

warmau · 3 years

Text

"i don't even like bugs."

jaemin shrugs as he shows his intern pass to the security of the front gates of the botanical garden

he mentions that you're accompanying him today as a visitor and you smile at the guard who pays you two half a gaze

"well i mean - they're butterflies not like cockroaches or anything so have some optimism?"

you don't argue, among your group of friends jaemin is kind of the symbol of optimism. sometimes it's misguided - like now - but you don't want to put a damper on his mood

after all, he's actually here to do a job

you are here on a summer assignment you have to complete for a photography elective you added to your uni program for the next semester

"nature photography" was the highlight of the project, everyone had been emailed a subject to take pictures of while off from school

you had expected maybe the beach, or flowers, or even tourists walking around in floppy hats

when you'd opened the professor's email and saw "butterflies" you had not been thrilled

but you were lucky enough to know that jaemin had scored his current internship at the botanical gardens, and while he was working with his weirdly favorite thing in the world - fungi

he could also get you access to the butterfly garden, a large indoor space for the various breeds of butterflies from around the world, before it officially opened to the public

"the pavilion is over there, i think renjun will be able to let you in."

jaemin says, pointing down a hill lined by pretty bushes that leads to a glass structure at the bottom

you turn to ask if he wants to meet for lunch, but he's already jogging in the opposite direction

you sigh, fishing your camera out of your bag - which is something you've borrowed from your parents because 'iphone photos are not allowed'

they're just butterflies like jaemin said, they're like...cute bugs.

you tell yourself as you get closer, turning the camera on and then coming to a pause in front of the glass doors that have a clear padlock on them

you loop around and try to find 'renjun' - but no one is in sight

secretly a little relieved that you don't have to go inside right away, you try to find a part of the glass structure where you can possibly get a nice shot of some of the butterflies from outside

a lot of the vines and flowers get in the way, so you struggle until finally, you find a spot that's open and peers right into the middle of the enclosed garden

you can see the butterflies, little splashes of colors that fly past you - magnificent oranges, reds, and blues

you admit they're pretty

but they're even prettier because they're not near you

and then something - no someone - comes into your frame

his narrow shoulders are engulfed by an oversized plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up by the elbows.

over the shirt is a gardening apron and on his hands are a pair of worn-out gloves

his profile is hidden by the dark hair that falls in a curtain and ends in a tickle at his jawline.

one, bright streak of bleach blonde runs through the black.

he reaches out to touch a half-bloomed flower and you watch as the butterflies float on by him

you nearly drop the camera when he turns and locks his gaze with your own

is that renjun? if so im going to kill jaemin! he didn't tell me he was so infuriatingly pretty!

without knowing how to talk to him through the glass, and because the words disintegrate in your mouth, you point to the camera

"jaemin's friend?"

oh, you can hear through the glass

"ye-yeah!"

"one second."

the sound of a click and some scuttling turns your attention toward where the door to the garden opens for a swift second, just enough for renjun to step through, before it closes again

probably to make sure none of the butterflies get out

you grip your camera and when renjun doesn't move, you make the small trip over to him

"jaemin said you're here for a project."

renjun speaks and his voice is softer when it isn't muffled through glass

"for my photography class in the fall, my subject is butterflies."

"what kind?"

your eyes get a little wider with confusion

"what kind?" you parrot

renjun's neutral expression doesn't change

"what kind of butterflies? there are over seventeen thousand species of butterflies - we might not have the species you are looking for."

"i-" you stammer, wondering for a split second if renjun is joking around, "there isn't a specific species it's just....all of them?"

renjun tilts his head as if that notion doesn't really make sense to him, but shrugs and turns toward the door again

"im going to open it quickly so just follow me."

you make a sound of agreement, but when renjun pulls the handle and steps inside.....and you can't move.

the door closes behind him with a sound that makes you jump and renjun turns to stare at you through the glass with a furrowed brow

"what are you doing?"

he doesn't bother opening the door again and you shake your head as a shiver runs through your shoulders

"a-actually is it ok if i stay out here?"

"i thought you needed to take photos?"

"i can take them from here - this lens is r-really good."

renjun doesn't seem to be buying your excuse, but he checks his watch and nods, before disappearing back into the middle of the indoor garden

you take a second to try and figure out what happened - am i scared of going inside? is it the butterflies or is it renjun?

you decide it's the butterflies.

renjun's just a boy - you aren't scared of that, but the thought of being somewhere covered with bugs

pretty bugs or not

is kind of ..... scary.

you pick your camera back up and circle back to your original spot

although renjun is nowhere in the focus, you are delighted to see some butterflies have come to nestle among the plants in view

you bring up the camera and take some shots

one butterfly is sitting directly on the leaves - big grayish, blue wings spread open and engulfed in the sunlight that shines through the glass

you zoom in on it, capturing the full expanse of the wings that stand out on the green

you get so invested you hardly notice the door open up again and then a voice speaks from behind your shoulder

"it's a pseudozizeeria maha."

you don't turn around and just stare at the butterfly still

"a wha- what?"

"a pale grass blue. they're native to south asia but are really common here too. they were first discovered by vincenz kollar, an austrian entomologist."

the sentence nearly makes you dizzy, but you thank renjun for the information

not seeing the small shy smile that casts over his lips when you do

you want to turn and show him the shot you took, but he's already stepping past you to the other side of the pavilion

the time sort of slips away from you before you can check it again and you only leave when jaemin comes jogging down from the greenery to whisk you off for lunch

"should we invite ren-"

you start, but jaemin is already twinkling eyes and nonstop talking about all the fun fungi he's spent his day with.

when you're back home you start to look through the photos you took

most of them aren't super great and the shine of the sun reflects on the glass

you know the only way you're going to get a perfect shot (or at least an acceptable one for this dumb summer project) is if you go inside the actual butterfly garden

sighing, you click to the last shot and are surprised to see that in the far left corner you see renjun's hand - gloved and in the palm of it is a small butterfly that has landed just in time for your shutter to go off

the rest of renjun is out of focus so you can't even see his, very pretty, face

isn't it weird, that he can be around them so easily and im so scared?

you zoom in a bit and wonder how nice it would have been to get a clear photo of the moment. that would be something you could definitely submit to your professor.

before any more thoughts of renjun can float through your mind, your phone pings and you look to see jaemin's contact name

did you get your shot? you can come with me on my next shift if you want to take more photos

you type back a reply before you can even think of it in your head

really? then I'll tag along :) want to take some more photos

jaemin confirms and then sends another paragraph talking about mushrooms and leaves and plants

and you giggle because he's funny and passionate, and also

guess i might see renjun again?

it's hotter than you can put into words the next time you show up at the butterfly garden

you're standing outside in the absolute sweltering heat and maybe the thought of possible colder temperatures inside the pavilion are tempting

plus - renjun is in there - he had waved at you when he saw you standing outside again

this time his apron thrown over a short sleeve shirt and some long jeans

he had motioned toward the door but you had just played off that you were ok outside. burning alive or whatever.

you found the same spot as before, wiping the sweat from your forehead before lifting the camera up in hopes of catching a good picture

but all you see through the lens was renjun, who'd taken the time to roll up the sleeves of his shirt and had seemingly abandoned the heavy apron somewhere inside

his longer hair had been clipped back and he was reaching down to heave a bag of soil up and over his shoulder

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

you are caught between taking a photo and just aiming your lens somewhere else out of embarrassment

either way, renjun doesn't seem to notice and continues working, saving you from the horror that would be seeing him turn and stare back at you

but this somehow goes on for the entire time you're there

you go to snap a photo, but renjun is somewhere in the frame

it must just be bad luck and timing

but by the time you're sitting at the garden's cafe with jaemin after his shift and you're going through your photos

all of them have renjun in them somehow

"woah i thought your project was butterflies not huang renjun's?"

jaemin jokes, sipping his iced coffee with an overly excited wiggle of his eyebrows

"shuttup - i just....it's because i am taking them from the outside, i need to figure out a way to get inside and just take the photo and be done with it!"

jaemin outstretches his hand

"gimmie your camera, ill go take one"

you snatch the camera off the table and vehemently shake your head

"no. the last time i trusted you with something expensive, you broke it in the first five minutes."

