#source: hell's cafeteria

[mons1erprom]

Vera, holding two pieces of bread on Polly's face idiot sandwich style: What are you? Polly: A snack. Vera: No. Try again.

#monster prom #monster prom incorrect quotes #vera #vera oberlin #polly #polly geist #source: hell's cafeteria #slightly modified

[loveinhawkins]

When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it all together, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

#back with the unexpected kindness in high school agenda #pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[luvxkdrama]

— reunion

pairing : chishiya x reader

warnings : mentions of guns, wounds, blood and cursing

word count : 1.8k

summary : After successfully finishing the last game, you run to reach Chishiya for the last time but before you can, you return to the real world with zero memories of what happened

a/n : season 2 spoilers!

—

Horrifying screams echoed trough the once empty and peaceful city of Tokyo. There was no voice announcing a new game, so the sudden shooting quickly caused a massive chaos. Everyone ran in different directions, panic taking over the residents.

Chishiya seemed unbothered as he roamed around the street as if nothing was going on. You groaned at his behaviour and after successfully dodging a few bullets, you wrapped your hand around the man’s arm and quickly dragged him behind a car, joining the rest of the group.

He raised one of his eyebrows when he noticed your hand still holding onto him. You scoffed at his smirk and quickly pushed his arm away, making him smile in the back of his mind.

“We’re pinned down here!” Kuina exclaimed.

“If we step out, he’ll get us!” Usagi answered when suddenly a green car stopped in front of you.

Before you could say anything, Tatta screamed to quickly get in the car in order to run away from the King of Spades who turned out to be the source of the chaos.

You looked at Chishiya and he unconsciously pushed you towards the car, for you get in first. The rest of the group joined you in the backseats but when it was Chishiya’s turn, he noticed a bomb on the ground.

“That’s bad. Get going!” He exclaimed and ran to hide behind a car while Tatta drove away.

“Chishiya!” You and Kuina both screamed, not wanting to leave him behind but at the same time, having no other choice.

In the back of your head, you knew Chishiya would be fine by himself, however the constant thought of something going wrong didn’t let you rest.

After a few games where you brushed against death, you finally met Arisu and Usagi again after losing contact with each other.

“What’s going on!?” You frowned when you saw Niragi, Arisu and Chishiya holding a gun while Usagi looked as much confused as you were.

“Look who we have here, our precious Y/N who always seems to nuzzle in other people businesses’. Let me make a favour for everyone gathered here and get rid of you.” He smirked and your body froze.

Not being able to do anything, you closed your eyes as Niragi fired his gun. You breathed heavily but frowned at the lack of impact. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes and noticed Chishiya in front of you, protecting your form behind his body.

“Chishiya!” You screamed once he collapsed on the floor. “Why the hell would you do that!?” You put pressure on his wound, only now noticing the second wound on his side.

You physically felt your heart shatter at the sight of his blood, slowly dripping down his body. While Arisu was busy listening to Niragi, you softly caressed Chishiya’s hair, something you’ve always wanted to do but never got the courage to.

“I wanted to do something out of my character.” He chuckled, looking up at you. “Besides, if it’s for you I’m dying for, it will be a quite nice death. Oh god, that sounded cheesy.” He cringed at himself, not taking his condition seriously.

“Don’t even dare mentioning you dying, we’ll get out of here soon and you will survive, alright?” You were trying to act though, but the tear rolling down your cheek and your shaky voice showed how you really felt at the moment.

“Of course, and we’ll open that cafeteria you never shut up about.” He laughed and you playfully nudged his arm.

You helped Chishiya lean his back against a random car and put his hand between yours. Although he wasn’t fond of physical touch, he didn’t seem to mind yours.

“We will, I promise.” You gulped, unsure of your action, but decided to slowly lean in and as you saw the corners of his lips tug upwards, you decided to go for it.

As your lips were about to touch his, Arisu exclaimed that the King of Spades was nearby and you had to leave immediately. Chishiya, as much as he wanted you to stay by his side, gently pushed you back and ordered you to run.

“I’m staying here with you, I won’t leave you alone.” You protested, sitting down next to him.

“You promised me to finish the game, come back when everything will be over. As you can see, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll wait for you.” He whispered and sent you a soft smile.

Before you could answer, Usagi grabbed your arm and you went to hide.

After hours of what felt like forever, the laser went through Mira’s head and you looked back at your two teammates, not believing the nightmare was actually over.

“Go Y/N, he’s waiting for you.” Usagi smiled at you, indicating you to join Chishiya.

You thanked them both for everything and left the roof, running down the stairs. You stopped mid-way as the characteristic female voice echoed through Tokyo, asking the remaining players if they wished to stay in this world. Without a second doubt, you declined the offer.

Although the building wasn’t far away from the Main Street, you felt as if you were running in slow motion. You started to get dizzy but you persisted in your moves and felt your heart skip a beat when your eyes finally met Chishiya’s. He sent you a soft smile but before you could reach him, everything turned black.

- - -

Once your eyes opened, you were met with a white ceiling. You raised your hand to put it against your head that was pounding unpleasantly.

“What happened?” You asked the nurse that was checking the monitor next to your hospital bed.

“You were one of the survivors of the meteor that fell on Tokyo. Your heart stopped beating for a whole minute but the paramedics succeeded to get your pulse back. You might experience memory loss which is normal, after a few days you should regain everything!” She smiled before leaving the room to check on other patients.

“A meteor? My heart stopped? For a minute?” You groaned at the massive headache, getting a strange feeling you were gone for much more than a minute.

After a few hours, you were discharged from the hospital and you were finally allowed to go home. It still felt as if you weren’t home for weeks.

You only had your purse on your nightstand, so you left the room after grabbing it. Nothing seemed right when you were walking down the hospital hall, as you somehow felt empty.

Outside the window, you saw all the other survivors who were with their loved ones.

“My bad.” You bowed apologetically when you accidentally bumped into someone.

“No worries.” A strangely familiar raspy voice came in contact with your ears.

You lifted your head and was met face to face with a blonde man in his mid-twenties. He analysed your face thoroughly and frowned after a few seconds. Before you could say anything, he left without a word.

“Why did he look so familiar?” You groaned at the incapacity to find him in your memories.

After two months, you successfully opened your own cafeteria. It was a dream of yours since you were a child but you never got the courage to have one because of your parents who didn’t consider it as a real job. However, after the incident with the meteor you realised how suddenly life can end. You decided to live it to the fullest and do as many things as possible in order to not regret anything.

You didn’t expect many people at the opening day but you were pleasingly surprised when your cafeteria was filled with customers. By the end of the day, you earned more money than you thought.

It was past 8 pm, so you decided to call it a day. As you were washing the dishes, you heard the bell ring, indicating someone entered the cafeteria.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed for toda-" You cut yourself mid-sentence when you turned around and saw the blonde man from the hospital.

“Oh, I’ll come back another day.” He was about to leave but you quickly stopped him.

“Wait, it’s fine! I’ll make an exception.” You smiled and invited him to sit down. “So here we are, meeting again.” You laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it to be honest.” He confessed, looking at you.

After making his order, he asked you to join his table.

“Your heart stopped beating for a minute too, I suppose?” He asked, catching you off guard.

“Oh, when the meteor hit, yeah.” You smiled awkwardly, not being able to maintain eye contact with him. “Although I felt as if I was gone for weeks.” You added, wondering what he would say.

“Me too, I felt like I was in a completely different world, weird right?” He smiled, taking a bite of your cookie.

“I have this feeling as well but then again I can’t remember anything from when I was unconscious. To be honest, I don’t even remember the moment the meteor hit the city. Everything just happened so suddenly.” You sighed, still not quite believing what Tokyo and its citizens went through.

“That makes one thing we have in common. I’m sure there’s more though, so what about getting to know each other more?” He asked, his eyes staring into yours.

“I- I would love that." You chuckled, reaching out your hand to him. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Chishiya.” He slightly squeezed your hand, his fingers brushing over your skin reminding you of something you’ve never experienced and yet something that felt so familiar.

What you didn’t know is that Chishiya already knew who you were and remembered exactly what you both went through. The games, the deaths but specifically your smile and the way you made unfamiliar feelings develop in the his chest. He knew you both had your life ahead so without rushing things, he promised himself to make you fall for him all over again. This time, in a world where you’re both safe and sound.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #chishiya angst #aib chishiya #alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya fluff #chishiya icons #jdrama #arisu imagine

[galazry]

Finally... a glance...

pairing: best friend!scaramouche x gn!reader genre: modern au; friends to lovers; unfortunately, this is not angst; semi-crack? tbh i threw away all my logic while writing this. content: he finally confessed his feelings... at the worst possible way. before you could even answer, scaramouche had already run away. now you're left alone to wonder... how much of an idiot are you? cw: you get to learn how stupid both scaramouche and the reader are, also kazuha is here and is so tired with how his friends are acting. word count: 2K (I had a bit too much fun while writing this haha...) a/n: sequel to "Look at Me!". tbh i was planning to make a sequel that leads to an angsty ending. Don't worry, I'm not bamboozeling you guys this time 🫶 ALSO I'M SORRY THIS TOOK A LONG TIME I WAS SO BUSY 😭😭😭

It's been a week since Scaramouche confessed his feelings for you. Your aloof best friend for 5 years confessed that he had been harboring affection for you for the longest time. To be honest, you were quite baffled once those words poured out of his lips. Never had a single thought of him being infatuated with you crossed your mind. Hell, you even thought that if you were the last person on earth, he wouldn't even catch any feelings for you.

Oh, how you were proven wrong.

It's been too long since you've seen his figure. Seven days too long. None of the messages you've sent had been read, nor did he pick up any of your calls. His classmates knew nothing of his whereabouts, nor did he attend any of his classes. You even tried to go over to his apartment as you were sure he would be in there, but your knocks were met with silence.

The rest of your friends and classmates noticed how the usually lively atmosphere around you had gone gloomy. Currently, you were in the cafeteria, twiddling with your spoon, food untouched. You didn't really have an appetite as a heavy sigh left your lips. A week had pass and you were still trying to process everything that he had said; how Scaramouche had done everything to gain your attention, but all his efforts didn't bear fruit. You thought that all the things he had done were normal since you both had been best friends for a long time. Maybe it was why you didn't suspect him harboring feelings for you–

"Hey, [Y/N]. May I sit here?"

You begrudgingly lifted your head to the source of the familiar sound that had interrupted your thoughts. Kazuha. You nodded and your friend sat across from you.

"You seemed down in the dumps lately. Not only that, Scaramouche is nowhere to be found. Did you both had an argument of the sort?"

Leave it to Kazuha to sense the change in the atmosphere around you. You let out a sigh as you kept poking at your food. Not wanting to tell him the full truth, you only answered him briefly.

"No... No, we didn't."

"Ah, I see.”

You both continue to eat your food in silence – well, specifically, it was Kazuha who was eating his food, while you kept twiddling with your utensils. After a bit, you decided to break the silence. After all, this was Kazuha, one of your closer friends who, more you would sometimes confide in. Not as much as you did with Scaramouche, though.

“Actually… I guess we kind of did…? Scara kind of…” You take a deep breath, before muttering, “confessed to me…”

“Oh? Congrats to you both then. He finally had the courage to confess to you after harboring his feelings for you for so long. I don't see the reasoning for you to be so down in the dumps.”

Kazuha smiled, as if the words you said wasn’t a surprise to him. You, however, had your eyes as wide as saucers with the reaction he had given you. How did the platinum-blonde knew that Scaramouche liked you? The look on your face tells him that he was missing a big chunk of the story. Putting down his spoon, he leaned closer towards you and asked, “[Y/N], you did accept his feelings… right? This is what you have always wanted, no?” You slowly glanced away, not wanting to answer his question. Suddenly, to you, the trees outside looked that much more interesting as it swayed with the wind.

“[Y/N].”

“Look, I was shocked, alright?! The fact that the feeling was mutual was a complete shocker to me! And before I could process everything and answered him, he bolted right off!" You groaned, finally starting to spill the beans towards your friend, who suddenly felt his shoulders getting heavy.

“Oh dear…” Kazuha sighed as everything finally clicked into place. Even without you telling him the full details, he could already guess what had transpired between the two of you. He had always thought you both were a pair match in heaven and the event that had transpire prior really sealed said fact.

“This is why I told you to stop discussing your so-called ‘crushes’ in front of him.”

“Well…” After telling him the full story of what had happened that day, your friend could only let out a long and tired sigh as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt—the way you kept talking about the people, he knows you don’t have crush on in front of Scaramouche, and the way the indigo-haired confessed to you—he could only form a rueful frown on his face. “You know I’m stupid with these kinds of things and I thought if… you know…”

Kazuha knows. He knows how you thought that if you discuss your so-called 'crushes' with Scaramouche, you could discern if he has feelings for you as well. In addition to that, you also thought by making him jealous enough, your best friend would confess to you — which he did, though it didn't really end like how you wanted it.

"[Y/N]... Why couldn't you just be straightforward and confess your feelings for him...?"

"And look like a fool and possibly ruin our 5 years of friendship if the feeling wasn't mutual?!"

Kazuha massages his forehead as he remembers the conversation he had with Scaramouche weeks prior before the incident. He too had asked the indigo-haired why he didn't went up and be straightforward with his feelings. Scaramouche was, after all, infamous for speaking what's on his mind. In spite of that, Kazuha got the same answer like the one you gave him...

"There's no way I'm ruining my friendship with [Y/N] if the feeling wasn't mutual! Only an idiot would do that!"

To concur, you both really were a match in heaven— being total idiots oblivious to each others feelings and poor Kazuha was stuck in the middle. With a sigh, ruby orbs looked at you.

"So... What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know... Scara wouldn't even open the door for me-"

You stopped mid-sentence and stared at Kazuha. Before he could get a word out, you leaned towards him with a glint he knows so well. This can't be good...

"Kazuha... Your apartment is next to Scara's... right?"

A week.

A week long he had taken absence from attensing any of his classes. Scaramouche felt like his world crashed into him the minute he ran away from you. That wasn't how he wanted the confesion for you to go... There should have been flowers, or homemade cookies, anything.

The indigo-haired layed on his unmade head, constantly and silently cursing himself for his cowardly actions. He was about to mope some more when he heard a faint knock. At first, he ignored it, thinking that it was either you or Kazuha. Although, the knocks grew louder and louder, and even more desperate that, with a sigh, he got out of bed and walked towards the door.

Peering through the peephole he saw no one, yet the knocks kept coming. There was even a voice that kept calling out his name where was—

Indigo orbs dilated when they say your figure, on his balcony, pounding on the glass door, calling out his name. Without missing a beat, he immediately pulled you into his apartment. "Are you crazy?! How did you get into my balcony?!"

"From Kazuha's balcon-"

"FROM KAZUHA'S BALCONY?!?!"

He didn't gave you any time to reply as he began to check for any bruises or injury you may have suffered as you did your irresponsible stunt. All the while, he kept running his mouth, saying how you could have gotten hurt, and that he would have a talk with Kazuha for letting you do said stunt. Once he was sure that you did not suffer any injury, his hand immediately pinched your cheek. "[Y/N] [L/N]... What gave you the right idea to jump from his balcony to mine, hm?" Scaramouche asked with a smile, effectively sending chills down your spine. With a gulp, you answered him with as much confidence as you could muster.

"You kept avoiding me. My text, my calls, my knocks. Every time I try so hard to reach out to you, you constantly block out my efforts. So I had to do what I had to do. Even if the risk was great, as long as I get to talk to you that's all that matters." It was his turn to advert your gaze. Dropping his hands from your cheek, he then rubbed the back of his neck. Was it from shame? Or was the fear of you rejecting him now back to gnaw at his heart? The indigo-haired didn't know.

"Look, I know what you're going to say; That you have no feelings for me, I get it. No need for this whole stunt just to reject me," He let out a sigh, still holding onto the illusion that you never once hold any feelings for him. It was now your turn to prove him wrong, and to apologize for the misunderstanding that almost rift your friendship and potential relationship apart.

His eyes went as wide as saucers when your lips brushed against his. Soft. That was the only think he could think off once you pull away, the smile he had always adored and cherish now on your face. "I have feelings for you too, Scara." Suddenly, the dullness of the world around him became vibrant and colourful. The fluttering of the butterflies in his stomach could definitely cause a storm. This must be a dream, there's no way, in his mind, that this was all real. Or maybe it was some sort of cruel joke the heavens is playing on him.

Seeing the confusion reflected in his eyes, you explained to your best friend — how you actually had fallen head over heels for him; how you faked all your crushes to instigate a reaction from him; how you wonder if his aloofness was a sign that your feelings weren't reciprocated, but never did you once gave up. You wrapped everything up with an apology, that you could have done things better, and that you were ready to face a rejection from him. "After all," your hand cups his cheek, caressing it gently with your thumb, "this whole thing started because I wanted to make sure that you did have feelings for me. So, if your feelings for me have faded away, I would understa-"

"Idiot." He intercepts you mid-sentence, pulling you in for a hug. "You're stupid... Can't believe that you are a total idiot... Maybe this is the reason why you could never beat my scores... Always taking the most difficult and strangest route of them all." You were about to complain and ask about the correlation about academic scores and your current situation. However, the rare smile on his face as he looked at you as if you're his entire world completely shuts you up.

"But... I guess you're my idiot now, huh?"

.

.

.

You finally finished telling the story of how both you and Scaramouche started dating. The children, that you both were babysitting, had happy smiles on their face as your lover groans in embarrassment at the story. To the man, it was a cringey story, yet he never did once try to stop you from telling the kids about how your relationship with him started. He loved seeing the smile on your face, and if he had to endure hearing the same story over and over again, so be it.

Scaramouche wouldn't admit that he too, at that time, had been an idiot, for causing such a scene. Well, in the end, you both still got together and that's all that matters. Not to mention, you both have a fun story to tell to everyone as an added bonus.

Once the children's parents picked them all up, you both then snuggled on the couch. A soft humming filled the room as you gave Scaramouche a quick peck. "Hey," you started off and he immediately knows where this conversation is going. "One day, love. Right now, I want to savour these quiet and tranquil moments with you before this home of ours becomes lively and we have little spawns running around." He let out a small chuckle, holding your hand as his thumb traced the ring on your finger.

#gala writes #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche x y/n fluff #scaramouche x you fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #kabukimono #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono x reader fluff #kabukimono fluff #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader fluff #wanderer fluff

[drivergemini]

i got a goth gf (and she’s hotter than hell) :: e.m.

summary: eddie munson is head over heels for the new girl. how could he not be when she was even more metal than him?

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, swears, goth kid bullying, non supernatural au

word count: 736

-

eddie munson was a man of many many words. he would ramble on and on about how much he loved dungeons and dragons and how much he hated hawkins. he would never shut up.

that is until a figure strutted through the hawkins high school cafeteria. dressed in a skirt that was pulled up a little too high and a leather jacket over her black tank top. and her boots. jesus christ those black leather boots. they were higher than her kneecaps with an at least 5 inch heel. 

hellfire had never seen this man so quiet. his mouth just hung open in absolute awe as his eyes followed her heavily teased black hair.

“hellooooooo,” dustin snapped his fingers in front of eddie’s face. “earth to dipshit. hellooooooo?” eddie snapped out of his trance and looked at the younger boy. “eddie you look like a creep starring at that girl.”

“girl? what girl?” mike said turning his head looking for the source of eddie’s silence. he sees the girl sporting heavily black eyeliner and turns around with wide eyes. “wow eddie you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

he snapped his head towards the freshman boy. “shut up wheeler. what do you know about girls. that right there is an angel from heaven.”

“more like a demon from hell,” mike muttered under his breath. 

over the course of a week, she became eddie’s new fixation. he would scramble to lunch to spill the new information he found everyday.

“her name is y/n and she’s a transfer from connecticut.”

“she’s was in an all girl punk band called overgrown graveyard.”

“her parents own starcourt industries.”

this caught the lunch table’s attention. eddie raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his chair. each boy just looked at him with blank expressions. 

dustin was the first to speak. “no way in hell you’re going to get a girl like that. no matter how much it looks like KISS threw up on her.”

“oh yeah? watch me henderson.”

- 

it took another week for eddie to be able to find a perfect opportunity to talk to y/n. but when it came, it was perfect. 

he honestly thought he was hallucinating. he roamed through the halls of hawkins high before his hellfire meeting started. he could hear a familiar notes coming out of an electric guitar. he listened hard and followed the sound like a bloodhound. 

when he reached the band room, he could hear it much clearer. he peeked in through the classroom door window and saw y/n sitting on an amp playing twisted sister. he could hear her soft humming of ‘we’re not gonna take it’ between every riff break. 

this was his moment. this was his time. he knocked softy on the wooden door. her head shot up with a confused expression on her face. eddie saw this as a sign to open the door. “twisted sister right?” he scratched the back of his head.

“eddie munson right?” y/n shoots blankly back. he could see very clearly that she has two nose rings on each side and an eyebrow piercing on her left.

“uh yeah. you’re y/n. how did you- do you know who i am?” this was not how he imagined this going. 

“eddie munson. 20 year old senior. hellfire clubs founder. and hawkins high school’s outcast freak.” she paused for a moment. “oh and a certified stalker.”

eddie’s breathe caught in his throat. shit he was busted.

her straight face turned into a wide grin. she bursted with laughter at the sight of his eyes go wide. “i was joking! loosen up a little buddy.” 

he let out a huge sigh. “so you know i’ve been watching you?” hearing those words come out of his mouth made him realize that maybe he was a bit of a creep. 