"hey! i thought ipads were waterproof nowadays like technology really hasn't come that far?"

you roll your eyes in response, to which jaemin sticks out his tongue and then claps his hands together in revelation

"why not ask renjun to take the photo?"

"because i don't know him that we-"

with a dismissive wave of his hand jaemin cuts you off

"he's not a stranger - i know him! if i know him, you know him. plus renjun is super careful and responsible - he's my age and ive already heard some of the directors talking about how they'd hire him as more than an intern if he wasn't still in university!"

wow, i mean i always got the impression he was mature, but...

"c'mon, i bet he'll say yes too! he's really nice!"

finally agreeing and promising jaemin you'll ask renjun when you come back to the garden again

you pretend the nervous feeling in your stomach is just because you don't know renjun that well

not because you also happen to think he's breathtaking to look at - and that it's going to be hell trying to explain to someone who knows so much about insects that you're too scared to go inside and take a measly little photo of them

you find yourself at home, with your laptop open, googling species of butterflies because you think you should at least pick one and ask renjun if he can possibly take a photo of that one

maybe your effort will make the conversation easier

maybe he'll like that i know the latin name for a - what was it? gonepteryx cleopatra?

of course, the next time jaemin brings you along - and abandons you with a thumbs up for his mushrooms and fungi - you are frozen still at the entrance of the butterfly garden

like a broken machine - you just re-read the sign over and over again - announcing that the garden will be finally open to the public in a week

and you nearly short circuit when someone clears their throat behind you

turning around, it's of course renjun, and he's giving you a weird look that is already making this whole situation bad

"h-hey renjun-"

"do you want to go inside with me today?"

you swallow and think you should really just suck it up and go inside. the butterflies aren't going to sting, bite, or eat you - but

"a-actually i wanted to ask you does the garden have any.....any um....gonep- um whats the word gonepetry? gonepetri? um-"

without a beat renjun finishes the sentence for you

"gonepteryx cleopatra's? no, those butterflies favor the mediterranean so getting them here is hard."

"right...well actually i was wondering"

renjun blinks

"oh and you can call them cleopatra's if you want. but unfortunately no, i don't have any in the garden."

god ok, how do i pivot this conversation...

"oh that's cute, um actually i also have a question-"

he waits expectingly and for some odd reason as the second's tick by he gets cuter and you get quieter and it is just a huge mess

and you think you should just book it and let renjun think you're a weirdo

when you finally lift up your camera and take a breath

"do you think you could take the photo of a butterfly for me?"

his brown eyes widen

"oh - like the photo for your project?"

"y-yeah. it's just......im really scared to go in there...bugs are not my thing. i know it's pathetic and they're just butterflies but-"

you look down and the sun and renjun's gaze are getting too heavy to handle

"but i just don't know if i can even focus when there are so many flying around....does that make sense?"

the beat of silence that follows is almost miserable but renjun just points behind him and says

"follow me."

the next thing you know you are trying to keep up with him as he walks past the butterfly garden and down a path hugged by greenery

it's way past where you've ever been and you ask renjun where he's going

only for him to insist you hurry up a little bit

before you know it you are both standing in front of a large, open iron gate, and behind it are rows and rows and rows of rose bushes

they range in color and size and the smell that permeates the air is so lovely you suddenly feel like you're in a fairytale

renjun leans closely to inspect a couple and then stops in front of a bush adorned in the brightest pink roses you must have ever seen in your life

"butterflies are attracted to roses, the colors are vibrant and they pollinate them."

"b-butterflies pollinate? like bees?"

renjun laughs, the sound adds to the almost dreamy vibe - with the way it sounds like the lightest piano keys

"yes and look - i can understand that you'd be scared of being inside a place full of butterflies, but here in the rose garden there are only a couple here and there."

he squats down and cups the petals of a flower with such a gentleness

you follow and are surprised to see a butterfly, with bright blue wings, nestled in the center of the rose

renjun flicks his eyes to your camera bag and you immediately understand why he's brought you here

without making too much noise you get your camera out and steady the lens - just one butterfly does not intimidate you like being in a glass, enclosed pavillion full of hundreds

so you can take the photo easily - though just as you click the shutter makes a noise and the butterfly takes off

you pout and look up to see if renjun is startled by the sudden escape of the focus of your photograph

when you gasp and see that another butterfly, this one a bright orange has settled on the tip of renjun's nose

without missing the moment - you raise the camera

and snap another photo, not taking the time to adjust the zoom or anything

just wanting to capture the little miracle

the butterfly seems to recognize renjun's pretty face is not a flower, not that you fault the butterfly for thinking that it was

as it flaps its wings and goes in search of another rose

you brighten up when you look at the preview on your camera

no blur or sun glare! it's a perfect shot!

and you lean close to renjun to show him and he leans in too

and the centimeter distance only dawns on the two of you when you look up and renjun has already turned his attention on you two

a heat spreads up your face, as it does renjun's and you both pull back from the scalding feeling

"i-"

"sorry-"

shooting back up to your feet you kind of wobble in this moment of awkwardness and then renjun asks

"will you use that photo for your project?"

"oh - if you don't want me to i won't, i think i can use the other-"

"you can use it."

he rubs his arm and then locks his gaze back on you

"but does this mean you won't come back to the gardens anymore?"

i guess since my project is done, he's right. i don't have any excuse to come and bother him by loitering around anymore.

you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and give a little shrug

"probably, jaemin's internship ends soon too so-"

"then would you be ok with seeing me- well-"

renjun flusters

which is somehow a shocking different from his usual blank expression of utter handsomeness. the stark difference is loveable and you almost have to stop yourself from falling over.

"well what i mean is would you want to maybe see me - outside of the garden.....like not here but somewhere else?"

"to hangout?"

you grip your camera and renjun half nods, but then you can see he's trying to think of the right word

"yes to hangout and like....but different, like a different kind of hangout."

confusion settles on your face and you are about to ask what he means exactly when someone burst between you two

"there you two are! sorry, was i interrupting renjun asking you on a date?"

jaemin's voice manages to echo even though you're all outside

and you push him playfully as renjun rids himself of jaemin's body weight and huffs

"aren't you supposed to be looking at toadstools are something jaemin?"

"first of all, toadstools are unscientific and not the correct term for a class of mushrooms. so mind your manners, and second - why would i want to miss the exciting moment where you too finally agree to go out!"

you catch renjun's gaze and it's as big and as wide as yours

"w-was that what you were asking, if i would go on a date with you?"

the words shock you ask they spill from your mouth

renjun nods, slowly, and then casts a look at jaemin

"yes. before this one interrupted."

jaemin looks between you two as if he is guilty of nothing

for a second you forget about him and then nod back

"y-yes id love to!"

renjun's face softens and he's about to ask for your number when jaemin claps his hands and the sound probably rattles the earth underneath you three

"amazing! this is truly a moment to remember!"

you and renjun both lurch at him and he laughs as you two tell him to go back to his mushrooms

and yet somehow, you three are all smiles when the day comes to an end because you and renjun have set up a date and jaemin is taking most of the credit for it

that summer, after you send the photo of the butterfly nestled perfectly on the tip of renjun's nose to your professor, is one that stays with you forever

you spend most of it with renjun, whenever he isn't busy with his butterflies, learning more and more about him

the little things like he doesn't like cilantro, he frequently doodles and draws in his free time, and he breaks everything he does down into a meticulous step by step process

you watch in fascination as he organizes his side dishes by the order he eats them, tabs the important dates in his planner, and pins your candid photos in a perfectly straight line above his desk

you know some of his friends call him a stickler, but it's really just another thing you grow to like about him

after all - your birthday gets a special, green tab in his planner. green means extra, extra, extra important

as for the butterfly garden .... you try a couple of times to go in. each time, renjun lists off a million reasons why butterflies are great and docile and not dangerous or scary

but every time you kind of apologize and say you can't do it - which renjun doesn't hark on you for

he just takes your hand and kisses the back of it, asks if you want to go visit jaemin or see the roses again

and as much as you love your friend, there's been too many instances of renjun leaning in to tuck your hair from your face and kiss you, all while jaemin pops up between you two like he's at the movies

and you two have to turn around and shoo him off as he insists he just wants to bear witness to the romance of the century

you and renjun sprawl across his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he finds comfort in counting the stripes on your shirt in silence and you mumble about how the summer is almost over and you won't be able to just be lazy like this with him anymore

the days of doing absolutely nothing

renjun props himself on his elbow and looks at you seriously

"spending time with someone you love isn't doing nothing. it's the act of growing closer."

you almost blurt out that that's the most romantic thing you've ever heard and you are going to cry

but instead, circle your hands around his neck and flip him over to be under you

poor renjun tells his directors he got bit by a species from the culicidae family (mosquito) to try and hide the blotch on his collarbone

and while the directors are impressed with renjun's knowledge of insects, jaemin just gives him the good old finger guns of 'yeah. sure'.

your photograph gets great marks from your professor, who replies to the image with praise about the lightening and angle

and the way you managed to capture both your boyfriend and the butterfly

you read the email to renjun over the phone and can almost hear the blush on him when you say boyfriend

you wonder if the future is going to be as sweet as this summer, can someone like you who is so terrified of the creatures renjun has structured his whole life around, really be the right choice for him

and when you ask renjun this, on the day before your classes officially start in the fall

he says that you don't have to be just like him for him to love you

it's the fact that you're so very you that he feels stronger about this relationship than he has about any other

and who cares that you don't like bugs. it just means that if you live together in the future he can be the one to get the spider under the cup and let it free while you lock yourself in the bathroom out of fear

you giggle at this, your heart beating against your ribs at the thought of a future so domestic with the boy smiling down at you

and the best thing is that future comes to fruition

when a decade later you're waiting for renjun outside of the botanical garden, where he strolls out with his co-worker jaemin whose holding a funny looking pot of yellow-topped mushrooms

"date night for the newlyweds?"

he wiggles his eyebrows the same way he did when you two were in college

you shoo him off with the hand that has your wedding ring on it and you tuck your hand through renjun's

"date night for you and some fungi, jaemin?"

he makes a face at your comment and bounds off in the direction of his car

you look up at renjun who chuckles to himself and pecks your lips in a greeting

"how are the butterflies this year?"

you ask as you two turn to walk down the street

"beautiful - do you think this might be the year you finally visit the garden?"

you scrunch up your nose and mumble that maybe, you'll have to see if after ten years your fear really hasn't gotten any better

he smiles and says you can take your time - ten, twenty, thirty

he'll be by your side when you decide it is time

you stop to look at him - seeing for a moment the flash of the boy with the butterfly on his nose - and smile

"and ill be by your side for anything and everyhing too."

he picks your hand up with his own - your matching rings gleam in the setting sun

"i know, that's why i married you."

#me and the website for people who butterfly watch became besties for this au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #renjun au #renjun #nct dream #nct dream au #member: renjun #sfw #butterflies/#insects/#nct dream scenarios #renjun x reader #nostalgia au

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 3 years

Text

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe) words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: im certified atsumu simp now

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie

| Chapter One |

Chapter Two

When you turn the corner to head towards the gym, Atsumu is already waiting for you. Determined to make this as convincing as possible, he slings an arm around your shoulders and you do a fantastic job of pressing yourself against his side, wrapping your own arm around his middle. You ignore the thought that he is comfortingly warm and very solid next you, reminding yourself you’re doing this for peaceful showers.

The two of you approach the gym and as if they were waiting for you, the entire team is standing at the entrance. A few of their brows raise, clearly surprised Atsumu wasn’t lying. Though some of them look suspicious, eyeing the two of you up and you prepare yourself for questions.

When you get within earshot, one of them shouts, “Wow Miya, we really thought you were lying!”

“Yeah! Why’ve you been hiding this beauty from us, huh?”

Before he can speak, for some reason you decide to take the blame, answering, “I was a little nervous to meet you all for a while.”

If Atsumu is surprised at all, he hides it, instead holding you a bit closer, his hand splaying across your opposite shoulder and gushing, “Cute, isn’t she?”

One of them who doesn’t seem convinced asks, “So how’d you meet?”

Now Atsumu takes the lead. “Funny story actually! We met in the bathroom! Her favorite shower stall is the one right next to mine, and we both like late night showers.”

You can’t help the frown that turns your lips downward. “He wouldn’t leave me alone,” you admit, making the members of the team smirk a little bit. “I swear, he’d wait around for me.”

“I did not!” He pouts, and it’s beginning to look like the more suspicious members are starting to believe you.

So, you go in for the kill. “Sure, you didn’t,” you smile, reaching up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek that you don’t give yourself time to think is okay or not. That seems to stun Atsumu, which is a feat in itself, but you don’t give anyone time to think anything of it as you give them a light wave goodbye and slip out of Atsumu’s arms. “It was nice meeting you all, but shouldn’t you get to practice? I’m sure I’ll be seeing you more often now!”

They give you parting waves, some of them just as stunned as Atsumu seems to be. On your way out, you risk a glance backwards and see them surround Atsumu, one of them pulling him into a headlock and ruffling his blonde locks while they all laugh and enter the gym. Atsumu grinning the widest of them all. You aren’t sure why, but you’re smiling too. Strangely glad to have helped him out.

His teammates encircle him, clapping him on the back and congratulating him, jokingly calling him a bastard for going and snagging a girl like that. He can’t help thinking the same. You shocked him with that kiss out of the blue, enough that he probably looked more lovestruck than shocked to his teammates. He’s impressed with your commitment to this charade.

Before he disappears into the gym, Atsumu takes one last look at you heading down the path. That went perfectly. And even though he knows he shouldn’t, he thinks about that small little kiss the entire practice.

The following days are absolute hell. You have to garner the courage to tell your roommate before word gets out because the rumor that Miya Atsumu finally has a girlfriend spreads like wildfire. She’s hurt at first, but like you suspect, she forgives you after you tell her how you and Atsumu met.