“yes and if you were a slightly better stalker, you’d know i’ve been asking about you too.” her face was so calm and collected, eddie’s was hot and flushed. he felt like a warm tomato. 

he looked at the watch on his wrist. “oh shoot i have to go to my hellfire meeting. do you want to maybe- i don’t know- hang out tonight?” 

“sure let me give you my address. come over anytime.” y/n pulled out a notebook and ripped out a page. she scribbled down her address and eddie gentely grabbed it from her hands. as he ran towards the drama room, he looked down at the paper. after her address was a tiny little scribble of a heart.

-

he has never wanted to leave a meeting more than he did that day. he sprinted to his van, double checking to see if he still had the piece of paper in his pocket. 

as he approached your front door, he started to pause. maybe he should’ve bought you flowers or maybe took you out to dinner. too late now he was already involuntarily knocking. he waited about 30 seconds before the front door swung open. “hi i’m looking for y/n?” the girl in front of him furrowed her eyebrows. eddie studdied her face for a few seconds. “oh shit y/n.” 

“i don’t know whether to be offended or not,” she laughed a little and gestured him inside. “you caught me as i was cleaning my face so i don’t blame you.” he noticed the smudged out left over mascara under her eyes and the lack of face piercings. “wait here in the living room and i’ll be right back.”

eddie looked around her living room in amazement. it was themed all white and had a crystal chandelier overhead illuminating the room. 

“how long have you been starring at the ceiling for?” eddie turns his head and sees y/n standing at the bottom of the stairs. her face completely bare but her piercings back in. all eddie could focus on was her aerosmith shirt. 

“your house is massive.” y/n plopped herself down on the couch and motioned eddie to sit with her. he tried his best to not sit too close to her.

“so i heard you’re also in a band?” eddie’s ears perked up slightly. “i was too back in connecticut. i played electric guitar.”

“so do i! my band is called corroded coffin. you should come to one of our shows sometime.” eddie could feel his body untense, this was nice. “i heard you play a little earlier, you’re pretty amazing.”

she shot up and made a motion indicating him to wait. she got up and picked up a beautiful, all black electric guitar from the corner. she plugged it into an amp and turned it on. “could you play for me? it’s only fair because you heard me play earlier.”

eddie’s eyes grow wide, which is something that he did often now. “i- i mean i guess why not?” he grabbed the guitar that he was handed. a little smaller than he was used to but not an issue. as he started playing he felt the beautiful vibration of the strings under his fingers. he looked up and abruptly stopped. y/n sat starring at him with her mouth hung open. 

“why did you stop?” she questioned with a confused look on her face.

“you’re just so...” was he going for is? this was really now or never. he was leaning towards never. “beautiful.” oh wow i guess he chose now. y/n could feel her face start to get warm. 

“i think you’re beautiful eddie munson.” y/n let out a laugh to relieve the tension.

“let me take you on a date. a real date. i know this great 24 hour diner, we can go now if you’d be down.” he was feeling very bold tonight.

their night ended up in a diner sharing the same side of the booth. sharing a milkshake. and maybe sharing a couple of kisses but that’s for them to tell.

-

eddie was the first at lunch the next day. he waited for the rest of the group to trickle in as he sat with his feet propped up. 

“you look like you have something to say?” lucas questioned looking around at his peers. the rest of the boys nodded their heads in agreement.

“well gentlemen.” eddie stood up and raised his hands in the air before slamming them down. “i got a goth girlfriend. and she’s hotter than hell.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson just needed a goth girlfriend #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things one shot

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— your teeth don't scare me

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: descriptions of gore and violence

summary: the first time wednesday ever witnesses the true form of an oni demon, it doesn't drive her away

word count: 1.8k

"Have you seen (Y/n)?" Wednesday asked as she came up to her roommate where the blonde sat at the table in the dining hall, busy with a plate of a bloody steak, and the sudden appearance of her friend almost made her choke on the chunk of food in her mouth.

"Shit- I haven't. She must've left before dinner," she chewed and proceeded to swallow quickly, now obviously worried, "Why? Is something wrong?"

“Where does she usually go? Does she have a cage, like the werewolves do?”

“She doesn’t,” Yoko answered from the blonde’s side between small sips of bottled blood, “Weems lets (Y/n) run wild in the woods when she turns. Apparently a cage isn’t enough to hold an oni demon.”

Wednesday seemed lost in thought for a bit, then nodded and turned back to Enid.

"I'll be out for a walk. Cover for me if the need arises. Good night."

"Cover for you how? Where are you even going? Wednesday!"

The words fell on deaf ears as Wednesday quickly left the cafeteria, down the hall and to the front entrance of the academy, her steps hurried as she set out into the woods.

As the ravenette walked, she looked up at the sky where the Full Blood Moon was slowly rising from between the dark clouds, as if taunting her – you won’t make it in time, you’re too late.

Like hell she was.

When the trees around the girl became thicker and her vision was obscured by the leaves, her steps momentarily became slow and cautious, careful not to alert someone hostile with her movements. Going into the woods at night was itself a rather bad idea, especially with a monster on the loose, but for Wednesday it was a mere walk in the park, and a rather enjoyable one. There were no sounds except for the wilderness, and the chirping crickets paired with the distant howling of Nevermore's werewolves made for a lovely ambience.

But the ravenette didn’t venture into the small forest for her enjoyment. There was aim in her step, and in her hand she held a golden accessory that she knew belonged to a certain oni girl who needed it during every Full Blood Moon. Wednesday wasn't sure what exactly its purpose was, but she didn't think much about it - she had to bring it to (Y/n), lest something horrible happened.

The girl looked around, catching sight of deep claw marks and fallen trees around her, and she knew she was close. Leaves crunched under her boots as Wednesday stepped closer to a clearing, and through the thick trunks she could make out a dark hunched silhouette. The ravenette slowed down, carefully squeezing through the bushes, and held her breath at the scene in front of her.

The huge creature was sitting on the forest floor, tusked maw completely buried in a body of an animal, and upon closer look Wednesday could make out a young deer, a chunk of its neck bitten off. The oni's claws were sunk into the prey, and she mauled at the raw flesh with loud munching noises as if she hadn't eaten in months, blood and intestines getting all over her torn hakama pants and face. Advancing forward, Wednesday could see huge horns adorning the top of the demon's shaggy head, something akin to scales covering the tips in splashes of dark - red color, and the same rough scales grew on her feet and hands, clashing against the greyish skin of the oni.

Wednesday heard a branch snap under her boot suddenly, and (Y/n) turned her head sharply to look at the source of the sound. When the (e/c) cat - like eyes flicked to the smaller girl's body, the demon furrowed her eyebrows, and a low intimidating growl came from somewhere deep in her throat.

"(Y/n)," Wednesday began, but didn't risk to take another step closer, "It's me. I brought your pendant." She held the dragon charm up by the lace to show it to the monstrous girl, and the ruby eyes of the golden ornament shined in the moonlight.

The oni let go of the deer, the carcass hitting the dirt with a disgusting wet squelch, and rose to her full height, the ground shaking under her clawed feet. She slowly walked over to the ravenette, towering over her much smaller frame, and Wednesday's head could barely reach the demon's navel. The creature got on all fours to get face to face with the girl in front of her, clawed hands furrowing the soil, before her huge maw fell open with a deafening roar.

Wednesday didn't budge, staring at the demon with an unbothered expression, even though the rush of powerful air worried her hair and clothes. Then (Y/n) closed her mouth and huffed, steam coming out of her nostrils.

"Was that a 'thank you'?" Wednesday asked, clearly not in the mood for the oni's attitude. A spark of recognition glistened in the demon's eyes at the tone, but her heavy jaw snapped in front of Wednesday's face menacingly.

"None of that. I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner time, but you need this," the ravenette berated the creature as if she was scolding a guilty dog, and not a seven feet tall demonic abomination, "Come on. I'll put it on for you."

The oni thought for a moment, shoulders rising and falling with deep breaths, before she complied, sitting in front of the ravenette and crossing her legs. She huffed again, a grumpy display of reluctant obedience, and watched as the small girl carefully got on her tip — toes to swing the lace around her massive neck. Wednesday fixed the pendant on the demon's chest, then, satisfied with the way it glinted in the darkness, looked up at (Y/n), meeting her terrifying (e/c) eyes. The body of the oni was incredibly warm, and being so close to her was like sitting next to a radiator on a cold winter morning, the feeling rather pleasant and tingly. Wednesday's gaze slid down to the bloodied mouth of the creature, and she sighed.

"Such a messy eater," rummaging around in the pocket of her hoodie, she produced a black handkerchief, and carefully grabbed the demon by the chin to wipe at her lips and protruding tusks, "Don't you know blood is hard to wash off?"

(Y/n) grunted in reply, letting the ravenette clean her up, and when Wednesday was finished, the oni nuzzled her snout against the girl's smaller pale face with surprising gentleness, but the force was still enough for Wednesday to almost loose her footing.

"Well now you're just sucking up to me."

The demon snorted resentfully, baring her tusks, and Wednesday rolled her eyes, raising her hand to caress the big creature under her chin, scratching softly.

"Fine. Don't sulk."

A deep purr resonated through the oni's chest and she closed her eyes, undoubtedly enjoying the affection. What a strange scene it was - a much smaller human girl turning a huge oni demon into complete putty in her hands.

"Are you coming back soon?" Wednesday inquired, resting her palm on the demon's cheek, and (Y/n) opened her eyes, grumbling in disagreement and looking up at the night sky. The ravenette followed her gaze, where the Blood Moon was shining at its peak.

"I could stay with you."

The oni growled in response, shaking her head from side to side wildly, her disheveled (h/c) hair swishing with the movement like a lion's mane.

"I'm not helpless, (Y/n). I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

(Y/n) sighed at the ravenette's stubbornness. Of course, there was no way to ever convince her otherwise. But still, the demon girl didn't want to run any risks - she knew she could protect Wednesday if the circumstances would force her to do so, but she'd prefer her as far from danger as possible, if she could help it.

The demon butted her head against the girl's chest, nudging her forward to where she came from. A whine escaped her lips when Wednesday held her ground again, sitting down in the demon's lap instead and reaching for her big rough hand with both of her smaller palms, clasping them around the limb gently.

"I... I don't want to leave you." She mumbled, tracing her lithe fingers over the scaled skin.

God, how could (Y/n) deny her? She was weak for the gloomy girl, and now the small moment of vulnerability almost made her melt. The calming charm on her neck was definitely working its wonders — the demon relented, hanging her head and breaking eye contact with a sigh of defeat, broad shoulders sagging.

(Y/n) wished she could tell the girl she just wanted her to be safe.

A gust of cold wind blew through the clearing, and Wednesday couldn't suppress a small shiver. She was definitely underdressed, too hurried to get to (Y/n) to care about what she wore, the hoodie she put on over her striped sweatshirt not enough to protect her from the breeze.

Noticing her discomfort, the oni held the girl's body closer to herself, wrapping her arms around her, crossed legs tightening, and her big warm frame made a shelter for the ravenette, shielding her from the nipping weather. Wednesday pressed her head against the demon's chest, the calming rumbles and her beating heart fusing into a soothing lullaby.

(Y/n)’s slitted eyes scanned the clearing for intruders, never letting her guard down as she held the small girl in her arms like one would hold their most treasured possession, afraid to ever let go.

When Wednesday opened her eyes, she was greeted by the still dark sky. There was barely any light coming from between the clouds, but she was sure it wasn’t nighttime anymore – the color was brighter than before, and the chirping of crickets was replaced by the singing of early morning birds.

Slowly shifting on what she thought was the forest floor, the ravenette felt her soft – too soft to be the floor – bedding move under her body. Carefully propping herself up on her elbows, Wednesday realised she was lying on top of (Y/n), the demon’s form back to her normal size, and she was snoozing away, tusked mouth slightly open as she breathed calmly. One of her arms was draped over Wednesday’s waist protectively, and her golden dragon pendant adorned her half – naked being in a beautiful morning glow – wait, half – naked?

Wednesday averted her eyes at the realisation, color dusting her cheeks slightly. The demon’s haori was hanging from the ravenette’s shoulders, no doubt serving as a blanket during the cold night, and the only article of clothing the oni wore were her half – torn pants. Laying her head back against (Y/n)’s chest, Wednesday closed her eyes, the slow rise and fall of the taller girl’s diaphragm lulling her back to sleep.

They could afford some more rest.

#wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday the series #wednesday addams x y/n #imagine #female reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x female reader

[babyblue711]

Temptation

Ettore (High Life) x Reader - Part 1 Summary: Tired of the monotony of everyday life aboard the spaceship, you decide to start a little game to taunt Ettore. But your plan backfires and now you must deal with the consequences of temptation. This fic was heavily inspired by these two songs. I recommend giving them a listen before continuing: "Fill the Void" by Lily-Rose Depp & The Weeknd and "Little Girl Gone" by CHINCHILLA Words: 6.3K

Warnings: PLEASE READ! NSFW, Smut, Mature Themes 18+, Sexual Content 18+, Noncon, Dubcon, Rough Sex, Physical Violence, Mention of Suicide, Mention of Physical Abuse, Language, Degradation A/N: Consider Part 1 to be "just getting warmed up". I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to @arcielee for beta reading and @myfandomprompts for providing most of the pics and gifs! Dividers by @firefly-graphic

Every day was the same.

Trapped on this doomed spaceship that was destined for hell, every day felt like a relentless loop of monotony and misery. Same work, same people, same experiments, same old bullshit every fucking day. 

The utilitarian living quarters of the spacecraft make you feel like you are in a mental hospital, cold and uninviting. Every facet of the interior is minimalistic; a mix of sterile clinical spaces and dimly lit, shadowy corridors. Blue light shines at night that’s supposed to help the inhabitants sleep. The bland functionality and oppressive “sameness” just makes you want to scream.

Some days it all becomes too much to bear and you feel a small part of you snap. You despise feeling helpless and not in control of your life anymore; with each beat of your heart, white hot fire courses through your veins. At times, you yearn to unleash your fury on someone, anyone, to let out the pent-up frustration that has been building within you for far too long. But then the storm inside of you passes and you settle back into your repetitive routine once more. 

Your fellow shipmates are a bunch of criminals and weirdos. You try to make due with what you have, except for Dr. Dibs, whom you hate with your whole heart. Her cold demeanor and cruel experiments are a constant source of dread. She seems to derive pleasure from the suffering she inflicts upon you and the other girls aboard the ship.

Although you aren’t really sure you could call them friends, there are a few people you were “ok” with, mainly the other girls that also had to suffer through Dr. Dib’s sick experiments. A few of the guys are alright too; Monte is a loner that mainly keeps to himself and you’ve never heard him say an unkind word. Tcherny’s favorite place on the ship is the makeshift garden and you couldn’t blame him since it reminds everyone of Earth, of home. 

Ettore is…unusual. He has a certain aura that just feels…off. Your hair stands up on the back of your neck whenever you catch him staring or whenever he passes too close in the corridor, as if an electric current surrounds him, radiating off of his body. He’s a man of few words; you’ve rarely ever heard him speak. 

Amongst the girls, it’s well known that he doesn’t give a fuck if he is caught staring or leering, which he often is. Boyse especially dislikes him because he gives her the creeps. She normally has trouble sleeping at night because she says she can feel her skin crawl when he looks at her. You try your best to just ignore him most of the time. 

Until one day, during lunch in the cafeteria, you are sitting with the girls, mingling and talking quietly, when you feel a tingle go down your spine. You glance up and immediately make eye contact with him. 

His eyes lock onto yours, and you find yourself momentarily captivated by the intensity behind his gaze.

You were already having a bad day and you can feel the beginnings of another storm brewing inside. You’re sick of Ettore’s shit so you stare right back, issuing him a challenge in a silent duel to look away first. The air seems to sizzle with tension as you watch his glare harden when you don’t look away, like most of the girls normally do; he looks positively predatory with his sharp angular face and dark blue eyes. 

You refuse to let him intimidate you. Your eyes are watering but you’re too involved in this stupid little battle of wills to concede to him now by blinking. Thankfully, a welcome interruption arrives in the form of Monte. Having not noticed the little contest between you and Ettore, he walks right in front, breaking the spell between you two. You blink rapidly and take a deep breath, watching as Ettore leans around Monte to look back at you, an unspoken promise in his stare that seems to say, I’m not done with you yet. You roll your eyes and look away.

“What are you looking at, Y/N?” Boyse asks from beside you, snapping you to attention. 

“Uh...nothing,” you mumble back, not really wanting to engage with her.

“That fucking creep. He sits across from us to stare at us on purpose, have you noticed?” Boyse says, noticing the trail of your gaze.

“Yeah, I know but don’t let it bother you, Boyse, just ignore him,” you try to diffuse the situation. You don’t want to be involved in yet another incident where Ettore made a girl feel uncomfortable. Boyse goes back to picking at her food silently and you do the same. 

You ignore him now; he isn’t worth your time or attention. Even though you get a bad vibe from him, you can’t help but notice a certain attractiveness about Ettore. He is tall and lean, with corded muscles on his arms, toned chest, and abs. He has a very angular face, strong jaw and chin with a sharp nose and luscious lips. You have to admit that you had never seen a man with as beautiful lips as his.

Lost for a moment thinking about his body, you bring yourself back to the present. You scold yourself; perhaps the monotony of this ship really was driving you insane, lusting after someone who gave off such ominous vibes. You swore to hate men for all eternity after what you had endured. That’s how you ended up in this hell hole to begin with….

After years of torment and physical violence of both you and your mother, you finally snapped and murdered your abusive stepfather in his sleep after he was passed out from another drunken rage.

But, despite arguing in court that your actions should be considered self defense after years of abuse, the jury found you guilty and sentenced you to life in prison...or join this sick experiment in space. You aren’t remorseful that you had killed your step-father. He got what he deserved and no other woman would have to deal with his violence ever again. However, when your mother learned that you had chosen to accept this mission in space, she couldn’t bear the pain of losing her only daughter. She took a bunch of pills and never woke up. 

Now, you are an unloved, unwanted murderer and no one cared if you lived or died. This mission is perfect for people like you. 

You’re standing in line for the shower that evening, towel in hand, when Ettore walks by; his hair is still wet from his shower and he’s wearing a fresh set of scrubs, towel slung over his shoulder. You see him coming and avert your eyes so as not to attract his attention. He saunters over anyway and you know he’s trying to annoy you on purpose.

He stops right beside your left shoulder and you reluctantly bring your eyes up to meet his gaze. His presence is imposing and you can't help but notice how much taller he is compared to you, making you feel small and vulnerable in his shadow. He leers, invading your personal space and it takes everything in you to not step back from him as he looks down his nose at you. Your eyes lock in a tense standoff, each daring the other to back down. 

Despite your inner resolve, you feel a knot of tension in your stomach, and your hand instinctively tightens around the towel you're holding. It takes all your strength to hold your ground, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he sneers in a low voice. 

You realize that he is trying to intimidate you with some stupid alpha-male shit, but you are not afraid of him. Fire burns hot in your blood and you are ready for a fight.

“I’m not doin’ shit, Ettore, now fuck off,” you say back aggressively, letting him know you won’t be an easy meal with your tone.

“The fuck you aren’t,” he growls lowly, deep in his chest. He steps closer to you, suddenly trailing a finger from your eyebrow down the side of your face. The gesture is so unexpected that you flinch and freeze, staring up at him with wide eyes mixed with confusion and defiance.

“C’mon, love, I know you’re just playing hard to get,” he whispers as his eyes look you up and down suggestively. Finally, he turns and walks away.

As he exits the bathroom, you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding and think, What the fuck was that? You curse internally; you knew you shouldn’t have started anything back in the cafeteria. Now he thinks you’re interested or some shit. But…maybe you were, in a way? You feel conflicted, knowing that he thinks of you as an easy target. 

Finally, it’s your turn for the shower. You undress quickly and start to relax as the hot water streams over your shoulders. As you’re washing your hair, an idea comes to you and butterflies flutter in your chest at your wicked thoughts, the most excitement you’ve felt in a long time. Because of your abusive past, you refuse to let anyone ever make you feel small and insignificant ever again and decide on the spot that Ettore is going to become your next target of torture. You knew his weakness; you’d exploit his obvious sexual deviousness, which was probably fueled by the rules on the ship that the inmates couldn’t engage in any sexual behavior with each other.

A dark chuckle escapes your lips. You’d show him who’s boss. Given the lack of privacy on the spacecraft, you’d never fear his retribution; you could tease him mercilessly and always be able to evade any potential advances if he thought he would take things further…or so you hoped. 

A tiny alarm bell rings in the back of your mind. You knew that what you were planning was the equivalent to waking a sleeping dragon but you didn’t care. You are so beyond sick of the monotony of everyday life that you convince yourself that you needed this little extra bit of spice as an escape from the mundane reality of your circumstances.  

So, you allow this little game to proceed between you and Ettore, a cocktail of emotions swirling within you: boredom, lust, anger, hatred, desire—all of them fuel this strange dance.