She seems to think the shower story is the most adorable thing she’s ever heard as her squeals of, “So cute!!” are loud enough you swear the entire floor must hear it.

Your daily routine changes, feeling like you have to peer around every corner in fear of the fan club waiting to ambush you. But after reluctantly disclosing that to Atsumu, you notice he makes a point to walk with you whenever he can. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and once when you actually do run in to the fan club, the glare he gives them is cold enough to ice over a lake and you’re pretty sure they won’t bother you even if Atsumu is absent.

Additionally, you and Atsumu start spending a lot more time together. You eat lunch with him almost every day, sometimes joined by a few members of the team, sometimes by your roommate, other times the two of you eat alone. And you’re beginning to find those are the days you like the most. The days when the two of you can just be without feeling the pressure to pretend.

“So does your brother still play volleyball?” You ask one day, curious why if they were such a powerhouse in high school why they didn’t continue that into college.

“I always liked volleyball just a little more than him.”

“He quit?”

Atsumu shrugs, shoving another mouthful of rice into his mouth. “He went to culinary school, always had a weird place in his heart for food.”

“And that was volleyball for you?”

He stares at you, unprepared for this barrage of questions. There was this strange familiarity growing between the two of you, and the more time he spends with you alone the more he feels like he knows you. It makes it easier to pretend for everyone else, but he’s starting to wonder if it’s making it harder for him to remember this is all pretend.

Before he can reply, you continue, “If you love volleyball so much, why aren’t you playing professionally then?”

His brows lift. “And how did yer pretty little ears hear about that?”

You roll your eyes, but definitely need to shove the feeling of embarrassment down to be able to admit, “My roommate told me.”

“Curious today, aren’tcha?”

You stiffen. “Well, I should probably know these things if we’re dating,” you mumble, returning to your food trying to hide your flustered expression.

Yet again, you surprise him with your commitment to this façade. The two of you could easily sit here in silence since it’s just the two of you, but since you’ve started eating lunch together both of you have started to get to know the other more. So, he just smiles at you and admits, “Yeah, I could, but I was kinda lookin’ forward to the whole college experience, ya know?” He rests his chin in his hand, wondering if he should continue. He hasn’t really told anyone his feelings about playing professionally, and how he feels that with every day he ignores the offers the less likely he’ll be able to make the transition the longer he waits. “I’m still thinkin’ about it. The offers are still there.”

You cock your head, and he refuses to look at you, feeling like you have a gift for seeing straight through him. “Is college that great?”

Now he laughs, and in an attempt to bring this conversation back to lighter waters he wraps an arm around you and smothers you against his chest teasing, “Yeah, otherwise I wouldn’ta met you!”

You roll your eyes and tell yourself that for the sake of the charade you let yourself sink into his embrace. When he releases you, you stick your tongue out at him. “I know you purposefully changed the subject, but I’ll let it slide. Consider yourself lucky.”

He puts his hands together in a fake prayer. “I’ll forever remember the kindness,” he says dramatically.

To which you scoff, “I highly doubt that.”

You study together when he’s available, but usually volleyball takes precedence over studying most nights. Sometimes he joins you in the library late at night, finding you in your favorite corner, plopping down beside you, blonde hair damp from the quick shower he took and distracting you from schoolwork with how practice went that day.

Already a few weeks in to your agreement, one night the two of you are in the library rather late, Atsumu’s practice ended late and he has a paper due in the morning that he’s desperate to finish. For the first hour, he’s chatty, unable to focus on what he needs to get done, despite constant reminders from you and promises that you’ll go get ice cream from the dining hall when he finishes.

The next hour, he seems to get in the zone, typing furiously away on his computer. Honestly, he isn’t sure if what he’s writing is even good but at this point, he doesn’t care, it just needs to get done.

But after his stint of concentration, you’re suddenly struck by the realization that he’s been silent beside you for a few minutes now. No sound of typing or conversation, and it goes on long enough that you become concerned. Looking over, you find him slumped over in his chair, head on his keyboard, fast asleep.

You fight the urge to laugh at him. Taking only a few selfish moments to marvel over his face, his usual smirking expression replaced by his eyes softly closed and his mouth slightly open. He sighs a deep breath before subconsciously stretching his arms out across the table and you get a nice view of his biceps flexing beneath his black shirt.

It’s then you become aware that you’ve been staring at him way too long and shake him awake.

His eyes flutter open, and upon seeing you, that once infuriating smirk he likes to wear rises to his lips. “Who woulda thought I’d be wakin’ up to a pretty girl lookin’ at me like that,” he drawls, knowing exactly how to fluster you.

You shake your head, laughing and packing up your things. “Come on big baby, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, picking his head up and promptly stuffing his things away in his bag. You decide to ignore what his soft, sleepy voice is doing to your heart rate and instead focus on how he’s putting his things away. That backfires on you, as you start thinking about how long and deft his fingers are and you have to physically look away from him to stop your mind going in that direction.

The two of you leave the library, walking quietly back to your dorm building, you aren’t expecting his hand to slip into yours; those long fingers you were just trying to get out of your head intertwining with yours. You look up at him confusedly and without looking at you, he brushes it off, “Just in case.”

You press your lips into a firm line, replying, “Right.”

He won’t dare admit he did that subconsciously. He just reached out for your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, only realizing his mistake from the confused expression you gave him. He internalizes his sigh of relief that he can pass it off as keeping up your fake relationship and you seem none the wiser.

When you make it up to your floor, at the point in the hallway where you need to split ways, despite nobody being around that you need to fake for, you press a light kiss to his cheek and say, “Goodnight Atsumu.”

You’re gone before he can get a reply in.

You start coming to his games more often, dragging your roommate along (though she doesn’t mind one bit) and do your best to ignore just how good he looks playing volleyball. It doesn’t help that your roommate keeps commenting things like, “god you are so lucky,” and “just look at him!”

You are looking at him. And it pisses you off that she’s right. He’s annoyingly god-like, and you find yourself staring at his biceps and thighs a lot more than is necessary. Your heart fluttering traitorously whenever he grins when he makes a successful play. Even when he raises his fist to silence the crowd when he serves, which before you thought was utterly ridiculous—you now find yourself holding your breath as goosebumps spread across your skin.

He denies to himself just how much he loves seeing you in the stands. Unable to stop the feeling that swells in his chest with the way you look at him. With the fan club, he knows all they see is the surface. He’s cocky enough to know he’s good-looking (and if he didn’t think so, the fan club certainly feels otherwise). But with you—you look like you want to devour him. He doesn’t know if you are aware of it or not, but you watch him with predatory intent in a way he can’t explain that makes the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

At some point, he has to admit it. He fucking loves it.

One particularly memorable game, he swears you never take your eyes off him. And he feels like he’s at the top of his game, like nothing can go wrong for him. He’s so full of adrenaline and excitement afterwards that when he finds you in the hallway, he sweeps you up into an enormous hug. Your laughter filling the air and god—he loves your laugh; he could listen to it forever.

You don’t even care how sweaty he is or really if anyone is watching. Your instinct is to wrap your arms around him and squeeze him back, your ego inflating from the glares you can feel boring into your back from the fan club. And it’s easy—far too easy to forget that all of this is fake.

Especially when he pulls away only to plant a kiss right on your mouth, his body too full of adrenaline to truly realize what he’s doing.