As the days pass by, you continue to provoke him with stolen glances and lingering eye contact that says more than words ever could. He responds eagerly to your meager attention, just as you knew he would. His advances quickly became more pronounced as simple stares turn into physical contact: brushing your shoulder on purpose as he walks by, daring you to react. Anytime you are in the same vicinity as him, you feel a magnetic energy pulling the two of you together. You have created this friction on purpose to drive him mad, but you can’t help but feel like you are getting caught up in it too…  

Something had awoken in you that night when he touched your face in the bathroom. A wild, feral animal rattles at the bars of this proverbial cage that you had locked away deep inside a long time ago. Women aren’t supposed to be sexual creatures in the same way men are. It was a part of yourself that you have spent years hiding because you are afraid you’d just be labeled a whore or a slut. But what did it matter anymore on this dreaded spaceship? You can’t deny that you, too, feel a deep void, an ache in your chest, a need for something more.

Upon arriving back at your bunk one evening, you hear a deep breath from behind you. You whirl and see Ettore across the hallway, standing in another doorway, watching you. It’s the most provocative he’s looked thus far since he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. You hesitate, then decide to make a show of looking him up and down, biting your bottom lip, secretly admiring his toned chest and abs. When your eyes flick back up to his face, his gaze locks onto yours as he reaches into his pants and starts pleasuring himself right in front of you, not caring if anyone saw. 

Your eyeballs pop in shock at this brazen display of desire. Your heartbeat picks up and a million thoughts start to race through your mind. Should you tease him in return? What if he decides to come into your bunk? Red flags wave a warning in the back of your mind and you knew you were walking on a razor’s edge. You think he’s about to take a step towards you when, thankfully, a door slams nearby and Ettore vanishes into the shadows. You let out a deep breath, doubting your stupid plan to taunt him that was working way too easily. A ripple of unease flows through you. You could feel that he was like a volcano waiting to explode. What would you do when he did?

You decide to ignore him from now on to try to diffuse the tension you had built between you both. He needs to get a grip and, honestly, so did you. So, as much as you despise it, you release your frustration within “The Box” when it all becomes too much to bear. 

A few nights later, you are walking back to your bunk after visiting The Box. Still unsatisfied, you turn the corner and see Ettore scrubbing the floor in front of you, his back to you. He is shirtless again, dressed only in orange cargo pants. He doesn’t look around and you don’t think he’s heard your approach. You pause behind him, admiring the way his shoulder and back muscles ripple as he scrubs the floor. He has three tattoos, all black triangles; one on his right forearm, another on his left bicep, and finally, one on the right side of his neck. You assume they are symbolism for some type of gang. You’re staring, openly, almost hypnotized by the movement of his muscles. 

“I know you’re there,” he says suddenly and you jump out of your revere, heart leaping into your throat. He continues to mop the floor, not even bothering to turn around.

You feign nonchalance and start to walk by him, glancing down just as he is looking up at you.

“I can do you better than that box, you know,” he purrs at you with a cocky smirk. 

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen at his words. Your heart pounds and you know you can’t give him any encouragement, so you give a noncommittal grunt before hurrying back to your bunk. When you lay in bed that night, you know, deep down, that if you stood there and watched him any longer, half naked on the floor, you might just be tempted to find out for yourself. 

The next day starts like any other. You’ve been assigned to organize the storage room; a redundant and mundane task, located in the bottom level of the ship. You’ve been at it for a couple of hours, in the middle of inventorying the stockpile of supplies, when you feel a presence from behind. You don’t know what tipped you off exactly because he hasn’t made a sound, but you turn to see him silently shutting the door behind him and locking it, staring at you with a predatory gaze.

“The fuck do you want?” you ask aggressively, firing up at once. Anger is your first line of defense as your heartbeat picks up, but the smallest thrill of fear laces up your spine. An alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind, a small voice is screaming a warning to get out of that room. You are quite alone down here in this part of the ship and you doubt anyone would hear you if you try to scream. This was it…you had pushed him too far and now the consequence was right in front of you, looking at you mercilessly. 

“I think you know what I want,” he almost growls, voice deep. “You have a choice, we can do this the easy way….or we can do this the hard way,” his gaze hardens as he stares at you.

“Fuck off,” you say defiantly back. Inside, you are cursing fluently. You knew this day would come, knew he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation. He chuckles as he steps closer until he’s right in front of you, looking down.

“You wanna know what I think?” he says, and you really don’t care what he thinks but you know he’s about to tell you anyway so you don’t even bother responding. “I don’t know what you did to land here on this cursed spaceship, but I think, deep down, you’re just a good little girl, pretending to be bad, aren’t you?” He says this as if hoping to corrupt your innocence; you smirk to yourself, thinking he has no idea who he’s messing with.  

You raise your chin, looking him straight in the eyes and you just can’t help the words that escape from your mouth. “Well…this good little girl is only a bad girl for the right man,” you say with fire in your gaze, taunting him on purpose even though you know it’s a stupid thing to do. “And that sure as hell isn’t you.” 

You could feel the heat radiate off of him from the proximity of his body so close to yours. He smirks and his eyes darken dangerously as he takes the bait.

“Is that so?” he says easily. “You’ve been provoking me for weeks. You think I didn’t know exactly what you were doing all along? I saw you staring at me too. I think you want me as much as I want you.” His eyes seem to burn into you with desire, lust blowing out his pupil.

“It was just a stupid little game, Ettore. It didn’t mean anything, it’s not that serious,” you know you’re babbling as you try to remain calm by playing it off like you don’t know what he’s talking about. His nostrils flare as he sniffs out your lie and you suddenly feel like a mouse that has just wandered into the lion's den. “Besides, you know we can’t,” you say sternly, referring to the rules, trying to get him to see reason. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it. And I don’t give a fuck about Dibs’ rules,” he says menacingly. 

Rage starts to come to your rescue as you realize he’s not going to listen to a word you say.

You level him with a hard glare. “I don’t fucking want you, Ettore,” you growl back at him.

Panic seizes you for a moment when he reaches for you suddenly and cups your face with his hand. His thumb runs over your cheek in an unexpected gentle caress before moving over your lips, pulling your bottom lip down. His eyes flick up to yours as lust surges through your core at his touch.

“Such a smart little mouth you have,” he says quietly as he takes a deep breath. “I won’t have a problem fucking the brat outta you.”   

He moves so fast you don’t even have time to blink as he lunges for you, spinning you around and smashing you against some cardboard boxes stacked against the wall nearby. His fingers have a tight grip on your hair as he pushes your face into the box, using his knees to kick your legs apart, unbalancing you, one hand grabs your left arm and twists it behind your back. He moves at such a lightning pace that it momentarily takes your breath away.

He pulls your head back from the box by your hair and bends your neck to the side so he can run his nose from your ear to your shoulder, groaning like an animal in heat as he savors your smell. Your heart hammers in your chest. Shockwaves roll over you at the speed of his assault and you can’t even form words yet, only whimper slightly from the pain of having your hair pulled. At the same time, wetness pools at your center. 

“I gave you an opportunity, didn’t I?” he whispers darkly in your ear. “It didn’t have to be like this, you stupid little cunt,” he grunts as you try to struggle with all your might to get away from him, but he’s just too big, too heavy, too strong to break free of his grasp.

Rage boils in your blood as you realize just how well and truly trapped you are. Deep down, you knew this would happen. You realize he saw an opportunity to get you alone and he took it.  You know what’s about to happen and you know you can’t stop it, but you aren’t going down without a fight. 

Your breathing is fast as he starts kissing your neck, biting down on your pulsepoint, feeling your heart race.

“Fuck you, Ettore,” you say through gritted teeth. 

Provocatively, he grinds his hard cock against your ass through your clothes. “Oh, you will,” he growls as he lets go of your hair to effectively pin your arms behind your back with one hand. With the other free hand, he starts exploring your body, running his hand over your breasts and squeezing until he trails down lower, dipping his fingers under the band of your pants. 

You truly lose it at this moment as you feel him reach for your core. You struggle and fight for all your worth and he's forced to stop his path to your center and hold onto you tighter to keep you from getting away. His fingers latch around your throat and he squeezes hard, immobilizing you easily as you struggle to take a breath. His body pushes you further into the boxes, leaning his weight on you.  

“Stop fighting me,” he loudly growls into your ear aggressively. “You stupid little bitch, I know I do things to you too, just the same as you do me,” he breathes harshly. “Look how your body responds to me,” your nipples are pebbled against your shirt and he could clearly feel them when he assaulted your front a moment ago. 

“And I bet, if I touched you right now, you’d be wet, wouldn’t you, love?” he licks the outer rim of your ear and releases his grip on your throat. As you gasp and suck in air, as his fingers reach below your panties and his fingers find your slippery core. You whimper and draw shallow breaths as he groans into your ear when he feels how wet your cunt is. 

He dips down to your opening and gathers some slick, bringing it up to circle your bud and you feel the fight slowly leave your body. It has been so long since a man touched you, you feel like a switch has been flipped, lust now running rampant through your veins, like a shot of ecstasy to your system. He feels you relax under his hand and loosens his hold on your wrists that are still pinned behind your back. You moan softly and lean into him.

“That’s what I thought, you little slut,” he whispers in your ear. You allow yourself to enjoy this moment, but you’ve already formulated a secondary plan and intend to make him pay for this too. You’re simply lulling him into a false sense of security right now. By loosening his hold, he’s actually done exactly what you wanted. You let him circle your bud for a few more times, before you tense, spinning around and shoving him away from you as hard as you can. You aren’t the only one who’s going to feel pain today as renewed rage pounds in your chest.

You leap at him and the fight for dominance ensues as you grapple with each other, falling onto the floor. Physically, you know you are no match for him, but taking your anger and frustration out on him just feels so good. You kick and punch and scratch and scream. He’s doing everything he can to block and contain your flurry of blows but he’s not hit back yet either. Even if he does, that’s nothing new to you; you still have plenty of scars from your step-father.

You’re on top at first, but you’re under no illusion that you’re “winning”, just simply letting the frustration out as you claw at his chest. He quickly decides he’s tired of being your punching bag and he flips you over and lays his full weight on top of you, pinning you to the floor. 

You wrap him in a bear hug on the floor, thinking that if he can’t lean away from you to punch you, you’re safe from any strong direct hits from him. You’re both breathing heavily, Ettore trapped between your legs and you try to kick him from your position but he grabs your hip and pinches harshly, causing you to yelp in pain. 

He wiggles free of your arms, pinning your hands above your head with one of his as he looks down at you, fury in his gaze.

“Are you fuckin’ done yet?” he taunts you, knowing you’re pinned now. 

You literally growl back at him like a rabid, wild animal and show him your teeth; maybe he’ll think you’re insane and he won’t want to continue this anymore. It doesn’t work...

He smirks instead. “There she is…you weren’t lying earlier about the bad girl thing were you? I got myself a right little she-devil, haven’t I?” He chuckles darkly, a menacing sound causing fear to tingle at the base of your spine. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you tamed by the end.”

You don’t respond, distracted by his other hand that has traveled up your shirt, roving over your breasts. You try to buck him off but he’s just too heavy and you barely get him to budge. In alarm, you realize you’ve missed your chance to escape. He watches your face as he touches you and you glare back up into his eyes, hating feeling helpless like this. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he squeezes your breasts and then runs his warm hand down your ribs. 

Hatred and fury pound in your chest, but you’re caught off guard that he isn’t beating you to a pulp. It’s what you had come to expect from men, especially after the physical altercation you just had with him. Involuntarily, you feel yourself relax a little at his touch and your breathing becomes a little more steady. After a few more moments, he notices the tension leave you and suddenly his lips find yours in a violent kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. He starts grinding his pelvis into your aching cunt and you moan into his kiss, hating yourself for liking this but you succumb to his attentions, unable to resist more. Animalistic lust and desire blooms from deep within, your head swirls from his kiss, your body aches for his touch.  

You surrender the fight. “Take your shirt off,” you say when you both come up for air from your kiss; he knows he has to let go of your hands in order to remove his clothes.

“Are you going to stop fighting me?” he asks and you nod. He smirks, “so you gonna be a good girl now?” 

“Shut up, Ettore, it's your dick I want, not you,” you growl back at him and his grin widens. 

He lets go of your hands and quickly pulls his shirt over his head. You notice the red marks on his chest from where you clawed him earlier. You watch his abs contract with each panting breath, noticing his defined chest and lean muscles of his arms. You feel more wetness pool in your core as your eyes appreciate his body. 

You reach for the bottom of your shirt and surprise him by removing it yourself, your breasts pebbling in the cool air; you barely bothered wearing a bra anymore. He looks down hungrily at them, running his hands softly over your nipples. You arch your back and he immediately takes one in his mouth, the other rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your hands are in his hair as you grind your hips into his hard length. He bites down on the skin of your left breast, sucking a bruise onto the skin while massaging the other one firmly with his other hand. He moves upwards, kissing along your collarbone until he reaches your neck, biting, licking and sucking at all of your exposed skin. You rake your fingernails down his back, becoming impatient for more. 

He pulls away from your neck and sits up, reaching for your pants. You lift your hips so he can remove them completely. He admires your naked body, laying bare on the floor beneath him, the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, your wet cunt open for him. From his position kneeling between your legs, he takes your knees and spreads them apart, opening your pussy more for his view, groaning deep in his chest as his eyes feast upon your body. Deciding to tease him a little, you reach down and start playing with your bud and he stares shamelessly.

“Fuck,” he murmurs and watches you for a few moments. “Such a needy little slut aren’t you?” 

You moan and grind into your own hand, fingers dipping down to your entrance to gather some slick onto your fingers. You bring them up to your mouth to taste yourself, knowing that you’re about to drive him absolutely wild. Since he’s seen your “feral animal” wild-side, now you want to see his too. 

His mouth hangs open, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breathing as he watches your lips close around your fingers as you taste yourself and moan. His restraint snaps in an instant.

He pulls down his pants, freeing his large, veiny cock and gives it a couple pumps, watching your face. Your eyes widened at the sight; his cock is bigger than you expected, long and thick, a pearl of his spend visible on the tip. Your eyes meet and you’re sure he can see the slight trepidation in yours as he smirks. 

“You can fuckin’ take it,” Ettore says confidently, as if this is supposed to reassure you. He doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up with your entrance.

You were wet and willing and ready for him but you cry aloud as he sheathes himself fully in one thrust, not caring to take things slow with you. You pant and arch your back as his large cock fills you so completely full, eyes popping a little at the intensity of the intrusion. The stretch burns more than you anticipated and you focus on breathing through the pain.  

He gives you a few shallow thrusts before mumbling, “Fuckin’ hell, your pussy is so fuckin’ tight - sorry if that hurt a little after all,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound sorry at all. 

He pauses for a moment as he watches your face wince at the pain. He doesn’t give you long though, knowing that he’s hurting you but can’t seem to control himself as his hips start to snap into yours at a steady pace. 

After a few thrusts, you’ve adjusted to his size and pleasure starts to course through your core. You begin to meet his thrusts with your hips. He seems to take that as a sign to speed up as he suddenly pounds into you, much harder, causing you to cry aloud not from pain, but from pleasure.

His hips snap into yours as he fucks you hard, brutally, wickedly, deliciously, and you groan as lightning races from your cunt into your chest. Pleasure starts to build deep inside as his thick cock continually rubs your g-spot. He grabs one leg and puts it over his shoulder and leans over you, changing the angle, driving you wild and your walls start to clench around him.

“Gonna cum for me already?” he pants, an amused smirk on his luscious lips.

“Fuck, Ettore,” you mewl as the pleasure starts to overwhelm your senses. It had been so long since you felt this good. “Harder,” you challenge him, as if he isn’t already fucking you hard enough.

He glances up at your face before withdrawing completely and you feel momentary emptiness at the void left behind as he pulls out from your aching pussy. Flipping you over on your stomach, bringing your ass back in the air as he kneels behind you. You prop yourself up on your elbows as your knees dig into the cold, hard floor; you know you’ll have bruises on your knees from this position. He thrusts back into your aching core with a guttural groan and you feel a stinging slap to your rear end. You cry aloud and mewl pathetically, then feel him yank on your hair from behind. He pulls you up so that your palms are now resting on the floor, your neck pulled back, held by his grip in your hair; he fucks you ruthlessly as he rides you from behind. His other hand grips your hip so hard you know you’ll have more bruises tomorrow.

You both are panting heavily as he lands another blow to your ass, harder this time, you’re positive a red handprint remains and you may even form yet another bruise with the strength of his slap. He doesn’t even bother to run his hand along the tender skin to soothe it, he just keeps thrusting with single-minded intensity. The slaps sting but in a pleasurable way as you feel your core become impossibly wetter each time he hits you.  

You reach a hand down to play with your pearl, your walls clenching around his thick cock as pleasure coils low in your belly.

The bites, the bruises, the ache around your throat from being choked, the pull of your hair on your scalp, the sore spot on your ass cheek from his repeated slaps, the drag of his thick cock inside your wet, tight pussy causes your mind to go blissfully blank, all of the sensations overwhelming you. Your eyes roll in your head and you idly wonder how much pain and how much pleasure your body could handle until it snaps. 

Ettore can feel your orgasm approach as your walls start to spasm around him. 

“Little slut, gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” he growls, increasing his tempo. 

You have the wherewithal to get out one request before it’s too late. You try to speak in between his brutal thrusts. “Please…Ettore,” you pant. “When you cum, pull out.” All of the women who had gotten pregnant through Dibs’ sick experiment ended up dying. You didn’t want that fate just yet.

He doesn’t respond, continuing his pace and your breathing becomes harsh as you approach the precipice of your orgasm. The coil snaps and your release rips through you, obliterating everything else, your vision goes white. You cry out his name as he continues to fuck you through your high. 

“Fuckin’ shit,” he grunts as he feels your cunt clench down on him. Your orgasm is still rolling through you but he can’t hold back any longer, he pulls out and paints your ass with his spend. 

He finally lets your hair go and you collapse onto the floor and he falls next to you. You both pant and breath harshly for a few minutes, not saying anything. As you come down from your high from your intense orgasm, reality sets in: part of you feels satisfied for the first time in a long while, the other part of you feels like you can’t believe you just let that happen to you. You wanted it but you didn’t want it; you didn’t know how to feel. You feel relief that he at least listened and pulled out. 

Finally, he sits up and starts looking for his clothes. You take one last deep breath and are about to do the same when you unexpectedly feel him clean his spend off of you with his shirt, making you jump a little. He’s a little rough with the wiping but the gesture is almost nice for Ettore. He throws your shirt and pants over to you and you both get dressed in silence. 

He helps you up off the floor and lifts your chin with his finger.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he warns, looking deep into your eyes. You nod in acquiescence, there is no way you’d ever tell anyone, but you give him the reassurance that he needs.

A smug smile plays on his lips. “So compliant now, I see. I told you I would fuck the brat outta you.” You scowl and try to pull away from him but he’s trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He leans in closer and you think he’s about to kiss you, but he doesn’t. 

“You’re mine now, mine to use whenever I want, my own little slut, you fuckin’ belong to me. Don’t forget it,” he squeezes your chin and gives you one last dark glare before opening the door and exiting the storage room, leaving you stunned. 

You watch him go and feel a little paralyzed. You feel as though you just opened Pandora’s box. 

What monster have you just unleashed?

>>> Part 2

Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @pandemonium105 @aemondsscar @cyeco13 @multyfangirl @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @sylas-the-grim @megatardisbaby

#ewan mitchell #ettore high life #ettore x reader #ewan nation #ettore fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ettore smut #ettore crackfic

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you'd known that Simon wasn't okay since it had been announced that they'd found blood in the boiler room. his pain, his hurt, his loss had spilled out from him and into you and you'd had no clue how to handle it. and then suddenly, you'd been soothed, and all you'd been able to think of had been getting to the source of that comfort and giving thanks.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.8

Wally couldn't stop thinking about earlier. How the slopes and arches of your body fit against him like a puzzle piece. How malleable you'd been under his touch. The intense liquid heat that had thrummed between you both as he'd leaned in to kiss you; heartbeats synchronized, eyes fluttering closed, utterly surrendered to the sensation.

He'd kissed a few girls when he'd been alive. Hell, he'd made out with Dawn a handful of times when adrenaline and hormones had needed an outlet. None of those experiences held a candle to what he'd felt when he'd just barely brushed his lips to yours.

There was something underneath it all. Not just his attraction to you, which he'd harbored for going on two years now. Something else. Something mystical and big and unleashed. Maybe you already knew what it was. After all, you could reach through the veil, hear and see and feel Wally...maybe you had an explanation.

If only the connection between you and Wally hadn't made it practically impossible to finish a conversation.

"Where'd you go, superstar?"

Wally nearly jumped in surprise, having forgotten he wasn't alone. He glanced around, saw Katelynn—the courtyard fatality—and Ajay studying him as intently as Rhonda. They were in the kitchen piling a late lunch of leftovers onto their plates while, around them, the staff muddled through their end-of-day breakdown.

"Uh," Wally supplied, intelligently. He was a miserable liar, something Rhonda had teased him for mirthlessly in the past. Told him he was as easy to read as 3rd grade English (ouch). But he didn't take his promises lightly and knew he had to come up with something or Rhonda would grill him until he broke. Deflection it was, "Do you think Maddie had a good time?"