And instead of pushing him away, you selfishly pull him closer, fingers laced behind his neck and body slotting against him so perfectly he has to resist the urge to groan. He cradles your head, drawing out the kiss for as long as he can consider appropriate, every fiber of his being screaming at him to just confess to you.

Instead, he lets you go, both of you chalking it up to the adrenaline and the charade. Both secretly knowing it was more than that to both of you.

And you don’t speak of it again, continuing with your sham relationship like nothing has changed.

But a lot of things have changed. It’s been almost 2 months since this started, well past the time needed to convince his teammates this is real. Some part of him refuses to bring it up, unwilling to let you go and wanting to drag this on for as long as possible.

Despite knowing that this will all have to come to an end eventually.

“You gotta be there!” He pouts, doing a wonderful job of obscuring your view of the notebook on the table in front of you. “There’s no way my girlfriend would miss it!”

You groan, head resting on the chair behind you. Atsumu has been trying to convince you for the better part of the hour to come to the party the volleyball team is throwing this weekend. No matter how many times you’ve expressed your disinterest, he’s relentless.

He wiggles his brows. “I’ll throw in an invitation for your roommate too,” he says, knowing full well your roommate will be a pain in your side if she finds out you got invited to this party and refrained from taking her with.

Now you sigh, annoyed that he knows you well enough to sweeten the deal like that. And it isn’t the party that is deterring you, it’s a certain blonde-haired volleyball setter that you’ve been getting far too close to lately that’s making you hesitate. Something about the atmosphere of a party and a little alcohol in both of your systems makes you uneasy. And not in a bad way.

“You promise not to ditch me?” You pout, faking the reason you don’t want to attend.

He crosses over his heart. “I swear it. And besides, I’d be crazy to let ya wander around by yerself.” He gives you a quick wink, then a kiss to your cheek and he’s off to practice, shouting over his shoulder that the party starts at nine.

Your roommate is over the moon at the invitation, insisting you can’t possibly show up right at nine. So, you and she show up fashionably late around ten. Within a few moments, Atsumu finds you and gathers you up into his arms, whispering in your ear, “You’re late, where ya been?”

You smirk. “Roommate insisted on being fashionably late.”

He just chuckles, low in his throat and directly beside your ear—a sound that makes your toes involuntarily curl in your shoes. God, if you’re already curling your toes at the sound of just his voice you’re in for a long night. After releasing you, he easily greets your roommate and takes the two of you to the kitchen where cans of various alcohols are waiting.

You swear your roommate is going to combust with joy, taking a can for herself then happily heading off towards the dance floor. You’re glad she’s pretty independent as you can already feel you’re going to be glued to Atsumu’s side the entire night. You eye the drinks, sigh, and take one for yourself. If this night’s going to be long, might as well enjoy it.

He just watches you, amused, and unable to stop himself from thinking about how good you fucking look tonight. He wanted you to be here not to keep up the act of your relationship but because he actually wants to spend time with you. Lately, it’s the highlight of most of his days, and sue him if he wants to have a little fun.

Setting an arm on your shoulder, he first parades you around the party, letting everyone see just who he’s ‘dating’ and feeling his ego boost from the looks of jealousy he garners from a few people. The teammates who have eaten lunch with you a few times are happy to see you, indulging you in a bit of chit chat and helping loosen you up.

You might’ve been embarrassed to be on Atsumu’s arm had it not felt so damn great to be met with looks of jealousy from guys and girls alike, and it was doing wonders for your self-confidence. Enough that you tap him on the arm and ask to be taken back to the kitchen for another drink. He graciously obliges you, and once both of you have another can in hand, he finds somewhere for you two to sit.

It doesn’t even occur to you how easy it is to curl up beside him, his arm around you on the back of the couch, hand resting on your opposite shoulder while the two of you observe the party in full swing.

“You guys really know how to throw a party,” you comment, nodding to the room that was completely cleared out to make room for a dance floor.

“What’s that?” He teases. “I thought you didn’t want to come!”

Poking him in the side and refusing to look up at him, you admit, “I changed my mind.”

You know you’ve dug yourself a nice little hole when he continues, “Are my ears deceiving me? Are you admitting you were wrong?”

“Spare me,” you beg, a grin on your lips nonetheless. It’s then you spot your roommate out on the dance floor, her eyes connecting with yours long enough that she starts beckoning you towards her. “Oh god,” you groan.

She doesn’t stop though, instead abandoning the dance floor and approaching you and Atsumu. “Excuse me sir, but I’m gunna have to steal her for a dance or two.”

Subconsciously you cling to Atsumu, jerking your eyes up to him as he smiles easily saying, “Of course.” Taking your arm, she pulls you up from the couch and out of Atsumu’s arms, dragging you towards the dance floor while you look back at him with a pleading expression. He only waves idly back at you, that infuriating smirk splaying across his lips.

Worming her way into the throng of bodies, she puts her hands on your hips forcing you to sway them along to the music, laughing and encouraging you to ‘let go!!’. Eventually, there’s no resisting the thumping music or the movement of bodies around you, and soon your laughter is mixing with hers as the two of you dance ridiculously with one another.

Atsumu watches from the couch, utterly entranced at your change in behavior. He’s unable to look at anyone else but you, like the rest of the party falls away and its just you on that dancefloor swaying your hips under the flashing lights. He hardly knows what to do with himself as you laugh alongside your roommate, unaware he’s watching you.

At some point, you remember the boy you came here for, and fight your way to the edge of the crowd to catch sight of him. He’s where you left him, sitting on a couch a room away, an ankle crossed over his knee, still drinking his beer and looking unbothered by your absence. You look at him a moment, sitting there in his fitted black tee and dark jeans, so casually good-looking it isn’t fair.

His dark eyes meet yours and there’s something in them that sends goosebumps prickling across your skin. You’re barely even tipsy but there must be something stirring your boldness, otherwise you would have never lifted a hand and beckoned him towards you.

He’s pinned to his seat for a moment when you motion him to join you on the dancefloor. He has an uncanny suspicion that something is going to happen out there, under the safety of the pulsing lights and hidden by the mass of bodies. But some part of him wants that, whispering that it’s all he wants. So, he rises, setting his can on a nearby table and strides out to meet you.

A fire lights in your stomach as he stops in front of you, and now that he’s here you are quite sure what to do with yourself. “You looked bored,” you lie.

“Well, my date ditched me,” he remarks. “But I like her, so I’ll let it slide.”

Your answering smile is enough to send him through the roof. And soon, you’re engulfed by the surging crowd, getting sucked into the middle of the floor, a sense of reality slipping out from beneath the two of you. His hands at your waist, your body pressed up against his, his forehead resting on yours—he’s desperate to close the gap between the two of you. Dying to kiss you, to feel your lips mold to his, fingers lacing in his hair—he wonders what kind of sounds he could elicit from you, sounds just for him, sounds that would get lost in the thumping beat.

His better sense tells him to resist. Knowing that even though you’ve kissed before, this one would be different. It’s just the two of you, free from the pressure of pretending, he wouldn’t be able to pass it off as an act. And even if he could, he isn’t sure he wants to.

All the while, you’re watching him, wondering if he’s going to take the leap. Part of you urging him to. Pathetically wanting him to smother you in his arms and the two of you can just ignore it all tomorrow. It’s seemingly what you do best.

He doesn’t though, allowing him to just enjoy this moment—your proximity, warm breath mingling with his, arms resting on his broad shoulders as the crowd undulates around you. To him, there’s nothing else around, just you and your body fitting perfectly to his, back curved to press closer to him—he’s pitifully so lost in the way you’re moving those hips making him move along with you.

He’s grateful that if you notice him struggling to keep his composure, you don’t say anything. But when he glances at your face, you’re blissfully unaware of his plight, eyes closed murmuring along to the music and relishing the moment in your own way. Your thoughts dominated by how warm he is, how solid he feels, how his hands are resting on your back.

And the two of you stay like that, until you’re broken from your reverie by one of his teammates whistling loudly at the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively that Atsumu just huffs a breath out at.

“I think I need another drink,” you say, pulling away from him.

His arms feel empty now, the clamor of the party destroying the quiet and intimate bubble the two of you had created. But instead of doing anything about it, he just gives you a winning smile—one he feels is half-assed, replying, “Ditto.”

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenario #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #miya atsumu reader insert #haikyuu

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

Text

The Mercer Legacy - Part 1

Pairings: Reggie x Luke x Reader, Willex

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: none?

a/n: welcome to the first part of my social media JATP au!! Im really excited about this series and I hope you like it!! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist TML Masterlist

___

“Beep beep! Coming through!” You heard somebody call from down the sidewalk.

You stepped to the side, lifting your dress so that the white fabric didn’t touch the grass but Alex wasn’t as lucky. Your best friend apparently hadn’t heard the warning and before any of you knew what had happened, Alex and the skateboarder were both sprawled on the ground.

“Oh, you dinged my board!” The skateboarder whined as he stood and you saw Alex scowl.

“I dinged your board? Dude, you ran me over! You’re lucky I didn’t-“ Alex stopped abruptly and you smirked, recognizing the expression on your best friend’s face as he actually looked at the boy who had run into him.

You knew that look, that was Alex’s gay panic look. However, before Alex could regain control of his brain long enough to say something his mom interrupted, calling out from the car.

“Alexander, Y/N, let’s get a move on! We don’t want to be late!”

The skateboarder nodded apologetically to Alex before riding off, leaving Alex to stare longingly after him. When he finally turned back he was met with a teasing grin from you.

“Don’t say a word,” he grit out, glaring at you and you laughed.

“Whatever you say, lover boy.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

___

The event was about as stuffy as you’d imagined it would be. After they’d lined you all up and announced you to the attendees, the master of ceremonies turned it over to the orchestra to play for the rest of the evening.

“How much longer do we have to be here?” You huffed, plopping down very un-ladylike into the chair next to your best friend.

“At least two more hours, probably longer,” Alex responded dejectedly and you sighed, taking a sip of your fruit punch as you surveyed the room.

Most of the attendees, both debutantes and parents, were slow-dancing to whatever piece the orchestra played. You would be perfectly content if you never made it onto the dance floor though you knew it was unlikely considering Mrs. Mercer’s overbearing and controlling nature. She’d be damned if her son didn’t dance to at least one song which meant you’d be dancing with him.

“Y’know, whoever chose fruit punch as a beverage for this event is an idiot,” you declared, holding your cup up to eye level as you stared into the red liquid. “It would be so easy to spill this all over my pristine white dress. Maybe I should. We’d probably get to leave and…” You trailed off.

Though distorted and colorized due to the liquid in your cup, you thought you recognized one of the young servers. Lowering your glass slowly as to not spill your drink (sure you’d threatened to but really this was a nice dress and you didn’t want to ruin it) you peered more clearly across the room at the boy.

“Hey isn’t that your boyfriend?” You asked Alex, grinning teasingly at him.

It was hard to be certain when the guy had traded his helmet for a neat bun at the base of his neck and his street clothes for a tuxedo shirt and black slacks but you were pretty sure that was the same boy who had run Alex over with his skateboard.

“What?” Alex hissed, looking around frantically and you weren’t sure if he was checking to make sure no one had overheard (no one had, you’d checked before you’d said anything) or looking for the boy in question.

“Your skater boy,” you explained. “Isn’t that him over there with the tray of hor d’œuvres?”

“Oh my god.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go introduce yourself, get his number!”

“I can’t just go over there,” Alex exclaimed, parroting your words back at you. “He’s working!”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at his reluctance.

“Fine. Then I’m hungry let’s go get a snack,” you stood, dragging him out of his chair with you.

You looped your arm through his, not allowing him to get away as you pulled him across the room. You stopped in front of the skater boy, pretending to be occupied with selecting an hor d’oeurve from his tray. You felt Alex freeze up next to you and you nudged him with your elbow.

“Alright well, Alex, I’m going to go sit over there,” you gestured over to a table nearby, “and let you guys talk.”

You slipped your arm from Alex’s, winking no-so-discretely at him as you moved away.

“I hate you,” you heard him hiss in your direction but you just smiled cheekily in response.

“So, Alex huh?” You heard the skater boy ask before you were out of earshot and you smirked.

You sat down at a nearby table alone, keeping an eye on Alex in case you needed to rescue him. However, once you saw him relax you let your gaze wander. Your new seat afforded you a view of the orchestra and you found your gaze drifting off towards the musicians. You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at one particular musician until the dark-haired cellist winked at you.

You felt heat immediately rise to your cheeks and you quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed at being caught by the cute musician. Of course, your gaze then fell to a violinist across the orchestra setup. To your surprise he was already staring at you, a cocky smirk on his face as he continued to play, completely disregarding the sheet music and conductor in front of him.

He was undeniably attractive, though in a different way than the other musician who had caught your eye. Still, you had the undeniable urge to wipe the smirk off his face and make him as flustered as you were so you did what the cellist had just done to you moments before. You winked. However, it didn’t seem to phase him very much, the flash of surprise crossing his face quickly replaced with a smug grin and you groaned internally. Not wanting to drop your facade and surrender, you did your best to smile back demurely before you looked away, eyes going back to where Alex and his skater boy had been standing.

You couldn’t help your surprise when you discovered that they were no longer standing where you’d left them. Your eyes began to flit frantically around the ballroom, searching for the familiar frame of your best friend but you couldn’t find him. That’s when you noticed that the skater boy was nowhere to be found either and you smirked to yourself, realizing that they must have snuck off somewhere.

Yeah, Alex definitely owed you.

You had just pulled your phone out to text him as much when the orchestra stopped playing. The sudden absence of sound shocked you and you looked up to see the MC stepping up to the microphone as the musicians began filing out. The MC explained that the orchestra was taking a brief break and you tuned out the rest of his announcement, your eyes being once again drawn to the brunet violinist. He tilted his head towards the stage door, silently inviting you to join him backstage and you quirked a brow in surprise. He winked in response, smiling cheekily before he turned to follow the rest of the orchestra off the stage.

You sent a quick text to Alex in case he came back before you snuck out the back, doing your best to blend in with the musicians. You were certain you were unsuccessful given your white gown and their concert blacks but nobody stopped you so you didn’t give it much thought.

It took you a moment to locate the violinist and you were surprised to find him with the dark-hair cellist who had winked at you. The violinist was sitting backward in his chair, elbows resting on the back while the cellist sat crisscrossed on another. They both looked up at you as you made your way towards them, each smiling at you, though the violinist’s was more of a smirk.

“Pull up a chair, mystery girl,” the violinist invited gesturing to a nearby black plastic chair when you approached.

“Mystery girl?” You quirked a brow quizzically as you slung the chair around to face them. You sat down gingerly, careful of your gown before pulling off your white gloves, gratefully to get rid of the fabric now that you were away from the rest of the attendees.