Rhonda, perched primly on a counter, rolled her eyes and plucked a bread roll from the bin one of the staff was about to seal. "Jesus, you really are ditzy for her, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that," Wally said. He really wouldn't, "I just want her to—"

"Confess her undying love? Make you the center of her universe and forget all about her dreamy, badboy ex?" Rhonda scoffed, "Hate to break it to you, hot stuff, but you'd just be a rebound and we all know how those end."

"Badly?" Katelynn guessed. Having been fourteen when she'd kicked the bucket, she'd likely never had the chance to explore the intricacies of romance. Or of all its thorns.

Rhonda's hands clamped and then bloomed in front of her as she vocalized a bomb exploding.

"No, Rhonda, that's not it," Wally spoke in long strokes, as if to a child, willing away a flash of irritation. "What I was gonna say was that I want her to know there's more to being dead than trying to solve your own murder." Since, after all was said and done, there'd be nothing left to do besides passively haunt Split River High.

And that shit got dull after a semester or two.

Unexpectedly, "I spoke to her today." Rhonda admitted, somewhat reluctant, as the group paraded from the kitchen into the cafeteria. Wally encouraged her to continue with a smile, "About how I died. She thought it could help, so..." She slid into her regular seat next to Wally, eyes fixed on her plate, "I guess it did because she took off after."

It was obvious that relinquishing even that morsel of information made her uncomfortable, shoulders curled to her ears and lips pursed, those metaphorical walls re-erecting.

Wally clapped her on the back, "You did good, Deadly." A fond nickname he used sparingly as it often earned him an elbow to the ribs.

This time, Rhonda simply glared a warning at him before tearing a piece off her bread roll and smearing it through the gravy on Wally's plate. Progress, he supposed.

To move the conversation away from Rhonda, Wally engaged Katelynn, "I saw you with the extinguisher today."

Katelynn grinned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"You know what we should do next time? We get those chairs with the wheels, a couple of fire extinguishers..." He mimed the scene with fervor, grinning conspiratorially between the others, "We could do it in the gym. Take bets. See who goes farthest. It would be awesome!"

Rhonda patted his knee twice—thank you—under the table. How she displayed gratitude without being obvious. As discreetly as possible, Wally returned the gesture, tapping three times to indicate I've got you.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Somehow, you'd done it: graduated to the end of the school day without incident. Sure, Mathilda had given you a funny look when you'd made your excuses to stay behind, but she'd been too distracted by what pieces to include in her portfolio to cross-examine you about it.

"Text me later, sillybean!" She called over her shoulder as she, Hana, and Lucas exited the school.

The siblings waved in unison, Hana pirouetting and blowing you a kaleidoscope of exaggerated kisses before falling back into step with her brother.

You turned back to your locker, shoving in your backpack and your uncle's hoodie. You'd accepted that the connection between you and Wally quashed any attempt you made to hide from him; berated yourself for not realizing it sooner.

After you'd closed the door and slipped the lock back into place, you mustered your courage and turned toward the direction of the theater. You could do this. Without getting sidetracked.

Yeah, you believed that about as much as you believed the lunchroom bread rolls were 'made fresh' everyday.

A metallic clamor caught your attention before you'd even stepped a foot forward, causing you to hesitate. Down several lockers along the row, Simon shook his lock against the hasp furiously. He was unmistakably upset, jaw tight, vibrating with unfettered anger.

You approached him just as he kicked the locker below his.

"Here," You said, inserting yourself between Simon and his locker, "What's the combo?"

Without pause, "8-37-15," he recited through gritted teeth.

You dialed the combination, unhooked the lock and held it out for Simon to take.

"You okay?" You asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes." Simon lied then abruptly changed his mind, "No. I don't know." He dumped his bag at his feet and rummaged through the contents of his locker only to give up and spin around. Propped against the closed bottom level, Simon ran his hands through his hair roughly, reminding you of someone with far too much responsibility that outweighed their experience.

"What's going on, Si?"

He lifted his head, brow creased with despair, "Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

The question knocked you for six. Unsure if it was rhetorical, you chose to stay quiet and, sure enough, Simon expounded. "Aren't friends supposed to tell each other things, even if it's hard? Even if they think it might hurt? Because, at the end of the day, you chose that person to be there for you no matter what. And that person chose you right back."

No questions asked. Your voice overlapped with Xavier's, years worth of emotional petitions for comfort and unbiased support echoing in your head.

Thinking of your friend, you wondered, "Is this about Nicole leaving with Xavier after lunch?"

Simon seemed surprised by the news, yet, after a second, confirmed, "Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's about that."

He stared at his feet, arms folded tightly across his middle, chewed his lip as he pondered what he wanted to disclose. Finally, "I just want to be there for her, but it's like she won't let me. And it sucks." His voice was damp with pain. "And now she's pissed and she's shut me out and...I don't know what to do."

When he raised his head again, you almost choked on the sorrow in his eyes. You wanted to hug him, hold him, cry. Here was a boy whose best friend had, for all intents and purposes, left him behind, and now he was scared he'd lost someone else.

The mounting sadness radiating from Simon made your eyes sting. You had no clue how to comfort him, not like you did Xavier or Mathilda, the two people you'd chosen and who'd chosen you back.

The strength of secondhand emotion chipped away at you, threatened to shatter you into a thousand anguished pieces, but just as you thought you would break, a familiar warmth sunk into the cracks. The sensation blossomed upward and concentrated behind your ribs, loosening a deep breath of relief.

Absently, you shifted your hand the slightest bit away from where it rested against your thigh, the movement undetectable unless one was looking for it. The warmth grew, contented and safe, and then—a whisper of fingertips across the back of your hand, there and gone.

You didn't move, kept your gaze on Simon; simply waited for Wally to enter your periphery. His back was to you, his hand returning to his jacket pocket as he, Rhonda, and a couple of others walked toward the end of the hall. You vaguely saw him split from the rest of the group, Wally going left while the other three went right.

Simon swallowed, mournful, and he rasped, "What do I do?"

Invigorated by Wally's touch, you planted yourself in front of Simon, placed your hands on his shoulders, and urged him to, "Talk to her. People knock communication like it's some kind of cheap cliche, but it's the best way to resolve things." He nodded, weak but resolute, and you dragged him into a hug. "Trust me," You said, "Just be honest and listen. You don't have to understand everything, you just have to accept it."

Simon chuckled wetly, squeezed you tighter for an instant before releasing you.

"Thanks."

"Any time." And you meant it with every fiber of your being. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Simon said, scrubbing the back of his wrist over his eyes, "I'll be fine." He cleared his throat, "Listen, um, I forgot something in the cafeteria, but if you want to wait I could give you a ride home."

Something in his tone suggested the offer was halfhearted, though you appreciated it all the same.

"Nah, it's cool. I have to study." You replied, already positioning yourself to leave. Simon didn't mention that the library was in the other direction, merely flashed you a small, grateful smile.

"See you tomorrow." He saluted.

Free to excuse yourself, you found you had to fight the desire to go go go, hurry, go, that warm sensation purring louder the closer you got to the theater. Fuck making sure the coast was clear, you were supposed to be in there right now; swung the door open with probably a lot more force than necessary.

Wally, who had been sitting on the edge of the stage awaiting your arrival, hopped down as soon as you entered the darkened space, his gaze instantly locking with yours.

One dubious step, two, three, and the warmth fizzled and licked inside you, encouraging your pace to quicken, faster, nearer. You broke into a run, closing the distance, Wally's stare never wavering. With less than a foot remaining, you sprung up and forward, body colliding into his. He caught you easily, held you in his arms with one hand under a thigh and the other around your waist.

No thoughts, no words, no inhibitions; fever-hot and eager; Wally's jaw in your palms, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his.

💀___________________________

PART SEVEN - PART NINE

note: they're so good at talking, eh? 😏 anyway, to let y'all in on my little headcanon: Hana is "helpful student" from episode 2, the girl who alerts Mr. Anderson to the deputy at the door when the class is watching Frankenstein (1931).

if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please join the tag list! (which i've intentionally deleted from this post for the time being 💖✌️bear with, pls!)

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits

[adora-but-ginger]

To Meet Your Match

pairing: Miguel O'hara x gn!reader

summary: you were nearly a parallel of him in some ways, and well you should never fight fire with fire.

word count: around 1k

warnings: angst, kind of like two feral cats meeting each other for the first time

a/n: i wrote this at 12:30 in the morning and woke up to it in my drafts with little memory of what i put. that being said, i think that miguel meeting someone who challenges his superiority would not only make him furious, but it would also make him fall quick. that being said i'm thinking of making a little series kind of with a bunch of little snippets of this spider-person and they're relationship with miguel and their backstory via little blurbs like this. let me know what you think!

masterlist

oh yeah, forgot to mention that you should not repost my stories, or any stories for that manner because that automatically gives you the title of little bitch boy (gender neutral).

thank you so much for reading!! <3 ella

credit to gif owner!

If he was being honest, Miguel had skipped your universe on purpose. It was one of the first he had portaled to and he was on edge from the moment he stepped into it.

Unlike others, your origin story was...complicated. Sure, he knew you had been bitten by a radioactive spider and yadah yadah yadah, but you were no hero at the beginning. Hell, he wasn't sure that he'd even call you a hero now. After you had been bitten, you had chosen to lash out in revenge against those who you dubbed had deserved it, showing little mercy to whoever fell at your hand. That, along with accidentally having a day job for a person that would cause one of your first canon events, well it made you more of an anti-hero to put it lightly.

You, like him, did things that no other spider person did, and he not only didn't want to deal with the mess that that would cause, but he knew merely from the few glances of you that he caught that he would fall down a hole he did not want to go down anymore.

You were almost a parallel to him in some ways, and he could already feel the pull.

So, when you came waltzing in with Gwen at two in the afternoon on what would normally be a regular Tuesday, well, his heart dropped. His heightened senses were going haywire, and he could tell that those with spidey senses were having a similar feeling, heads turning towards you. Gwen was practically bouncing with every step she took, and he gave Jess a look to which she shrugged. This is why he didn't go get lunch at the cafeteria.

You had a presence about you that seemed to attract static and push away the noise around you at the same time, and you knew this. You had agreed to the girl's request to "meet the others" after she practically asked if she could live with you, which Jessica had later informed you that her and Gwen's first interaction was similar. You didn't mind them though, and had agreed after a while to check out this "Spider Society".

Your dark gray and light blue suit stuck out a bit from the copious amount of red and blue, and little sparks erupted from your hands as you passed particular areas that were heavily electrified. As you strode past the others in this lobby area you raised your head, for if the eyes pinned on your figure expected something from you, well they were in tough luck. The girl had said you were going to meet the one who created this place, Miguel O'hara, and as you entered the dimly lit room your senses went wild.

You had been in his presence before. You don't know how or when, but the chill that shot through your body was familiar, and familiar was never good.

"aaaand here he is! he seems all mean, but don't let that fool you" Gwen had started before the said source of why your senses were having the time of their life stepped down from a particularly slow-moving platform. Incredibly tall and broad, the glare that met your eyes behind your mask regarded you with a sliver of apprehension.

"You need to let me know when you guys bring in a new recruit, you can't just show up in the middle of the day with one." His gaze didn't shift once, and you weren't going to back down from this either. Call it what you want, but you could sense that he needed to be knocked down a few pegs, and that not many people presented that opportunity.

But you knew his type, how their superiority complex functioned.

"What Earth are you from?" His voice was low and rough.

"I think you may already know."

It was a stare down, and you felt a little wave of triumph as he broke first to give you a once over. "Remove your mask."

You looked towards Gwen. "Is he usually this demanding?" She nodded, and you could feel the annoyance emanating from him. Giving him a once over then in return, you placed your hands on your hips as you tilted your head. "Not with that tone I'm not."

You could see his face turn into a scowl, the tip of a fang (a fang?) making itself visible for the briefest of seconds. "What did you just say to me?" His chest was inhaling deeper breaths now, and you could tell he was getting on edge. Good.

"I'm sorry, boss, do I need to repeat myself?" If he thought he was intimidating you, he was so, so, wrong. The anger was radiating itself off of him, and you could feel it fuel you more. Taking a step closer and shortening the distance of the two of you, you pointed a gloved finger to your chest, talking with your eyebrows raised and your words slowed down. "Ask me nicely, and I will."

His eyes flooded with a red that caught you momentarily off guard, you hadn't seen that before. He looked towards Gwen and Jess, who you suspected both gave him looks back, and he huffed with a cinch of his nose, seething through his teeth. With a roll of his eyes, he motioned a hand out and shrugged, which you figured was probably as nice as it was going to get.

You removed your mask then, showing your face to the spider-man in front of you alongside the two onlookers. You saw his face shift as that all too familiar rush of your eyes turning that electrifying blue went through you. You spoke your name then and held out a hand, fingers slightly sparking from the static forming around it. It was an electrified stalemate, with little bolts zipping in the air around your raised out arm.

"Well, boss, It's a pleasure to meet you."

#atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman

[bastardfucker]

Homelander X Female!Reader SMUTTY Oneshot

Midnight Baker

Description: After being stood up on a date, you came home to bake away your stress. When you set a tray of cookies out to cool, you never expected The Homelander to show up. You really hadn’t expected him to stay.

~*~

It had been another exhausting day for Homelander; his face always ached from the forced smiles and bullshit he was obligated to spew to keep the masses happy, but today had been especially grating. It’s nights like these that he’s grateful to be The Only Man in The Sky. High above the citizens, high above even Vought, Homelander is free to be alone with his thoughts. That said, alone is not exactly his favorite state of being. He’s exhausted of the asskissers, and not interested in whatever the hell Ashley has to say, so here he is, alone in the sky.

All alone with his thoughts, his mind frustratingly set on his own loneliness.

Before he takes out his anger on the fire escape of the poorly maintained apartment building nearest to him, he catches a whiff of something sweet; the thick scent of brown sugar and chocolate distracting him from his violent intentions. Silently, he finds himself floating toward a small balcony attached to the building, tray of fresh baked cookies cooling on the old wrought iron table. He hesitates a moment, hovering a bit above the shabby architecture of the balcony as to not make any noise. He could grab a cookie and go, it would be easy, and the occupant of the apartment would never know he was here…but, who the hell bakes a whole batch of cookies at midnight? These weren’t the cold impersonal ready-made frozen cookies from the Vought Cafeteria; the recipe was special, a little hint of something extra. He allows his boots to touch the ground, bored and curious enough to meet his Midnight Baker. He hears her heart racing before she can even open her mouth.

“Oh my god, you’re the fucking Homelander!” She stares dumbfounded at him.

He turns slowly, carefully, plastering on a charming smile as he waves the cookie at her. “I get that a lot.” He appraises her while he waits for her to speak; she’s pretty, beautiful even, skin bathed in the moonlight, dark makeup accentuating her features.

Her expression almost immediately softens from shock to embarrassment, and he notes the heat in her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She tugs at the hem of her apron, decorated in some silly Halloween pattern. “It must be exhausting having everyone gawk at you all day.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, having more expected her to start screaming like all the incessant fangirls did when he was spotted out and about. He’s unused to someone considering how their reactions might make him feel; Save of course, for Vought employees who know to tread carefully with him. “May I?” He asks, pretending to be nonchalant, gesturing with the cookie.

“By all means,” she offers up, too quickly to be completely casual. She’s nervous. “I bake when I’m stressed,” she explains; and he softens a bit when it becomes obvious that he is not the source of her stress. She’s not afraid of him, not yet at least.

He sighs as his teeth sink into the still-hot confection, the classic yet delicious flavors wrapping his senses in a warm blanket of American Domesticity. Cinnamon, that was the something extra he had smelled earlier. It’s good.

She smiles, watching him enjoy her baking with pride; it paints him in a much more human light than the Vought Approved meet and greets do. Even superheroes enjoy a good cookie now and then. “Have as many as you want,” she offers, the relief in her voice not lost on him. “I usually end up giving most of my baking to the neighbors anyway; can’t eat it all myself.”

Fuck the neighbors, he thought. “Are you new in town? I don’t remember seeing you before.” And he would remember her, he’s sure of it.

“Yes sir.” She shrinks a little, embarrassment flushing her cheeks again. “I’ve been here for a few weeks, but I don’t get out much…” She trails off, searching for the right thing to say. “I don’t really know anyone here, and a big city’s not exactly a safe place for a woman to go out alone.”

“You know me,” he answers a bit too quickly, a little frustrated that she’d imply he doesn’t keep the city safe as a schoolyard. “And I’d say you can’t possibly be safer than you are right now.”

This time when she blushes, her heartbeat quickens, and he shoots her a charming smile. “So,” he presses further, eager for a foothold into her life. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing, all made up, alone on a Friday night?”

“Oh,” her voice waivers. “I got stood up.” Hence the stress baking.

He can’t help feeling annoyed. A woman as considerate, beautiful, and good in the kitchen as her shouldn’t ever be made to feel like she’s not worth the affections of lesser men. Not when she’s worthy of his attention. “Now why would any man in this fine city be stupid enough to pass up a goddess like you?”

The term of endearment takes her aback, but he misinterprets her shock to be swooning. “He got back with his ex…he texted me a couple hours after he was supposed to pick me up.”

“He’s an idiot,” Homelander asserts, taking her hand. “I don’t care who his ex is; he made a mistake passing up the opportunity to spend time with you.” He presses his lips softly to her knuckles, making her heart rate skyrocket. He peers up at her through his eyelashes. “I don’t make mistakes.”

“Mister-Mr. Homelander, sir…” she stammers, and he relishes his affect of her.

He leans in closer to her, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. “May I come in?”

It’s a loaded question and he knows it, she knows it. She nods rapidly, backing into her apartment, his hand still wrapped around hers, blue eyes never leaving her. She stops by the couch with an expectant swallow, her eyes searching his. “Do you want to sit?” He nods.

Instead of allowing her to sit beside him, Homelander pulls the woman effortlessly into his lap, earning a gasp. “I thought this would be more comfortable,” he smirks with too much tooth.

She smiles shyly back at him, her heart a steam hammer in her chest. He rests his hands on her thighs, smiling comfortably. “You know, I like you. Apartment’s a little small, could use some sprucing up, but it’s comfy.” Her mouth opens to speak, but he stops her with a finger against her lips. “I’m not done, Sweatheart, let me finish.” She nods, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth; he licks his own teeth at the sight. “I’d like to buy you some things; make this place a bit…homier.”

Her thigh twitches against his, and his fingers grip her ever so slightly, threatening worse; she doesn’t know if he’s even aware he’s doing it. She rests her hands on his forearms, hoping to remind him how fragile she is compared to his strength. “I…appreciate it, Homelander, but…why?”

He laughs, almost a scoff. “Isn’t it obvious?” Her silence tells him it’s apparently not, and he pokes his tongue into his cheek awkwardly; like he’s frustrated that he needs to spell it out. “I’ll be spending a lot more time here, now that you and I are friends.”

“Friends,” she echos, very aware of her position on his lap, and the growing firmness beneath her.

“Well,” he licks his teeth, grinning like the cat who caught the mouse. “A bit more than friends, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes Homelander.” She nods frantically, eager to agree with him.

“Good,” he growls, leaning in a bit to fast to press his lips into hers, almost bruising.

Her hands move up to cup his cheeks, her chest tightening with excitement as his tongue slides along her bottom lip, arms forcing her down against his growing erection still trapped beneath the brilliant blue of his suit.

He shudders when her thumbs stroke his face tenderly, her warm mouth inviting him in. His senses came alive with the excitement of her body, a far cry from Stillwell’s carefully manufactured lust. This is what a truly eager woman looks like, feels like; eager to please him and to let him please her. Fuck Vought, and fuck the leash they had kept him on. He moans into her mouth as she tugs at the hem of his pants expectantly; drunk on the idea of keeping her his little secret, his slice of Heaven Vought can’t touch.

He sits up a bit, helping her pull his pants down past his knees. She settles onto her own knees in front of him, hands stroking his thighs as she gazes up at him with those gorgeous eyes. “May I?”

He grins, tucking her hair behind her ear, ever the gentleman. “By all means.”

She presses a warm kiss to his palm before leaning in, close enough for him to feel her hot breath on his cock. Smiling at him when it twitches in response, she wastes no time taking the head into her mouth; warm and wet and his. A deep groan claws its way up his throat as his fingertips move to stroke her neck affectionately. “So warm,” he praises, and she moans around his cock appreciatively; the vibrations coming up from her throat hitching his breath.

Speaking of which, she manages the head of his cock into the back of her throat, with only a little gagging. He throws his head back over the edge of the couch, savoring the sensation as he takes a fistful of her hair. She gags and sputters as he forces her head up and down on his cock, but he doesn’t let her up until she desperately taps at his thigh. She sucks in a deep breath and grins, her hand wrapping around his cock to stroke him while she catches her breath. How considerate.

“That was a close one,” she hisses, flicking her tongue out at the sensitive head while she continues to stroke him. “Nice to see that your cock matches the rest of you.”

“How’s that?” He asks, not really caring so long as she keeps stroking him.

“Perfect,” she praises, causing him to buck up into her hand. “Perfect,” she repeats. “And strong…proud.” She flattens her hot tongue against like head like she’s licking an icecream, driving him wild with the hunger in her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here with me?”

He freezes, and for a moment she thinks she’s said the wrong thing, until in the blink of an eye their positions are switched, and his fingers are tugging at her panties beneath her black dress and apron. She shudders, shock at the sudden movement and lust for the darkness in his blue eyes.