“Well we don’t know your name,” the violinist explained, studying you intently as if he was trying to figure out how you fit into this whole event.

“Well I don’t know yours either,” you tossed back with a smirk of your own as you crossed your legs and leaned back in your seat.

“Oh, well, I’m Luke,” the violinist introduced before gesturing to the cellist, “and this is...”

“Reggie!” The cellist chimed in, “Can we know your name now?”

“Y/N,” you answered simply with a smile. However, that smile turned into narrowed eyes and a look of suspicion as you watched the two boys exchange looks.

“You’re Alex’s y/n,” Reggie spoke aloud and you did a double-take.

“I’m who’s y/n?” You spluttered in disbelief.

“You are Alex’s best friend right? Alex Mercer?” Luke asked, leaning forward and causing his chair to tilt onto two legs.

“I- yeah, but how do you know that?”

“We’re in a band together! I play the bass and Lu…” Reggie trailed off, his voice going from excited to confused as he watched your expressions shift. “You don’t know about the band.”

“No, I do not,” you grit out, mind starting to wonder what else Alex had left out. Your best friend seemed to be living a secret life. “I’m gonna fight him.”

You pushed out of your seat, ready to hunt your best friend down and force him to tell you everything.

“No, wait!” Luke reached out a hand to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Why do that when we could mess with him?”

You turned, giving him a thoughtful look. “Go on.”

“Well, obviously he kept us apart for a reason, imagine how freaked out he’ll be if he finds out we already know each other!”

“I like the way you think,” you smirked, sitting back down in your chair and pulling out your phone. “Okay now smile.”

You took a couple pictures of the two boys, wanting some options to post on Instagram later.

“Oh wait! We need some of you!” Reggie exclaimed, having caught on to your plan without you having to verbalize it.

You nodded in agreement as he pulled out his phone. You did a couple quick poses before dissolving into laughter, unable to take yourself seriously. The three of you sat that way for a few more minutes, getting to know each other and plotting your revenge on Alex.

Before you knew it the orchestra’s break time was up and the musicians began to file back onto the stage, leaving you to sneak back into the ballroom. Alex was waiting by the side door with a quizzical face.

“What were you doing back there?” He asked and you had to fight to keep the smirk off your face.

“Just visiting some friends.”

Part 2

___

TML Taglist: @bright-molina @bright-patterson

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever

#jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms fic #jatp au #willex #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #reggie x luke x reader #ruke x reader #peterpatter x reader #peterpatter #ruke #reggie x reader #luke x reader #julie and the phantoms

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sunlit-squid · 3 years

Note

(simping softness prompts) could i get some “hey, everything's gonna be fine. stay where you are, i'm on my way” or “holy crap, i thought you were dead! never do that to me again!” if you are feeling so inclined? sorry im just in love w ur writing

For those who don't know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I'll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

i'm gonna do "hey, everything's gonna be fine ...", but don't you worry. i will also be doing "holy crap ..." at some point, since someone else requested it.

anyway, thanks for the prompt, and for the kind words! while we're here, i should also say that @wowthwtslame is doing a similar ficlet challenge. their writing is wonderful, so definitely check them out!

also tagging @azumeowth, who requested the same prompt!

ficlet under the cut. thanks again!

The call came in -- loudly -- at around 2 in the morning.

When Squidward rolled over to check his shell phone, the dull blue screen read, simply, “SpongeBrat”, accompanied by a vomit emoji. Sighing, the octopus put his phone on silent and went back to bed. Surely whatever it was the sponge wanted to blabber about could wait until tomorrow. After a decent night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep was hard to come by. Despite having switched his phone to silent, the device’s small blue screen continued to light up repeatedly, like a small, pathetic rave. Every few seconds, the small blue light cast peculiar shadows on the walls of Squidward’s bedroom. Eventually, after thirty minutes of tossing and turning, the cephalopod grabbed his phone to shove it inside the nightstand -- when he caught a glimpse of the screen itself.

43 missed calls. 37 unread text messages. All from “SpongeBrat” Squarepants.

The phone rang again. This time, Squidward picked up.

“Spongebob, do you have any idea what time it is?” snapped Squidward, despite the uncomfortable, worried feeling growing in his stomach. “No? Well, I’ll tell you -- it is two-forty-seven --”

“I-I know, Squidward,” came a small, shaking Spongebob-voice. “I just -- I didn’t know what to do.”

Squidward paused. Well, that was … not the regular Spongebob volume. Or tone. Or pitch.

“Squ -- Squidward?” came the sponge’s soft, sad voice once more. The frycook’s voice was barely audible. There was some sort of loud, constant whooshing happening on the other end, not to mention a weird crackling noise, which made it very difficult to hear. Squidward sighed, wiping a tentacle across his eyes.

“I’m here,” said Squidward. “What’s this about, Spongebob?”

Silence. Then, crying -- and not Spongebob’s usual loud, obnoxious crying. This crying was quiet and gentle, barely decipherable against the loud whooshing on the other end of the line. Squidward sat up then, pressing the phone close to his ear.

“Sponge,” said Squidward, panic rising in his chest. “Sponge, what’s wrong?”

Spongebob sobbed something indiscernible. Then, he stammered, “I’m -- I’m hurt, Squidward. I’m hurt, and … I’m lost.”

Something funny exploded in Squidward’s chest. Before he knew it, the octopus was out of bed, scrambling for his jacket and keys. Gripping his shell phone tight, Squidward asked, “Where are you? What’s going on, Spongebob?”

On the other end of the line, Spongebob snuffled. “I got on the wrong bus,” he explained, in a shaky, uneven voice. “I -- I’m in a place called ‘Deviltown’ now, and the current is so strong, and the signal is pretty bad --” There was that distorted, crackling sound again -- followed by a few more broken whimpers.

Squidward sighed, feeling his hearts crack with every little sob. “Hey, everything’s going to be fine,” he said, stepping out the door and into the cool Bikini Bottom night. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

-0-

Deviltown, it turned out, was several hours away from Bikini Bottom. Squidward’s shell phone indicated the drive not only went straight, but downward -- which was certainly a problem. Oceanic towns grew more and more dangerous the deeper you went, and Deviltown was apparently thousands of nautical leagues under the sea. Wherever Spongebob was, even the sun couldn’t reach him.

Undeterred, Squidward set off on his journey. His boat was constantly maintained, so the cephalopod was certain it could handle the perilous road ahead.

For the first hour or so, the drive was uneventful -- peaceful, even. The streets were smooth and well taken care of, which was good considering the massive tax hike this past year. Squidward even put on some Kelpy G, which certainly helped to soothe his nerves.

Later on, however, the drive got worse. The once well-maintained roads gave way to rickety rocks and slippery sand, with only a few sporadic road signs to get by. Moonlight became sparse, and by the time Squidward reached a vertical road, he had his brights all the way up -- and was still struggling to see.

A nearby rickety sign read “Deviltown, 10 nautical miles downward.” Peering down into the deep abyss, Squidward gulped. Despite his headlights, he still couldn’t see a thing -- just a vast expanse of open blackness.

A tight feeling wound itself around Squidward’s chest. He thought about backing up, turning around, and going straight home. This was ridiculous. Why was he out here, in the wee hours of the morning, chasing after SpongeBrat Squarepants, of all people? The boy had other friends. Certainly one of them would be willing to retrieve him.