“I’ll show you what I’m doing here,” he growls, savoring the moment as he slides her panties down her legs agonizingly slow.

His breath is hot and heavy against her inner thighs, and he sinks his perfect teeth into the soft flesh, marking her, although he has no intention of ever letting anyone else get this good a view of her thighs again. She hisses, but the need in her eyes and her parted lips as she watches him expectantly tell him she enjoyed it.

He slips two fingers into her easily, and pulls them out to show her. “Look how wet you are for me already, it’s a little pathetic, really,” he teases.

“I’ve got the Most Powerful Man in the World between my thighs, how could I not be wet?”

“For me,” he growls, demanding that extra clarification, hungry for her praise.

“For you.”

He rewards her by slipping his fingers back inside of her, his thumb circling her clit firmly, though careful not to hurt her; she stifles a moan by biting her lip. “There you go.”

Honestly, she’d have never expected this. His TV persona made him seem like one of those celebrities who thinks eating pussy is beneath him, but here now, with his face buried between her thighs like he’s desperate for her, for her praise, his fakey persona is dead and gone.

“God you’re so good!” she whines; preferring to savor rather than speak, but relishing the way her words invigorate him.

“Tell me what a good job I’m doing,” he pants against her pussy, face wet from her juices.

“No other man will ever satisfy me again,” she moans, bucking her hips into his face to encourage him to put his tongue back on her clit. “You spoiled me.”

She hisses when his fingers curl inside of her, stimulating that most sensitive spot until tears prick at her eyes and she hits her orgasm hard, her juices trickling over his wrist. He sits up, crawling over her to stare into her eyes as his thumb continues to assault her clit, dragging her orgasm into overstimulation.

“Homelander!” She begs, trying to squirm away from him to no avail, pushed into a second orgasm as he presses his forehead against hers.

“No other man is ever going to touch you like this.” It’s spoken as a fact more than a boast, and it sends a shiver of thrill up her spine. She breathes a sigh of relief as his thumb slows, giving her a short respite from the too-intense pleasure.

She’s trying to catch her breath, relaxing in a haze with her head thrown back into the couch, but he expects a response. His hand comes up to catch her face, chin held gently between his thumb and fingers to make her hold his gaze. “I want you to say it.”

“No other man is ever going to touch me like you,” she whimpers.

“Good,” he says casually, wiping his hand on her apron. “Good.”

“Homelander,” she whines urgently, her hands cupping his face adoringly.

“Yes, darling?” He does his best to sound charming, but he’s caught up in the tenderness of her hands on him, his own heart skipping a beat at the adoration in her eyes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

His face splits into a wide grin. He leans in close enough to kiss her, but when she tries to bridge the gap he leans back a tad with an amused scoff. “Well aren’t we greedy?”

Her thumb strokes his lip gentle as she looks at him desperately. “Please Homelander,” she begs. “I want to make you cum.”

He chokes up a bit, the tenderness of her touch and her preoccupation even in her own orgasmic stupor with his pleasure stirring something deep within him. He scoops her up into his arms, carrying her into what he assumes correctly is the bedroom. He sets her down gently, pulling off her clothes so that she’s bare before him, his eyes heavy on her gorgeous breasts.

“Take your shirt off,” she demands, dragging him out of his trance. “I want to feel your body against mine.”

For once, he listens, absolutely no hesitation as the top of his suit is flung to the floor. He wastes no time crawling over her like a wild animal, desperate to feel her lips against his. She presses back hard against his lips, and he obliges, knowing he’ll bruise her, but not caring in the moment; too lost in the genuine affection he’s craved for far too long.

“You’re perfect,” she exhales against his lips, feeling his hard cock drag against her thigh.

“Tell me again,” he urges, pressing kisses to her hair, trailing down her neck.

“You’re Perfect,” she obliges, thighs shaking a bit with anticipation as she feels the head of his cock tease her entrance.

They moan into each other’s mouths as he rocks into her, the wetness of her post-orgasm cunt taking him easily, like she was made for him. He kisses her deeply before pulling away, thrusting his hips against hers at an easy pace as he leans up to get a better look at her tits, gorgeous nipples taught and on display for him and only him. She’s perfect, he thinks, but doesn’t say, before taking a breast into his hot mouth, kneeding the other with a firm hand. She bucks her hips against his; pleasure building in her body.

His hand snakes down to rub her clit, causing her pussy to clench around him. “You’re so good, Homelander,” she moans.

“How good?” His voice comes out undignified, all but begging, as he edges toward his own release, desperate to take her with him.

“The best,” she squeals, trying to push his hand away to no avail when the pleasure becomes to much.

“You’re so right,” he groans, relishing her whimpers. “I’m the fucking Homelander and I’m the best you’ll ever have!”

He’s panting, rutting into her like a wild animal as she screams in a final orgasm of her own, dragging him along with her. He doesn’t pull out; coming hard into her and continuing to fuck her until his dick starts to go soft. If it bothered her, she’s too sex messed to say anything about it.

Good, he thinks. He has absolutely no intention of letting her slip from his grasp, and if he gets her pregnant? Well, all the more justification to keep her to himself.

He kisses her hair, pulling her face into his chest, encouraging her to snuggle into him. She does. “I’ll be staying for breakfast,” he tells her, as if it’s a matter of fact. “I like chocolate chips in my pancakes.”

#homelander #the boys homelander #mypost #homelander the boys #homelander x reader #homelander fanfic #Yes it’s Hughie who stood you up #smut

[sugarwithtea]

kissing under the mistletoe | jjk

pairing : coworker!jungkook x reader

rating/genre : pg-15 // fluff, angst, frenemies to lovers, coworker au

summary : 'tis the season to be jolly, but one certain doe-eyed person is hell bent on not letting you have anything jolly. wait till you find out how you are the only one he wants. alternatively : jungkook, your ass coworker (with a great ass)likes to annoy you so you can give him some of your time.

word count : 13.9k

warnings : swearing, like 2 pov switches? but reader is always in second person so yes, one flashback scene, mentions of the passing of a grandparent, beginnings of a panic attack, nyctophobia, kissing. not too christmasy tbh, cuz i know nothing about how christmas parties work! also yoongi plays two roles -- the asshole and the wingman, so everyone say thankyou yoongi!!

note 1 : this gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta and is for @apotatomashedbybts !! surprise, i am your secret santa! you already know it from the preview i posted but still haha! i hope u like this small lil thing i came up with!

note 2 : a big thanks to @oddinary4bts for beta-ing this! thanks for saving my ass ella!! i am sorry for putting you through the struggle of editting my word vomit haha! thankyou sm!! also, merry christmas! i am a whole decade late yes! -- also, please reblog if you read/like this!

read on ao3

what was i listening to? (a bollywood playlist)

moodboard | masterlist | taglist

You could kiss the person who made coffee for the first time on their mouth – dead or alive.

Walking out in the morning sun is a hellish task you have to do every morning, especially when it only leads you to entering your work building with a scowl and squinted eyes.

The only sight which makes your mornings pleasant is the lounged form of a certain Min Yoongi, right in front of your desk, eyes lazily raking over his surroundings – as if he'd be out the first chance he gets.

To be honest, you would too.

Especially when a guy who has sworn his job is to make your life hell strides in front of you, blocking your magnificent view of the one and only Min Yoongi, and smiles brightly at you – as if he is the only light source in the room.

"Hey." Jungkook perks up and you scowl at him. A way of you greeting him. Which he knows too well because the next second he rolls his eyes and turns back, leaning against your desk, now also staring at Min Yoongi.

"What do you want, Jeon?"

"What do you think he is thinking about?" his eyes squint more as he observes Yoongi more attentively.

"How there are people who have nothing better to do except think about other people's thoughts?" You should praise yourself for speaking a whole sentence before completing your cup of coffee.

"Cute. But that's my job." He whips his head back and looks down at you with a lazy grin, an eyebrow cocked and piercings glinting in the light.

Oh how you'd like to kiss that grin off his face.

Wait, no.

You shake your head.

"You are a graphic designer."

He tsks, "That's part time."

You roll your eyes and get back to setting up your desk for the day. If you knew Jungkook (which you do by now), he isn't going to move from here unless he is satisfied that your day had a hellish start. Well, jokes on him, cause your morning was hell even before you met him.

"What do you even find that interesting in him?"

Sigh. He is still staring at Min Yoongi.

"He is a treat for my sore eyes."

He perks up at your answer and turns fully towards you, leaning over your desk so his face is closer to yours, with an excited grin and a gleam in his eyes. A gleam which tells you his next question even before he opens his mouth-

"And me?"

"You are the cause of my sore eyes", you say with a sickly sweet smile that makes his smile drop.

The next time you run into Jungkook, it's during lunch break.

"Did you hear about the party?" your coworker Mina asks you as you both settle down on a table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

"What party?"

"The Christmas party, Y/N. I heard this time they are gonna hang more mistletoes than necessary", she snickers and you groan as you take a big bite of your sandwich.

"I don- weawy wanna see em soggin", you say through a full mouth and furrow your eyebrows as the chair beside you scrapes on the tile.

"Where are your manners, you little girl?" Jungkook teases as he settles down beside you.

You gulp your bite as quickly as you can.

"And where is your decency, you idiot?"

"I need to be decent to talk to you?" he asks as he shoves a spoonful of fried rice in his mouth, not looking at you.

"That too. And also, you need to ask me before you sit down at my table."

"Mina said yes." You look at her to see her smiling at both of you, like your mother would if you told her you were going to finally marry someone good.

Fucking traitor.

You play around with your food as Mina and Jungkook converse rather dramatically, with his hand repeatedly coming in front of your face as you hit it away. It's not that you hate him – you just cannot stand him.

The first day you walked into the office, he was there to greet you with a bunny smile and a cutting jawline. God, the contrast in his looks. He was donning a simple button down and slacks, rather decent for work. But what was not decent, was the way his thighs filled the slacks and made it look like he was sculpted by a god. You had to clamp your mouth shut to stop yourself from spewing indecencies when you roved your eyes over his figure.

His eyes were crinkling around the edges as he smiled at you and welcomed you with a warm, airy voice. You were, of course, glad to have been shown to your desk and around the office space by him. And your smile was giddy like a teenager's when he asked you to join him for lunch break at the end of the week.

But after that week started an endless saga of constant bickering and pulling each other's legs. Your little crush on him was soon forgotten by you as your daily smile was replaced by an etching scowl.

It was quick for you to find out how competitive he is, and how strongly he stands his ground – how fucking opinionated he is about matters concerning the office. Almost all your meetings end with him looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes at having convinced your boss to do his bidding.

Never has he once said anything malicious to you, but you are fed up with him having his way. So much so that when last month he didn't oppose your ideas in the conference room, you walked up to him and asked if he was drunk or feeling sick. He had just rolled his eyes and went about with his day, but after that you had warmed up to him a little bit.

Still, he never fails to show you how annoying he can be – just like he is being right now.

"What? Are you thinking about going with me?" his voice breaks you out of your reverie.

"Hmm. With Min." Oh how you love to see the way his smile turns sour. It doesn't fall though.

"I heard he is single this year." Mina hums out.

That's when his smile threatens to fall, but Jeon Jungkook has mastered the game of schooling his expressions into neutrality.

"Interesting", he says and turns away from you.

Your eyes twinkle with mischief as Mina recounts the tale of Min Yoongi's infamous breakup – how his latest partner walked into the office on a damned Friday and gently, but dramatically broke up with him. Yoongi had seemed unaffected because of course that's him and almost everyone who knows him knew that he was not looking for anything serious.

Still, he had felt a little embarrassed. So much for not getting people's attention. But the way his eyes had swept across the room after she had left made everyone cower back to their work, as they held a clear message – 'I dare you to talk about this anytime soon.'

No one had been stupid enough to go against him, not even Jungkook, who had been away that fateful day, nearly a month ago. So now, Mina is filling him up on the details in hushed whispers.

"Lord!" he exclaims once she ends her retelling of the legend – at least the latest gossip for your department.

"You think you'll be able to woo him? Miss 'treat for my eyes'?"

"Sore eyes", you correct him and he grimaces as you continue, "And watch me, Jeon. Don't cry when he asks me out to be his date for the party."

Min Yoongi didn't ask you out for the party.

You had to beg him to be his date.

One can say that you and him are on friendly terms. The 'I am your friend only if you buy me coffee for a week' kind of friendly. He agreed to be your date at the party after you bribed him, of course. But not before he analyzed and heard each and every angle of your reason.

Now the thing is, Min Yoongi can be an asshole if he wants.

And when he heard that your main motive is to spite a man who has been annoying you, he agreed without hesitation. He loves to rile people up, especially men who fall in the same spectrum as his – assholes.

He doesn't personally know Jungkook, but he heard your version of the story. And his reply was,"I sympathize with the man," as you flicked his forehead and swiped his coffee away from him. But one thing he knows,: for you, Jeon Jungkook is an asshole. And oh how he'd love to see drama and some shit go down at the ever so boring Christmas party. So, he agreed.

"He- What?" Mina gasps as you peel open a banana in the break room.

"Yup." Her eyes can't be bigger than this.

"He asked you out?"

"Uh huh."

"Ha. I don't fucking believe you." She points her unpeeled banana towards you and scoffs.

You roll your eyes,"Ask him then."

Telling her that is a mistake because as soon as you both walk out of the break room after finishing your snack, her eyes fall on Yoongi lounging at his desk (8 meters away) and she calls out his name – gathering the attention of every living being in the room, even Jungkook.

Oh how you want to yeet yourself out of the first window you see. Maybe the 12 floor fall will be more bearable than the embarrassment this lady is going to cause you.

"You are going to the Christmas party with…" she trails off.

Yoongi's eyes flicker to hers lazily, as if she is asking him if he works here or not. And maybe, talking is a big task for him because he just nods his head in your direction. Basically informing everyone and their mother that he is going with you, and then he turns back to his computer – without saying your name.

You wouldn't be surprised if he might have forgotten it.

As soon as everyone registers his gesture, audible gasps sound throughout the room, and you turn in time to see Jungkook standing at his desk with his eyes as wide as saucers and jaw almost touching the ground.

You give him a triumphant smirk and turn around to go to your desk.

And totally miss the way he crumples the small pink note in his hand and throws it in the trash.

The coffee shop where you usually get your morning coffee is closed today. The office coffee machine is broken today.

And you are a second away from unleashing your rage on everyone.

As you return to your desk from the break room, you catch Jungkook lurking around your desk, nervously biting his lip and glancing towards the door. God, if he is again here to bother you as he does every morning, you are going to punch a bitch in the face. Because ain't no way you have the patience you always have.

"Jungkook", you sigh as you reach your desk.

"Before you say anything, I just want to say I am sorry", he interrupts you and stands straighter.

"For what?"

"Aaaaand have a good day", he ignores your question and immediately darts away, as if you are the plague and he has to avoid you.

And did he just wish you a good day? Weird.

What's more weird though is the cup of coffee sitting at your desk.

Beside your computer sits a steaming cup of coffee, with the letters 'JK' written on it. Did he forget his coffee at your desk? Is this another bitter – pun intended – reminder that you haven't yet had your coffee? Because you didn't need one.

You pick up the cup to head back to his desk when you see a small note previously hidden by the cup. It is a white slip of paper, torn haphazardly. You would have mistook it for some stray paper had you not seen the ink gracing the white.

'The coffee shop was closed and someone broke the machine. Have a good day - JK :-)

p.s. I am sorry if I messed up your coffee.'

Oh. Uh Oh.

He bought coffee for you? He went out of his way to bring a cup for you? He kept it in mind that your day was ought to be shitty if you didn't have a cup of coffee and he tried to resolve it? And this was what he was sorry for?

You can't even think straight at this moment. You take your seat and eye the cup of coffee as if it asked you for your first born. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence – well that would be too much – brought you coffee. Maybe this is not something to mull over for this long, but that's you. And if Jungkook's part time job is thinking about other people's thoughts, then yours is thinking about yours – overthinking.

The only good thing he has ever done for you is holding the door open a few times. And you nodded at him with a smile then, setting aside your differences for a mere moment.

Now how are you meant to be a bitch to him if he acts like this? Suddenly the sweet coworker.

You mindlessly take a sip and your mind calms down a little bit, but still racing. He hasn't messed up your coffee. It is the perfect cup of Americano with one sugar, no more, no less. Fuck. He knows this too? You don't know his coffee order. Great. Now you feel sad for not having that trivial piece of information.

On the other hand your heart gets a little soft for him. Even though in a way, it always was. Or else you wouldn't have tolerated a person this long. Somewhere along the way, you have grown fond of the bickering between the two of you, the words passed in pure frustration. You have grown fond of him. God, how embarrassing. But maybe you can live with it.

You need to thank him the first chance you get. And try to be civil with him.

"He has a girlfriend? Since when?"

"I don't know. I think she is more of a friend accompanying him to the party." Mina says and rolls her eyes as you walk beside her on your way back to your car.

The whole day has flown by in a breeze and this time, you didn't get the chance to cross paths with Jungkook. You wanted to thank him for what he did in the morning, but the one time you willingly want to see him, he is out of sight.

"How would you know that? Maybe she is his girlfriend. I mean he did leave in a haste today when a girl called him."

"She could be anyone," she argues and you shake your head with a laugh.

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"Cause just a day ago he said-" she stops and unlocks her car, even though she didn't need to stop.

"He said what?"

Mina doesn't look at you while answering, shaking her head a little with a voice lower than before.

"That he is single, Y/N."

Huh. That doesn't mean he doesn't have a girlfriend now. A lot can happen in a day, you know that – especially now. But you don't say that to her as she is already getting inside her car, bidding you goodbye and sending you off.

You don't pay any mind to her and get into your car, already heading home.

Your mind races faster than air as you grip the wheel tighter. You don't even know why you are so bothered that Jungkook might have a girlfriend. He has always had some kind of flings going on, but for him to bring someone to an office party? That's a first. If he is bringing someone then maybe they are important for him, maybe it's serious with them.

Your stomach drops as you realize that maybe he lied to Mina about his relationship status because he wanted to give everyone a surprise? After all, it's been a long time since Jeon Jungkook had a serious girlfriend.

You really hope that's not the case. And you don't know why you hope so? Why the fuck do you care if Jungkook has a partner or not? You want to smash your head against the steering wheel with the amount of thoughts that plague your mind.

'Is she even his real girlfriend? Or he just wants to flaunt the fact that he can get anyone he wants?'

Now why did you think that? And what's with you accepting the fact that he can get anyone he wants? Well, he can. But, why would you think that?

You feel like you're being double-sided given that you are going to the party with someone. But that's not to make him jealous. It's to annoy him, because he thinks Min Yoongi is out of your league. Then why do you think that Jungkook is doing this to come back at you? Insane of you to even speculate something so ridiculous.

You shake your head as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment.

You feel like you are obsessed with him – which you are not. You are just thinking about general things like why would he have a partner, possibly in a serious relationship – in the same way one thinks about things like today's weather, right? Yes absolutely.

Way to gaslight yourself.

Has anyone ever said that normally when you think about something a lot, you start seeing it everywhere? Or like, the first thing you see in the morning?

Because why, as you are entering the lobby of your office building on a fresh Monday after the coffee fiasco, are you seeing Jungkook beside the elevator? He normally comes in way earlier than this. What did you do to deserve meeting him first thing in the morning?

As you near him, you realize he looks a bit tired. His eyes are sullen, with dark bags underneath them, his shoulders drooping and hair frayed over his forehead, looking very unkempt.

Your footsteps catch his attention and he whips his head towards you, surprisingly managing a weak smile and you immediately return the gesture, not thinking for a second. You nod at him, wordlessly, and stand beside him, waiting for the elevator to come from God knows what floor.

Okay. This feels like a perfect time to thank him. He could work with an ego boost, as you are in no way going to ask him why he is down – not sending any snarky greetings, or stupid questions your way. Kind of weird for the both of you to stand there in complete silence.

"Jungkook", you call out and he slowly turns his head towards you, answering with a hum.

"Thank you for the coffee that day." He smiles at this and you internally chide yourself.

"Ah. Did I get the order correct?"

"Yes. Yes you did. I wanted to thank you the same day but you left quite early so … " you trail off as he almost drops his smile, trying hard to keep the curve of his lips intact and in his cheeks, rather than dropping them. You can very well see the struggle he has to go through to stay cool and composed.

"Yeah. It was an emergency."

Oh.

So it was not some girlfriend of his? Why did you think so? Oh my god. And, it was an emergency. Shit. You mentally slap yourself for even trying to play the whole thing off very lightly.

The lift arrives that very moment and you both step inside, him sulking again.

"If you don't mind me asking, is everything okay?"

He looks at you, trying to come up with an answer, finally settling to go with the truth.

"Not really, I mean. My grandmother passed away."

You take in a sharp breath and that's exactly when the door closes. Oh. My. God. Y/N you absolute fucking idiot. You could bang your head against the wall for your stupidity and absolutely wrong judgment.

"I am so sorry. I-" you pause and he looks at you," I won't say I understand, cause I don't. But I hope you are okay?" Stupid of you to end your assurance like this. Didn't he just now say that everything is not okay?

He looks at you, speechless but with a gracious smile. You should do some damage repair over here. Of course, as you said, you don't understand the pain of losing a grandparent because you have never even met yours, already passed away before your birth. But, you know it can be very painful. And given Jungkook's current state, your heart aches to stand there doing nothing while he struggles to not break down.

"Can, can I hug you?" you ask meekly and he suddenly whips his head towards you, so you rush to explain yourself, "I am not good with words but I … " you trail off and look down, biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Nuh huh. Not a good idea. Even if he is in grave misery, why would he hug you? Who are you, his friend? Ha, as if. Maybe you should take the offer back and not embarrass yourself further. Yes, that could work.

You look up to tell him it's okay but what happens next makes you go completely stiff.

He hugs you.

His warmth envelopes you as he slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in – albeit hesitantly, but still. Your hands fall limp by your side as your head finds solace on his chest. Remembering that you were the one who proposed a hug, and completely ignoring the feeling arising in your stomach, you wrap your hands around his torso, patting his back.

As soon as you reciprocate his touch, he audibly sighs and places his cheek on your head, holding you tighter. It's as if his grief evaporates a bit, the warmth from you forming a case around him. You think you hear him smile, but then again, you cannot hear a smile.

You stop patting his back and hold him tight, snuggling into his chest unintentionally. He holds your head to his heart and you can hear it beat wildly fast – maybe yours is in the same state. But you're glad he can't hear yours.

'Don't let yourself slip, Y/N.' you think because this is uncharted territory. With his body pressed up against yours and his sadness seeping into you, you don't know how you feel anymore. Is this you melting for him? Yes, you won't lie to yourself anymore. It's high time now. Especially with the way he fits into you, so perfectly – like a jigsaw piece fitting into the tiniest crevices of a puzzle. It's ridiculous how you came to this.

A small thank you is mumbled into your hair and you think he sniffs your hair before you both part, slowly, longingly. He stares into your eyes with hints of tears lining his eyes and your heart breaks a little. But when he smiles with all his will and shine, you think maybe you can look at it every second of your life.

The elevator dings and the door opens as you hastily pull apart from him, patting your hair and wringing your fingers through the unkempt strands. You had forgotten that you were in an elevator. That's when you realize that you might have hugged for what, like a few seconds? But the moment felt like it was stretched for minutes and hours of comfort.

Both of you step out of the elevator and walk side by side, albeit at a distance, and silently to your desks. Why can't you calm the fuck down? It was just a hug. And he just happened to be a bit vulnerable. God. Not a good sign for your feelings.

You are still disheveled by the time you reach your desk. To your surprise, he stops there for a moment longer than you might have expected, and looks at you with a small, soft, knowing smile.

"Thank you." he says quietly.

You chuckle.

"You already said that."

"I know, but still. Thank you, for everything." He nods, smiles and disappears in a flash, not even waiting for your reply.

What does he mean by everything?

Wow. Now you have one more thing to overthink about.

The day is slowly bleeding into night, the moon already visible as you make your way to the cab, pulling your coat tight against your shivering body. The cold is terrible, and more so is your mood.

You aren't exactly looking forward to the Christmas party, now knowing that Jungkook is bringing someone. Also, your main motive to go with Min Yoongi was to rile Jungkook up. But now, you don't necessarily want to annoy him – especially after the small moment you had a few days ago in the elevator. You have had a lot of time to think since then, and you know what you feel. You aren't going to lie to yourself anymore. It isn't as if you are going with Yoongi for your personal desires. Well, not anymore.

Of course, you are a little bit attracted to Min Yoongi. But that is just to give your eyes some sort of relief during the stressful work hours. He is like an insignificant celebrity crush. And, you know he is a bigger asshole than you and Jungkook combined.

So now, you are miserably waiting for him below your office building, after your cab drops you off. Usually, he is always on time. But also, he doesn't usually go to parties with you. For all you know he must be stalling to make you wait for him – just because he can.

A moment later, a cab pulls up right beside you and out steps the man you want to strangle with your bitter cold hands which could spear icicles through his throat. Also, how can he look so much better than you? Wearing a monochrome shirt tucked into black slacks, with hair parted in the middle and.. Did he dye them blonde? Yes. Oh god, he did. Why does he look so good that it makes you wanna kill him more?

"Where the fuck were you?"

"Taking my sweet time getting ready for you, sweetheart." You gag at this and quickly step inside the lobby, making a beeline for the elevator, which fortunately, you don't have to wait for. Now that you think about it, you could've waited for this asshole inside the lobby. Huh. Whatever.

You almost let the door close on him but he wiggles his way inside with a grunt. Jesus.

"We are meant to be each other's date for tonight", he reminds you.

"Unfortunately. But I know that."

At this he raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

"You were the one who begged me to go with you. Don't act all snippy now."

He is right. Your mood is bad, but that doesn't mean you can act like a complete dick. He hasn't done anything to annoy you, yet.

"Sorry."

Thankfully he doesn't reply back, sensing your snarky mood and just nods at your weak ass apology.

The elevator opens to a complete ruckus. There are people bustling around the hallway leading up to the glass doors behind which there is more chaos. The top floor of your office building is luxurious and pristinely decorated, with high ceilings and sleek marble flooring. The party's decorations are subtle, with a christmas tree and multiple lights. But one thing that catches everyone's eye is the unusual amount of mistletoes.

They are literally everywhere. At the entrance, hanging on a string of fairy lights over the open bar, propped over the dance floor, in the hallway leading to the restrooms. Everywhere. There might be more but your vision is not so keen on finding them.

You walk with Yoongi by your side, none of you touching the other (why would you?) when you spot Mina at the bar. Of course. Whenever you need her, she'll be getting absolutely wasted. You walk up to her, Yoongi surprisingly keeping up with you and you call her out.

"Hey. You came alone?" She has a partner and they have been together for more than two years. They have attended almost all parties together but today she is alone, drinking her time away.

"Cyan has gone to their parent's house. It's been a while since they visited," You smile at that. It's true. They have been around for almost everything. You are glad they finally get to visit their family this holiday,"But that means that I feel so fucking alone right now." Mina completes with a whine and gulps her drink down.

You coo at that and stand behind her, draping your arms around her shoulder and bringing her near you.

"Don't worry. You have us to give you company." You say and look at Yoongi hopefully who just grunts as a response.

"I mean, you have me, at least."

She laughs and shakes her head.

"I don't expect anyone, Y/N. Go and enjoy. If you need me sometime, you'll find me getting shitfaced over here."

"Enjoy with who? Yoongi?" You laugh and stand back, rolling your eyes. You have only one friend at your workplace. And she wants to drown in her misery with whiskey. A concerning amount of whiskey. She flags the bartender to get another drink and you try to ask her to cut it down a little when Yoongi moves way too close to you.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you in a little. You gasp and look at Mina who is not paying attention and then hit his arm lightly.

"What are you doing?" You whisper, yell at him and he grins.

"You know, I like annoying people."

"Tell me something I don't already know. And don't try to annoy me." He moves you a little away from the bar and near the dance floor, still holding onto you.

"Hmm. Not you." He hums out and you furrow your eyebrows questioningly. At that he rolls his eyes and dips his head to your ear as you go completely still. "3 o'clock to your left. Don't look directly."

You do look directly. And see Jungkook at the far end leaning against the wall with his jaw clenched, hands in his pocket, and looking directly at you. Your breath hitches a little at his sight. You quickly move your head to Yoongi again and look at him, absolutely enjoying your state.

"I'm loving how Jeon is absolutely burning right now." He grins and you have the urge to strangle him right then and there.

"Also," He begins and pulls you closer, simultaneously leading you both a little more towards the dance floor,"did you notice that we both are matching? Coincidentally of course."

You widen your eyes in realization. Why is your luck like this? Of all people, you match with Min fucking Yoongi. Mindlessly your eyes go down to your outfit, a black fitted dress that goes to your ankles with a white strap running across your waist, and a sweetheart neckline, you realize he is right. Your monochromatic dress matches with his outfit. Ugh.

On the other hand, Jungkook is wearing a khaki leather shirt and black fitted slacks which accentuate his … everything. His hair is swept back showing his forehead and his piercings just add to the appeal, gleaming under the Christmas lights. You can climb him like a tree.

You don't look at him again though. His look is very much imprinted in your mind. Yoongi, that fucker, grins again at your miserable state and you hate that he loves this so much.

"He is jealous, oh my god." You don't pay any mind to him and sway a little to the music. Because there's no way Jungkook is jealous. Now that you think about it, why is he alone? Hasn't Mina said that he was going to come with someone else?

"He is … alone?" You mumble distractedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Are you going to ask everyone the same question?" He says referring to the question you asked Mina.

"No. I mean, he was going to come with someone."

"But he hasn't." Yoongi says slowly as he takes your hand and twirls you in a circle, dancing along with you.

To anyone who is watching you two, it might seem that you are engaging in a slow peaceful dance, and conversing with grins decorating your face. Because even in your confused state, your face reflects a hint of mirth, and Yoongi is already sporting a lopsided grin.

But it's not the truth. It's basically your mind racing a million miles an hour and Yoongi teasing you to his heart's content. The whispers between you two can easily fool anyone, even Mina who you see staring at you like a bee stung her. It is comical, the look on her face. You'll have to explain the whole mess to her later. Cause why are you dancing with Min Yoongi so lovingly? As if he hung the stars in your sky.

He raises his eyebrows at you and tips his head towards the dance floor, finally. You were wondering how long it would take for him to ask you there. You roll your eyes and he tugs you to the elevated center, just when the song switches to a slow, piano version of 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'. Oh what perfect timing.

"So, you heard me?" He asks when you place your arms around his neck, and sway with him slowly.

"I did. I am just thinking." He gasps at this.

"Since when?" And you hit his arm, mumbling a word your mom wouldn't be too glad hearing you speak – even if you are a 26 year old woman.

"In all honesty, though. He is a goner for you." He shakes his head as if it is as obvious as day.

"What?"

"Are you fucking blind? He is in love with you. No no, he has been in love with you, for so fucking long." He laughs and twirls you again.

"Yoongi, don't." You warn him. What the actual fuck?

"I know we are not friends. But I know a lovesick guy when I see one. And Jeon is just that." You furrow your eyebrows at that, and mindlessly, your eyes flit to the form of Jungkook completely seething at the opposite wall. Oh my god, he might just break the glass (which he picked up god knows when) from his tight grip on it.

Your stomach dips at the realization that he really does look jealous. Hellishly jealous of Yoongi. Because his stare is burning holes in his back but Yoongi, the ever asshole, is enjoying it.

"Also, later, when he asks you, tell him I'm gonna go home with that DJ guy." Yoongi's quiet voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

"I am not gonna fuck that DJ guy."

"Idiot. I," He takes his hand off your waist and points to himself,"I am gonna fuck him. You are gonna fuck him." He tips his head in Jungkook's direction and your face heats up.

"Why would he ask that?" You grumble and look away.

"Oh you know he will." You do know. Of course. If he really is jealous right now, and if he really does like (love) you how Yoongi is saying, he will definitely ask that.

The rest of the song plays on and you both move in silence, which gives you plenty of time to think. One, you like him. It's not rocket science to conclude that you are head over heels for him. You don't think you love him – but is there a light? Yes. And that scares and thrills you at the same time. Also, Yoongi? Jungkook loves you? You'd be an absolute fool to agree with whatever Min has to say, but the possibility makes your inside warm and your heart race, all giddy and hopeful. No, you are not hopeful that he will love you. But, he likes you to this extent? Would you have ever thought?

'Stop it, Y/N. It's not good to think about what Min said and raise your hopes and then shatter them', you think and shake your head. Yoongi, obviously, catches this and quirks a brow at you, at the very moment when the song ends. You wave his curiosity off and get away from him, walking down the dance floor with him on your tail.

"Go and woo your DJ guy." You wink at him and he understands what you actually need, easily going away with a knowing smile that shows his gums.

All this time, while you were navigating through your thoughts, you have lost sight of Jungkook. So it's to your utter surprise that you find him sitting at the bar when you go there to get a drink, with his head hung low and staring into his empty glass.

He looks so sad, as if he is living alone in a barren world. Your heart almost reaches out to him but you stop yourself in time, and instead, quietly perch yourself on the empty stool beside his.

Your dress rustles a little and that catches his eye. He turns to look at you with downtrodden shoulders, and watches you order a drink. His eyes trace every motion of yours and you try your best to get your drink in your hand before looking towards him. You'll need it.

"We peasants owe this pleasure for what?" His smile is sweet, sickly. You take a sip of your drink and smack your lips.

"Jungkook." You sigh when he still has that painful smile on his lips.

"Where is Yoongi? Don't you wanna dance with him on another number?" he asks innocently but you know the mask very well now.

"Jungkook", you warn.

"What? Why are you sad? Didn't you want him? Now you have him." He chuckles and you scowl. "A treat for my sore eyes", He mocks you and you finally snap.

"What is your problem?"

"What is your problem?"

"You."

He stills at your comment and you are at your peak.

"You are my problem. Don't you understand this is so fucking messed up? We play cat and mouse without even a single word about what we feel. It's," you sigh,"it's so tiring. All we do is bicker like teenagers and then get offended when the other does something. Like, isn't it our motive to offend each other? To shove the other to the ground? I'm just confused and annoyed right now."

"It's not my motive to offend you."

You all but choke at that, and slam your drink down on the table, doubling down in fits of cough. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it and simultaneously Jungkook's goes to your back, patting and running soothing circles to calm you down.

"It's not my motive to offend you," His voice is calm, leveled,"But I don't know, everything I do seems to tick you off. It's like that brain of yours is a bomb and I am the trigger", he finishes and your coughs die down. You know you should think straight, be a person, act like an adult. But when he said your mind was fickle and implied that you were the problem, you surely didn't like it.

"Oh so now I am the problem?" you grumble and he sighs. You are being a bitch, you know that. You also know that you shouldn't have said this. He was genuinely trying to mend things with you. You don't wait for his answer and storm off. Nowadays when your brain goes haywire, you go away for a while to calm yourself down. Because you decide, the open bar at your office Christmas party is not the perfect place to have a showdown of 'Who can be the bigger asshole?' with Jungkook.

You need some time to think, gather your thoughts. Learn how to think with your brain and not like a bitch.

Jungkook fucked up.

So much for getting on your good side. What was he even thinking? He knows he always has to walk on eggshells around you. Then why couldn't he do it for one more night?

What was he thinking when he made that small little card to ask you out for the party? Fucking idiot, that's what he is. His head falls on the counter and he groans. He wants to flip this table.

He closes his eyes and sighs.

---

Jungkook is feeling cranky. He has been called earlier because someone new is joining today, and he is expected to be on his best behavior. He checks himself in the glass of the door which can open anytime soon. Even though blurry, his reflection is enough for him to know he looks presentable – which he was skeptical of, given that he has rolled out of bed and rushed to the office in less than forty-five minutes. Without coffee.

He decides he needs a cup of coffee before the new person comes in. Just so they don't think he isn’t an asshole, because he can be one without caffeine in his system.

His outfit is presentable and he is feeling good once he has a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Now this is the Jeon Jungkook he likes.

The door opens and Jungkook, leaning against the wall, lets a wide grin spread over his face, with his eyes crinkling and radiating warmth. Welcoming. He straightens up a little, hoping he doesn't weird you out by his teeth and slouch.

The first thing he sees as you step inside is your anxious face. Your features are twisted into nervousness, but there is excitement lurking in between those lines. Your eyes take everything in, but you are not scared. No, you are far from scared. With the black slacks and white button up that you don, paired with the sleekest high heels he has ever seen, your aura is dominating. It's a 'no nonsense' vibe. And even though you are nervous, because who isn't when it's the first day at their new job, you carry yourself with grace and confidence.

Your eyes scan the surroundings, and finally land on Jungkook. He notices that as soon as you see his smiling face, full of glee, some of your nervousness dissipates as your features relax. And even when your eyes were meek, Jungkook noticed one thing.

You are pretty. The kind that doesn’t let him take his off you. Not the gaudy, flashy kind. But then again, pretty can't be defined with another adjective – it's just that, pretty. The air you carry with yourself asks for people's attention, and the smile that graces your features then tells him that you never take that attention for granted.

Your smile is soft, and he wants to count the eyelashes that brush your cheek whenever you blink. Jeon Jungkook is not a man who would fall on his knees for a woman, especially before he even knows her name. So, he isn’t falling that deep, yet. But god do you intimidate him, even if you look kind.

"Hello, I am Y/N." Oh god. Your voice is sweet too. You have extended your hand and he quickly shakes it, trying not to linger.

"My dumbass didn't fix the wall clock and I forget I have other means to check the time. I am sorry for being late", you hastily explain and Jungkook wants to say it's okay, you are hardly late, but he is spellbound.

That day, he shows you around the office. Yes, he talks a lot. He also makes you laugh. And so, the smile on your face at the end of the day leads him to ask you to accompany him for lunch that weekend. You understood it as lunch in the break room and Jungkook didn't have the heart to correct you, trying to get anything he could.

At the end of the week, he knew he had an inkling of something for you. Something that made him giddy like a teenager.

---

Jungkook wonders how you both came to this. Maybe he knows. But he was never sure what annoyed you so much. He tried to be on his best behavior around you, but somehow it irked you.

Nevertheless, he continued to fall for you. So much that he had hope, that one day maybe you would not see him through the red fog of annoyance.

But feelings are a bitch. And so is someone else, because-

"Well, that was painful to watch." Min fucking Yoongi, he is a bitch.

"And who are you exactly helping by being here?" Jungkook returns without missing a beat, straightening up with a scowl on his face.

"Oh don't worry, Jeon. I don't help. Being kind does not fit my aesthetic", he quips back and settles on the stool you were on just a minute ago.

Jungkook groans when he realizes that Yoongi has no plans of going away soon. He turns back to his empty glass and almost slams his head down on the counter but thinks better.

"Min Yoongi, you are literally the last person I want to see right now."

"Trust me, I know." He quirks his head and sets Jungkook with a look that makes him want to-

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I have nothing better to do." Yoongi shrugs and Jungkook wills himself to not kill him.

A moment passes in which Yoongi stays quiet, surprisingly. Meanwhile, Jungkook turns around and his eyes scan the expanse of the room. He is trying to find you, of course. He had a thought of following you after you stormed off, but he knew better than to. After so long, he knows that when you need space, you should have space. Or else things can become ugly real soon.

He still thinks about the days when you happily chatted with him, didn't go away or shut yourself when he came near you or sat with you for lunch. He does have an idea that his overbearing nature and need to prove himself led you to stray away from him – after all, you had first seen him as a friend, and if he himself turned it into a competition, then you needed to go along with it.

The both of you are an odd case, but he loves it nonetheless. Loves how your face lights up whenever you achieve something, whenever you are happy. He loves how excited you get when you go on one of your mindless rants, not knowing that it's Jungkook who is listening to you, and your friend has stopped paying attention a long time ago. He loves the way you bring him comfort from whatever you do, loves the playful banter between you two. He loves everything about you.

Oh my god, he thinks. He needs to stop drinking. Or else god forbid he spews his thoughts out loud.

His heart sinks when he realizes you are nowhere to be found, at least in his line of sight.

"How lovesick can you be, Jeon?"

He warily turns his head to look at Min Yoongi. How can someone be so fucking frustrating?

"How stupid can you be, Min?" he asks and Yoongi snorts in his drink. He slowly swirls the amber liquid in his glass and grins.

"You know, you should tell her that you love her."

Jungkook stills. His hand that was straightening the collar of his shirt stops and he blinks. What did he say?

"What?"

"What? I said something?" Oh god. Who pays him to act like this?

Jungkook shakes his head, not able to say anything. Is it so clear? He doesn't even know Yoongi. Still, Yoongi can see through him and his stupor. Is he being so obvious? Jungkook's brain goes on an overdrive of questions. Do you know this? Is this why you are always running away from him? Do you, do you hate him so much? Oh god, he can't bear to think this. He immediately turns around to get another drink.

"Calm down, Jeon." Yoongi says, rather calmly.

"I am calm."

"Tell that to yourself." He snatches the drink as soon as it is placed in front of Jungkook, holding it at an arm's length.

"Min Yoongi I swear to god-"

"What? Idiot. See we don't know each other. And believe me, I love drama, especially during the holidays. But nothing goes on for this long. So suck it up and talk to her." He takes a sip from the drink Jungkook ordered for himself and shakes his head as if he is disappointed in him.

The look on his face makes Jungkook want to defend himself.

"I tried to talk to her. But evidently, my words are always wrong."

Yoongi sighs,"Jungkook, you know her better than I do. Take your time to think about the words, not your feelings." He stands up to leave and continues in an almost whisper, "Also, don't think that she hates you, or else you'll be surprised." Yoongi goes away as soon as he says this, without any kind of explanation or expressions, leaving behind a flabbergasted Jungkook.

Loving is not easy, or so Jungkook has heard. But with you, it is the easiest thing he has ever done. He fell for you like the leaves fall in autumn, slow and sure. He layed in your wake as you graced him with your presence. He is helpless, he is gone. He hopes you don't really hate him. Because, he doesn't know how much more of this heartburn he can endure.

Or else you'll be surprised

Yoongi's parting (not exactly parting) words echo in his mind. What does he mean by this? Jungkook wonders and wonders until he-

Oh my god, does this mean?