Squidward’s tentacle hovered just over the gear stick. That’s when he saw it: in his passenger seat lay Spongebob’s wrinkled little jacket. The sponge must have left it behind the other day, when Squidward (begrudgingly) drove them both home from work.

Squidward’s chest felt hollow, suddenly. He thought of how many times he’d seen Spongebob in that exact jacket over the years.

He thought of never seeing him in that jacket ever again.

Groaning, the octopus switched gears from “Drive” to “Drive, But Downward”, and puttered his way into the deep and black abyss.

-0-

The journey into the inky black was, bar none, one of the creepiest things Squidward had ever experienced. He told himself, repeatedly, that if he just stared straight ahead and focused on the task at hand, then everything would be fine. Still, hearing creepy noises in the darkness (and being unable to see where they came from) was severely unsettling.

After what felt like forever, the vertical road became horizontal once again, and Squidward finally drove into Deviltown. Luckily, the town had the decency to set up some lamp posts, possibly for out-of-towners like Squidward who were unused to the darkness. Still, the lamp posts were few and far between, and there was nobody out and about, giving Deviltown a fittingly creepy vibe nonetheless.

Tense, cold, and worried, Squidward drove further into town, squinting for Spongebob’s bright yellow body. Surely the boy couldn’t be that hard to spot -- he was likely the only vibrant thing down here. Surely --

Oh. Oh, no.

Squidward brought his boat careening to a stop. Clambering out of it, the octopus made his way over to a rickety wooden bus stop, with a flickering lamp post just overhead. On a bench nearby was none other than Spongebob Squarepants: cold, alone, and unconscious. For a moment, a horrible thought passed through Squidward’s head -- is he dead? -- before he saw the sponge’s chest rise and fall, taking slow and steady breaths.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Squidward looked up and down the street. No one in sight.

Gently, the octopus leaned down and shook Spongebob lightly. “Hey,” said Squidward, awkwardly. “What are you doing asleep all the way out here? We have work tomorrow, you know.”

Spongebob stirred. In the dim light, Squidward realized the sponge really was hurt -- his usually spiffy shirt and tie were ripped straight down the middle. Beyond the fabric, the sponge’s chest was badly torn up, too, and for some reason, he had not regenerated yet.

Squidward swallowed. “Spongebob?”

The sponge stirred once more. This time, his eyes opened -- and he smiled, weakly. “Squidward,” he slurred, happily. He tried to laugh, then winced, clutching at his stomach and chest. “Squidward, it’s you … you came … ”

“Of course I came,” muttered Squidward, before he could stop himself. “I -- you … ugh, I hate you.”

Scooping up Spongebob, Squidward gently carried him over to the boat, positioning him carefully in the passenger’s seat. The sponge fussed a little about being buckled in, but otherwise, seemed too out of it to complain properly. Taking a deep breath, Squidward got back behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Heheh,” chuckled Spongebob as the boat roared to life. “Vroom-vroom.”

Squidward rolled his eyes and began turning the boat around, back towards Bikini Bottom. “We’re going home now,” he said, with a sigh. “You need to see a doctor for … whatever it was that happened to you.”

Spongebob simply nodded, then fell to his side, leaning all of his body weight on Squidward as he drove. The octopus felt warmth rising to his cheeks, and for once felt grateful for the murky blackness of the ocean void.

Spongebob was mumbling something.

“What is it?” said Squidward. “Are you okay?”

“I …uh … love you, Squidward,” said Spongebob, in a very loopy voice. “I love your big nose, and your paintings, and I wanna … get married, someday. Okay? Can we get married, someday?”

Squidward’s entire face was bright red now. It took everything in him not to just veer in a random direction and crash the entire damn boat. Taking a deep breath, the octopus collected himself. Spongebob was just severely injured, and loopy as a result. He didn’t really mean any of this.

Squidward decided to play along. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we can get married.”

“Mm,” said Spongebob, chuckling softly. “Can I -- can I wear a dress?”

“Sure,” said Squidward. “Whatever you want.”

“And you’ll … and you’ll kiss me?”

“Mhm,” mumbled Squidward.

“And I can … listen to you play the clarinet around the house … and, and paint with you … and watch your soaps with … you … ”

Squidward looked over. The sponge had fallen asleep, and was snoring loudly. Which was … good. Very good. Excellent, even. That way, they couldn’t talk about marriage or love or any of that absolute nonsense. Now they could just drive forward in sweet silence.

Still, Squidward found himself dwelling over Spongebob’s words far more than he would have liked.

About an hour into the drive home, the octopus glanced over at the sponge, still fast asleep beside him. Fixing his gaze forward, Squidward took a deep breath, clutching the steering wheel in a tight death-grip.

“Spongebob, I …,” Squidward began, shakily. “I love you. I love you, I love you.”

Squidward found that once he started saying it, he couldn’t stop. The words felt good in his mouth, like a massive weight had finally been lifted off his chest.

“I love everything about you,” said Squidward, his three hearts exploding inside his chest. “Your annoying laugh, your stupid singing, all of it. I want to read with you, and garden with you.”

Squidward hesitated, his words floating out into the open water.

“I love you,” said Squidward, one last time. “And I … I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe I’m a coward. I’m sorry.”

Squidward looked over. Spongebob was still fast asleep, snoring away against his arm -- but the smallest of smiles had appeared on his face.

-0-

Squidward woke up in the hospital, seated in a chair next to Spongebob’s hospital bed. The poriferan was wide awake, watching an episode of Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy on the hospital television. Of course.

The sponge turned. “Squidward!” he exclaimed, his voice loud and back to normal. “You’re awake!”

“Unfortunately,” muttered the octopus. “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” chirped Spongebob. “Better than ever, actually -- but the doc says I should stick around for a little while, just in case.”

Squidward glanced down. Sure enough, Spongebob’s chest had almost fully regenerated. Thank Neptune. When they arrived at the Bikini Bottom General Hospital early that morning, Spongebob was still in rough shape. The doctor said Spongebob most likely had a run-in with a deep-sea predator, and the attack was too quick and too constant for the poriferan to regenerate. Not to mention there were several lacerations to his vital organs.

Still, sponges were pretty sturdy folk -- and all Spongebob really needed was a long rest in a controlled environment.

Squidward breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Great,” he said, awkwardly. “I, uh. Pay attention next time you get on the bus, alright? So I don’t have to come running after you.”

Spongebob laughed. “Okey-doke.”

The two then sat together in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. All the while, Squidward wondered if perhaps his stupid, impulsive, not-really-a-love-confession-confession had actually gotten through to Spongebob. His hearts twisted up at just the thought.

“Hey, Squidward?”

The octopus looked up, and was very surprised to find splotches of red decorating the sponge’s cheeks.

“What?” said Squidward.

“My, uh, sea flowers have been dying lately,” said the sponge, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Maybe you could come by and we could share some gardening tips?”

A brilliant red blush planted itself on Squidward’s face. Then, he cleared his throat, and folded his arms across his chest. “Only if we get to watch a soap afterwards.”

Spongebob grinned. “Deal.”

Squidward found himself grinning, too, despite himself. “Deal.”

References:

“Deviltown” is loosely based off of the Devil Sea, near the Japanese coast.

I will likely be compiling these ficlets into one combined fic on ao3. I originally wasn't going to, but I definitely didn't expect so many requests. So keep an eye out for that, at some point.

#squidbob #spongebob squarepants #squidward tentacles #spongebob #squidward #spongeward #my fics #ask #asks #sunlit-squid

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