He needs to find you soon.

The lights in the ladies room are way too bright for your liking. You don't need to see your reflection so clearly in the mirror, especially when you feel so fucking guilty.

You feel like an asshole – maybe you are one. All this time you had been thinking about him, and his gestures which were oh so sweet. And when finally he tries to mend things with you, you snap. Like a teenager who doesn't know how to control all the new emotions they are feeling, you fucking snap. It was so childish of you to run away from him, from the situation like that.

The look on his face when you said that makes your heart ache. And it's not the joint ache or the pain you feel when you twist your ankle, no. It's like heartburn, the one that claws at your throat and chokes you. You literally gasp for air as tears pool in your eyes.

You are glad there is no one in the restroom when a stray tear makes its way on your cheek. (Finally your waterproof makeup is of use).

This is not you. Your reflection mocks you and you want to break the mirror. You are not like this. You don't hurt people, especially those who go out of their way to let you know that they care for you. You know no one else but you are to blame for this. Because when you look back at it, Jungkook has always tried to talk to you, and never rudely. He has always been playful, a little sarcastic with that gleam in his eyes.

You were already soft for him. Or else you wouldn't have kept up with him for this long. But at this point, you are completely putty, folding for him. It's pathetic. You are pathetic and you know that.

The hurt look on his face flashes behind your eyes as you close them, and you wince. You want nothing more than to hug him, to kiss him and say that he is not the problem. You want to assure him that he was never the problem, and you are not annoyed with him. You are annoyed with yourself.

It's ridiculous how quickly you go on a self-hating tangent when someone you lo- care for, is hurt by you. No, you need to stop, or else you'll be here for God knows how long.

You need to find Jeon Jungkook at the earliest.

You dry your eyes and wash your hands, (not your face because your life is not a movie) as you finally look at yourself in the mirror.

You can do this. You can speak your heart to him, and hope he doesn't run away.

Your first step outside the restroom is full of resolve, and directed towards one, and only one goal.

To find Jungkook.

The feeling that is rising in your heart is making you giddy, like a goddamn teenager. Even though guilt is hidden somewhere in the nooks and crannies of your emotions, the one that is visible is the same you feel right now. Your cheeks burn at the thought of what if?

This is pathetic. You are a twenty six year old, well experienced woman. Why are you blushing at your imaginations? Wait, no. Why are you imagining stuff? You need help. Better, you need him.

You cautiously move towards the bar again, hoping to find him still sitting there (very low chances), while also looking around for any chances of him not sitting there (not any, there are many).

But, as soon as you get away from the restroom, darkness spreads all around as the power suddenly cuts off. You can literally hear the power trip – so it's either someone messing or it's really an accident.

Audible gasps are heard from all around as people scramble to grasp the situation, and themselves. Your feet don't move as people rush all around you. You stay rooted in your place when your vision doesn't help you, at all. The lack of windows doesn't allow any kind of moonlight or streetlight to filter in, and it's absolute darkness.

You consider yourself to be brave, headstrong. But darkness is where you draw the line. It's nauseating. You feel like it's sticking to your body and creeping up your skin, making you want to shake yourself out of the daze. It scares you to no end, because you do not like creepy things.

Your mind tries to calm you, but it fails. Your feet try to move, but they fail. Your eyes try to adapt to the darkness, but again, they fail. You can feel the panic settling in your bones. You need something to ground yourself to. You count your breaths slowly and shake your fingers but the whispers and murmurs of people all around you makes you want to crouch down and shout with your hands on your ears. You need something. You need someone to-

"Y/N?"

That- Your neck almost breaks with the speed at which it turns towards the voice. The voice which you want, which you need.

"Jungkook", you sigh, but your voice is high pitched, scared. And as soon as you say his name, you are pulled into a hard, but comforting chest. You immediately wrap your hands around his torso and cling to him for your life. Like he is the only source that is letting you breathe and live.

He holds you close, tight, as if you will slip away if he lets you go. And maybe you will. Because you desperately need an anchor, and he is just the one for you. He invades your senses and that's when you feel like maybe you can breathe again.

You gasp for air as tears line your eyes. You hate the dark. It makes you see things you don't even want to know about.

"Shh. Hey, I am here. Don't worry", his voice breaks your dangerous train of thought and you sigh, nodding against his chest.

You try to control your breathing, slowly as your nails almost dig in his back. You feel like maybe you'll fall down, but the constant rhythm of his heart beating under your ear grounds you, and wills you to stay on your feet. You almost fucking melt in his arms when his lips touch your hair, and he mumbles calmly.

"Breathe, breathe with me. Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. Just stay with me, okay?" His voice is like honey, bleeding into your ears and giving you comfort. His breathing gets slow, to help you, and you mumble a small okay into his chest, with your eyes screwed shut.

You try to focus on the rhythmic movement of his chest, as it goes up and down with every inhale and exhale of his. Soon enough, your breathing matches his and your worry and panic deflate a big amount. You can finally feel yourself again. And the sudden realization of his scent invading your (now normal) breathing makes you soar in the clouds.

His heartbeat is faster, now that you notice. It's the same that you felt when you hugged him in the elevator. You mindlessly snuggle into his chest and his lips press against your head with more resolve.

"Hey, you okay there?"

That's when you realize.

He knew. He knew of your fear. He knew how you feel when you encounter the dark. And the way he pulled you in and comforted you just solidified the fact that he knew this information very well.

"You, you knew that I-" you gulp. You don't even need to speak for him to know your next words.

"I did." An assurance. Two words that tell you that he knows and will always know of the things that unsettle you. And he will always be there to bring you back to yourself, bring you back to him.

"How?"

"Does that matter? I am just glad that you are here with me." His arms around you hold you even tighter, and you want to say that you will always be there with him.

You smile with red, burning cheeks as you move your head and let your lips rest against his chest. You are so glad he can't see your goddamn blush, but you can swear you just felt the beat under you speed up.

"Thank you", you whisper quietly, but you know he heard it when he moves your head and dips down.

His lips touch your forehead and you still.

The action is so simple, yet it twists your heart in knots. Because, he kissed your forehead. Out of care, out of affection, out of adoration. It's so sweet that you want to die. Is this how you die? Overwhelmed by the simplest act of affection? You are glad it's him, because at this moment, you can't think of a better way to go.

He pulls away and looks down at you with concern in his big, doe eyes. You want to drown in them. You can't see his face properly, but you know the sight is breathtaking, you can feel it. You can see the outline of a strand of hair falling on his face, and you move a little away, breaking the hug to try to look at his whole face, when the lights suddenly switch on.

Brightness fills the room (brighter than before) and you step back, suddenly blinded by the intensity of the light. Your hand shields you as if you have just walked out in the sun, and maybe you have. Because Jungkook's glow is surely blinding you.

His eyes gleam softly, big and doe-like. He stares at you with what you can only make out as stars in his eyes. It's enthralling, the feeling that settles in the pit of your stomach. You don't even realize you were blatantly staring at him when loud cheers break you out of your reverie.

People all around are cheering a few couples who found themselves under the numerous mistletoes hung almost everywhere. You watch with amusement as a couple dives right into a makeout session as soon as they realize they have the opportunity, while a pair hesitates to even look at each other, just a few feet away.

A few painful seconds pass after which the crowd gives up on cheering them, because clearly, it's a lost cause. And clearly, you don't realize what you are doing till someone nudges your hand. You don't know who that person is, because they walk away as quickly as they came, shouting out a smug thing.

"You know, it's bad luck to not kiss."

It's what?

Jungkook gasps as he looks up and belatedly you both realize you have found yourself under a mistletoe. Under. A. Mistletoe.

There is someone whistling, there is someone laughing, there is someone cheering, but all you can see is that you are standing with him under a mistletoe, as he looks at you like he too, can't notice anything else.

You don't know if it's really bad luck or not. But you do know that you'd really like to kiss Jungkook. And you hope he does too.

None of you move, and he mistakes your lack of action as hesitancy.

"If you are uncomfortable we can move somewhere else. I mean-"

"No."

Jungkook blinks.

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's bad luck to not kiss. Right?" you shrug, "So we would not like that. Right?" Why, god why? Why are you speaking like a teenager? Just, hold him and tell him you are head over heels for him and would kiss him even if that meant bad luck for you. You hope he doesn't walk away at your reasoning.

He stops back a smile and nods like a child, his eyes holding the humor and happiness his mouth fails to deliver.

"Yes, of course. We don't need bad luck."

You roll your eyes and stand straighter, a smile playing at your lips.

Is this what dreams feel like? Is Jungkook dreaming? He feels like he is flying. There is no way you are standing in front of him, a flustered mess and making excuses to kiss him. As if he won't kiss you whenever you ask him to. He can kiss you all day (only if you allow him to, of course).

He feels giddy. He wants to hold you and recite the poem he read a while ago that reminded him of you. He wants to write you a song that makes you laugh and look at him with hearts in your eyes. He wants to do everything for you, and everything with you. A kiss is only the beginning of his love for you.

The smile on his face increases when his hands find your face. There is literally no one watching you, no one is there to pester you to kiss, but still you both do it. It's not a movie, but he feels like time slows down around him.

A lone petal which has been enduring the weather for a long time, finally falls when he dips down and attaches his lips to yours.

In the midst of the chaos of the party, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, and you still. For a moment, you forget that you are standing in the middle of a crowded hall. For a moment, all you feel is him.

An oh so sweet feeling settles deep inside you, and it seems like a lifelong yearning of yours has been settled. He moves his lips against yours gingerly, his hand cradling your jaw as if you will break if he even touches you with fervor. Your toes curl with the soft intensity of the kiss and you lean into him a bit more. The hints of wine that you taste on his lips pulls you into throws of ecstasy and your hands find themselves around his neck.

He kisses you like a dew drop touches the petals of a flower in the morning, soft and gentle. His tongue doesn't skirt at your lips, and you are glad, or else you would've turned a mistletoe kiss into a makeout session. You forget about everything around you.

But when he pulls away, his nose a hair's breadth away from yours, and breath fanning across your lips, you realize you don't even need to know about anything around you.

It's him, and just him.

"Y/N?" it's a whisper quieter than the quietest of nights, but you hear it nonetheless. As if he is asking you if you are still there with him or are still swimming in the ecstasy he has thrown you into.

You don't know what you are feeling. You don't know what to speak when your mind has gone on an overdrive and shut down simultaneously. What if you open your mouth and speak things that are so incoherent that he thinks he has to walk on eggshells around you, again? It's tiring trying to navigate your mind when you can hear your heartbeat loud in your ears. Does he hear it too?

Your eyes stare into his, with millions of questions and just a look of his doe eyes assure you that you are not alone. You will get answers, you will know what this is.

He swipes a finger at your cheek, as if asking you for your sincerity, and you mindlessly nod at his unworded request. It's funny that you are operating on autopilot, but you can't do anything else when your breath has been stolen from your lungs.

A loud cheer breaks you out of your reverie and you notice that people have now gathered around you two. God, it's so embarrassing. Not kissing him, but unintentionally acting like a fool in front of everyone. You think you see Yoongi with a smug smile in your peripheral vision, and maybe, just maybe, Mina is cheering too, but you ignore the whole ordeal.

You need to get out of here.

And just then-

"Wanna get out of here?"

Yes, God yes. Jungkook asks you the right question at the right moment, because of course he is Jeon Jungkook and he is always there for you. You nod and your smile grows as he pulls away from you, only for his hand to touch your elbow. His touch is featherlight, but you shiver nonetheless.

As you leave, you smile at the onlookers and they start to disappear. You are glad no one is nosy enough to come and ask you what will happen next.

You know two people who would like to know, and you know they, or at least Mina, is hopefully looking at you, but you just give her a look that says 'Later' and run away behind Jungkook.

Your feet follow his without other thought and you think maybe that's just what it is.

The night is still young when you step out in the fresh air with him. None of you speaks a word, it's as quiet as the night around you. Until it isn't.

“I am glad we got out of there. Those people are crazy.” Jungkook shakes his head as he says this and you laugh.

“True. Especially Mina and Yoongi. It's so good that we escaped them.”

At this Jungkook stops walking and you almost stumble. When you look around, you both are standing in an empty street with the streetlight and the moonlight being your only companion. There is no noise, given that you both got out from the parking lot and not the main lobby.

But the silence invites you like an old friend, and you are glad that the only one breaking it is Jungkook, and no one else.

"Did he, did he tell you?"

"Did he tell me what?" you wonder out loud. Is he talking about Yoongi? Well, Yoongi did tell you a couple of things. But you don't know how much of them you are going to reveal to Jungkook. Yoongi did make some speculations about his feelings, and even though you have a positive feeling, you are not going to try your luck right now. Especially when he is so close.

"Did he tell you anything after you kind of stormed off from the bar?" His voice is meek, unsure, and you grimace when he mentions your moment of weakness – your childish action of storming off during a conversation.

"No." You shrug and quickly add, "and I'm so sorry for storming off earlier. I was a little-"

"Y/N." He takes your hand and you pause,"it's okay, don't think about it." His hold on your wrist is firm but kind, as if afraid you will run away, again but also not trying to hurt you.

He shakes his head when you fail to say anything but just look at him. "Come here."

And you walk into his arms without hesitancy, like a moth drawn to a flame. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh.

"You don't need to apologize for feeling," he whispers, "but you also don't need to feel like you have to hide from me."

You know that. And you feel relieved now that he has said that.

"I was just feeling too much," you mumble into his chest.

"I know. I was too. And it's okay."

You laugh at that, genuinely. But not in a way that says that he joked, in a way that says you understand what he means. You don’t even think about how suddenly you both resonate with each other on so many levels.

A gust of wind blows your hair and you shiver a bit, despite being in his arms.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he asks and you wonder out a loud ‘Where?’

“Just, one of my favorite places. I am sure you will love it too.”

And you have no reason to say no to him. So you follow him, yet again, giddily.

It’s colder. The raised area allows the wind to affect you more. But you don’t care when you can see almost the whole city beneath you. Especially with Jungkook beside you bathed in moonlight, holding your hand.

He booked a cab from the street you both were on. And he never let go of your hand. The whole ride was quiet – you didn’t even ask him where exactly you were heading to, and still you knew you were going to love it. Because the easy smile and the glimmer in his eyes said so. His hand firm but gentle in yours said so. And you had no reason to not trust him.

“Wow.” 

“Isn’t it really beautiful?” he asks you excitedly, as he looks at you with unadulterated joy.

It is. You can see specks of light dancing in front of your eyes, the Christmas lights. There is no snow – but you think it wouldn't have even survived in front of the warmth you are feeling. 

“You come here often?”

“Naah. I don't usually get time to. In college I used to, though. Nowadays I only come here when I feel way too overwhelmed by everything.” He smiles and you do too. ”This place can clear your head quickly, and make you feel like you are on top of the world.”

“Well, I don't know about the top of the world, but it's definitely on top of the city.” He laughs and squeezes your hand, as if you said the most hilarious thing ever.

You know you should talk with him. It's not a fairytale, that suddenly you kissed and now you will live happily ever after. You need to settle down your previous grudges and talk, discuss your feelings a lot more. It's not college all over again, where you will communicate just for the namesake, nor are your feelings for him so trivial that you can just let it go. 

"Jungkook."

"Yeah, we need to talk." He smiles at you and your eyes widen slightly.

"What are you, a psychic?"

He just laughs and leads you to a circular brick structure built around some small plants that you notice just now. They are the apt height for you to sit on them like benches, and you realize this place is not that much of a secret. Still, it counts.

You sit down side by side, with your shoulders grazing each other's. And even though there is a lot of space, none of you shift.

"I am genuinely sorry for all the times I annoyed you so much that you felt like you needed to walk away," he begins with his eyes trained on his fingers in his lap.

You shake your head at this. It feels ridiculous to you to sit here and listen to him drone out apologies – as if it's his fault or something. 

"I think we should just sit down one day and say sorry to each other, because even I have a lot to apologize for."

He laughs and your shoulders slump with relief at the fact that he doesn't deny your words – that even you have a lot to apologize for. 

You think you are a little tipsy. And the red dust on Jungkook's cheeks tells you that he is more tipsy than you. You wouldn't be surprised if he was, especially after the one too many drinks he was having at the bar, while you were dancing with Yoongi. That thought takes you back to the moment you bickered with Jungkook at the bar, and stormed off. Even though he said it was okay, you know that was wrong of you.

"I, you are not my problem, Jungkook."

"Huh?"

He looks at you with big doe eyes, and you think how easy it is for you to drown in them. The moonlight reflects off his face in glowing beams, and the stars find themselves in his eyes. His lips are set in a confused frown, and the red dust on his cheeks seem to increase when he locks eyes with you.

"At the bar, when I said you were my problem. I was in a rage, because Yoongi said some things. And," you pause, realizing you are rambling and that it's ridiculous for you to explain yourself like this, "and there's no excuse for it, yeah. I am sorry." You sigh as you end, not being able to look him in the eyes.

You expect him to say how hurt he felt, or maybe just brush it off with an off-handed comment.

What you don't expect him to do, is take your clammy hand in his and interlock his fingers with yours. 

"Y/N. Look at me." He tugs you by your hand and you will yourself to look him in the face.

"What did you say just now about apologizing?"

"That we will sit down one day-"

"Yes, one day. And today's not the day. So stop apologizing for hurting me, when I wasn't even hurt."

You furrow your eyebrows.

"You weren’t hurt?"

He shakes his head with a laugh and raises his free hand to your face. Your breath hitches when he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. Oh my god, you could melt at the way his touch leaves a fire in its wake. His fingers linger on your neck, and he doesn't pull his hand away when he speaks.

"I know how snippy you can get when you are frustrated."

That makes you laugh.

"You know me, huh?" you ask slyly, as if this is the moment for you to be sly.

"Well, I know a lot about you." 

"What are you, a stalker?" you gasp.

"Yeah," he dryly replies and you exhale a snort.

His hand still lingers at your nape. And you belatedly realize that the hair on your neck is standing, as if saluting him. His eyes dart between yours and your lips, and you wonder if he will lean down. But then the hand at your nape moves around your form, and he pulls you in by your shoulder.

You stiffen for half a second, but then easily lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers dance across your arm lightly.

You can feel the warmth from him, and it makes you forget that you both are practically sitting out in the dead of winter, at night. You wonder if by some miracle you can stretch this moment to last forever, not wanting to leave his side, and the comforting peace of mind you get.

"So, how was the party?"

His question takes you off-guard.

"Umm, good?" you say confusingly. You understand he is just trying to break into a conversation, but really?

"Yeah. I am sorry for being a dick with the whole Yoongi thing before. I know you like him." He sighs and you sit up straight.

"Wait a minute. I don't like him," you say, because you really don't. Who is feeding him these lies? Mina, that fucker.

"Huh? You don't?"

"Honey, everyone and their mama knows how big of an asshole he is. I do not like him, okay." You laugh and you think you feel his shoulder sag with what you think is relief.

"I thought you were into assholes," he comments, slyly, and you decide to play along.

"Well, you are an asshole."

"Yeah, but are you into me?"

At that, you pause, and look up at him. He has an easy grin on his face, which says that he is also just playing along. You are not sure how honest you should be, but it's also high time now. You look back at the sky, and lay your head against his shoulder again as you drawl out a lazy-

"Yeah."

He suddenly sits up straight, and you stumble but catch yourself at the last moment.

"What?"

You look at him, holding back your smile.

"What?"

"You, you are into me?"

His eyes are wide like saucers and you think you see the faint citylights in them. It's beautiful how his lips form a confused pout, and his head nods at you.

"Yes." You laugh, and a smile breaks out on his face. His hands find yours and he holds them in a gentle grasp.

"Do you, do you really like me?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

"Oh my god, come here." He tugs at your hand and pulls you into him, again. You gladly rush into his arms and this time, lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart. You feel giddy, as if you are confessing to your first crush and he has just said that yes, he likes you too.

"I feel like I am the happiest man right now." You blush against his chest and he holds you tighter.

"So do I understand that you like me back too?"

"Of fucking course. If it wasn't obvious already, then." He laughs and you think you can melt in the sound, drowning yourself in the sweet honey ringing of his voice and the joy spilling from it. You know it was obvious – at least to some extent. Okay well, at least after someone pointed it out to you. And that gave you the confidence to open up to him. Or else you would have drowned in your thoughts instead of him.

His lips brush your hair and you sigh at the touch, closing your eyes at the tender feeling. You want the moment to stretch forever. The moon gracing you with its presence and the relief that you are finally beside him, in his arms, with nothing to bother you.

"I love you."

It is so sudden that you forget how to breathe, going still. His words are muffled by your hair, but you hear them nonetheless, when you can even hear him breathing. Somewhere, you knew this was coming. Because everyone, every sign, every feeling led you to believe it. And even though you are glad the intuition was right, you don't fucking know what to do now.

You take your head off his chest and look up at him. Just before you open your mouth to say anything, he rubs his hand on your arm, trying to calm you down. As if he felt the inner turmoil rising inside you.

"Shh. I know you're not there yet, and it's okay. Even if you'll never get there, I am content with how it is right now." He shouldn't be. After all this time, why is he still ready to give himself and his feelings up, for you?

"Jungkook-"

"I know. But, I couldn't stop myself from saying it. And I understand if you walk away."

"Shut up, I am not walking away," you tell him, rather firmly and you feel when his shoulders sag with relief, even though he doesn't let it show on his face. You snuggle into him once more, this time kissing his heart softly through the shirt.

"Why would you say something like that? Why would you say that you will be okay if I never get there?" you mumble and he rests his cheek on your hair.

"Because, being someone to you is better than being no one."

Oh, your heart. Your poor little heart. It can't take the pain, the longing that you can feel radiating from him. You feel like you could cry at his words, because how can you be so oblivious to his thoughts? You wish to tell him something, anything that can tell him that you are almost there too. That this time around, he won't be no one to you, he'll be everything to you.

"I, I am almost there too-"

"Love, I don't need to know if you are almost there or not. I need to know if you are here, here with me. Are you?" The name makes your heart do somersaults, but you compose yourself to give him a reply.

"Yes. Yes I am here with you."

"Well, then I don't want anything else." He laughs and you feel yourself calm down at the voice. It's just a matter of time, you think. You can't afford to hurt him anymore, and you know you won't. You are glad you are here with him. It's meaningless to fret over what will happen, rather than focusing on what's happening.

"I think we have someone to thank," he jokes and you roll your eyes.

"If it's Yoongi, then I'm not talking to him."

"Valid, but you know he helped."

That he did. If not for him, you would have been sulking in some corner, still at that party.

"We'll see what we do."

"Okay, boss. As you say." He laughs and you hit his chest.

"Shut up."

"Maybe you should tell him how you had a crush on him. Wouldn't it be hilarious?"

"Jungkook, I swear to god, if you don't shut up-"

And that's how you bicker into the night, with love and a lot of jokes. With a promise to be together, sealed by kissing in the moonlight.

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also, end notes : i am astronomically late for this one, three months late for christmas! but I'm finally here, after all the stuff going on with me hehe! maybe I'll write a drabble for these two later? where the reader also confesses her feelings? all domestic haha. let's see! but thankyou so much for reading it! any kind of feedback will be immensely appreciated :D

© sugarwithtea. all works belong to me. do not repost.

#bss2022 #bangtansecretsanta #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanoasis #k labels #networkbtsstorybook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bangtantheatrenet #bts enemies to lovers #bts x you #bts x reader #kissing under the mistletoe swt

[luvring]

Hello friend are your requests open?? I saw your Cove in school hcs and would like to add: going to university w Cove 👀 if this is too similar to the school hcs feel free to ignore lol I am just having a Normal Amount of thoughts about this boy :')

(Imagine renting an apartment with him and basically living like a married couple tho........ him driving you to class when it rains so you don't have to walk........... lunch dates in the school cafeteria while you both complain about the shitty dining hall food..................)

Okay I'll stop here this is your writing blog lmao XD thank you in advance if you do take this request tho I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts!!

— cove university hcs

You Are So Real. as a uni student i feel sick to my stomach like WHY NOT ME? no cove for me? none for me????? sick sick sick sick

be real. cove asks "are you ready to go home?" and he smiles and it's especially the first few times that he blushes and grins at the thought of Having a Home With You.

^ very much jumped at the chance to live with you when you brought up the idea

cove had his schedule on his lock screen and yours on his home screen for a while. once the both of you figured out a routine and when you could find each other he switched it back to his usual photos (u r in them of course. how else is he going to motivate himself when he's studying)

he really really wishes he could have every single class with you which y'know,, unless you have the same major and same electives isn't going to happen. he gets much happier when you finally meet up after class

still, you guys definitely sat together and planned out your classes. both to try planning breaks together and also for general emotional support.

^ don't get me started on the morning of registration. the refreshing and tension for first year registration because you don't have a backup schedule? crazy.(also my uni website was Horrendously slow)

exam season is hell, obviously. cove checks on you periodically and asks how things are going. if you're prone to overworking his check-ins are how he gets you to take a break.

^ if you refuse he'll try to find a middle ground, but if he knows you need to rest cove Will get you to rest. he's frowning when he speaks. says a loving but firm "you won't be able to study well if you burn yourself out. can you take a break with me?"

exploring the campus with cove!! seeing the different buildings, finding different libraries, pretending you're different majors. you get it

^ the both of you walk around before the first day to figure out where your classes are. it's kind of tiring but you're prepared now so !

figures out what places you both eat at and will memorize your regular order so he can bring it to you

he talks to you whenever he feels homesick because who would understand better than you? you're his biggest source of comfort

the both of you watching those university student meal videos/tiktoks because dear god you can only handle campus food/restaurants for so long.

^ you also text your parents for their recipes and tips whenever you get particularly homesick

HIM DRIVING! gives you a Look when you say you can walk and it's raining or super cold. why would you even say that to him. if you can't drive, either he'll drive you or you walk together. there's no other options.

'sneaking' each other into the particularly big classes—especially the first year intro ones. i say 'sneaking' because it Isn't Difficult At All.

^ you end up just working on your own things, but the extra time together is always nice !!

thinking about cove forgetting his pencil (case) the day of an exam and asking you for one sheepishly. (said by girl who's done this twice.)

he'd love to tell you about what he learns from his major—i'd go ahead and assume it's in the realm of marine sciences. he'd tell you about something cool he learned or maybe already knew from his own research and get very excited !!

^ hopes you'll do the same with him. smth smth sharing is a love language smth smth

reading week and breaks. i just know this guy sighs as he looks at his study guides before saying "just a few more days," to himself. he needs you to remind him too because it's more comforting when he remembers he'll have time off with You

taking pictures together for yourselves and to update your families !!! teasingly taking photos of cove doing mundane things just because it's now at University. first lunch, first class, etc etc

cove totally supports you if you want to join a club or go to any events. he might not go to many, especially if they're bound to be crowded and loud, but he'll ask how it went and want to catch up

we all know there's a difference between high school morning classes and uni morning classes. but cove is a morning person and i can't imagine how many times i'd complain about a 10 am class while he woke up at 6 that morning

🏷 | @lordbugs @xfangirl-trashx @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @bakugosgrenade @vhenis @dreamtydraw

living together means it's that much easier for cuddle sessions after a long day (or any day.) cove is just as happy to come find you as he is to hold open his arms for you. whether you want to rant or have a distraction, he'll be there

**add on | COVE GETTING HIS ACCEPTANCE LETTER! you both opened it at the same time and the relief and excitement that washed over him was overwhelming.

#our life #cove holden #cove holden x reader #cove holden fluff #ol:ba

[unserhermann-goering]

A fragment about Hermann getting slapped by a guard at the Nuremberg cafeteria:

Suddenly, the heavy double doors swung open and a group of US military police came in, escorting a tall, flabby man in handcuffs who seemed to float in his coat. Chadeyev, turning, recognized Field Marshal Hermann Goering’s pomaded hair, long, sensuous mouth, and deeply furrowed forehead. There must have been some unusual delay allowing a prisoner to eat in the cafeteria, Chadeyev thought, since normally the defendants returned to their jail cells during recess. He jumped up and fumbled for his press pass.

As Goering came nearer, Chadeyev saw that, although his waxy color showed the effects of imprisonment, he held his head high and his deep-set eyes looked around the room as if he owned it. The prisoner’s pudgy hand pointing to a corner table made Chadeyev’s mouth tighten with rage. For an instant, he measured the space between himself, Goering and the guards, imagining his hands on the flabby throat, but the moment passed and he gripped his camera even tighter.

By the time Chadeyev caught up with the group, Goering was sitting between two MPs. One of them was loosening his handcuffs. A young officer, in hard hat and gleaming white belt, who remained standing and alert, frowned as the photographer hobbled towards him

Chadeyev handed the officer his press pass, which said TASS/PHOTO in roman and Cyrillic letters. He uncapped his lens and waited impatiently, unsure whether to risk confiscation of his film by snatching at the chance to confront this murderer. Suddenly, Goering jumped up from the bench, his face purple with anger, his pale eyes nearly bursting from their sockets and spat a staccato stream of German words at the photographer. The American officer stared at Goering’s face, which was contorted with hatred.

Chadeyev stood immobile as the stream of insults washed over him. He spoke no German, but Goering’s tone was the same one that he had heard blaring from the loudspeakers, the verbal assault preceding the machine guns, in every Russian village and town, and he recognized "Russische" and "schweinehund." Although he remained outwardly impassive, he could feel his whole body tightening on the grief and fear that he had fought for five long years.

The young officer only hesitated a moment before shouting:

"Shut up, for Chrissake, shut up. Who the hell do you think you are?

They were now both screaming and the guard nearest to Goering, an older man, calmly turned and slapped him. The prisoner slid down on the bench, his hot face pale white. That was how Chadeyev, taking his time and pulling slowly on the frayed cord, captured him: a collapsed balloon. He waved a salute to thank the officer and returned to his table. Goering, still muttering, started to eat with his handcuffed hands.

Source: War’s End by Sophie Cook

[From HUMANITAS, Volume XI, No. 2, 1998 © National Humanities Institute, Washington, DC USA]

#slapped hermann #slapped for yelling #scolded schoolboy #goering #göring #hermann göring #hermann goering

[leyseyb]

could i req xavier x reader where theyre like roommates and enemies and they get into a heated fight and when theyre sleeping reader wakes up in the middle of the night trying to wake up xavier for cuddles/hugs bcs theyre cold

in the middle of the night [x.t.]

xavier thorpe x g.n.! reader

warnings: swear words

xavier was your roommate when you were at nevermore. and sadly you spend most of the time at nevermore, since it‘s your school.

you were roommates for almost two years now but none of you could grow a liking towards the other. or just didn‘t make it obvious.

you both always got into fights which resulted in ignoring each other, messing up the stuff of the other, namecalling and even more. even your friends knew how much you despised one another, so they tried to keep you apart as good as they could.

one day you were trying to sleep, your day wasn‘t the best as you just received a bad grade, slipped on some yoghurt in the cafeteria and hurt yourself. and with the stuff that was going on with the monster walking around, you were just anxious something could happen.

you were laying in bed, your blanket pulled over your head as xavier decided to keep his lights on and blast music.

„i swear to god thorpe, at least turn off that music! i want to sleep!“

„sorry, not gonna happen“

he just said and went back to his sketchbook on his desk, continuing to draw something in it.

you had enough of arguing with him. not gonna happen. you jumped out of your bed, as fast as you could with your bruises and injuries, made your way over to xavier‘s music box and turned it off.

you made your way back to your bed and sat down, sighing as it was finally silent.

„what the fuck? what is wrong with you?!“

xavier asked and turned around to you.

„with me? what is wrong with you?! i asked you to turn the music off because i want to sleep! what’s so difficult to understand?“

xavier sighed and shook his head.

„don‘t touch any of my fucking stuff again.“

„or what? you‘re going to draw a butterfly and let it attack me, huh??“

you rolled your eyes and layed back down. xavier is an ass. you were only an inch away to ask for a different roommate. you just couldn‘t do this anymore. luckily you fell asleep pretty quickly, saving you from dealing with xavier.

but once xavier went to bed as well and fell asleep, you started to feel bad. you immediately woke up, your body shaking because you were feeling so cold. you looked around as it felt like all of the windows were open, but they were indeed closed. you sighed and sat up. you didn‘t have a second blanket. and you also couldn‘t sneak out to get one. you looked around the room, trying to find something to warm you up while wrapping your only blanket around you tightly.

your eyes landed on xavier, your head telling you to go over there and ask for a warm night shelter.

„oh hell nah“

you quietly said to yourself.

„over my dead body.“

you layed back down, trying your best to keep you warm by hugging yourself and rubbing your feet together. but nothing was helping. you were still cold but also felt way to weak to go over to xavier‘s bed.

but it was the only option inside of this room.

so you got up on your shaky legs and made your way over to xavier‘s bed. you stood there for a good two minutes just looking at xavier and contemplating your decision.

you hated it. you didn‘t want to do it. but there was no other option and you didn‘t want to die.

„thorpe“

you said and poked his warm cheek as he was sleeping.

„thorpe“

you continued it but you couldn‘t wake him up, it was like he turned to stone. but ajax wasn‘t near so that‘s not the case.

„xavier thorpe“

you said a bit louder and shook his shoulder, earning a grunting sound and some slight movement from his side.

„goddamn just wake the fuck up!“

you said, almost slapping his cheek. but he woke up from your loud voice, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around the room, searching for the disturbing source. his eyes landed on you and he immediately rolled his eyes.

„what do you want? am i snoring too loud? sorry but that‘s something i can‘t control“

„no, it‘s not that. i‘m cold“

you said, your whole body continuing to shiver.

„why are you telling me this?“

„please let me sleep next to you.“

„no.“

„i even said please!“

„and i can‘t stand you! so no!“

you sighed but didn‘t leave the spot you were standing on.

„thorpe. i don‘t have any extra blankets and the windows are closed too. i won‘t come near you, i just need the warmth.“

xavier sat up and looked at you with slightly swollen eyes.

„i won‘t let you near me. don‘t even think about touching me in any way“

„never did, never will.“

you said and rolled your eyes before making your way over to the empty spot on xavier‘s bed, laying down and pulling your and xavier‘s blanket over you. you turned your back towards him and closed your eyes, already feeling how your body was slowly warming up, as you slowly stopped shivering.

you quickly fell asleep and even slept through your own alarm in the morning. since your phone was on the other side of the room, you wouldn‘t hear it.

as xavier‘s phone started ringing, trying to wake you both, you opened your eyes slowly. your head was pounding, eyes swollen and your limbs were hurting. you looked around for xavier‘s phone, wanting to turn the alarm off, as you felt…caged?

you turned your head and xavier’s was only inches away.

„jesus christ!“

you got startled and quickly turned your head back, which resulted in more pain.

xavier had his arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly to himself. he woke up through your startled noise and furrowed his eyebrows. he then heard his alarm as well and quickly turned it off.

„five more minutes…“

he mumbled and cuddled his face back into the back of your head.

it didn‘t take long for him to realize what was happening at the moment, his eyes opening again to scan the situation.

„xavier. can you let go?“

„oh fuck, sorry. of course.“

he immediately removed his arms around you and scooted a few inches backwards. what he didn‘t see was the end of his bed, which he fell down with a loud noise.

you got up and looked down at him.

„are you okay??“ you helped him up, trying not to laugh.

xavier grabbed your hand and got up, sitting back down on his bed and rubbing his back.

„i‘m fine.“ he looked up at your face, seeing that you tried not to laugh.

„don‘t get any wrong ideas. you just wouldn‘t stop shivering so i hugged you.“

he said and looked away again.

„yeah, sure. no problem. thank you“

you just said and nodded before making your way over to the bathroom to get ready for the day, starting with some pain killers for your head..

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x reader #x reader #x you #x reader fluff #x gn reader #x you fluff

[nykie-love-anime]

Cheating

Y/N: - looking at her friends while they are in the cafeteria busy eating - Y/N: I love cheating Y/N: If you don't cheat then what the hell is wrong with you Eddie: - nods his head agreeing - Nancy: Have you ever been cheated on? Y/N: Right I forgot some people are in relationships Eddie: - giggling like a school girl at his best friend - Nancy, Robin, Steve: - shaking their heads - Y/N: What I meant was I love to violate academic integrity on exams

Source: fandsart

Masterlist

#y/n #reader #eddie munson x friend!reader #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #incorrect quotes #stranger things #incorrect stranger things quotes #incorrect quotes stranger things

[frootloopscos]

Welcome to the Villians' World (6)

Previously

"Well this is partially your responsibility you know! So help me catch the furball! The useless bodyguard here can't use magic so that means it's up to me and you!"  And just like that, the two boys began to chase after Grim.

Now

The two boys managed to chase the monster cat into the Cafeteria. Ace groaned trying to catch the quick cat in his arms, "argh! Stop jumping around like that!" He yelled as Grim avoided him, "heh heh heh! Catch me if you can!" Grim yelled back as he avoided the ginger again. Deuce glared at Grim, "no fair climbing onto the chandelier, you coward!" He yelled at the cat, "I haven't really learned flight magic yet. . . What could I summon to hold onto him...? Hmmm... Oh! That's it!" He yelled suddenly getting an idea.

"Did you come up with somethi- Oi, hey! Stop! What are you doing?! Why are you pointing your pen at the bodyguard?!" Ace yelled, "because I'm going to launch them." Deuce said, (Y/n)'s eyes widen, "what?! No way in hell will this end well! Don't use your magic on me!" They yelled as they began to rise into the air, "seriously, do not launch them! Abort! ABORT!!" Ace yelled at Deuce remembering the punishment he tried to avoid after he had injured the bodyguard.

Deuce shook his head, "just make sure to grab him tight. I've got him in my sights, and... Go!" He yelled before throwing (Y/n) at the chandelier. Grim yells in surprise as (Y/n) reaches out to grab the cat before they end up being thrown into the fragile light figure. The two of them fall to the floor and (Y/n) hisses as they land on their back, holding Grim to their chest. Ace coughs as dust from the debris fill the air. "I cannot believe you just did that!" He yelled at Deuce.

Grim groaned in (Y/n)'s arms, "oh right! I probably should have come up with a way to soften your landing after you caught him..." Deuce said looking at the demon slayer on the ground. "You complete and total moron! We got Grim, but we hurt the bodyguard and broke the chandelier! If the headmage finds out about this—" Ace was interrupted by Crowley appearing, "if I find out about what, dear Ace?" He asked crossing his arms with a glare.

Ace's eyes widen seeing the bird man, "ah! Headmage Crowley!" "YOU. THREE. AGAIN. What have you done this time?!" Crowley yelled at the three teens and the monster cat. Grim groans as he lays on (Y/n)'s chest. "Myaaah... Everything's spinning..." Crowley's widen seeing his bodyguard on the ground with the broken chandelier, "first you attempt to burn them alive, that wasn't enough for you? Now you've injured them again and destroyed a chandelier?! Enough. All of you are expelled." Crowley said as he carefully helped (Y/n) off the ground and using his magic to hold Grim.

Ace and Deuce looked at him in shock, "what?!" They asked in surprise, "headmage, please! Give me a second chance! I can't get expelled from this school! I need to be here!" Deuce said to Crowley, "then blame yourself for your own foolish behavior." The headmage said, "I'll pay for the damages and for the bodyguard's medical bills! However much it costs!" He said in response, clearly desperate to stay in the school, Crowley shook his head.

"That chandelier is no mere light fixture. It is a magical chandelier. Its candles are powered by a magical energy source, enchanted so that they will burn for eternity. It was created for us by a legendary artificer. Possibly their finest creation. It has been here since the school was established, and I imagined it would be here forevermore. Considering its historical value, I would estimate its worth to be no less than a billion thaumarks. And you intend to repay that sum? Not only that but our bodyguard isn't from our world so they can't be while with minor magic, Professor Crewel is the one who helped heal them earlier." He stated glaring at the boys.

"A... A billion marks?!" Deuce asked in surprise and horror. "B-but I'm sure with your magical talent, sir you could snap your fingers and fix it right up!" Ace said trying to help out his dorm mate. "Even magic has its limits. Furthermore, its magestone — the figurative heart of any magical artifact — is cracked. A magestone cannot easily be replaced. I fear the candles of this majestic chandelier will never burn again." He said in fake remorse. (Y/n) groaned quietly in pain.

"This is bad..." Ace said looking to Deuce, "what am I going to do?! How am I going to tell my mother...?" Deuce said sadly, Crowley hummed in thought and then got an idea. "Ah! But there may be one way. One tiny sliver of a chance to repair this chandelier." Both the teens looked at him, "there is?!" They asked and Crowley nods, "the magestone that powered this chandelier was mined from the Dwarfs' Mine. If you can acquire a magestone with the same properties, it may be possible to repair it." He said with another nod as he gently rubbed (Y/n)'s back.

"Then I'll go find a magestone!" Deuce said, "with your permission, sir!" Crowley looked at him, "I should caution you that I cannot promise 5$343 yet remain magestones to find. The mines were closed quite some time ago. It is quite likely that all of the magestones have already been mined." Deuce nods with a determined look, "I will do anything to avoid expulsion, sir!" Crowley nods, "well then. I will suspend your expulsion for a single night. But if you fail to return with a magestone by morning, then all of you are expelled. Well, besides the bodyguard."

"I understand sir. Thank you very much for this opportunity!" Deuce said and Ace sighs, "fine then. Let's hurry down there, find a magestone, and get this whole thing done with." Crowley wraps an arm around (Y/n) as they lean on him. "You should be able to reach the Dwarfs' Mine instantly by using one of the gates in the Mirror Chamber."

——

After (Y/n) was taken care of by Crewel again, but to the adults anger at Crowley. They, Ace, Deuce, and Grim all stood in the Mirror Champer after they had volunteered to help the boys with their punishment. "Man, how did I end up in this mess? I swear, I have the worst luck." Ace said rubbing the nape of his neck. "We don't have time to complain. Let's go," Deuce said before turning to the mirror. "Dark Mirror! Take us to the Dwarfs' Mine!" The mirror lights up and the three of them enter one of the coffins to be transported to the Dwarfs' Mine.

——

Hey y'all! I'm going to try and update this more than I have been before!

Word count: 1155

Published to Wattpad: Nov. 5th, 2023

Published to Tumblr: April 24th, 2024

Edited: n/a

#twisted wonderland #twst #frootloopscoswrites #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #dire crowley #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland demon slayer crossover #uzui tengen #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba