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#when i was choosing which college to go to i had two choices: out of state (super expensive) for a creative major
believemedarlin · 5 months
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The Perfect Man
Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader (3.9k words) Also available on AO3
Summary:
“You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”
“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.
Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued
***
A drunken night out with the girls leads to some interesting revelations.
***
“Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”
A round of groans sounded from the table, but Penelope Garcia was not to be dissuaded. 
“Come on, ladies. It’ll be fun!”
Her best puppy dog eyes firmly in place, Penelope implored her friends and coworkers with a practiced look. You were holding strong until she brought out the big guns and pouted at you.
A mere ten seconds later you caved. 
“Okay, fine,” You sighed. “But can we use kick instead of kill? I always hated that option. Why do you have to kill them when kicking would be just as effective in showing your lack of interest? No death required.”
“Ooh, I like that,” Penelope immediately agreed with a nod. “You know I’m a pacifist at heart.”
She turned to the other two women seated at the table, pout back in full force. JJ gave in first, patting Penelope’s hand with an indulgent smile and a nod. 
Seeing that she was outnumbered, Emily shrugged. “Sure. But I’ll need another drink if we’re doing this. I haven’t played this since college.”
“I’ll get us all another round.” Penelope jumped to her feet to join her and they made their way to the bar, weaving through the other patrons.
It was a rare Friday night off and the women of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had decided to go out for a much-needed night of ladies-only fun and frivolity. They had happily left the guys to sort out their evenings and escaped the second the clock struck five.
They were all a few drinks in at this point, which is most likely the reason Penelope had suggested the game. She always got a bit playful when she drank.
They returned a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand. 
Once settled, Penelope leaned in, an eager smile on her face. “Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kick. Henry Cavill, Ben Barnes, Zachary Levi. And go!”
Emily took a sip of her drink and wasted no time in voicing her choices, followed by JJ and you. You took turns coming up with more and more outlandish options, and pleasantly spent the next hour drinking and laughing with your friends.
You had just finished giggling over Penelope’s reasoning behind her choosing to kick Willy Wonka and marry Jareth the Goblin King so she could enjoy a night with Conan the Barbarian when Emily leaned in with a smirk.
“I’ve got a good one. Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.”
The table erupted in a chorus of ooohs and laughter. 
JJ bit her lip in thought. “Okay, since we know them personally and I’m a happily taken woman, I’m going to change mine to kiss, because it’s weird to say I want to fuck any of them. So, uh, I’ll go with kiss Morgan, marry Reid, and kick Hotch. But only barely, because I do not want him angry with me.”
“Easy,” Penelope chirped. “Fuck Morgan, marry Morgan, and kick Reid and Hotch.”
You, JJ, and Emily burst into laughter, with JJ swatting Penelope on the arm. “You can’t double up like that!”
“Can too! My game, my rules. Besides, it’s special circumstances with Morgan as an option.”
Emily snorted, then grinned. “Hmm. I think I’d go with fuck Morgan, marry Hotch, and kick Reid.”
All eyes then turned to you as you stared into your drink, taking entirely too long as you overthought the options.
Eventually, Emily cleared her throat and you looked up to see her watching you expectantly.
“What?” You grinned sheepishly with a shrug. “It’s harder than you’d think!”
The ladies teased you good-naturedly until you finally said, “Okay, okay! Um, I think…” 
You blew out a breath in a long sigh. “Fuck Reid, marry Hotch, kick Morgan. No wait… Maybe fuck Hotch, marry Reid?”
Emily and JJ cackled while Penelope put on a fake offended air. “Why you gotta kick my beloved cinnamon hot chocolate Adonis not once, but twice? He’s the perfect man!”
"I mean, a lot of women would think that, yeah, but not me.”
Penelope gasped and pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. “Why, I never.”
You giggled with a shrug. “Sorry?” 
“You’re forgiven.”
“What I want to know,” JJ chimed in with a mischievous grin, “is why you can’t decide between Reid and Hotch on who to marry?”
You buried your face in your hands to hide your blush. “I don’t know! Both seem like solid choices. I think they’d both make good husbands.”
Emily smirked. “Sure it wasn’t because you couldn’t decide which you’d rather fuck?”
Penelope and JJ burst into laughter again while you groaned into your hands.
“You all are menaces. I don’t know why I spend time with you.”
“Because we’re wonderful people and you love us.”  Penelope teased.
“That’s debatable.” You mumbled.
“Oh, come on,” she leaned into your side and laid her head on your shoulder. “You know you adore us.” Penelope batted her eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.
“Yeah, I do.”
She cheered and called for another round of drinks.
The game wound down and devolved into a rather extensive list of men and women that each of the ladies wouldn’t mind enjoying some personal one-on-one time with.
You had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the past few minutes, chin in hand and elbow on the table, your mind pondering on something Penelope had said earlier. Your voice took on a contemplative tone as you mused aloud, “You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”
“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.
Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued.
“Okay, just hear me out. Now, granted, everyone’s idea of the perfect man is different but for me… If we go by physical attributes first, you have to admit that each guy is objectively attractive on their own. I mean seriously, was it a prerequisite that everyone has to be outrageously good-looking to be a member of the team?”
The ladies heartily agreed with laughter and nods, but you gestured across the table to them. “I’m including you three in this too. Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all absolutely gorgeous.”
“Damn right, we are,” Emily exclaimed as she high-fived JJ.
You raised your glass to her and took a sip before expanding on your premise. “So by themselves, each man is handsome but combined…”
You tilt your head in thought. “For me, it would be Reid’s hair. I’ve always liked longer hair on a guy and have you seen those curls when he lets it grow out? And then add in Hotch and Rossi’s dark hair and … yeah. Next would be Morgan and Rossi’s facial hair. I don’t know about you ladies but I like a man with a bit of scruff, you know what I mean? Goatee or full beard or just a couple of days growth, hell even a good five o’clock shadow, as long as it’s maintained and not all scraggly, I like it. Oooh, remember when Hotch came back with a beard?
“Yeah,” you sighed, a bit more dreamily than you had intended, surely caused by the late hour and not the memory of a casually dressed, bearded Hotch. “Like that.”
All three ladies shared a knowing look, but you paid them no mind. 
“Though there is something to be said about a freshly shaved face. It’s so soft…” You sighed again.
“And then there’s height.” You knew you were rambling, but with the alcohol fueling you, there was little chance of stopping you now. “They’re all at least 6 foot so the height difference is perfect for both cuddles and forehead kisses.”
At this, Emily snorted. “Forehead kisses?”
“Yes,” you snipped primly. “They are the pinnacle of non-lip-to-lip kisses and they are my favorite thing. They just make you feel so adored. Now shush.”
You shooed her and rested your chin back in your hand. “Let’s see… Eyes. Honestly, I think they all have lovely eyes. I’m not picky on eye color really but I think Hotch’s stand out the most to me. I mean, have you seen his eyelashes? It should be criminal for a man to have such beautiful eyelashes.”
Another round of nods and hummed agreements sounded from the table.
“You know,” you continue with barely a pause, “I’ve never been a fan of really buff dudes, which sorry Pen, but that’s kinda why poor Morgan got kicked twice.” You shrugged unapologetically at her. 
“I’ve always preferred lean guys. Not scrawny but not bugling out his shirt, you know? Strong but not shoved in your face. But!” You sit straighter in your chair, index finger raised to emphasize your point. “That’s just looks. Personality-wise, I’m drawn to kindness first and our boys all have that in spades. And they each show it in different ways, but it’s always present.”
You met Penelope’s eyes. “And Morgan’s kindness absolutely overrides his excessive muscle mass. He’s honestly one of the kindest people I know, even if he’d deny it. He’s not humble about a lot of things, but he is about that.”
Your eyes dropped to the table as your finger ran along the wood grain. “I also like intelligence and while yes, first thoughts go to Reid, the others are all brilliant too. Like, Rossi is so wise! It seems like he always knows what’s going on with someone before anyone else, and always seems to know just what to say just when you need to hear it. And they each have strengths that I admire. I genuinely like each of them as a person and I’m proud to know them and am honored they consider me a friend. Honestly, I feel that way about all of you.”
“Aw!” Penelope sniffled. “That’s so sweet. We love you too, you know.”
You gave her hand a quick squeeze and took another sip of your drink. 
“What about lips?”
You blinked at JJ. “Lips? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I look at them much.”
Emily tilted her head. “You seriously don’t look at men’s lips?”
“Not really? I mean, I notice smiles. And honestly, how did I not start with that? It’s usually one of the first things I notice about someone. Smiles make everyone look twice as attractive. Oh, and a sense of humor! Gotta love a man who can make you laugh.”
“This one is definitely Morgan,” Emily chimed in and you nodded in agreement while Penelope raised her glass.
“Absolutely. He always makes me laugh, but so do the others. Rossi is snarky, which I appreciate as a fellow snarker. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me hold back a laugh during a round table. Reid can be really funny, too. Especially when we’re making Star Trek or Doctor Who references that no one else gets. Except you, Pen, but you’re usually in your lair. And Hotch—”
“No,” Emily cut in. “No way you think he’s funny. The man barely smiles.”
You tsked and leaned in, your tone turning a bit haughty. “First of all, I think it’s a good thing that he holds those back because have you seen how handsome he is when he smiles? His whole face transforms and he has dimples. Dimples . It’s ridiculous and no one would be able to focus on work if he was blinding us with his smile all the time. And secondly, yes. He’s hilarious, actually. He has a dry sense of humor that gets me every time. And he is so straight-faced about it. I laughed embarrassingly loud once at something he said and I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop giggling. And the man had the nerve to be smug about it later.”
You shook your head with exasperated fondness, not noticing the raised eyebrows and pointed looks the other ladies were sharing.
“Anyway,” You sighed and leaned back in your chair. “Morgan is my biggest supporter, Reid nerds out with me, Rossi gives the best advice, and Hotch makes me feel safe. All things that would attract me to someone. So, with their powers combined…” You spread your hands in a sweeping motion. “The perfect man.”
“Huh,” Penelope hummed. “You know, I kinda see it.”
“See?” You grinned triumphantly. “We really do work with amazing guys.”
A cry of ‘hear, hear’ sounded around the table and the four of you leaned in to clink glasses.
Emily settled back in her chair with a smirk, her eyes focused on you. “Okay, you waxed poetic about the guys. Now, what about us?”
You grinned. “You, my darling lady loves, all hold a special place in my heart. There’s no way I could choose. You are each the perfect woman.”
Another cheer went up and everyone downed their drinks, laughing merrily.
The outing wound down about half an hour later. You each stumbled your way outside, Emily and Penelope deciding to share a taxi.
You stood with JJ as you waved the other two goodbye; you waiting for your own taxi and JJ waiting for Will to pick her up.
“You know,” she said conversationally, her eyes on the street. “You mentioned Hotch quite a few times describing your perfect man.”
You blinked. “What? I did not.”
She turned to you with a wide grin. “Oh yes, you did. No denying it now.”
You sputtered, not sure how to reply.
She chuckled and laid a hand on your arm, just as your taxi arrived. “Seems to me like he ticks quite a few of the boxes for your perfect man.” She leaned in to whisper, “So what are you going to do about it?”
JJ winked as she stepped back to open the door of the car that pulled in behind your taxi and slid in. “Just think about it, okay?”
You nodded numbly, mechanically climbing into the back seat of the taxi while Will and JJ patiently waited to make sure you were safely on your way.
You mumbled out your address and barely noticed the drive home, arriving much sooner than expected, as your mind was focused on JJ’s words.
You shook your head as you entered your apartment, determined to think no more of it. It was just a silly statement born out of one too many drinks.
There was no way you thought of Hotch that way.
No way at all.
***
The rest of the weekend was miraculously quiet and work-free. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much time to yourself, so you took full advantage of it.
As days off always tended to do, they flew by too quickly and Monday morning arrived before you were ready for it. You greeted everyone when you entered the department, nodding to Rossi and waving at Morgan and Penelope as you settled in at your desk.
No new case had come in, so today would be an in-office day catching up on paperwork and caseloads.
You were productive throughout the day, completing most of the pending work assigned to you, and you were feeling quite accomplished with the diminishing stack in your inbox.
Only a few minutes remained in the workday when you stood from your chair, stretching your stiff back, and made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office to drop off an armful of completed reports.
You knocked on his door, only having to wait a second before he bid you enter.
He was focused on the open file in front of him and he didn’t look up until you spoke. “These are ready for you to review, Hotch.”
His eyes shot up to meet yours before dropping to the folders in your arms. He gestured to the corner of his desk nearest you and went back to scribbling notes on the report. “You can just leave them there, thank you.”
You set them down next to another stack and grimaced. There were multiple bundles of files littering his desk. While in-office days were great for clearing your desk of work, it unfortunately always added to Hotch’s workload.
“Looks like everyone had similar offerings for you today. Will you be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight? I’d be happy to help with anything if you need it.”
Hotch finished the line he was writing and looked up at you through his long lashes, a small, shy kind of smile curving his lips. His cheeks were just a touch pinker than usual and you blinked because you’ve never seen that look on his face before.
He looked almost bashful, a word you would never have associated with Aaron Hotchner.
But damn, was it a good look on him. He really was a handsome man, wasn’t he? Kind, funny, successful, and a great father. He was practically the perfect man.
You froze and blinked again at the realization.
“Oh, uh,” his deep voice broke you from your thoughts. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it covered. I shouldn’t be here too much longer.”
“Right, of course.” You nodded and prayed he couldn’t see the blush you knew was rapidly spreading across your face. “Well, good night, sir.” 
You spun on your heel and opened the door, ready to flee as fast as your feet could carry you.
His low, murmured good night followed you out the door and you nearly shivered because holy hell, even his voice was attractive.
You quickly grabbed your things and nearly sprinted to the elevators, not wanting to stay one second longer around skilled profilers who could read you so easily, knowing they would spot your flushed cheeks instantly and want to know what caused them. Or worse, they’d already know, and that was not something you were ready to discuss with any of them at the moment.
You had fully intended on ignoring JJ’s words from Friday night, but after your reaction just now, you knew she was right.
Hotch was pretty damn close to fitting the idea of your perfect man.
Or maybe, the idea of your perfect man came from Hotch.
You sighed as you entered the thankfully empty elevator, finally admitting to yourself the truth that had been staring you in the face for longer than you’d ever care to admit.
You had it bad for Aaron Hotchner.
Oh, you were in so much trouble.
***
Aaron watched as you left his office, your face a delightful shade of pink.
His eyes followed as you rushed to your desk, snatched up your things, and darted out the door.
He hadn’t meant to overhear Prentiss and Garcia’s conversation that morning as they reminisced over their night out last Friday. He certainly hadn’t meant to linger when they mentioned you and your adorable—according to Garcia—rant about the perfect man. And he most certainly hadn’t meant to lean in rather eagerly when they whispered about just how many times his name had come up as an example during said rant.
He had been pleasantly surprised and somewhat stunned by the information. He’d never thought of himself as an ideal for the perfect man. 
Sure, he supposed he had a few attributes that some women might find appealing. He had a successful career and tried to keep in shape, though that was more for his job than vanity.
But he never imagined that anyone would look at him and think that he was a paradigm of their perfect man. Least of all you.
You were a brilliant profiler, exceptional in the field and able to hold your own in a fight when needed, but you were also caring with the victims and their families. You were witty and kind and easygoing. You were someone who smiled freely and laughed readily and did your best to cheer and encourage the team on tough cases.
Not someone who would think of stoic, hardass Aaron Hotchner as the perfect man.
Still, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from drifting to the window of his office throughout the day, seeking you out.
He thought back to when you joined the BAU and how quickly you became not only an essential part of the team but a much-welcomed member of their little family. Everyone adored you and Aaron himself had to admit that you had wormed your way into his heart.
He loved the time he got to spend with you when the team got together to unwind after a case and the little moments of levity you all shared in between working. He recalled the times he managed to make you laugh and the occasions where he found himself chuckling as well. You were easy to talk to and more often than not, the two of you fell into conversation whenever everyone else was either asleep or preferred to be left alone on the jet going to and from cases.
He genuinely enjoyed your company and found himself wishing he could enjoy it more often.
His eyes wandered to the bullpen again, zeroing in on you almost immediately. Prentiss and Morgan were standing by your desk when one of them said something that made you laugh.
Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened to release an enchanting sound of delight. Aaron couldn’t look away and had to admit that you really were quite lovely. Inside and out.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at you but knew it was longer than appropriate. He shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his work.
He managed to shove all thoughts of you from his mind for the remainder of the day until a soft knock sounded on his door late in the afternoon.
He didn’t bother to look up from the report he was notating after giving a gruff come in until he heard your voice.
Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up to meet yours before dropping them to the large stack of files in your arms.
He gestured for you to place them on the corner of his desk next to the ones Reid had deposited earlier and thought that would be his singular interaction with you for the day.
But then your caring side came out again and you sweetly offered to help him, a proposition that both filled him with fondness and nervousness.
After all his wayward thoughts about you throughout the day, he wasn’t sure if being in close proximity with you was a good idea or not. 
Aaron looked up at you again, the late afternoon sun enveloping you, enhancing your features, and his only thought was that he’d been wrong earlier. 
You weren’t just lovely. You were stunning.
In that moment, he was completely captivated by you and his thoughts ran rampant as he cataloged every minute detail of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your brilliance, and all the little things that made you you . Everything that endeared you to him.
But his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he realized that he was staring at you. He felt his face flush and he stammered as he gently declined your help.
You bid him a good night, but Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off the spreading blush on your cheeks. It kept his attention until you were out of sight.
He blinked and dropped his eyes back to the forgotten report in front of him, a slow smile creeping across his face.
He may not have meant to overhear the conversation that caused him to think about you all day, but he was starting to be glad he had. It seemed it was all he needed to face a few truths he had been in denial about for a long while now.
He was completely and utterly smitten with you.
Now, he just had to decide what to do about it. 
Aaron sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
Oh, he was in so much trouble.
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sparklingchim · 1 year
Text
ego season; m | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 6.3k
rating: 18+
genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother's best friend, college!au
warnings: jungkook's a lil flirt <3, unprotected sex, shower sex, doggy, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), creampie 🤭, cum play/swallowing, they like almost get caught 🫣, sum head in the locker room, disgusting kisses, CHANYEOL CAMEO!!!, nipple play, spanks, a teeny tiny mark, cursing, dirty talk, praise, spit
summary: pov: you make ur secret fuck buddy jealous.
a/n: hi hi besties enjoy i love u m going sleepies now <3
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
You like the illicit.
Which is why you’re in the shower with Jeon Jungkook.
The guy who is your brother’s best friend.
Starting college and being away from your overbearing parents has its perks – the freedom it has given you has swayed you straight into Jungkook’s arms.
Turns out that despite the beginning of your little secret feeling quite mutinous and thrilling, it soon became apparent that maintaining it hidden from your brother Taehyung is substantially ridiculous when you share an apartment with said brother.
It gets even more ridiculous when you consider that they see each other every day because they play for the same hockey team.
You admit, choosing Jungkook as a fuck buddy was an inconvenient choice in which you had not considered the intricate aspects that would make sneaking around hardly possible.
But
The two of you are undeniably compatible in bed.
Luckily, you found out a few months ago at a frat party when you both were completely wasted and out of your minds.
After that night, there was no going back.
Being in college can be overwhelming at first. Lots of choices and opportunities. But it’s a vast contrast from your previous life, and you’ve fully committed to this lifestyle.
All your life you’ve longed to be in charge if your own decisions. Now that you're in college, living in a swanky apartment near campus, you have a little more freedom.
When there are no parents around to keep an eye on you, you can – almost – do whatever you want.
College is fun.
And taking a shower with Jeon Jungkook is fun too.
You giggle when Jungkook snatches your shampoo bottle from you before you can reach for it.
“Lemme do it.” He squeezes a generous amount on his open palm and rubs the fluid between his hands.
“Jungkook,” you scold. “That’s way too much.” You ogle the ample amount of shampoo coating his hands. Your lips drag into a pout as you watch Jungkook’s excessively besmeared palms extend to your hair. But it promptly fades when he begins to massage your scalp.
“But I like how it feels. Gets really foamy and bubbly.” He has a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he watches the solution grow into a rich foam of frothy bubbles on your head.
“Using too much can dry out your hair,” you mumble. Concentrating is a little difficult with Jungkook’s way too experienced fingers working on your scalp. “It can remove the moisture.”
“Oh, really?” His eyebrow twitches for the briefest second, that’s how you know Jungkook is actually listening to you because judging by his expression, he’s trapped in his own thought bubble.
It’s actually something you adore about Jungkook – whenever he is occupied doing something, whatever it is, he’ll put so much care into it and work diligently. Sweet – admirable, actually. It’s a characteristic you want to achieve as well, but you’d have to tweak on your impatience at first.
“Really,” you confirm.
“And I thought you were just saying that because your shampoo is expensive.” He teases you with a bob of his covered finger on your nose.
“That too.”
You reach behind Jungkook to grab your brother’s weird three in one shampoo. You squirt some on your hand and put it back. On your tippy toes you start to shampoo his hair as well.
He has his mouth twisted in a cocky smirk when he says, “The way you opened the door for me earlier seemed a little...” Jungkook cocks his head and ponders for a fitting word.
When he doesn’t come up with one you suggest, “Desperate?”
“Hmm.” Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he’s in thoughts. “I wanted so say rushed, but sure. Desperate will do.”
Your eyes roll in playfulness. “You were dripping with sweat, Jungkook. Didn’t want any of it dirtying my apartment floor,” you reason.
You texted Jungkook a good morning message and good luck on today’s game. He instantly replied with a thank you and told you that he had just finished his morning jog through the campus park. And maybe you offered him to stop by at your place because conveniently you also wanted to take a shower... (You hate morning showers). Taehyung had left a couple minutes prior to visit the gym.
“That’s the only reason?” A challenging twinkle flashes across his eyes.
The tip of your tongue touches your upper lip as you try to hide your smile. “Wouldn’t know why else.”
Jungkook nods. He grabs the shower head and tips your head back by grabbing your cheek. Carefully, he washes the shampoo out of your hair.
Jungkook is cautious not to accidentally splash water on your face and gently runs his fingers through your wet hair to remove the excess shampoo. You taught him well.
When he’s done, he offers you the shower head and it’s your turn.
Standing on your toes while trying to wash the shampoo out of his hair is always a little battle.
Usually, Jungkook comes to meet you by lowering himself, but at the moment his mind wanders elsewhere.
You first feel his hand on the curve of your waist. It’s a soft grasp. A gentle squeeze of your flesh that transiently side-tracks you from your task.
“Jungkook.” You try to pull him out of his little bubbles he’s trapped in. There’s a thickness to your voice, undoubtedly from his wandering hand on your body.
“Mmmh?’ He doesn’t look you in the eyes. Solely fixed on your body as his fingers mould against the supple form of your tit. You’ve always reckoned him to be a tits man, but he denies it and says he loves your ass equally as much. Liar.
“Bend down a little so I can rinse off the shampoo,” you request. His lashes flutter as he averts his eyes to you. A tiny crease appears between his brows like he has actually forgotten where he is and what you two have been doing. “Believe me, you really don’t want remnants of shampoo lingering in your hair.” You cock your head, fruitlessly waiting for a reaction from his head empty and hands full with tits haze.
Suddenly, Jungkook does bend forward. But not in favour of you, but to satisfy his own selfish desire to suck on your boob.
“Oh!” you squeal, pressing the shower head against his back. “Jungkook,” you chide, but your voice turns into a soft whine at the end.
“Hmm?” His hum together with your nub between his lips twists something in your tummy. His tongue begins to swirl around it, and you have to force your eyes to stay open. Jungkook’s inked hand reaches down your lower back. His subtle touches leave a trail of shivers, until his pads brush over the slope of your ass. He squeezes your cheek, firm fingers digging into your skin.
A small gasp escapes your throat.
With a lewd pop he releases your nipple. A lopsided smirk appears on his face, conjuring the little dimple on his cheek.
Jungkook’s dimple. So banal but so endearing. It’s a pretty contribution to the soft contours of Jungkook’s features – except for the sharp outline of his jaw. That adds to his image of the college jock. You like to tease him with that name, and he loathes it, but the sex afterwards is always so good.
You feel his other hand sneak down, grabbing a handful of your ass. He closes the distance between you again, pressing languid kisses along your neck. Begrudgingly, your eyes fall closed.
“Is this what you wanted?” A whisper of his mellow voice coaxes your breath to stutter.
“Yeah.” It’s merely a murmur. The tender nudges against your skin with his mouth unfold spellbound clouds in your mind, looming over your rational thoughts. “But the...” The shampoo you want to remind him, but he starts to suck on your skin and no more comprehensible thoughts form in your head.
You raise the shower head to Jungkook’s hair and wash off the remaining bits of shampoo. You make sure not to let the water run down his face.
“But what?” he asks, planting a soft peck on the flesh below your collar bone where his teeth have just sunk in. You’re not trying to act like a brat – you just care for his hair.
“Nothing,” you utter between pouting lips. “But no marks,” you alert.
“Just a tiny one.” Jungkook kisses the spot again. “No one will see,” he persuades.
Presuming you won’t wear clothes with a deep cleavage. Jungkook just made sure you won’t.
You put the shower head back on its place on the wall beside you. You struggle to secure it in the holder when you feel Jungkook’s hand move from your ass to your tummy.
Usually, you’d coax him into allowing you to put conditioner in his hair, but you can only concentrate on his hand slowly trailing down your belly button. When he cups your pussy, your hands clasp his shoulders.
A tantalising grin pulls the corner of his lips up. “You want this?”
You nod, your teeth capturing your bottom lip.
“Use your big girl words.” Jungkook runs his pad over your folds, eliciting a shudder from you. “Talk to me.”
“Want you,” you plead. Your eyebrows knit the further Jungkook dips his middle finger in. “Been wanting this for so long.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Last night wasn’t enough?”
The mention of last night shoots arousal and need straight to your core. An exchange of innocent text messages led to a phone call containing dirty words and hushed moans.
“No.” You shake your head. “I need you feel you.”
A chuckle bubbles in his throat. “That’s my girl.”
He spreads your wetness with his finger. Your hand wanders down to Jungkook’s tatted arm, squeezing his biceps when he brushes past your clit. His finger dwells there, putting pressure on your swollen bud. Your hips impulsively start to rock, a shaky whimper rolls past your mouth.
“Always so needy.” He draws his hand back. A petulant whine from you echoes in the bathroom.
“Shh,” Jungkook hushes you. Glimmers of tease spark in his eyes. “Bend over for me, love.”
With a puff, you turn around, bend forward and catch yourself on the tiled wall. It’s cold on your palms, but you’ll endure this if it means that Jungkook will make you cum.
He hisses behind you. “So fucking pretty.” A hand travels over your ass to your spine and back. “The prettiest girl,” he rasps. You earn a smack on your cheek, the pain leaving your walls clenching around nothing.
You turn your head, catching him just as he aims a trickle of spit at your pussy. He rubs it over your folds. His inked fingers vanish between your thighs.
“Oh fuck,” you moan as his index finger slowly enters you. He reaches deep, curling his finger to graze your spot. “More.” He’s teasing you, rubbing over your sensitive area in slow strokes.
“What do we say?” he taunts, specks of mock painting his voice.
“Please,” you reply. “I need more, please.” You’re putty in his hands. The desire to be touched bigger than your general wayward behaviour.
“Good girl.” Jungkook adds another finger. It’s just two, but you feel so full. So good.
While his fingers pick up on the speed, you feel Jungkook’s kisses on your ass. He has you rolling your eyes at the way his pads curl against your sweet spot, the knot in the pit of your tummy tightening.
Jungkook bites down on your flesh, drawing a squeal out of you. Your head twists to him again. He’s on his knees, his cheek resting against the curve of your ass as he captivatingly watches his fingers move in and out of you. A faint smirk hangs on his lips.
He meets your half-lidded eyes. His smirk deepens. “Can take a third one?”
You know you can – he knows it too – but you’d rather have his cock inside you.
“I wan’ you.” It’s a sulky request, but Jungkook’s eyes soften.
“You think you’re ready for me?” He pushes his fingers deep, remaining there for a while. Your knees buckle.
“Yes,” you pant. “I’m always ready for you.”
Jungkook hums. Your eyes focus back on the white tiles, expecting Jungkook to move behind you to bury himself inside you. With a pounding heart you wait. A gasp springs from your chest when
Jungkook’s tongue is on your pussy. He retreats his fingers from your quivering hole, using both his palms to spread your cheeks open. His tongue dives between your folds, inciting breathless whimpers from you.
“Taste so good.” Jungkook muffles indistinctly between licks on your wetness.
The sloppy sounds of his tongue lapping on your pussy fill your ears. Your throat constricts, the pleasure sends you spiralling, not permitting you make another noise.
One hand smooths over your back. You arch your back for him and Jungkook voices an approving hum against your core. Tingles sprawl everywhere, eyes falling shut as Jungkook swirls his tongue over your clit. He sucks on your tiny nub, and your thighs shake in response.
His thumb gathers your juice mixed with his spit and begins to circle your other hole.
“Jungkook,” you mewl. Your voice is small, barely having the vigour to drown out the noise of running water and Jungkook’s wicked mouth.
“Mhmm? What is it, princess?” His playful baritone timbre rumbles through your body, sparking the tight knot in your belly. The pad of his thumb continues to sweep over it, jolts of arousal teeter in your veins. He pecks your ass. “Want more?”
“Yes – please,” you answer hurriedly, voice laced with an equal amount of desperation and lust. It’s still early in the morning but Jungkook has you begging for his cock with no effort.
Jungkook straightens up to his full height. He squeezes your waist, his other hand pumping his thick cock. He rubs the glistening precum on his tip over his length. His eyes are glued to your inviting pussy, the urge to fill you to the brim fogs his mind, but he controls himself. He’ll get you used to his size before fucking you silly. The filthy thought of having you cum around his dick lures a restrained groan out of him.
Last night, when he heard your hushed whines and little whispers of his name, Jungkook was thirsting to come over and have his way with you. It had him lusting over you even after the phone call ended.
Jungkook taps his tip against your aching pussy. The wet sounds it elicits makes his front teeth dig into his lower lip. So wet. Just for him.
His head nudges your entrance. You inhale sharply, zealously anticipating the feeling of his cock sheathed deep inside you. Jungkook pushes his cock inside you. A mutual moan reverberates in the bathroom.
“Fuck.” Your eyes are tightly closed.
“It’s just the tip,” Jungkook mutters, fingers trailing up your spine.
“So big,” you babble.
“You can take it.” Jungkook’s hand finds your tit, firmly palming the smooth flesh. “You’re gonna take my cock like the good girl you are, right?”
The pet name makes your heart flutter. “I can take it,” you promise.
Gradually, Jungkook eases his cock inside you. He’s so deep. Your head hangs low. You’re so full.
There’s an inkling of burning pain from Jungkook’s size, but he allows you to adjust to him. His fingers tugging at your nipple steals your attention. A whine flies past your lips at his ministrations on your pebbled nipple.
“You can move,” you tell him once the pain dulls.
A delicate kiss is pressed on your shoulder blade before Jungkook draws back. His hands are firmly anchored in your hips. Jungkook pulls back until only the head of his cock is left between your walls. In a fluid motion, he bottoms out.
“Damn, you feel so fucking amazing,” he grunts, a harshness surrounds his tone. Jungkook loses himself. He finds his rhythm and thrusts inside your pussy with sharp motions.
You’re a mess beneath him. A moan of his name flees your throat. He smacks your ass and the sting rattles through you, tiny sparks fuelling the fire inside you.
“Faster,” you utter between pants. “Faster, Jungkook.” He picks up on his speed, hitting the sweet spot inside you in hastier succession. “Please don’t stop.” You sneak a hand between your legs. You press your index finger to your clit, stroking in swift circles.
Jungkook gathers your hair in one hand, twisting it around his fist. Your head lifts, back arching.
“You’re gonna cum for me?”
You’re barely able to register Jungkook’s question. Your high is inbound, threatening to spill over. “Y-yes.” It’s a broken cry, Jungkook’s rapid lunges of his hips make it practically impossible to talk.
“Please make me cum.”
“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?” Mock sympathy laces his voice. His makeshift ponytail tugs you back. Your hands are merely touching the wall for support, but Jungkook has a secure hold on you.
You reply with an impatient whine.
“You’ve been such a good girl,” Jungkook muses. His grip on your waist tenses, delivering a particularly hard thrust. You curse at the way his cock kisses the deepest part inside you. “I think you deserve to cum.”
Oh God.
His hand with your hair bundled in his palm pulls you back to him. You reluctantly let your hands slip from the tiled wall.
“I’ve got you,” Jungkook assures. He snakes both his arms around you, keeping you safe. He gently nudges your hand between your thighs. You comply, allowing Jungkook to replace your fingers. “I’m gonna make you cum.” His voice promises into your ear. A shiver crawls up your spine. His possessive ass likes to receive credit for everything.
Jungkook’s middle finger rubs over your clit in circular motions. Your head tips back, completely engulfed in Jungkook’s enchanting touches on your body.
“So close.” Your head falls back against his shoulder. Your sweet moans fill his ear.
“Pretty girl.” Jungkook’s nose nuzzles your cheek. “Cum for me.” His other hand rests against your lower tummy. His palm puts pressure on that spot. Your eyes roll in utter euphoria.
When the taut coil snaps inside you, a fuzzy feeling rushes through your entire body. It makes your body tingle with bliss. The feeling is overwhelming your senses, your eyes can’t stay focused. You moan weakly, legs shaking.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises. His words send warms chills on your skin.
His finger on your clit slows down. Jungkook lets you ride out your high, his thrusts deep and lazy.
When you peek a glance at him, you see him with brows knitted in pleasure. His dark hair is wet, long hair a mess on his head that you can’t wait to comb later. Jungkook’s sturdy body glistens with water and sweat, his shredded chest momentarily steals your attention until your eyes get distracted by the shimmering tattoos adorning his entire right arm, from hand to shoulder.
His colourful tattoos complete the look and add something irresistible to him, ridiculously charming – an impeccable portrayal of a ravishing man you should keep your distance from, but what can you say, your connection is like a magnet pulling you to him. You had kept your distance from him – even back when you two were still in high school and he was a grade above you – but once a taste of what it’s like to be with Jungkook and you became, mutually, addicted.
And as long as your brother doesn’t get a whiff of it – everything's fine.
“Wanna cum inside,” Jungkook breathes. His hand grips your ass tightly. “Can I cum inside?”
You rarely allow him to cum inside, but the way a desperate, whiny pitch accompanied by little puffs and moans colour his voice lets you decide otherwise.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Cum inside me, fill me up, Jungkook.”
“Oh, fuck.” His fingers sink into your waist. Jungkook fucks you relentlessly. “Gonna fill your pussy.”
With a guttural moan he pounds deep inside you, painting your walls white. Sloppy thrusts follow as he spills everything inside you, breathless noises hanging in the air.
Jungkook’s gingerly pulls his cock out, lightly tapping it against your pussy coated in your mixed juices.
“Bend over.”
Your hands are flat against the wall again, arching your back for Jungkook.
“Shit.” His palms smooth over the expanse of your ass. “Your tiny pussy looks so good filled up with my cum.”
You giggle. You feel his digits gently trace over your folds. He dips his finger in your cum filled hole.
“Up,” he instructs.
When you stand in front of him again, he holds his finger coated with his cum in front of your face.
On instinct, you open your mouth for him.
You close your lips around the pad of his tatted finger. Your tongue swirls around it, the taste of his cum spreading in your mouth.
Jungkook wears a fond smile on his face. He removes his finger when you swallow. “Good girl.”
Suddenly, someone yells your name from outside the bathroom.
You shriek.
“Relax, it’s just me.” Taehyung.
What the hell is he doing here so early?
You take a step back from Jungkook. “What do you want?” you yell.
“I think I left my AirPods here.”
Your eyebrows draw together in annoyance. “You came all the way back for that?”
Taehyung ignores your accusatory tone. “Can I come in? They gotta be here.”
You send a worried glance at Jungkook. But he just nods, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze.
The shower curtain is opaque. If Jungkook stays silent he won’t notice anything.
Jungkook pushes the shower curtain aside, pointing at the pile of clothes. Your pyjamas mixed with his jogging attire. Shit.
“Hold on a second,” you tell Taehyung, trying not to sound too panicked.
“I won’t look, _ _ _.” Taehyung’s voice drips in impatience.
“Just wait.”
You hurry to bend down, careful not to slip, and pick up Jungkook’s clothes from the floor. Jungkook hands linger on your hips to keep you safe. As you draw back, he pulls back the shower curtain and covers you both in the tiny shower.
“You can come in now.”
You hear him push down the doorknob. The door creaks a little as Taehyung enters the bathroom.
“It’s like a fucking sauna in here,” Taehyung comments.
The water is steaming hot – your choice, not Jungkook’s.
Your heart runs lapses in your chest. Your hand reaches for Jungkook’s arm, tightly holding onto him.
“Don’t forget that mum and dad are coming over this weekend.”
You mentally groan at his reminder.
Your first semester has just barely started a few months ago, but your parents can’t wait to check up on you.
“I know,” you reply.
“I think they wanna have dinner with Minho and his parents.”
Now you can’t suppress your piqued groan. Your forehead hits Jungkook’s biceps.
Taehyung chuckles. “You’re gonna pretend to be sick?”
“Mum will know.”
“Is me breaking his nose for you better?” You hear the smile on his face, but if you said yes, he’d totally do it.
You laugh. “Leave him alone. I don’t even know who he is.”
“Found them!” Taehyung calls. “Gonna leave now. Love ya!” You hear his steps leading him outside the bathroom. The door shuts close.
Jungkook and you remain silent until you’re sure that Taehyung left the apartment.
You heave a relieved sigh.
“That was close,” you mutter against his skin. Jungkook doesn’t say anything.
“So who’s Minho?” Jungkook briefly moves his arm to nudge your head.
“Just a guy who studies here as well.” You prop your chin up on his arm, looking up at him. “My parents are friends with his. They want me to meet him.”
Jungkook nods pensively. His palms slide down your back.
“Jungkook,” you warn when you feel him give your ass a squeeze.
“What? Lemme play with you a little more.”
“But it’s time for conditioner.” He grabs your hand mid-air, before you can fetch the conditioner.
He intertwines your fingers. “Just a little more.” Jungkook nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.
Your eyes flutter close.
Your arms loop around his shoulders. A shaky breath springs from your chest when you feel Jungkook’s fingers between your legs.
“Gonna make you feel good. I promise.”
Jungkook is insatiable and you’re willing to give him every part of you.
The perfect match.
~
Hours later, you sit in class.
The lecture is almost done. You find yourself habitually scribbling doodles on your iPad, next to your notes.
You keep thinking back on the incident this morning and how Jungkook and you could’ve gotten caught. Maybe there shouldn’t be any visits from him at your place anymore – it's way too hazardous.
You don’t want Taehyung to find out. But you also don’t want to lie to him if you continue tackle this matter imprudently.
Your phone vibrates with a new message. You tilt the screen to your view. An immediate smile unfurls as you read Jungkook’s name.
Jungkook
hey
just wanted to make sure that you’re coming to the game later?
You
i am !! i'm excited
Jungkook
i’ll make sure to win for you
You
hihi
Jungkook
watchu up to rn
You
i’m in class
i’m bored
i don’t have friends
and i'm hungry
Jungkook
poor girl
you wanna come a lil earlier to the game?
You
why?
Jungkook
just so I can see you before the game starts
You
you’ll find me in the bleachers
like you always do
Jungkook
my eyes detect the pretty real fast ;)
You
🙄
Jungkook
so you don’t wanna give me luck before the game :(
You
how early are we talking about?
i still have classes
Jungkook
i dont know
enough time to give me sum good luck
You
what kind of giving luck are we talking about
🤨
Jungkook
you know
just
a little good luck kiss
You
good luck kiss?
you're annoying
Jungkook
i miss your lips
You
you’re sure no one will be there?
Jungkook
if you come early enough
You
i’ll come
just briefly
Jungkook
see ya princess
You’re gonna skip class to give Jeon Jungkook head.
The woman you are.
~
Jungkook slips you in the empty locker room without anyone noticing.
You both have mastered the ability to sneak into places unobserved, it seems.
“Just wanna stress that I skipped a class for you.” An accusing tone resonates in your voice as you turn to him, a finger poking his chest.
A bewitching smile swirls on Jungkook’s mouth. “Well, I’m happy that when you do, on a rare occasion, it’s to spend time with me.” He catches your finger easily, wrapping his hand around your wrist smoothly. Jungkook steps closer.
You can’t deny the giddy bubbles in your tummy whenever Jungkook flirts with you. It’s a prompt reaction – almost natural.
“You want your good luck kiss now?” The way he is staring down at you makes you feel a little jittery, but you keep his intense gaze, bashing your eyelashes up at him.
He traces a line with his knuckle along your jawline. “Whatever,” he answers. “Just the time I spend with you will bring me enough luck.”
A frustrated pout adorns your face. “I skipped class for this?”
“You don’t like spending time with me?” Jungkook’s brow quirks, a small playful smile curving his lips.
“No,” you deny vehemently. “I do like it. I just thought we were gonna do a little more than that.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I think you want it even more than me.”
Heat crawls into your cheeks. “So what?” You try to hide your growing shyness. “You were the one begging me to come here.”
“That’s right.” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, just the hint of a touch. “ ’Cause you always make me feel so good, princess.”
Shivers, everywhere. Jungkook leans down. He wants to tease you, you know it, but you stand on your tip toes and close the distance. You catch his mouth in a fierce kiss, fingers going straight into his hair, dishevelling the mess of his curls.
He walks backwards, pulling you along him until his calves hit the locker room bench and he slowly sits down. With his hands gripping your waist, he tugs you onto his lap.
“How much time do we have?” you whisper against his neck when he presses kisses down your throat.
“Don’t worry about it.” His lips move to your earlobe and he sinks his teeth into your soft skin.
“Jungkook.” You wanted to sound solemn, but it falls from you like a moan when his hands squeeze your ass. “I don’t want anyone finding us like this.”
“Then lets hurry.”
You shoot him a wide-eyed glance. “Excuse me?”
Jungkook ignores you and pulls you in for another kiss.
You are used to this, though. Spending your time with Jungkook like this always meant hurried touches and second look glances at the surroundings.
Your hips grind on his lap. Jungkook curses, his forehead falling onto your chest.
“I love this place,” he murmurs, palming your boobs through your tight sweater top. You giggle.
The bulge in his pants is pressing against you. Your hand clasps around it, squeezing a little. Jungkook groans at the feeling of your hand.
“I need you on your knees. Right now,” he commands in a rasp.
With a mischievous smile you sink down to your knees. Your trapped between his thighs. Jungkook quickly gets rid of his pants and briefs, pushing them down to his knees.
Jungkook’s cock lies against his abdomen. It’s pretty and salivating, his veiny length coloured in an angry red.
He strokes his cock, his thumb swiping across his glistening tip. “Open wide for me.” You feel his hand on the base of your neck. You obey nimbly, tilting your head upwards and sticking out your tongue.
Jungkook taps his cock against your tongue. The wet sound it produces sinking straight into your core. When he pushes his dick inside your mouth, you swirl your tongue around him. A string of curses follow the warm feeling of your mouth.
His cock is heavy between your lips. It reminds you of how his sheer size stretches your pussy when he fucks you, his mushroom tip rubbing against your sensitive spot and making you roll your eyes at the intensity. Your nails leave crescent marks in Jungkook’s thighs when you take him deeper.
“Just like that.” His voice gains something sharp and piercing.
You’re breathless when you pull off. You hold his length to your mouth; a dribble of spit runs down from his tip.
Jungkook moans at the sight of you spitting on his cock. He wants to shut his eyes and let your sinful mouth overtake every sensible part of him, but he can’t draw his eyes from you – his cock between your plump lips, your sparkly eyes looking up at him, a little teary because his size is still a little too much for you. Angelic.
Jungkook wants to blow his load right then and there.
Your head bobs up and down, palm stroking the part you can’t reach. The air is filled with wet, slurping sounds alongside Jungkook’s scratchy groans. You lap at the underside of Jungkook’s cock, tongue rolling around his head when you reach it, a kitten lick at his slit to add your teasing.
His dick twitches in your grasp. “Fuck.” He gathers loose strands in his palm. His hand lingers on the back of your head with your hair in a bundle to support you.
He urges you forward and your mouth closes around him again. Jungkook pressures you to take his cock deeper and you take his length further until your nose pokes his crotch. With shimmering eyes, you blink repetitively, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
“God, you look so fucking pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth.” Jungkook hisses, keeping you down there. You swallow and his cock twitches again, the curse that flees his chest is low and it does something to your pussy.
He pulls you off his cock, just to push you down again. You gag, eyes tightly closed as Jungkook has his way with you.
“Love to hear you gag for me.” A deep crease appears between his eyebrows. “So good at taking my cock. Gonna make me fucking cum.”
Jungkook’s muscular thighs shake beneath your palms. His hips move desirously upwards, full length sheathed in your throat.
“Gonna cum – fuck ‘m gonna cum. You’re gonna swallow like the good girl you are?”
Jungkook’s cum shoots inside you. His hand in your hair goes limp. You suck on his tip, lazily stroking his dick to pump everything out while he’s breathing heavily above you. He hisses when your gentle touches are too much from him, pulling his cock from your mouth.
“Swallowed everything?” His voice is low, a little drowsy from his high. His fingers smooth over your hair to tame the mess he has created.
“Uh-huh.” A smile is on your face. You give his spent cock a peck before you rise.
Jungkook pulls his clothes back on. You walk to your bag discarded on the floor to search for tissues.
“There’s no way we’re losing the game today,” Jungkook says, smirking.
While you somewhat clean your hands you say, “Don’t jinx it.” When you’re done, you grab your phone.
“I’m not. We’re winning this.”
You stand in front of him. “Can you hold this?” You hand him your phone with the camera app opened, the screen showing you. Your fingers fold around his wrist to get the perfect angle of your face and you start fixing the mess of mascara Jungkook was the cause of.
“You don’t believe in me?”
“No, I do.” Impishness sways in your tone.
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Princess, you should know me better than that.” He cocks his head, eyes intently watching you. “If we win, I’ll have my way with you tonight. If we don’t, you’re in charge.”
A tiny giggle escapes you at his proposal.
“Sure.”
You’re in for a ride.
~
Watching a hockey game of your brother has always been fun.
Not particularly because you are a fan of the game, but because you like to see Taehyung beam in his love and passion for it. You’ve always been a big supporter of his.
What made the games a tiny speck more enjoyable for you was his hot best friend playing with him.
You can’t keep your eyes off Jungkook. You keep searching for him, observing every move and play.
Sometimes you have to force yourself to pry your eyes away and see what your brother is doing.
It’s hard to force your attention away from Jungkook, but it’s even tougher to feign nonchalance because you attended the game with Chanyeol – a friend from class, but you two initially became friends at a frat party.
He usually tags along with you, together with your friend Naeun but she couldn’t accompany you today – too swamped with work.
“Taehyung’s really amazing.”
Chanyeol’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your eyes fly from Jungkook to Taehyung, your throat constricts like you’ve been caught in a criminal act.
“I know,” you say, a little awkward. “He’s always been this good.”
It’s half-time. The fifteen-minute break has just started. The bleachers are crowded, though some are leaving to use the small break.
Suddenly, the huge screens show close ups of the viewers.
The kiss cam.
The couple shown on the screen starts kissing and the entire audience cheers.
You’ve never been on the kiss cam. There are too many people in the audience anyway, the chances to appear on it are low.
Unbothered, you turn to Chanyeol.
“You’re coming to the party this Saturday?” he asks.
“My parents are coming over this weekend.” You sigh at the thought of it. “I doubt I’ll be able to go out.”
“Yikes.”
Your phone vibrates. You unlock it to find a new message from Naeun. You’re occupied with texting Naeun when Chanyeol faintly nudges his knees to yours.
“I’m sorry, I-” When you look up, you see yourself on the big screen. “Oh!” you squeal surprised.
Chanyeol laughs beside you. A rush of excitement and nervousness courses through your system.
Chanyeol’s eyebrows raise in question.
Should you? Chanyeol doesn’t have a girlfriend, you don’t have a boyfriend. There’s nothing to lose, really. Exhilaration is clouding your judgement.
Slowly, a timid smile curves your lips upwards.
You lean in closer. Chanyeol takes the hint and cups your cheek. When his lips touches yours, your tummy tingles. You share a heated kiss, your body leaning in closer as you get lost in it for a brief second.
The applaud and cheers are blocked by your ears. You only focus is Chanyeol.
The moment doesn’t last long. When you both break the kiss, you smile at each other, giggles surrounding you.
The kiss cam isn’t focused on you anymore, another couple on the screen.
“You’re a good kisser,” Chanyeol compliments teasingly.
“That was fun,” you reply, the thrill of it all making you feel light in the head.
When you cast your glance to the field, it slowly subsides.
Taehyung is looking at you with sharp look. You know your brother too well. His expression translates to are you fucking serious?
Yes, you want to answer. Lemme have fun for once.
Your eyes roll unintendedly when you avert your gaze from Taehyung. But they, somehow, instantly land on Jungkook.
Your chest flutters, even from a distance his effect on you is intense.
The look he gives you is blistering, straight into your soul.
No matter how this is will end, Jungkook is gonna have his way with you either way.
Oh, now you are definitely in for a ride.
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
read pt 2 here <3
6K notes · View notes
kamiversee · 2 months
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 41 || The Cute Bartender
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, very cute fluff, & teasing.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.6k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——YOUR QUESTION REMAINS unanswered for quite some time. To constantly weigh out your options of who would be a better lover for you is going to take time.
But, as of right now, even if you wanted to choose Gojo over Choso, he's already made it clear he's not allowing that. He doesn't think he's good for you and, in case you forgot, you're technically supposed to hate him.
That being said, your choice is already made for you.
But none of that is important right now. You were allowed a break until the semester began again but, since your university's winter break was a span of two, almost three months, you were honestly ready to finish the list by late January.
Even though you said you were taking a break from the men, you still kept in contact with them. You'd text Choso on some days but he'd often scold you about how you wanted a break, which only made you want to talk to him more.
Then, you even had your phone calls with Gojo which consisted of him doing the same damn thing-- pestering you by saying 'As much as I love listening to you talk, sweets, you're supposed to be taking a break from me' which, was just as sweet as the messages Choso would send.
Yeah, you were definitely falling for both of them in your own way and nothing could stop that. Even so, you were ready to get back to the list.
There was one name left. You couldn't believe it. As of now, you were laid out on your bed, your delicate fingers curled around a pen as you went down the list of yours. Reading over each name reminded you of your experiences with them, whether it was good or bad, and you were surprised you finally made it this far.
At one point, you doubted you could even do this. So many lessons have been learned, so many personalities and so many situations have been experienced. It's almost, emphasis on almost, beautiful when you think back on it.
To go from a broke and regular college student to one whose life is filled with drama, good (for the most part) sex, and men who've somehow managed to fall for you. It's the kinda thing you never imagined for yourself.
Just one semester ago, you were worried about even landing a job and now look at you; you've managed the money from Gojo better than ever so you're truly set for quite some time.
With a sigh, you place the pen down beside your journal and trace your fingers over the final name; Nanami Kento. Once you sleep with him it's over. It's almost bittersweet to think about.
As you stare at your journal, you think you have a plan for it once the list is complete. A plan that you've talked to Gojo about and he's agreed to-- the two of you are going to burn the list.
Neither of you want any physical evidence of it so you think burning it once it's complete will prove to be a nice way to say goodbye to the memories that come with the list. Nowhere in your text messages or his do you two discuss the list explicitly, just in case someone were ever to go through your devices, and the only time it's been talked about aside from in person is over phone calls.
But, you're not worrying about that getting out. Someone would have to dig really deep to find the recordings of you and Gojo's phone calls. Like, to the police deep to find them. Or hacking your cell. But, you have no reason to worry about that, right? Gojo said he's not involved in anything illegal and you trust him (to some extent).
So again, it's bittersweet to think about this list finally coming to an end. It was like a game you had to play and knowing that the end credits were about to roll soon just made you feel odd inside. Yeah, you wanted it to end but as it was actually happening, it was like leaving a chapter of your life behind.
After all, you'll never be able to undo what's been done. You can't go back and change who you've slept with or how.
So, with that final little thought, you sigh again and then shut your journal. Getting up to put it away in its locked drawer compartment, you wonder what it'll be like to finally meet Nanami.
You have a good feeling about him.
And no, not one of those good feelings that result in disaster but, an actual good feeling. Something about the thought of this tall, blonde, and sexy man whose facial expression holds a stupidly attractive seriousness at all times just makes you feel calm.
You feel like you're going to be dealing with someone so mature that it'll ease your mind, kind of like how your mind was at ease when you first met Choso.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
And you had every right to be in good spirits about meeting Nanami because the man did, in fact, turn out to be one of the best and lightest experiences for you.
Despite how difficult he may seem, Nanami is just a man you couldn't catch at the right time. That was the only reason why you ever considered him to be 'hard' to seduce. And no, it's not some magical effect you had that made your efforts work, it was this genuine and raw connection that formed when you met him.
It was surely a night to be remembered.
A simple pair of black heels lightly clacked against the floor as you walked with your head held high into that damned nightclub-- the same nightclub in which you couldn't run into Nanami at the right time for the longest. This night was different though, as you had arrived before him for once.
It wasn't planned or anything but, your arrival to the building was before he'd gotten there. The dress you wore to accompany the heels on your feet was just as simple and was shaded in the same color; black. It was moderately tight-fitting and hugged your body just right.
Unlike some of your past dresses, it didn't make you feel like you were going all out and you thought you blended in nicely with everyone else that was there. Around your neck was that same necklace Gojo gifted to you on Christmas as you never really had the heart to leave home without it on.
Your excuse for wearing it all the time was because it was really pretty. It had nothing to do with Gojo of course. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself anyway.
Making your way to the bar, you took a seat in an area you knew Nanami to typically sit at and then you scouted the area for either him or the cute brown-haired friend he's always with. Finding nothing and no one, you sigh and decide to order a drink.
After which, you gave yourself thirty minutes before you'd leave and try again in another two weeks. You didn't even tell Gojo you were starting back up on the list yet so it's not like there was any pressure for you to seduce Nanami tonight, maybe that's what made everything so different.
Your nails tapped across the bar as you waited and at some point, you even made conversation with the cheeky bartender. The thing about this bartender is that you've seen him talk to Nanami plenty of times and you're pretty sure they're friends.
He had this really cute face and pretty brown eyes that made you feel safe in a strange way. Every time you see him he's got this beanie on top of his head and his clothes are always baggy, something you saw his manager scold him about a few times at one point.
Either way, today was your first time actually talking to him and you learn that his name is Ino Takuma and that he actually recognizes you, having paid attention to the few times you've been there.
"Are you waiting on someone, beautiful?" Ino had questioned you.
Oh yeah, and he's also been complimenting you nonstop from the moment you two began talking. It's in a friendly way, you think. It doesn't seem like he's flirting, just being kind, which you like.
You smiled at the man, "Is it that obvious?"
He makes this silly face in thought and you note how expressive he is. "Hmmmm, I mean for me, yeah. But that's only because I see you come here around the same time every two weeks."
"Yeah?" You meet his eyes with a smile on your face and he holds the eye contact for at least five seconds before he looks away. He's adorable. "So, you've really been paying attention to me all this time?" You ask before going to take another sip of your preferred drink of the night.
Ino laughs and the sound is so joyful it almost heals something in you. "I mean, nooo..." He drags out, smiling through his words before he shrugs, "I pay attention to everyone. And plus, how could I forget a pretty face like yours?"
You're still staring at him and you don't think you've ever paid attention to how much someone avoids eye contact before dealing with Choso. After that man, it's so obvious to you now when someone gets nervous to look you in the eye for too long.
"Is that a compliment, Ino?" You ask softly, the use of his name making his ears flush a cute shade of pink.
He clears his throat and wipes down a part of the nearby counter. There are not that many people at the bar tonight so that gave him the leisure to speak to you. "...Yeah," Ino replies, trying to focus on his small task instead of your eyes gazing at his face.
You hum. "Thank you," You say before moving to rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you rest your elbow on the bar.
Ino finishes his little task and then places the cloth he used elsewhere, finally looking at you now that your eyes have gone elsewhere, "He'll be here soon, by the way."
You blink and your eyes flick up to Ino's face, confused by his words, "Who?"
He flashes that friendly smile at you, "Nanami."
You're not sure if you should pretend not to know who Nanami is or if you should ask how Ino knows you're waiting on the man. For now, you swallow, "Nanami?"
Ino moves his hand up and over his head a bit, "He's like this tall, blonde," The brown-haired male gestures toward his eyes, "Wears these funky glasses sometimes?"
You bat your eyelashes at him in confusion, "Okay... Why uh, why're you telling me he'll be here soon?"
"You know him, don't you?" Ino asks, his thin and well-kept brows furrowing a bit as he innocently tilts his head.
"I know of him, I suppose," You answer vaguely, "But, why'd you think I know him?"
His shoulders raised a bit, "Cause' he asked me about you."
You swallow the sudden nervous lump in your throat, "H-He asked about me? Why? When?"
Ino chuckles at the worry in your face. To him, it just seemed like you were nervous in a shy sort of way, "He just asked me if you came here any other times. Like, times when he's not here."
"Why?" You ask.
"I dunno'," Ino shrugs casually, "I think you caught his attention." He adds on with a little wink.
Your lips pull into a straight line, "I highly doubt that."
"Why? You're pretty," Ino compliments yet again.
"Thanks but I've seen Nanami enough times to know that I have not caught his attention. Trust me, I know how men operate when their attention is caught." You scoff as you glance over to the dance floor and watch some of the people there.
Ino doesn't seem to understand what exactly you mean by that and his brows furrow, "You caught my attention, and yet this is my first time talking to you." He points out.
Almost naturally, as if you'd grown accustomed to flirting, your gaze trails back over to the cute bartender and you smirk, words slipping out of your mouth without thought, "I've caught your attention? How so?" You ask, unintentionally adding a sultriness to your tone.
He gulps and his eyes avoid yours yet again, "I mean you are an attractive woman. S-So I just mean it in that you catch more people's eye than you think. A-And uh, y'know, not everyone's gonna approach you first because sometimes attractive people make others nervous..." He stammers out.
He's so ridiculously nervous and it's the cutest thing. You lift your head from your hand and cross your arms over the counter, leaning forward a little and your chest unknowingly growing more visible as you do so, "Am I making you nervous right now, Ino?" You whisper.
Okay, now you're purposefully teasing him.
He chuckles, kinda awkwardly, "N-No? Pfft... I'm not nervous. Y-You-," He clears his throat, "You're not making me nervous."
You raise but a single brow and keep your gaze on him, "You can't even look me in the eyes while we talk."
Ino suddenly looks at you, meeting your unwavering gaze and sweating a bit. "I'm lookin' at you now."
You stare long and hard, right into those brow irises of his and he tries to stare back but, he can't help but glance to the left or right for a split second before trying to keep his eyes on yours.
A slow and taunting smile spreads across your features, "Barely." You point out.
He rolls his eyes and sighs, "Whatever. I wasn't nervous I'm jus' not good with eye contact."
You tilt your head at him and narrow your eyes, "That's not true."
"Eh?" Ino's brows push together, "How are you gonna' tell me..." He says with a pout.
You giggle, "You manage eye contact with everyone else just fine."
He moves for a nearby empty glass someone's placed down, and glances at you as he does so, "So you've been paying attention to me, then?"
Of course, your eyes have hardly left his. It's fun teasing someone like this, "A bit, yeah."
Ino moves with the empty glass to place it with other dirty ones, humming a little nervously, "Oh..." As he does so. Then, you watch him pick up a clean glass and move to make a new drink right in front of you.
"Is that okay?" You murmur. Your voice has this purposeful flirtiness to it and it does not go unnoticed, "Am I allowed to pay attention to you, Ino?"
He gulps, "Course' you can."
Your eyes drop to the glass in his hands as he pours alcohol into it and you smirk, "Ino..."
His gaze flicks to your face for a moment, "H-Hm?"
"You're shaking." You point out.
Ino nearly fumbles the glass in his hand entirely and you watch him miss the cup for a moment, a bit of the liquid he'd been pouring trickling onto his hand and then the floor, "Shit," He curses.
You chuckle slightly at first, earning a little pouty glare from the man.
Then as he goes to clean up you hear him mumbling to you, "That's not funny..."
Your chuckling proceeds to elevate into genuine laughter, "Yeah it is," You snicker, "You're adorable, holy fuck."
Ino's face is a little red as your words hit his ears and he drops down to clean the mess on the floor. After which, he pops right back into your line of vision, seeing you still laughing at him and pouting yet again.
"I am not 'adorable'," Ino grumbles.
You giggle, "Yes, you are."
He shakes his head and sighs in this sassy kinda way, "Am' not."
"Are too," You argue.
His eyes meet yours and despite being embarrassed, he's got a little smile back on his face, "Nuh-uh."
You nod, “Yuh-huh."
Ino then rolls his eyes, still smiling, before he puts all the items he had in his hands down to the side. You then watch one hand drop down into his pocket before his phone is pulled out. Ino unlocks the device and then places it in front of you, sliding it closer to you with an empty contact slot on the screen.
"Put your number in here," He sighs, smoothly requesting your contact info like it's nothing.
You raise a brow, "Are you asking for it or are you demanding it?"
Those almost innocent brown eyes of his trail over to yours and he holds eye contact for a longer moment, "I'm asking. I like talking to you so, can I get your number?"
"Hmmm..." You hum playfully, purposefully taking your time to answer, "Is this to be friends or something more?"
He's still looking you in the eyes, "Uh, friends? I'm not sure I could even handle a woman like you."
You raise a brow.
"I mean that in a good way," Ino clarifies.
You shrug and move to enter your number in his phone, "Thanks. I was only asking that 'cause I uh..."
He tilts his head and watches your fingers tap across his screen, "...Have a lot going on?"
"Something like that, yeah." You answer before you finish adding your info and then slide the phone back to him.
He picks up his cell and pockets it before shrugging, "I see, well, if this makes you feel any better, I always try to get people's numbers after a nice conversation with them."
You frown playfully, "Aw, so I'm not special?"
Again, he's flustered, "W-Well, I mean you are b-but I just-"
"Ino," You snicker, "I'm just teasing you, relax."
He rolls his eyes again and sighs, "You're driving me crazy."
For one last time, you tilt your head and give him this flirtatious look, "Am I?"
Ino looks at your expression and gulps, "Yes ma'am."
Okay, is it weird that a part of you wishes he was on the list too? Holy shit is teasing this man fun. Even so, you've got enough men to worry about in your life and you don't need to add to that.
You chuckle and your expression returns to something more platonic, "Alright, I'll stop then."
"Please," Ino begs quietly in a joking manner.
That makes you laugh again and this time, he laughs along with you. Then, you watch him go back to preparing that drink from earlier and he does it flawlessly this time, his nerves calmed after you stop all your teasing.
As the drink is finished, you sip on yours and then a pleasant smell slithers into your nose. It's cologne, a strong but ridiculously pleasant scent filling your nostrils. You blink a few times as you take in what you're smelling and for a second, you wonder if it's coming from Ino because he got kinda close as the drink he prepared was placed next to you.
Your question is answered within the next second though because you hear a voice that accompanies the scent. A deep, sexy, and soothing voice that makes your posture straighten due to how surprisingly close to you it is.
Nothing more than a simple, "Thank you," Was voiced but even so, it was extremely attractive.
Then, you curiously turn to where the voice came from, which was to your right, and you're met with your last target; Nanami Kento.
There he was, in the flesh, right next to you. Like, literally sitting in the barstool next to yours. And that drink Ino made? Yeah, it was his. Your eyes were all over the man, drinking in his features shamelessly.
The man seemed to be more muscular than you thought he was as the blue button-up shirt he wore clung to his body so delectably. The sleeves were rolled up near his elbows and you could see how muscular his arm was, veins decorating his skin as they became visible from his elbow and down.
The shirt was just hugging his body and you couldn't help but stare. Then, for a moment you look down at his pants. He wore these khakis that were just as fucking tight as his shirt and you swear you didn't mean to look at his crotch but because of the way he sat it was like your eyes were there before you even rendered it.
God, his pants hugged his thighs and you just drink in the way his hips push up slightly as he adjusts the way he sits. Holy fuck, you had to force your eyes up because you swore you could see his manhood, or at least imagine what he's hiding beneath those clothes of his.
So, your eyes went back up to areas more respectable to look at, such as his shirt, which you noticed he had enough buttons undone to reveal a teasing amount of his chest. His collarbone was so sharp and defined and you could only imagine the rest of his body.
Then, you trailed up just a bit more to his neck, then his jaw which was sharp as fuck, to his defined cheekbones, and then his eyes-
And shit.
He was already looking at you.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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withleeknow · 4 months
Text
wishful thinking. (02)
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chapter two: in plain sight
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summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you
boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House
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You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.
True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.
You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.
Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.
Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.
Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.
When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied. 
You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.
“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.
“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”
“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.
He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”
He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.
“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”
“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”
“Is my attention not enough for you?”
You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.
He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”
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The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.
The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.
You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.
“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”
“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”
You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”
“You look that good to come to my party?”
You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.
“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”
“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”
You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.
“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”
You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.
“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”
“Stop lying. It’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”
“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”
Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”
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After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”
“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”
Your favorite.
You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.
“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”
“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.
“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.
“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”
“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”
“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”
You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.
One for you, one for him.
One part rum, two and a half parts coke.
“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”
“You’re loud too.”
“My brand of loud is different.”
“Is it?”
He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.
“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”
When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.
“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”
Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.
“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”
“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”
You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”
“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”
You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.
Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.
And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.
Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.
“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”
He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes. 
“And what if I am?”
There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.
Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.
“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”
He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”
There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.
Again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.
You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”
“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.
“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.
“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”
“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”
You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).
Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.
It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.
The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.
“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately. 
“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.
Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”
“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”
“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”
“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”
“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”
“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”
“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”
“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”
“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”
Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”
Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.
Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.
His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”
“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods. 
“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly. 
“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”
“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”
Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.
Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”
“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.
“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”
“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”
“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”
“Hyunjin, I swear to-”
“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”
Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.
Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.
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Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.
Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.
But you decided to make an exception for tonight.
Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.
You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield. 
You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.
Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.
“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”
He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.
He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.
“Better?” he asks.
You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.
“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”
“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”
You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”
“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”
“What card?”
“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”
You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”
“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”
This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.
“How violent,” you comment with a snort.
“He deserves it.”
“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.
“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.
“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”
He grins. “Could you blame me?”
Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.
The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.
“Are you still drunk?” he asks.
“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.
“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”
For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?
He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.
You want him to kiss you too. You really do.
“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.
“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”
He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.
Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.
The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.
The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.
You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.
He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.
You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.
He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.
As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.
“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.
“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”
“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”
“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”
Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”
“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”
“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.
“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.
Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.01.2024]
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sidekick-hero · 3 months
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(steddie | teen | 1.4k | tags: college au, meet-cute thank to a fire alarm | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is giving him your sweater even if it makes you cold by @stevesbipanic | AO3)
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Everyone had told Steve that college would be so much fun. Freedom from the crushing expectations of his parents breathing down his neck. Parties every weekend and a huge dating pool to choose from. An open-minded and progressive culture that made exploring his sexuality easy and fun instead of kind of suicidal like it had been in his small-minded hometown in Bumfuck Indiana.
What no one had told him was that telling his father that he didn't want to go to business school, that he wanted to teach, would result in his father refusing to pay Steve's tuition.
They didn't disown him, but his parents made it clear that they thought his time in college was a waste of time. At least as long as he was studying something his parents considered beneath a Harrington. To them, becoming a teacher basically meant becoming someone else's doormat just because he wanted to teach their kids.
So he was on his own financially, which frankly took a lot of the fun out of college. Suddenly, partying and dating had to take a back seat to the fact that paying for rent, food, and tuition meant limiting his college experience.
It meant working before or after class.
It meant working his ass off for his classes so he could graduate as soon as possible.
It meant living in the dorms instead of his own place.
Which is exactly what led to him standing outside in the middle of the night in the freezing cold of October in just his boxers and hoodie because some asshole set off the fire alarm in their building.
Steve shivered as he huddled with his fellow freezing students in the dimly lit courtyard, glancing around to see if anyone had brought extra clothes. The chilly wind cut through him, and he cursed his luck for not grabbing a coat when the fire alarm blared through the dorm. He was glad that he had his hoodie right next to his bed so grabbing it on his way out of bed was almost second nature. His sleep-shirt, even thinner and softer from constant wear, was not much in the face of the chilly October weather in Chicago.
As the students exchanged disgruntled glances and whispered complaints, Steve noticed a figure huddled alone on a bench, looking particularly uncomfortable in the cold. Squinting through the dim light, he recognized the boy who lived two doors down from him — Eddie.
All in all, they had exchanged a handful of words, for while Steve was a morning person, often up before the sun to go running, Eddie was a night person by choice. Their paths most often crossed in the wee hours of the morning, one's day beginning as the other's was ending. If Steve were telling the whole truth, he would have to admit that he had tried to time his morning runs to make it more likely that he would run into Eddie.
The guy was cute, sue him. Dimples, big chocolate brown doe eyes, dark curls often tamed into a messy bun at the back of his head so that his tantalizing collarbones peeked out from under the collar of his too-big shirts. It drove Steve a little crazy, but so far he hadn't done anything about it.
Maybe this was his chance to fix that.
Despite the biting cold, Eddie offered a shy smile as Steve approached. "Hey, Steve, right? I'd say it was good to see you, but to be honest, I like it better when I run into you in the hallway."
"Yeah, that's me," Steve replied with a small chuckle, trying to shake off the cold. "Mind if I sit here? It's freezing."
"Go ahead," Eddie said, making room on the bench.
Steve sat down and soon they were huddled together for warmth. It was surprisingly nice, even if he still wished he was somewhere warmer. In the midst of the chilly chaos that had become this random Wednesday night, Steve couldn't help but feel a strange connection forming between him and Eddie as they both sat on that lone bench watching a fire truck arrive. There was a sense of camaraderie that hadn't been present in their earlier nods and small talk in the hallway because of the shared discomfort of their current situation.
Maybe this whole ordeal could turn out to be a blessing in disguise.
They started talking, finding common ground in the shared annoyance of the fire alarm and the absurdity of being forced out into the cold in the middle of the night. As they chatted, Steve couldn't help but notice how easy it was to talk to Eddie.
"You look even colder than I do," Steve remarked after a while, having noticed that Eddie's wiry frame was shaking more and more.
"I didn't have time to grab anything. I was just about to crash when the alarm went off," Eddie explained, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
Without a second thought, Steve unzipped his hoodie and draped it over Eddie’s shoulders. "Here, it's not much, but it's better than nothing."
Eddie's eyes widened in surprise and a warmth flooded Steve's chest as he watched the boy pull the hoodie tighter around him. "Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it. But now you don't have anything. That shirt looks good on you, but not really warm."
It's true, Steve can already feel the goosebumps on his skin, but he's not ashamed to use that as an excuse to huddle even closer to Eddie. "It's okay, really. I’m running a little hot anyway. Besides, you could help keep me warm?" He added slyly, giving Eddie a long look from under his lashes and enjoying the adorable blush that rose to his cheeks.
"It would be my pleasure, my knight in shining armor. Or rather, my knight in a Queen shirt." With that, Eddie opened the hoodie and gestured for Steve to lean in. Having hoped for such a reaction, Steve scooted even closer, wrapped his arms around Eddie's middle and let him drape the hoodie around them both.
As they sat there, sharing the hoodie and enduring the cold together, Steve found himself drawn to Eddie in a way he hadn't expected. While he'd found Eddie cute from the start, it was only now that he felt this almost magnetic pull toward the other boy, and their laughter amidst the chaos of the fire alarm only strengthened that feeling. Half an hour ago Steve had been ready to call this the worst night of his college experience and now he felt warm and safe, something settling inside him that he hadn't even realized was out of place.
Steve was in the middle of telling Eddie a story about the gaggle of kids he was babysitting at home and how they were coming to visit him soon. Just as he was telling him about his hunt for one of those weird dice sets with too many sides for the nerd game the kids were playing, they were surprised by the sudden sound of silence that filled the air.
The absence of the blaring fire alarm signaled the all-clear to return to their rooms.
As the crowd in front of them began to disperse, Eddie reluctantly started to remove the hoodie from around them, clearly wanting to give it back. Steve stopped him, though, enjoying the sight of Eddie in his hoodie far too much.
He realized he didn't want Eddie to give the hoodie back. He didn't want this night to end here and go back to his room, to his bed, alone.
"You know, I've got a coffee maker in my room. Want to warm up with a cup?" He suggested suddenly, trying to make his voice and eyes as inviting as possible as he looked hopefully at Eddie.
Eddie hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Steve's cautiously. But something in Steve's eyes must have told him what he was looking for, making him throw caution to the wind. "Sure, why not?"
Smiling broadly, Steve grabbed Eddie's hand and started walking toward their building. He had the feeling that he should be reeling more from the whiplash he had gotten that night, but all he could feel was the joy of anticipation.
They walked back inside, leaving the cold behind, and as Steve sipped a cup of warm coffee, he realized that sometimes unexpected circumstances can lead to the most beautiful connections. Little did he know that the accidental fire alarm would be the spark that ignited a flame of love in his heart that would burn hot and bright for decades to come.
It didn't even dim when, on their wedding day, Eddie confessed during their vows that he was the one who set off the fire alarm by falling asleep with a pizza in the oven.
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bbrissonn · 9 months
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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐳𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐬
summary: in which trevor broke up with you at the end of the season because of his own insecurity, but what happens when he's back in anaheim and he's had a little too much to drink
disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 
warnings: slight smut, angst, fluff, swearing (i think), not proofread  
pairing: trevor zegras x reader
wc: 4.9k (including lyrics)
a/n: based on the song bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo
guts masterlist
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Hey
You’re eyes scanned the bar as you, along with your group of friends, walked into the place. The loud music filling your ears, making you grimace slightly. This was your first time going out since your break up with Trevor at the end of his first full NHL season, back in April. He had made the decisions to end your relationship only hours before going on his last road trip of the season, and when he came back home a couple of days later, all your things were gone.
You hadn’t tried to reach out to him when he left, instead choosing of just leaving and moving back into your parent’s house for the summer. Your friends were with you everyday, not wanting the end of your year long relationship to destroy like your previous breakup did. They understood that you were in the mood to go out every night, or any night at all, so movie nights, walks on the beach, ice cream runs were a daily thing. 
Eventually, in early July, you started moving on from him, he hadn’t bothered to reach out to you either, so you had no choice but to do so. Slowly but surely, you started spending more time outside of your house, something your parents were grateful for. Then, you found yourself your own apartment, still close to home, but not too close to where Trevor lived so you wouldn't have to run into him in the store or on the streets. 
Now here you were, October only a couple of days away, standing at a bar with a bright smile on your face as your friends talked about all the drama they heard from your high school days, which couple were still together, which ones weren’t, some of them were now married with kids, something that shocked you a bit since you were only 21, but if that’s what they wanted, good on them, you thought. 
Haven’t heard from you in a couple of months
But I’m out right now and I’m all fucked up
And you’re callin’ my phone and you’re all alone
And I’m sensing some undertone
And I’m right here with all my friends
But you’re sending me your new address
And I know we’re done, I know we’re through
But, God, when I look at you
As the morning hours approached, it was safe to say you were completely drunk, somehow this casual night out, had turned into you guys celebrating going into your last year of college, meaning way more drinks were bought than expected. 
You were all sitting in a booth, laughs echoing, when you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans shorts. You struggled a bit, but eventually, you got your phone out, squinting your eyes to see who was calling you. 
❌trevor❌
You let out a sigh watching your phone ring until his contact disappeared, and then voicemail notification popped up. You knew you couldn’t do this to yourself, you shouldn’t, but you wanted to. So, you excused yourself, claiming you needed to use the bathroom, of course some of your friends suggested they came with you, not wanting you to be alone. But you assured them you’d be fine. 
“Hey, it’s me. I… Uh, it’s been a while.” His voice echoed through the speaker of your phone, making you bit your lips as you heard his voice for the first time since you two broke up. “I hope you’re doing good, I really do.” He continued, his voice shaky a bit. Before he said anything else, you heard him sip on a drink and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if you’re busy or whatnot, maybe you’re having a night with your parents or something.” He added, sipping once again on his drink, and now you could tell he was a bit tipsy by the way his words were slurred a bit. “But I was wondering if you’d wanna meet up? Talk a bit about what happened. I’ll text you my new place, come if you want.” 
And then it went silent, but he hadn’t hung-up, after about ten seconds of silence, you decided to hang up, telling yourself he was probably done and just miss clicked the red button on his phone. You stayed in the bathroom stall for a bit, wondering what you should do. You wanted nothing more than to see him, talk to him, get some closure about why he ended your relationship, but you didn’t want to get even more heartbroken than you already were. 
When you made it back to the booth, you knew what you were going to do. Was it a smart decision? No, absolutely not. But did it seem like a good one to your drunk self? Yes, absolutely.
My brain goes, “Ah”
Can’t hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)
Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)
Should probably not
I should probably, probably not
I should probably, probably not
As you announced your departure to your friends, a lot of them suggested to go with you, make sure you stay safe, but you convince them you’d be fine, only having a couple of minutes to walk and promising them you’d call them if anything happened. 
As you started your adventure towards your desired place, your brain started to come to it’s sense. This was horrible idea, but you didn’t care. You craved to hear him, see him, smell his cologne that you adored so much, you need him. So, you just ignored what your head was telling you, choosing instead to follow your heart and what it wanted. 
Seeing you tonight
It’s a bad idea right?
Seeing you tonight
It’s a bad idea right?
Seeing you tonight
It’s a bad idea right?
Seeing you tonight
Fuck it, it’s fine
As you got closer and closer, the anxiety of seeing him again started to settle in. What if he decided you took too long and left? What if he had another girl over and asked you to come just to rub it in your face? No, he wouldn’t that. Trevor could be an asshole on the ice sometimes, and to other guys in the bar if he saw them let their eyes linger on your body a little too long for his liking, but he wouldn’t do anything like that.
 That’d be such a dick move from him, plus, you were still in contact with Jamie, and from what you understood through the boy’s weird texts, Trevor hadn’t seen any other girl yet. So, truly, what was the worst that could happen, right?
Yes, I know that he’s my ex
But can’t two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
The biggest lie I ever said
Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex
But can’t two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
I just tripped and fell into his bed
Deciding that at least informing your parents of where you were going, or more like who you were going to see was the least you could do. That way if your friends went over to check on you, they’d call your parents to see if you had gone to their house, they’d know of the horrible decision you had made the previous night. 
Your mother wasn’t too fond of your idea, but she had met Trevor, he was a sweetheart, he knew you weren’t in any danger. If anything, she was over the moon that you had decided to finally go see the boy and talk about what had happened. 
Trevor had met your parents countless of times during your relationship, your dad being a big hockey fan, even though his favorite team was the Kings and not the Ducks. Every time you’d mention coming to visit them for the day, Trevor coming along with you, they’d almost jump from excitement, happy that their daughter had finally found a good boy for herself. They were a little cautious of him at first, doing their researches online before meeting him and seeing not so good things about him and his reputation of being a playboy, but all that worry quickly washed away when they caught the two of you sitting on the front porch watching the sunset. The window in the living room giving them a perfect view of the two of you, wide smiles on your faces as they saw Trevor looking at their daughter the way your father looked at your mother, pure love in their eyes.
No, your mother was more scared of you walking the streets of Anaheim all alone in the dark, and you understood her. The world wasn’t a safe place, neither during dark or light, especially for young woman your age. The fact that you were drunk didn’t help either, so you decided to stay on the phone with her until you made it safely to Trevor’s place.
Now I’m gettin’ in the car, wreckin’ all my plans
I know I should stop, but I can’t
And I told my friend I was asleep
But I never said where (in his sheets)
And I pull up to your place on the second floor
And you’re standing, smiling at the door
And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter men
But I really can’t remember when
Your hand were shaking slightly as you knocked on his door, making sure not to make too much noise to wake up his neighbors, but enough so he could hear you. You heard movement behind the door, along with the sound of the TV getting paused. 
Then, the next thing you knew, Trevor was standing in front of you, a beer bottle in hand. A wide grin appeared on his face as your eyes meet for the first time in months. He had gotten a haircut, thankfully, the last time you saw him, his hair kept covering his eyes and he was always complaining about it, but refused to get it cut anywhere other than his hairdresser back home. 
Suddenly, all the emotions you had been holding for the past couple of months rose within you. All the anger, hurt and love you felt towards him were all present inside you, making you extremely confused as to how you felt. 
“You came.” He stated, his eyes growing wide as he realized what was going on, you were here. 
“I did.” You confirmed, more to yourself than to him. Suddenly, you regretted coming here, but at the same time, you were so grateful to see him. Almost as if seeing him just confirmed that you’re relationship truly happened, that it was real and wasn’t just something you made up in your sleep, that he was real.
“Come in.” He said, opening up his door completely for you to walk in. There was still a couple of boxes in the corner of his living room, and there was barely any furniture, meaning he hadn’t been back for a while. 
As the two of you walked into his living room, it was the first time you truly saw him. The lights in the hallway were dimed down considering the time, and all the lights in his kitchen and entry way were turned off. His skin was tanned, his muscles were more defined than they were back in spring, but one of the first thing you had noticed was his arm, more specifically his left one. It was now home to not one, but two tattoos. 
You knew he was planning on getting some soon, it was something he talked about a lot during your relationship, but he never figured out what to get. 
“A spider? Seriously?” You laughed as the two of you sat down on his couch. He gave you a weird look before realizing you were looking at his tattoos. 
“Spiderman.” He answered with shrug, making you roll your eyes with a smile before letting your eyes drift over to the TV. Your heart dropped slightly as you realized what he was watching, Shameless, your favourite show. He had never watched it before the two of you started dating, and you quickly made sure to make him watch all the episodes, gasping when he informed you he’d never seen it before. You were about to mention it to him, but the screen went black before any words could leave your mouth. 
“So, how you been?” He asked, his words a little slurred. You looked over at him, only to see he was already looking at you with a way too familiar look. A look he always had on his face when he’d be talking to you, or at any moment really, one that was reserved just for you and no one else. Only making you wonder even more why he had ended things between the two of you. 
My brain goes, “Ah”
Can’t hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)
Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)
Should probably not
I should probably, probably not
I should probably, probably not
“Seriously? You break up with me for no reason, then five months later you call me, drunk, asking me to come over to talk, and all you have you say is ‘how you been’?” You asked, the anger in you taking control. Trevor looked down at his lap at your words. He knew calling you was a bad idea, he didn’t even know why he decided to do it in the first place. Sure, he had been thinking about it ever since he walked out the door in April, apologize to you a million times and do anything you’d want him to if he meant he could be yours again, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t break your heart even more than he already did. 
“Listen, Bug, what I did, what I said, it was the worst mistake of my life.” He started, the nickname he had given slipping past his lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened and I was so stupid to end it. And, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and during our relationship, but being your boyfriend was never one. I am so in love with you―”
“Then why’d you end it, Trevor?” You cut him off, your voice stern as you avoided his gaze, scared that tears would start to form in your eyes if you looked over at him. 
“Because you deserve better than me. You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met, and I know that you don’t think you are, but to me you are. You’re kind to everyone, you’re smart, you care about everyone even if they’ve done bad things, you’re perfect. And I am… am just me. I fuck up everything good that happens in my life, I hurt people without even realizing it, I am not a good person, Y/N/N. You deserve better than me.” He confessed, his voice low, almost scared that you’d hear him. After he was done, he chugged the rest of his beer before adding one more thing. “I am not good enough for you.” 
“Says who?” 
“Everyone. Every time you’d meet someone I know, they’d always say they didn’t understand what someone like you saw in me, like I wasn’t good enough to be your boyfriend. All my family and friends, they all love you, but they don’t understand why you’re with me, and honestly, I don’t either.” He admitted, the tone and volume in his voice not changing. You knew Trevor was a bit insecure about himself, scared that he was too high energized that people wouldn’t want to be around him, but you never knew it was this deep. 
“Why didn’t you just tell me, Trev?” You asked him, your voice shaky a bit. You start to wonder how long he had been feeling this way, suddenly feeling guilty for not noticing it. The boy next to you scoffed a bit before answering as he opened another beer. 
“I didn’t want to burden you with my stupid problems.” 
“Trevor… you could never burden me. I care about you, so much―”
“You care about everyone.”
“Yeah, maybe I do, but I don’t care about them the way I care about you, Trevor. You’ve made me feel the best I ever have in years, you’ve helped me over come so many challenges in the last year, you’ve been there for me through everything. The way I care about you, Trev, I can’t even explain it. And I am so, so sorry I didn’t realized that something was wrong and hearing you talk about it makes me feel guilty that when you needed someone to help you, I wasn’t there.” 
“You couldn’t of had known―”
“But I should’ve. I should’ve realized, Trev, and I am sorry I didn’t. You were there for me every time I was hurting, and when you were, I wasn’t.” 
Seeing you tonight
It’s a bad idea right?
Seeing you tonight
It’s a bad idea right?
Seeing you tonight
It’s a bad idea right?
Seeing you tonight
Fuck it, it’s fine
Then, the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, one of his hand cupping your cheek as your eyes grew wide. After a couple of seconds, the boy pulled back, his eyes focused on yours, and you waisted no time pulling him back in for another one. 
Minutes later, your tongue met his in the middle, a small gasp leaving his mouth as you bit down on his lip. His other hand was now resting on your waist, holding you close, as one of your hand was holding onto the collar of his shirt tightly while the other was holding onto his neck. Then, both of his hands started making their way down to your thighs, softly rubbing them before picking you up and placing you on his lap, your lips never leaving each other’s. 
Soon, his hands made their way back up your body, slipping under the shirt you were wearing, pulling you closer to him. Your mouths separated for split second and you took the opportunity to lift his shirt over his head, wasting no time to attack his necks with small kisses and love bites. 
Groans slipped past Trevor’s mouth every time you bit down on the skin under his ear, and even more when you started moving your core over his. Your shit was next, joining his on the floor behind the couch, and this time he was the one to attack your chest. Your hips accelerating every time his mouth got closer and closer to your breasts and soon your bra joined the small pile of clothes. 
“Trev!” You moaned as his lips attached around one of your nipples, pulling the hairs on the back of his neck as he did so, a loud groan echoing through his living room. Eventually, his lips left your body, your foreheads now leaning against the other’s, mouths inches apart, as you both grinded on each other, moans leaving both of your mouths. Then, you uttered the three words he had been dying to hear in since April. 
“I need you.”
Yes, I know that he’s my ex
But can’t two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
The biggest lie I ever said
Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex
But can’t two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
I just tripped and fell into his bed
A grunt left your mouth as your back hit his mattress, his body soon leaning over yours as your lips attached, his hips meeting yours as you whined. You wanted nothing more in that moment than for his pants and underwear to disappear, as well as yours. 
“So inpatient.” He mumbled as your lips parted, a smirk plastered on his face. 
“Trev.” You whined, your hips leaving the comfort of the mattress to meet his, his smirk only growing even more. The forward waisted no time baring the both of your of your bottoms, creating a new pile of clothes, now in his bedroom instead of the living room. 
As the morning hours rolled in, the two of you gave your everything to the other, your bodies, your wants, your heart. It was like you were back to last year, one of the happiest times of your life, spending each second that you could with the love of your life. 
It was like April never happened, you had been stuck in time in March, the familiar sent of his cologne filling your nose as you feel asleep in his arms, your head tucked into his chest as his arms wrapped around your figure protectively, scared that you’d disappear and he’d lose all over again. In that moment, you felt true happiness in months, all the heartbreak and tears the boy had caused being forgotten by your undying love for him. 
He was yours again, well at least for the night, but you didn’t want it to be just for tonight. You wanted him to be yours forever and always, you didn’t want to go back to how you were mere hours before, heartbroken and hung-up on the boy of your dreams. You had him right there, in your arms, and you weren’t ready to let go, not again. You lost him once, and you weren’t about to lose him twice. 
At that moment, you decided that whatever happened when the two of you woke up, no matter how hard Trevor tried, or didn’t, to tell you to just forget it even happened, that it’d be best if the two of you didn’t see each other again, you weren’t gonna let him slip out of your grip without a fight like last time. You didn’t care if it took him days, or weeks to understand that there’s not other man you’d rather be with, having already decided that if you couldn’t have him, you were the spend the rest of your life alone. But, you needed him to understand that he was perfect for you, and that he was all you ever wanted. 
Maybe he’ll never be yours again, but you’ll always be his.
Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex
Can’t two people reconnect? 
My brain goes, “Ah”
Can’t hear my thoughts
“Morning!” The Zegras boy exclaimed as you walked into his living room the next morning, well almost afternoon. All he was wearing was a plain pair of grey sweatpants, his boxer peaking over his waistband slightly. You had allowed yourself to dig through his closet, finding the pair of sweatpants and hoodie that were yours for most of the relationship before leaving his bedroom. 
“Hi.” You whispered as you sat down on his couch. The boy sent you a small smile before throwing one of his arm on the back of the couch, something he always did. 
“I just ordered breakfast, got you the same always.” 
“Thank you.” You responded, and then a silence settled between the two of you as a news channel played on the TV. “How’s your head?” 
“Huh?” 
“You… you looked like you drank a lot last night.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes focused on the TV as you felt his looking at you. 
“‘M fine. Had a little headache when I woke up, but I took an advil.” He answered, his eyes still looking at you as you nodded. “This is the part where you tell me we need to talk, isn’t it?” He added after a couple of seconds, another nod coming from you. He had a feeling about what you were about to say, and it wasn’t something he wanted to hear. 
He had spent the whole morning prepping himself mentally to not break down if the words “mistake” and “forgot” left your mouth, telling himself he couldn’t just believe you’d come back after how he ended things previously. One of his solutions was avoiding eye contact, so he looked at the same place as you did, straight ahead. 
“I get, I get that opening up and talking about things like insecurities is hard, Trev. It’s scary, you think people will judge you or making fun of you, of use it against you, trust me I know how it feels, but when you’re in a relationship with someone, that’s the kind of you stuff you can’t just hid from them. Especially if it makes you want to break up with them. That’s what I am here for, I am a safe space, Trev, nothing you tell me about how you feel or how you think will ever make me see you differently. 
I love everything about you, Trevor, every little flaws about you just make me love you even more than I already do. To me, you’re perfect, Trevor. Everything about you is perfect to me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, you’re the one for me, I know you are. And I get that hearing people say that you’re not good enough for me can be hard, but trust me when I saw, you’re perfect for me.” You stated. 
His heart dropped as your words filled his ears, in a good way of course. You remembered, even though you were drunk, you still remembered his confession from the previous night. Just as he was about to say something, the doorbell rang and he quick to push himself off the couch, but before he could take a step, your hand gripped his. His head turned to look at you, only when his gaze met yours, tears were pooling in your eyes. 
“Don’t runaway again, Trev, please.” You begged, your voice shaky and broken. You knew him, if he walked away right now, your conversation would never continue, he’d come back in the living room and pretend that it never happened, he’d runaway from it instead of facing it, just like he did last time. He hesitated for a bit, your eyes staying locked together, before he nodded slightly and sat back down. 
“It hurts. When people say all those things about me not being good enough for you, or that you could do so much better than me. I hate it.” He admitted, his eyes looking down at the floor, your hand still gripping his as you moved closer. 
“Trev, look at me.” You said, and when his head didn’t move, you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were watering as he blinked repeatedly, trying to hold his tears in. “I don’t care what people say about us, you’re way more than enough for me, and yeah, maybe I could do better, but I don’t want better, I want you.” 
“Maybe you could do better?” He questioned, a little confused as to why you would chose to say that to him. 
“Someone that doesn’t have only three functioning brain cells.” You joked, making the boy laugh a little. 
“You love it.” 
“I do. I really do, Trevor. Everything about, all your flaws and everything, I love.” You spoke, your voice soft and low. Your hand that previously grabbed his chin now cupping his cheek, a soft smile appearing on his face. 
“I am sorry.” He said as a tear fell from his eyes, which you were quick to wipe away before wrapping both your arms around his neck, his going around your waist as you held each other close. 
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love.” You whispered in his ear, only making his smile grow wider. In that moment, he realized that no matter issue he was dealing with, either from hockey or his personal life, you’d always be there for him, just like he always wanted to be there for you. 
“Girlfriend?” He asked, making you pull your head away from his neck, but keeping your arms around him. 
“Boyfriend.” You confirmed with a wide smile on your face, an identical ones plastered on Trevor’s face before the two of you leaned in and your lips locked together. Unlike all your kissed from the previous night, this one was slow and full of love. It wasn’t a quick, rushed and hungry one, no, it was one that only true lovers shared. 
Thoughts
Blah
Thoughts
Blah 
To say your mom was excited when you told her the news that you and Trevor were back together would be an understatement. A loud squeal came from the speaker of your phone, making you pull your phone away from your ear quickly as Trevor sent you a weird look. Before you even had time to say anything else to her, she hung out, claiming she had to go tell the good news to your father. 
As for your friends, they were a little iffy about the situation, scared that the boy would break your heart once again, but eventually, they came around, realizing how in love the two of you were. 
Trevor no longer ran away from his insecurities, now confronting them and talking about them with you, something you were extremely grateful for. All of his friends were over the moon when they heard that you were back together, tired of always hearing the Zegras boy mop over you. 
As for you, you were the happiest you had ever been, everyday Trevor made sure to tell and show how much he loves and appreciates you, spoiling you with hugs and kisses.
 Your life was perfect again.
457 notes · View notes
marknee · 1 year
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bts fanfics i think shakespeare would plagiarise the absolute shit out of.
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chapter iii. ✷ chapter v.
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KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:
( ✮ ) — the bastard needs to find better hiding places to ‘secretly’ plagiarise. the tavern, really?
( ♬ ) — notes were found in the trunk by the foot of his bed. not the sharpest quill in the pot, i’ll say. 
( ✎ ) — word on the street is he’s been arranging a performance at the globe theatre next week.
( ♛ ) — why is this play being taught as part of the british exam curriculum? he didn’t even write it!
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THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.
WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.
NOTE: dear readers, welcome to phase two. did you miss me? it’s been a long time coming, i assure you, so i’m glad to finally get the ball rolling on the next few chapters of incredible stories. my quill has been neatly sharpened, so are you ready?
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( ♬ ) KEYNOTE — by @missgeniality
!! hoseok x reader | 18.5k !!
strangers to lovers, non-idol!au, smut, slight fluff.
dear reader, after some time away having finished phase one of this series, i happened to unwillingly stumble across some newfound knowledge of shakespeare, which enlightened all that i knew of. unbeknownst to me, shakespeare did write about sexual endeavours within his plays. exhibit a: “but i might see cupid’s fiery shaft, quenched in the chaste beams of the watery moon.” a midsummer night’s dream, act iii, scene i.
but, did shakespeare write: “a gruelling war between your self-respect and lascivious yearning, a war waged for way too long - the fact that you're even thinking about it, your self-respect has to give in to your desires.” indeed not.
effectively, this story doesn’t grant you time to settle in. if anything, you have all but one option when diving in to the sharks: to surrender, allowing yourself to be thrown into the deep end - to a dark predator, who from that moment, sits at the table he’s created within your mind, body and soul, and feasts on every last ounce of sanity you thought existed.
truthfully, what could say it better than: “metal could melt under his scrutiny — you’re nothing but a mere mortal.”
( ♛ ) ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR — by @faryn_rose (ao3)
!! seokjin x reader, jungkook x reader | 48.4k !!
historical!au, violence, drama & romance.
“no, you decided. monsters did not spare people's feelings.”
there are those who fall under the supposition of being an iron fist in a velvet glove, and there are those who persist it. if anything, i argue a third exist: those who prove themselves neither.
throughout this story, it appeared two emotions were consistent in their approach of lurking within its entirety - heartbreak and betrayal. after all, people find themselves doing wild things in the name of love. in the battle between two men, both equal in their share of time on the battlefield, to win the precious heart of the reader, it provokes the question: who do you choose? the proud general willing to die for you, or the gentle chief who vows to keep you safe? certainly a tough choice.
the title is seemingly a perfect choice for this exhilarating fifty-thousand-word story. for the loser is left wondering whether the fight was worth the struggle.
not mentioning the loss of pride knowing their attempts were, in fact, faulty.
but, as said, all’s fair in love and war.
“he treated me like i mattered, like i had power in this world. and i decided that i couldn’t let someone like that go.”
( ✎ ) 1999 — by @tattookoo
!! campus royalty!jungkook x reader | 17.9k !!
90s!au, college au, hockey!au, fake dating, smut.
“kook, it’s really not hard to pretend to be into you. you’re very easy to love.”
with an unruly raven-haired rake with devastating dimples as the love interest, i am fully subscribed to the belief this utterance lies true. if anything, you’d be a fool to not swoon over this dashing playboy of the 90s.
this story hones into the idea of fake dating for the sake of rebuilding a reputation. but, as it seems, nobody’s fate truly rests in their own hands.
as we know - or will come to in time - a real relationship requires more of something that a fake perhaps less so: vulnerability. true, it carries the burden, yet it leaves space for commitment to linger, though as a visitor, and not as a resident. it seems commitment is what transforms a promise into reality.
the author does an incredible job of bringing every aspect of being exposed to the susceptibility of love, and that is what earned itself a place in my series.
yet, why is it we continue to delve into stories like these? well, for the greatest adventure we humans can ever go on: to run the risk of rejection, and to be completely okay with it.
( ♛ ) HOOKED — by @joopiterjoon (ao3)
!! namjoon x reader | 102k !!
friends with benefits, smut, angst, 18+.
typically, when tornado warnings siren, it’s our cue to turn tail and flee. so when tornado warnings siren within people, why is it we do not take initiative until the damage is done? even worse, what if they siren within ourselves? as we know, we cannot run from ourselves.
“i need to work on me with me." while this quote may appear ordinary, i fear its the most impactful, and arguably the most important, piece of dialogue in this story - the understanding that the only person who is going to fix you, is yourself. a tough pill to swallow - especially if you were shattered against your will - but one we must digest eventually.
shakespeare wouldn’t have a clue, regarding all his characters are broken beyond belief - and that, in most cases, ends up being their demise.
alternately, this story leaves you with two ending options. i shan’t tell you which is best, dear reader, as that choice belongs to you. but, a simple thing i like to remember:
“love is loss.”
( ♛ ) HEARTBURN — by @jiminrings
!! jimin x reader | 41.7k !!
heavy angst, emotional infidelity, more angst.
“the ones we love have the power to inflict the greatest scars, for what thing is more fragile than the human heart.” i can’t remember for the life of me who said this, but dear lord, does it just hit the mark for this story.
to cheat is to lack integrity. which jimin palpably inherits. but, it seems in order to acquire agency, sometimes bad things have to be someone’s fault.
throughout this tripartite story, you witness the growth of each individual character - and perhaps the loss of parts, too. each has their depths, their faults, their beauty. nobody is left dry, and it truly brings the story together in a way that connects so well.
“guard your heart, y/n. let it be yours before you share it again.” i ask you, author, what provoked you to write such heart-rending words? and i ask you, dear readers, to bathe in the words i say next: your heart is yours before it is anybody else’s.
this story is not just about the destruction of a great trust, but about a birth of trust within yourself and what it means to wholeheartedly put yourself first - especially in desperate times when nobody else will do it for you.
( ♬ ) TOLERATE IT — by @archivedkookie (ongoing)
!! taehyung x reader | 6k !!
heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, smut.
“the worst way to love somebody’s to watch them love somebody else and it work out.” body better, maisie peters.
unrequited love is a killer. a crushing, sinking pain when your heart reaches the depths of your stomach, and it’s more common experience than one might think - especially between you and i.
whilst this story is still ongoing, i know i’m about to be completely swept off my feet. especially with leading quotes such as: “because before all this happened, you were his friend.”
this story feels familiar - the words familiar too. simply because i assure we’ve all been the the exact boat - the one floating upon stormy seas of rejection. we understand the readers pain, we sympathise with it, and we connect to it.
“not your love to be tolerated when you know you should be celebrated.”
we’re fools of love, that’s all we are. there’s no magic or defiance behind it.
and in the words of the perks of being a wallflower: “we accept the love we think we deserve.”
( ✎ ) LEVEL OF RESTRAINT — by @lemonjoonah
!! jimin x namjoon x reader x taehyung | 13k !!
office!au, bdsm!au, 18+, thriller, smut.
“any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” why don’t you shut the fuck up?
now, tell me, at what point does one cross the thin line between obsession and possession? what are the defining factors, and when down that very same faded line, does one reach a great epiphany they’ve reached a place of no return? does ‘love’ not beg for sacrifice? does it?
setting the scene, with characters like these, it’s hard to not risk the fall of betrayal from the thrust of arguably non-consensual sexual situations, but i’ll let you be the judge of that. effectively, this story is one you have to experience for yourself, dear reader, in order to understand. there is only so much i can tell you- reveal, express, without running my mouth and ruining the whole plot line.
though, i shall leave you with one piece of advice. a thought for you to ponder on: pay attention.
and talk about jimin and namjoon being sex on legs all you want, but there is no denial this story has a deeper, more sinister verona.
lady macbeth said it herself: “look like th' innocent flower, / but be the serpent under't.”
( ♬ ) WANT A TASTE? — by @suga-kookiemonster
!! yoongi x reader | 18.3k !!
friends to lovers, humour, shopping mall!au, smut.
"who are you, yoongi? what is your truth?” if there is something i can respect, should it be this line.
i believe there is a rich beauty in the small, gentle exchanges between strangers, to which ripen, transforming into the most special of connections between friends - and before long, between lovers. it’s a slow and steady process i’m sure, but i find those types of love are the most worthwhile. 
patience is, of course, dear reader, a virtue.
in my humble opinion, this story does nothing but breathe fun from its very core, encapsulating the sweet essence of excitement - of belonging - and burrowing itself around you like a warm blanket. that’s the sheer power of a writer - to familiarise the strange and mystify the familiar.
tell, aren’t you intrigued?
“all the time you've spent with him has already alerted you to the fact that his hard persona is all a front.”
took you long enough.
( ♛ ) THE WEDDING ARRANGEMENT — by @sugaurora (ao3)
!! namjoon x black!reader | 44.2k !!
enemies with benefits to lovers, smut, romance.
“and maybe that's because it wasn't the kind of love you always expected, but something different that you hadn't fully let yourself accept.” if this were any other topic of matter, i would let wit take its course. however, as it is not, i am inept from doing so - rather i shall let your own imagination prove itself dominant, dear reader.
effectively, if there is anything this story has mastered, it’s the realisation that assumptions can erode any relationship, and inevitably are a fate we, the human race, continue to face and to fight.
“strangely, the first thing you thought of was home.” while i presume i join the line of overdue attendants to stumble across this indescribable romance, to say its definitely left its mark - perchance, more.
if you seek a delicious story to sink your teeth into, let this take the cake. besides, the story isn’t the only appetising option on the menu.
“you're a walking erotic novel cover, namjoon.”
( ✮ ) FINAL SLEIGH — by @floralseokjin
!! seokjin x reader | 23.3k !!
office!au, rivals/enemies to lovers, smut.
in order to reach the beautiful rose nestled within its bush, you must first combat the prickly thorns to which ensure its survival by the name of protection. mind you, shakespeare never said that - i did. my quill is just as sharp it’s practically lethal.
the art of protection within humans, i say, is much different. it jumps out in strange forms, but each is just as valid as the other. which is what indefinitely makes this trope all the more interesting - especially in this story.
“feelings was a scary word, an uncertain word, but you thought you liked the way it made you feel.” arguably, if a pair are able to surmount this indescribable nine letter word, possibly even sit with the idea, then perhaps their journey marks itself a success. and that to me, is worth fighting for.
this story is a perfect mix between comedy and actuality, plenishing us of pure enjoyment while hooking us round the legs in the name of desire disguised. a perfect mask, indeed.
we’re all playing with fire. but if you don’t take that foolish risk, how’d you know you’d burn?
( ✮ ) SIT. STAY. — by @daechwitatamic
!! seokjin x reader | 14k !!
neighbours!au, dog parent!au, smut.
“if you love somebody, let them go.” not to delve too deep into things, but baring in mind society’s self-destructive addiction to faster living, it poses the question whether “stay” within this context carries a much heavier weight than intended. asking someone to stick by you in a world which thrives on the act of haste, is a form of intimacy one may not throughly tread.
but understand this, dear readers, i do not miss anything.
the affinity within this story is one to point out. it’s so raw and genuine that it feels uncomfortably natural - to the point that freshly reading this felt like returning to an old friend your soul grew attached to in a past life, glad - and almost grateful - to encounter them once more.
“would you be better off telling him later, when things are settled, when you can tie up the story nice and neat?” oh, how you wound me. just so, the new in a relationship is a hard course to navigate, especially when it comes to our deepest shadows - perhaps it would be easier to stick a decorative bow over the cracks.
but then again, how else would light get in?
( ♛ ) BLOOM — by @hobidreams
!! florist!namjoon x assassin!reader | 20.7k !!
smut, action, angst, opposites attract.
in the nature of life, it is normal for us to resist death. but in the nature of the world, in the end, death overwhelms life. but ‘tis not death itself we find ourselves afraid of, rather the possibility of it. “like how a child fears what might lay beyond a closet door, beneath a four-frame bed.”
even i fed the dark, hungry demon of that spiralling thought once.
within this captivating story, the two main characters of life and death coexist beside each other. neither try to dominate and drain the power of the other. they simply rest, side by side, together. while joon grows life through his plants, the reader strips that of what is so. to each to their own. the birth, and the destruction.
but, dear reader, does life beg the existence of death? or simply, is it the other way around? can death suffice without existence? “you can't seem to sleep… without the comfort that there's something growing, thriving in life just a few feet away.” …perhaps.
despite the pair being so different from one another, neither allow that defining characteristic the chance to ruin their dangerous, but very real connection. well… until the last petal falls.
but i shall let you discover that for yourself.
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TAGLIST: @screamertannie @bebejungkook @taleasnewastime​
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© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.
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spectersgirl · 5 months
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Hi!! If u still do request i have one. Can u do one where harvey x reader has a stubborn son (like a mini teenage version of him)? love your fics btw!!
This is part two!! Part one is here!
Mini Harvey (p2)
---
You were reading peacefully when you noticed the voices of your son and husband raising louder and louder. The tension crackled between Harvey and your teenage son. Oliver, much like his father, was headstrong and determined, especially when it came to his desire to pursue a career in law.
This time, the argument centered on Oliver's college decision. He was adamant about attending Stanford all the way in California, but Harvey, ever the protective father, had different ideas. If Oliver was going into law, the only option in Harvey's mind was Harvard, his own alma mater.
A few more minutes of yelling passed, followed by the slamming of a bedroom door, and then it was silent. You decided it was best not to get in the middle of their argument this time, knowing that at least one of them would be coming to you for a venting session anyway.
As if on cue a gentle knock interrupted the quiet, and there stood Harvey, looking an odd mixture of pissed off and nervous. "I need your advice," he admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his voice. "Oliver and I... I just don't know how to get through to him."
You beckoned him to sit beside you, offering a soft smile. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?" you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
Harvey managed a small smile. "He's got my stubbornness, that's for sure."
You giggled and placed a hand on his back, rubbing it softly causing him to relax into your touch just a bit.
"He's just so insistent," Harvey confessed. "I want the best for him, but I'm afraid I'm just pushing him away. I just wish I knew how to make him see my reasoning."
You paused before responding, meeting Harvey's gaze. "Harvey, sometimes it's not about making him see your reasons. It's about understanding his. Have you even asked him why he wants to go to Stanford over Harvard? Ask him about his choices instead of getting him to come to your side. He needs to feel heard and supported."
Harvey nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. I've been too focused on what I think is best for him without even thinking about his perspective. Thanks, baby."
He gave you a quick kiss to the temple before standing and leaving the room. As Harvey left, you prepared yourself for the conversation with Oliver, which was sure to come any minute. Soon enough, another knock sounded through the room.
"Mom," Oliver began, "Dad just doesn't get it. He won't even listen to why I don't want to go to Harvard, he just always thinks he's right and knows what's best”
Inviting him to sit down, you spoke gently. "Dad just cares about you, Oliver. But maybe he's not expressing it in the best way. Have you tried seeing things from his perspective? He might have valid reasons, but he needs to listen to you too."
Oliver's frustrated demeanor softened as he mulled over your words. "I guess I haven’t. Thanks mom, I’ll go talk to him."
Later that evening, when you were getting ready for bed, Harvey entered and closed the bedroom door behind him.
“Hey, did you talk to him?” You asked.
“I did. We both apologized and I heard him out, then I explained that no matter where he decides, I’ll always be proud of him.”
“I’m proud of you, I know it was always your dream for him to go to Harvard but it makes me so proud to see you let that go and let Oliver choose his own dream.”
Harvey smiled, with a touch of sadness behind his eyes. He walked over to you, wrapping you in his arms.
“When did our little guy get big enough to argue with me about colleges?” Harvey murmured into your hair.
“Don’t get all sentimental now, we are not having another”
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Text
she is midnight rain | n. romanoff
about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist
pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader
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chapter one | chapter two: she doesn't think of me
chapter summary: you just learned that your soon-to-be professor is straight up terrible. and in an attempt to drop out of her class, you instead became the target of her humiliation. you just knew you will hate her as she will you.
warnings: evident mommy issues (not really into depth)
a/n: im very excited to write this series (that's a lie, i'm only excited about the smutty parts, the beginning, not so much). will be trying to post an update every other day ꒰ ⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷⸝⸝꒱
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for all your years in high school, and the very few months you had before college, you didn't have a plan. you didn't know where you wanted to go. you didn't know what you wanted to take. there were too many choices. or maybe there's barely any. you just couldn't choose for yourself, you couldn't decide.
when you don't have a mother or in your case, when you have a mother who chose her boyfriend over you, you don't really have anyone telling you what to do, where to go. and maybe some people would love the same freedom that you had, but with that freedom was misguidance. you had nobody to help you choose, nobody to guide you, to teach you, to tell you what's best for you. you have to decide all that.
but when nobody told you what was best, what was the standard for best, how could you possibly have known. how could a child understand what was best for her when she was taught nothing about the sort.
you didn't know what you wanted, and your best judgement told you to trust in your friend and follow billy maximoff. he was your bestfriend. your other half. the only person you can confide in. you knew that you had to study where he would. you couldn't possibly survive on your own. you needed him to guide you. to tell you what to do. to protect you.
"you're in mrs. romanoff's class."
you were snapped out of your thoughts. you've been staring at the field the entire time. at the massive open field between the campus and the gate. you didn't know how long you've been here, for a moment, you didn't even remember billy being in front of you holding your class schedule.
"y/n, yoo-hoo. are you okay?" billy waved a hand in front of you. "what are you thinking?"
you sighed, "i can't believe i'm in college now and i still don't know what to do." you said, looking over billy's shoulder and getting once again lost in your own head. "how am i going to survive..."
"well, i'll survive." he said proudly, earning back your attention. you almost scowled at him for being a show-off. but he smiled at you. a soft reassuring smile. "i'll survive for the both of us." he said.
your heart fluttered a little. you didn't have a mom. or a dad. or siblings. but you had a family. you had billy.
"i know what i'm going to be. i have a plan. and while you don't have any for yourself, i'll carry you." he says.
you looked at your watch. freshman orientation is in a few, and seeing your attention on the clock sent billy the hint that you both should get going. nevertheless, your conversation didn't end as you both walked into the campus.
"how will you carry me?" you mused, not returning the same sentiment he sent you as you simply humored his words.
he held the straps of his bagpack. "mmmm..." he started thinking, "i'll get a job as soon as we graduate. you can stay with me and my parents until i get my own place which i'd be glad to share with you." he says. "that way, you can finally move out from your mum's house."
"that's... very free-loader of me." you chuckled, visualizing the life you'd share with your friend.
"well, you're my free-loader." he looks at you all giddy. "that's what friends do, right?"
you sighed, "yeah."
billy never had a good relationship with his twin brother, tommy. tommy decided to stay with his father after their parents got a divorce. billy on the other hand, stayed with his mother as she remarried.
you've never met mrs. maximoff's new husband. in fact, it's been a really long time since you'd seen billy's mom. the last time you saw her, she had some sort of a 50s haircut. from what your bestfriend tells you, she went through quite a few hair phases from a shoulder length side part to a long-haired rebonded look. at some point, you know she went crazy and got a full head of tight blonde curls. that was her, "going through a hard time with my husband so i must do something so incredibly different with my hair" hair. she went back to the normal big curls, fluffy airburn hair after she remarried though.
that's how close you were with billy. you were his sister, almost. you knew everything about him. even about his mother's haircuts half of which you're sad you weren't around to see.
"mr. stark's coming by for the orientation, did you know that?"
you looked at billy. "the rich guy who owns stark industries?"
"yeah. he's a friend of my moms and dad's."
"no way?!" you all but gasped. you did coo in shock a bit, looking at him with widened eyes. "damn, it must be nice to be connected to him." you say, your mind going on to imagine what your life would be if you were as rich as him. or even connected to him. then you wouldn't have to think about all the important decisions you need to make.
"he's connected to a lot of the professors here." billy mentions. "mr. rogers, mr. banner, mr. barton. but he's closest to mrs. romanoff. they're best friends." he looks at his watch. "i think he's here for the engineering department though. he's funding them lots."
"mrs. romanoff?" you ask, complete disregarding his following statement.
"he's the reason why mrs. romanoff met my parents." he says.
"i'm in her class right?"
you haven't taken a look at your timetable yet because billy has held onto it since it was given to you. eyeing all the names of your professors and giving you some kind of commentary about them. he knows a lot about them. mrs. maximoff used to be a professor here, and for the entirety of high school, billy frequented this very campus.
"yeah." he scoffed. "good luck."
"why? is she mean?"
"terribly." he says. "she's nice, but as your professor? she'll eat you alive."
you were in two of mrs. romanoff's classes, unfortunately for you. you had her in english literature, and business economics. and until classes had officially begun two days after your orientation, stories of how horrible she is; from how she failed more than half of the total students she's had in her lifetime, to how much she enjoys either suspending, or expelling her students over the littlest inconveniences became the center of all your conversations with billy. for someone who knows a lot about her, you wish he had gotten her instead of you. now the dreading fear of seeing her live up to your horrible expectations of her with you is just crippling.
"i'm dropping out of mrs. romanoff's classes." you blurt out during billy's long monologue of the stories he's heard about the professor.
he looked at you, "no! i didn't mean to scare you." he almost laughs. "she's actually really nice!"
you shot him a sharp glare. if he dares to defend mrs. romanoff after all the stories he's told, then he's better off shutting his mouth.
"yeah, no. too late."
there was a part of you that tugged at the idea of actually doing it. if there were something that stopped you, you would so give into it and drop it. you simply needed to know that you wanted to do—that you can do something about it so you can lie yourself into thinking that you have, this new life of yours, under control. and you were lucky enough to just serve into that purpose as you were unlucky enough to have stumbled upon a wooden door that had mrs. romanoff's name spelled out in gold letters.
natasha romanoff.
billy has been talking this entire time, explaining to you how mrs. romanoff could've been better than what he initially led you to believe. you've been taking mental notes but you haven't really been paying attention, so you only got, "she's the best professor here. constantly commended by the dean himself" and "her class is the hardest to get into. only the best of the best can get into it—"
you heard nothing further as you started fixating on how there was absolutely no way of telling if she was in as the massive window deemed useless with the blinds covering it. despite your efforts in trying to take even the smallest peak inside, no luck.
you can turn away. but you're here now. besides, not knowing whether or not she's in isn't really an inconvenience worth turning away from.
perseverance glinted your eyes. you weren't giving up. you put a hand on the handle, "y/n, no, she—", and you went in without hearing out billy, or even giving the chance for anyone to let you in.
you have to transfer out of her class before you have to go in it. as uncomfortable as this might be, it's this, or a whole year or more worth of wishing you got out when you could.
inside was a woman sitting at the desk just a few steps away from you. it was a relatively average sized room. it wasn't too small. not too cramped. but it wasn't too big either. not too empty. the walls of either sides were bookshelves. the back wall, a massive window overlooking the entire front of the school.
the woman lifted her head to see you, and immediately, you were taken aback by her... beauty. the features that are of the ordinary, but on its entirety, with all of it combined, created this image of the goddess sitting in front of you.
you melted. you pictured her to be an old woman, but now you see why everyone was so intimated by her. her simple gaze, and unmoving disinterest of your presence made you feel so small. to have such a gorgeous woman look at you like you didn't matter, exactly the way that she did you, is so intimidating. so belittling. yet, you were enamored. you were captured by her. she was just simply mesmerizing. satisfying.
she had red hair. massive curls that cascaded down her shoulders as if so intricately placed to look so neat and clean. she had a side part, though, it was barely noticeable as the part was a lot closer to the center than it should be for a side part. her eyes were so brightly... emerald. despite of the shadows created by the light behind her, it stayed so vibrant. like a gem. she had such a beautifully molded nose. and red lips. you wanted nothing else but to stare at her forever.
"i suggest you start saying something now, before this intrusion of yours becomes the reason why your time here ends."
her voice sent chills down your spine. you felt goosebumps. all the hair in your body rose. her voice was so terribly cold. she was composed, and calm. and had not a care in the world, especially you. the way she delivered it with such disinterest, almost in a condescending way made you feel so small. it gave you all the more reason to drop out.
she was looking up at you. her chin was resting at the back of her hand where she had a pen between her fingers.
she made your heart race in fear.
"i'm in your class." you take a deep breath. "i'd like to drop out."
you see the end of her lip twitch almost in amusement when her eyes dropped to the papers on her desk. she fixed her posture and started fixing the mess she had laid out. she did it so painfully slow as if you weren't there. but when she stood up, placing both of her hands on her desk, you knew she wasn't trying to torture you. the way the end of her lip raised into the slightest grin made you realize she was having her fun with you. like one of the students she'd amuse herself with first, embarrass, torture, belittle, before kicking out. almost like you were a toy. one of the many for her.
you gulped.
"tell me, miss y/f/n y/l/n. why do you want to drop out?" she asks, slowly going around her desk before she gestured to a chair in front of it—not to offer you a seat, but to require you to do as she wants, and sit down. "you haven't even seen me in class yet. i doubt you even had the chance to attend your very first class which you will soon miss if you continue to—waste, my, time."
you gulped again. something about the way she stares at you while she walks to the small table by the bookshelf where she had a few glasses and whiskey made your throat dry.
"i heard stories."
"i assure you, miss y/l/n," you flinched a bit when her glass hits the surface of her desk, later followed by her body dropping to her seat in the most elegant way. "whatever you heard is true."
goosebumps again. not good goosebumps. "please let me leave because i want to cry" goosebumps. her eyes were piercing through you, you can't imagine moving. to even relax your shoulder and somehow offending her with the slight movement is such horror for you.
she took a sip from her drink. before letting the glass hang barely by her fingertips as she leans closer to you, her chin resting once again on the back of her hand.
"how old are you?" she asks.
"i just turned 18." you answer quickly as if it would disappoint her if you waited a beat.
"what is something worth knowing about a y/f/n y/l/n?" you didn't notice the way your name rolled off her tongue. you didn't notice she knew your name this entire time. she said it with such grace. never had your name sounded so foreign. so new. so beautiful.
something about her was pulling you in. sucking you into her. and you weren't sure if it was the fear of getting kicked out, or just because of her sheer charms that made you blurt out every thinkable thing about you.
"i'm 18. i just turned 18." you started, taking a deep breath in and calming yourself down when you realized how quick you were talking. "i can't drive for the life of me. i hate milk. i'm plainly unhealthy. i don't drink vitamins. or eat an average amount of nutrients and meals in general. i'm nocturnal, i can't fall asleep at night. i love juice, soda, everything but water. i have a complicated relationship with my hair. i..." the realization stunned you. the realization that you were sitting in the office of who you heard was the strictest professor in this very university, telling her about the most absurd, uninteresting things about you, when you might just be on the very verge of getting kicked out of your bestfriend's dream university.
you calmed yourself down. you tried to rid yourself of the panic you resorted to burying deep deep down, you fixed your posture, cleared your throat, and in the most modulated voice that you can harness within yourself, you said, "i am ambitious, strong, independent—" that's a lie. "bright, optimistic, and persistent. and i really want to have the opportunity to begin my year in this university—" hopefully not in your class. "because i know that i have the exact amount of wit, and dedication this school is looking for in a student." i don't want to be in your class. "if given the opportunity to... in a different class wherein i can flourish."
"well," she says as if impressed. you stood up when she did, giving her a hopeful expression like that's going to boost your chances of getting out of her class without suffering the grave consequences she's known to give.
she moved around the table again, this time, moving slowly towards you. step by step. closer each passing second. and when the two of you were finally faced to face with each other without the desk between you, her small smirk dropped. "no." she says in a way that showed you how amused she was of putting your efforts of coming in here to waste without sounding anywhere besides stern.
"what?"
"i said no."
"no, what?" at this point, you were in distress. but you tried your best to hide it. you weren't very successful though. your voice raised, though you all but shouted.
her left hand rested on the surface of her desk when she leaned her hip against it, tipping her head slightly to the side, "look, miss y/l/n, i did not just waste all this time getting to know you and your... habits, just for you to drop out of my class."
her tone was unkind. she was cold, and stern. and she wanted nothing but to get her way. your attempts gave her mere amusement. she didn't acknowledge you, or your request, she just wanted to see the way your face would contort in shock when she declines you after letting you think your efforts would get you anywhere.
"but, mrs. romanoff—"
"BUT...! miss y/l/n—" she didn't shout, but the way she said it, the way her voice raised. you wanted to crawl into a cave and cry. especially with the way her eyes lingered on a little too long on yours before she looked away and returned to her seat. "i could so easily penalize you for entering my office with no permission." her tone was mad. graceful, elegant. calm and collected. but mad. "i would have you suspended if i didn't appreciate your... attempt, to even come inside my office, to speak to me and look me straight in the eye requesting me for something... you're gutsy. you could've used that in my class instead."
you weren't going to win.
today, you realized, that mrs. romanoff will always have the power. and if you can't handle that, then you're better of leaving the school.
she's dreadful. she's dark. she's the storm that angers the seas. and the rain at midnight. she is going to potentially ruin your chances of succeeding in this university—in life, and you will... hate her as you are now definitely sure she will you.
"i'll see you later."
you did see her later. a blissful 2 hours without her was replaced by dread when the moment you sat on the very back of the lecture hall, she came in. everyone stood before her, as if it were highschool, and you just went with it. just a mere clack of her high heeled shoes had everyone on their feet, their hands on their chest as if she was a goddess to be worshiped.
"good morning, everyone."
nobody spoke, it was mere silence after a beat of her greeting in which she gestured everyone to sit. you hid behind a tall man. the lecture hall was packed. although, there were a few empty seats up front.
"i'd like to begin today with..." she didn't have much with her. she only had a clipboard which she places on her desk. she took quite a while adjusting. but when she did; when she was leaning back on her seat, her legs elegantly crossed, where her hands rested on her knee, she looked straight ahead. and for a moment, you thought you can feel her eyes boring through the people you're hiding behind of and staring at you. "i have absolutely zero tolerance for any of your bullshit." all the calmness of her tone before was replaced by a sheer sharpness. "you either do as i say, exactly as i say it, or you leave this classroom. better yet, this school. are we clear?" she was stern. and you were scared. "now," she says with an exhale. "you at the back," you froze. "are we clear with that?"
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oyster-sauce-tart · 1 year
Text
SAGAU thoughts
I’ve had ENOUGH!!! of all the imposter sagau’s makinh me feel sad (as much as I love them it has completely taken over the genre and don’t like that) so taking matters into my own hands
*ahem*
So I have my own little thought about the multiverse theory in which different universes are constantly created; for every choice you choose, another universe in which you’ve made a different decision is created
Even the world of Genshin is no different.
When you, the Player, first downloaded Genshin impact the concept of a “Creator” was made. A being amongst gods who created everything, who created life to the entire world.
And technically it’s true! You are the Creator of Teyvat!
By deciding to *play* Genshin impact you created a world that is an alternative to the Teyvat you originally knew!
Heck even an another version of you exists!
In every which way this Genshin You is still you. The same appearance the same personality…
Although, this Creator you doesn’t just encapsulate how you act, but how you act and play in Genshin as well
So… if you’re one of those… bloodthirsty players that love to attack every enemy in sight…
The Original
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Disclaimers: mentions of reader’s death, brief description of gore (getting hit by a truck isn’t a very nice experience), Aether is the traveler (mentioned), 2nd person pov/GN!reader, Reader is referred to as ‘The Original’ with no other name mention, I did all this on mobile w/o any spell check, implied Reader was an academic focused college student before death
You had originally thought, that when you died everything would merely turn black. Or maybe you would reincarnate into another person, forgetting your old life and starting anew.
You’d have yet to know that’s what exactly was going to happen (more or less) but we’d still have yet to approach that part of this tale.
After that spiraling truck hit you square in the body, knocking you out cold with too many injuries and too much blood loss for your body keep you breathing, you had woken up with perfect health.
Erm… well… sorta. You weren’t bleeding out with your limbs thrown every which way, with pieces of your bones poking out of your flesh, anymore but you didn’t really feel… anything. Just floaty, and a bit tingly…?
“Well, yes, transferring your consciousness from one realm to another before it drifted away at the last second can bring out that weird feeling… you may want to ask Aether about that, they might empathize with you.”
what.
It had suddenly came to your attention that you were laying down. On someone’s lap. Who’s lap? Well you still had your eyes closed so you decided to open them and jump up to stand in order to see what in the utter hell was going on.
You jump out of whoever’s embrace you were in and opened your eyes. You saw that you seemed to be in some kind of… space…?
The best way to describe it was like being taken to space to see the stars up close except you didn’t need a space suit, you were breathing just fine! As well as the fact that the surface your feet was under rippled like water droplets yet you didn’t sink nor stumble from the weird feeling.
“An amazing realm we’re in isn’t it? I’m glad I created this and hid up here after that dastardly war…”
Ah right the mysterious voice talking to you that suspiciously sounded like yours if you took etiquette lessons.
You finally turn to look up at the voice and your eyes widened. It wasn’t just that voice that sounded like you… the person standing in front of you looked exactly like you!
Down to the skin, hair, and eye color, the height, the body tone and shape, even those little marks that only you would recognize…! It’s like looking in a mirror…! Ah well sort of…
First of, the hair color you two may share but their’s was much longer than yours. It even reached down to drag across the water-space-floor thing. And also they weren’t wearing the same clothes at you, but rather in some really pretty and delicate looking robes. Although this person had the upper half of the robe be loosely worn hanging off the shoulders showing a moderately tight turtleneck.
You couldn’t lie you wanted some of those garbs yourself, did this lookalike had a closet you could borrow maybe…
Ah wait speaking of which…
After ogling at your mirror image’s body, you immediately pointed at your doppelgänger with an accusatory tone. As if you weren’t just admiring their beautiful wardrobe and fashion choice.
“Who are you?!” you shouted at them. You tried on a loud voice to make yourself seem more threatening.
Alas, you were more of the academic type rather than the intimidating one so this person-who-looked-like-but-wasn’t-quite-you-you-think merely chuckled and looked at you with a rather admirable look.
Slowly they started to get closer to you with a chill and calm walk and once they were close enough to you they placed their hands to hold onto yours. You had noticed their hands were as just as rough as your own, although you didn’t know why this person’s were like that you can thank yourself for your own hand texture thanks to years of taking scholarly notes until your wrists cramped up during college lectures.
They stared at your hands, having had come to a similar realization and rubbed the back of your hands in a delicate manner.
They looked at you again.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you… my Original…”
WHAT.
[ Prologue, The Realm of Inbetween 1: END ]
Well ummmmmm this went a big longer than I intended,,,
Originally wanted to just spew out thoughts then I blacked out and now here’s this. I’ll actually continue this tbh this is real good and I’ve been wanting to write smth for this idea for awhile soo lol
Umm anyways cue end card-
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Ty for reading <3
As always, I am unable to respond to replies so please show your support for my writing with reblogs, asks, or even dms!
Feel free to read my Carrd here to keep track of requests or Masterlist!
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itspbandjellytime · 2 months
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The Assistant [Hailee Steinfeld x Fem!Reader] - Chapter 1
Plot: Y/N Waldorf is fresh out of college and her first job is being Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant, but what Y/N doesn't know is that Hailee is hiding a huge secret from the general public and from her, as her assistant.
Notes: This is a multi-chapter fic, you can also read this on wattpad under the same username "itspbandjellytime". This fanfic is also going to contain NSFW themes in the near future, so if you're under the age of 18 please don't read this. Thank you!
Word count: 1.5k words
[Y/N's POV]
My name is Y/N Waldorf, I am 21 years old and I live in Seattle, Washington, and I just graduated from college a few months ago. After four gruesome years of this course that I didn't like, I am finally free and I get to choose what job I'll have in the future since this is America and it's a free country after all. I got to say College was mentally challenging, but it was worth it after all and I got my degree, which I will probably never use in the future.
My parents, are real estate brokers and they were high school sweethearts. But they're not your typical high school sweethearts where one is a football player and the other is the girl next door, my parents were a bunch of nerds who fell in love and gave birth to two girls. I am the youngest and my sister Kelly, is the eldest. 
If I can talk about their reaction to me graduating college, all I can say is that they were happy that I finished college after ranting to them I want to drop out every five seconds. However they have been bugging me for months to get a job which is annoying at first but I manage to get used to them bothering me at 3 in the morning to get one which I have- well had. I told my parents I've been working at the coffee shop somewhere in our local town, but they told me to get a PROPER job, a job that can pay me well and can give me money to support myself. As if the job at the coffee shop didn't support me when I was in college which it did for some time, I quit my job at the coffee shop a few weeks ago and now I am scouring the internet for a job.
My eyes start to hurt from staring at the screen of my laptop way too long, scrolling through countless job hunting websites, my ears start to hurt as well from the headphones I am wearing and blasting out my playlists as I look for the said job. I start to slowly give up at this point and start to overthink about my life choices until I was on the verge of tears, when all of a sudden I saw something that says: "Urgent! In need of a Personal Assistant, please contact Laura McKinnon." along with her details. I was skeptical at first when I saw the advertisement, I am fully aware about the scams happening which leads to people being in very life threatening circumstances. But with a quick google search, I realized that she works as a talent manager and she's based in California, I feel like this is also a sign from God at the same time. I immediately typed down her e-mail address and sent my resume to Laura, hoping for the best and I don't get scammed.
A few days have passed, I've been checking my e-mail almost everyday to see if I get a word from Laura which I did. According to the E-mail I sent, I am scheduled to have an interview with her via. Zoom the next day. The next day arrived and I was interviewed by Laura through Zoom, once the interview concluded she told me she'll contact me again once I get the job or not. I waited and waited, day and night for a response from Laura. I was desperate to get this job that I started to go to church almost everyday, I was religious for an entire week basically.
One day, while I was in a middle of a run just to count my steps in and getting my blood pumping, my phone starts to ring. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and answered the call from an anonymous number "Hello?" I spoke, panting and catching my breath "Hello is this Y/N Waldorf?" The person asked, the sound of the person's voice sounded sweet, feminine, and had a valley girl accent. 
I furrow my brows, checking my surroundings before speaking "Yes, who is this?" I asked.
"This is Laura McKinnon, from the office of Hailee Steinfeld. I am just here to inform you that you got the job as Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant." Laura said, hold on... Did she say Hailee Steinfeld? Like... THE Hailee Steinfeld?!? I get to work as Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant?!? I tend not to freak out in the middle of the street knowing I am gonna be a part of Hailee's team. I've looked up to Hailee since I first saw The Edge of Seventeen for the first time and I never looked back since, she is also the reason why I am into women and met one of my closest friends, Jackie.
"Miss Waldorf? Are you still on the line?" Laura asks me, I snapped back to reality and stammered for a bit to find words "Uhm... Yes. Sorry, I was distracted." I responded, chuckling nervously.
"It's all good Miss Waldorf, anyways you will be starting next week. I know you are based in Washington, but if you have any associates around the Los Angeles area, you can stay with them." Laura told me, all did was respond with a nod and a smile on my face "Yes... I will do that, thank you so much." I said as Laura ended the call.
After my run, I headed straight to my apartment and called up my bestfriend Jackie, I know it's crazy that I am calling my internet friend before my parents who have been bugging me to get a proper job. I met Jackie through our shared interest and love for Hailee Steinfeld, thanks to the website "Twitter", I was blabbering about Hailee on the site as usual and then she asked if we can be mutuals on that site  and we have been inseparable ever since also Jackie lives in Los Angeles around West Hollywood so I can crash at her place. 
"Jackie!" I said with a proud tone, running around my apartment like I am a dog who just got the zoomies. 
"Y/N/N! Hey, what's up?" Jackie asks me, I settle down on the couch and clear my throat. 
"Girl guess what?" I ask her, I cant contain my excitement as a huge grin forms on my face.
"What?" She asks me back.
"I got a job!" I exclaimed, not telling her what my job is and who I work for just yet to build the suspense.
"No way, congrats girlie! What job?" Jackie asks.
I clear my throat again, a smirk forms on my face "Personal assistant." I confidently say.
"For?"
"Hailee Steinfeld." I responded, giggling like a teenage girl. I heard Jackie scream on the other line, causing me to laugh at her response "Yes, I am being serious Jackie. And I need to crash at your place." I told her.
"Oh my God sure, you are free to stay at my place... holy shit... You bagged a good job." Jackie compliments me and all I can do is laugh.
"It's insane, I know." I said, smiling "I start next week, and I gotta tell my parents about it as well." I added.
"Well you better tell them, girl." Jackie encouraged me, I can tell that she's leaning against a wall and smiling with her phone on her hand.
"Of course, I'll tell them and I will drive by there tomorrow." I said, ending my call with Jackie.
I told my parents about the job that I got, their reactions were positive and they supportive of me moving from Washington to California the next day. But my grandparents are huge conspiracy theorist believers, they start to talk about random things about the entertainment industry and my parents just shook their heads and told me to ignore them and enjoy my job. And in the words of my mother, she told me that this job is a once in a life time opportunity and I should savor every moment. Which I will, cause I have a feeling that working with your idol will be one of the best experiences I will have in my life time.
I spent the entire day packing my things for California, and It's a good thing that my sister, Kelly is down to look after and live in my apartment for the mean time. I love my sister, I would die for her. 
The next day, I finally left Washington and headed to California. I decided to take my car and drive, it feels like a road trip with yourself and it's very therapeutic. I suggest that you try it, I spent the entire road trip blasting out Taylor Swift, eating convenient store food, sleeping in my car in empty parking spots. 
The trip lasted for 17 hours, and 17 hours later I arrived in sunny Los Angeles. The last time I was in Los Angeles was when I was 15, when I first met Jackie and we saw Hailee live when she opened Charlie Puth. I took time to look around the surroundings as I drove to where Jackie lives, a smile forms on my face and it made me realize that this will be the start of a new chapter of my life and I hope this one will never end.
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meraki-yao · 5 months
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Transcription and Translation of Taylor's Little Red Book Livestream (9th December 2023, to the best of my ability)
Q: Question A: Answer
Side Banters:
H: Host T: Taylor Anything in brackets: me or additional elaboration
Q: Asking him to share his experience of city walking in Shanghai earlier today
A: They went to Yu Garden which Taylor said was incredible, and he tried 糖葫蘆 Tanghulu, a traditional Chinese sweet which is candied Chinese Hawthorn
Q: How was the past few days for him and where did he go
A: He's been in China for four nights now (He came by himself btw) First night he stayed at the J Hotel which is the third tallest building in the world and the tallest hotel in the world. After that, he went to 濮院 (the venue for the GQ event) for two nights and it was incredible
Q: How's his jetlag?
A: It's hitting right now 😂 He's been drinking a lot of tea and getting better
Q: What led him to choose to become an actor instead of a competitive swimmer
A: That was an easy choice, he swan for 10 years and then decided he didn't want to swim in college, and then decided he didn't want to be a doctor (his brother's a doctor) and maybe disappointed his parents (H: No way!) It was a hard decision but he decided to move to LA and pursue acting (H: and you made it!)
Q: How is he enjoying being an actor?
A: It's tough, ups and downs. It's kind of like swimming, it's an individual activity, but you also get to collaborate with the community, which is fun.
Q: What are his favourite three movies and why?
A: The Matrix, Fight Club and Interstellar, he likes movie with a twist
Q: What type of music does he like
A: Deep House, Tropical House, Reggaeton
And then the host taught him a couple of Chinese phrases
Q: What sparked his interest in fashion
A: His dad bought him a subscription to GQ when he was younger which started his interest in fashion, and then he started watching fashion-related movies (like Brad Pitt in Allied) which further cultivated that interest. Maybe in the future, he'll try out characters like that
Q: Did he meet any friends in the GQ event?
A: He met Li Xian who he met in Italy earlier, otherwise met a lot of new people.
Q: Why is he passionate about being eco-friendly when it comes to fashion?
A: It was inspired initially by his mom. They lived in the countryside with horses, cows, and fields away from the city, and he has seven siblings (he's the sixth oldest/ third youngest) so there are a lot of hand-me-downs and not a lot of new things, so the family kept on using the same things. He gained a deeper awareness of the issue in recent years.
Q: Talk a bit about fashion sustainability
A: A lot of fast fashion material and clothes are thrown out really soon and disposed of really quickly (despite still being in good shape) but a lot of clothing material, especially synthetic fabric can't be recycled, so it's just like throwing out plastic. Actually, a lot of clothes can keep being reused and styled. He's had the inner shirt he's currently wearing for four years.
Q: Any future plans?
A: He has a film project early next year and there are other things he's excited about but can't talk about yet
Q: Is he going to Shanghai Disneyland?
A: He wants to but he doesn't have time
H: You don't even need to go to Disney you look like a Disney character already! (Damn right!!!)
Q: What food have you had in China so far?
A: Don't get him started on the subject of food 😂 He's had a Shanghainese Lunch today and a Cantonese (YAY) lunch yesterday, and he's looking for some spicy food for tomorrow. Also, he had a really crazy allergic reaction and his lips got giant (???). He needs to be careful with food.
T: I see talk about RWRB, what do you want to know? I'll give some secret intel
(me: YESSSSSSSSSS FINALLY)
RWRB questions speedrun:
Q: sequel?
A: ... He doesn't know. He says he thinks Casey has to write another book for that.
Q: Deleted scenes?
A: They're deleted for a reason (DUDE)
Q: BTS?
A: He says he has some on his phone and he would show us but he doesn't have his phone right now, he might post it later (PLEASE DO)
H: He's leaving after three days
T: (reading off comments) Come visit Hong Kong next time? Yeah! (me, who lives in Hong Kong: AHHHHHHHHHH)
Q: Do you know any Chinese nicknames of yours?
A: 忒樂. (tei le, or "Tay"-le) meaning too happy (I made a list of the boys' Chinese nicknames here)
Annddd... That's it! The live was pretty short, like 20 minutes? He ended it by picking up the phone and showing the audience the Shanghai city view himself (I was too busy typing to get a screenshot)
All transcription or interpretation mistakes are mine
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moralesmilesanhour · 7 months
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lil' baby crush
summary: gwen pays miles a visit and gets him to go to one(1) college party. wc: ~1400 a/n: this isn't canon-compliant in that gwen is gay and miles is bisexual here. he's like the 'damn nobody want u fr' 'im sayin like!' image. enjoy!
Miles sighed and sunk down into his chair, the blue light from his laptop illuminating his face. He was currently the only one occupying the shared dorm room, working on an essay that wasn’t due until next month while his roommate was out doing…whatever he was doing. 
Partying, probably.
Despite what he’d often told his parents to explain his sudden disappearances, Miles didn’t really do parties. 
He’d had a taste of them in the form of school dances at Brooklyn Middle: you get there, maybe talk to your friends a little, then stand around trying to figure out how, when, and for how long to dance while the same ten songs rattle your eardrums. 
If he wanted to blast his ears with music for several hours straight, he figured that’s what his trusty bass-boosted headphones at home were for. No complex social ballet required. Even better, he could choose the playlist. 
But it sure made for some boring-ass Friday nights.
Miles got up and rolled his shoulders, fully prepared to go lie in bed for another hour, when he caught a familiar golden light flash across his window. He grinned to himself, wondering which member of what Hobie had affectionately called ‘the Spider-band’ had swung by for a visit.
Tap, tap, tap.
Gwen’s white mask appeared in the frame. She waved as Miles padded over to the window and pushed it open wide enough for her to climb through. Just as her muddy converses were about to touch the floor, he raised an eyebrow.
“Gwanda, you know better.”
“Right, forgot about that,” Gwen laughed, kicking them off. “Old habits, y’know?”
Miles shook his head and grinned.
“So, how’s the thing with MJ going?”
Gwen removed her mask, revealing shoulder-length blonde hair. It fell in choppy layers, and she had replaced the soft pink dye at the tips with a fiery orange.
"Well, it's…going."
Miles crossed his arms.
"Gwen…You did talk to her, right?"
"Y-yeah! I spoke to her," Gwen gnawed at her bottom lip before mumbling, "Once. On the subway."
"Absolutely tragic," he exclaimed dramatically as he fell back on his bed. "My best friend has absolutely no game!"
"Oh, you're one to talk! You think I forgot about 'the shoulder touch'?"
Miles sat straight up.
"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again."
"Just saying," Gwen hopped off of the window sill and sat at Miles' desk. "Enough about me, though. How's campus life? You get wasted at any parties yet?"
Miles shrugged.
"I got invited to one nearby that's supposed to be tonight, but I stayed back. No club meetings this week, either, so…"
Her eyes widened.
"So you're just sitting here?"
"I'm being productive," he corrected, pointing to his laptop. "See? I'm half-way done with that essay, I could probably turn it in a week early."
"Miles."
"What? I'm chilling, Gwen, seriously! Just me and my, uh…" Miles glanced at his bookshelf. "...crossword puzzles."
Gwen stood resolutely, already having made a decision in her head.
"Pick an outfit, we're going to that party."
"Whoah, whoah, wait, hold on–"
Miles hopped to his feet as she threw open his closet and began rummaging through it. 
"Since when do you wear sweater vests?"
She held up several hangers with sweater vests of various colors.
"I wanted to look distinguished…?"
"Nerd," she snorted. "Oh, this bomber jacket looks sick! Feel like going out with it?"
Miles laughed, "Something tells me I don't have much of a choice."
"Correct," Gwen smirked, tossing the jacket at him. "I’m gonna have to borrow one of these hoodies."
-
After a twenty-minute walk (Miles didn’t want to risk swinging), the two stopped in front of a run-down apartment building. Loud music and spinning lights from mini disco balls spilled out of the windows.
"This is it," Miles breathed. "If my first party sucks or gets raided by the cops, I'm never speaking to you again."
"Never know until you try," Gwen replied. "Shall we?"
The place was already packed. There was a lively beer pong game happening in the kitchen, while a pack of students were strung along the walls in the living room puffing clouds of marijuana smoke into the air. The group in the middle of the room, of course, was dancing. Or something that closely resembled dancing.
Miles glanced across the room, scanning the sea of swaying bodies when he noticed one lounging on the couch.
The figure was staring down into a red solo cup, a full head of blonde, ear-length dreads obscuring half of his face until he looked up. 
In a devastating miscalculation, Miles let himself stare a little longer until he realized that their eyes had met. He froze, as if the stranger’s dark eyes kept him in place.
Gwen followed his line of vision. She’d seen that look on Miles’ face before: once when they first met at Visions, and again when Hobie had invited them to a concert and she’d caught Miles ogling the bassist. 
She grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. 
"I'll be by the speakers. Go get 'em, tiger."
Despite his sneakers feeling like they were made of concrete, he took a step forward, then another, keeping his eyes on his target all the while. 
The other boy tilted his head in amusement. 
"Um," Miles began, "I-Is this spot taken?"
"Well, I'm sitting in it, so…"
Real smooth, Miles.
"No! I mean, like, next to you–"
The boy’s eyes became crescent moons as he burst into laughter.
"Relax, I know what you meant. Spot's free," he gestured towards the empty area on the couch to his right.
"O-oh, cool. Thanks," Miles laughed awkwardly. The couch sank beneath him when he sat down.
How the fuck do you flirt with dudes?
He could barely fumble his way through flirting with women, riding almost entirely on them finding his utter lack of game endearing. Now here he was, glancing back and forth between the stranger and a wall.
"Yo, you want a drink?" The boy asked, snapping Miles out of his thoughts. "You look like you need one."
He was probably right.
"Sure, I don't mind."
He rose to his feet, revealing more of his outfit: an oversized black tee layered over a white shirt, with a red kilt draped over a pair of dark wash jeans. A real Jaden Smith type, it seemed. But maybe Miles was into that. 
It wasn't long before he returned with a second solo cup, which he pushed into Miles' hand. 
"So," he asked with a grunt as he sat, "Why you not dancin'?"
Miles snorted, and shook his head.
"I don't dance. Was never too good at it."
"Ah, but is the point of dancing to be good at it?"
"Don't get philosophical with me now, I'm a STEM major," Miles grinned, then took a sip of whatever was in his cup. 
He tried his best to hide his disdain for the brown liquid, but the grimace on his face made it evident. "I didn't catch your name, by the way."
"Call me TJ."
"That's a cute name–I mean, a nice name," Miles winced at himself. "A very…normal name."
TJ laughed, revealing a gap-toothed smile that made Miles' chest swell. "Thanks. Yours?"
"Miles. Miles Morales."
"I think your name's cuter. Bonus points for alliteration."
Miles felt heat rushing up to his ears and cheeks. He hadn't had enough to drink for him to blame it on that. 
"So, why aren't you dancing?" He asked, changing the subject.
TJ shrugged. 
"I prefer to people-watch."
"Oh, so when you do it, it's 'people-watching'," Miles made air quotes with his fingers. "I see how you move."
"And yet here you are, talking to me anyway. No idea why you chose me to sit next to, by the way. It's hella empty seats."
Miles bit his lip. 
"I…didn't come over here just to find a seat, actually." 
TJ raised a bleached eyebrow. 
"So what did you come here for? Clearly not to get high, your pupils look normal."
Miles took a deep breath, his heartbeat louder in his ears than the music.
"You, um…You're…"
Holy shit, just say something!
"Do you like boys? I'm not asking for a friend."
Oh my god. Not like that.
TJ blinked, then a smirk began to spread across his face as he came to a realization. 
"Why, yes. Yes I do. You wanna get outta here? I know a place with actual food."
Miles let out a breathy laugh.
"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that."
"I think I have some idea. You're sweating."
Before he could respond, Miles felt his phone vibrate in his jacket. It was Gwen.
-gwanda: finally!!
-gwanda: if u don’t get his number im gonna be so mad at u. be back by midnight!!
He rolled his eyes.
-miles: ok mom
Miles shut off his phone and rose to his feet, as TJ had already done. He took a deep breath.
“Shall we?”
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lilwifeynextdoor · 15 days
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Your blog is amazing!
Imagine: You are a former feminist, a stay at home mom of many kids, and I'm your feminist friend who visits you one day. I am worried about you and ask if this is really what you want even as I rub your belly and smile. You listen to me rant, all the while thinking that what I really need is some cock and a baby or two of my own. That would keep me happy and see, part of me loves rubbing your pregnant belly already. You decide to slowly corrupt me into becoming an antifeminist breeder, friends don't let their friends remain sad. How would you manipulate me?
Thanks.
Thank you so much!! I'm sorry I took so long to respond! I've been a busy mommy and I wanted to find the time to give this a well thought out answer. Short story below:
I freed myself of feminism what feels like so long ago, but to some five years isn't a long time. Five years ago, I had fallen pregnant with my husband's first child. I dropped out of college and became a stay at home mom around my 7th month of my first pregnancy, upon my then boyfriend now husband's request. He didn't have to do too much persuading as I was already considering it due to struggling with fatigue, waddling, and brain fog. He was right, it was only going to get more difficult for me to walk to classes not to mention trying to think once in the classroom.
It was the right decision for us and his growing baby. But, most all my friendships faded now that I wasn't on campus anymore. You were the only one that came and visited me sometimes, we were best friends and we had met in women's history class. You were so inspired in that class, I could see the passion in your eyes when you spoke about feminism. I was inspired by your spirit, and for a long time I held on to the idea that feminism is about a woman's right to choose, and I made the choice to be a stay at home mom.
Our lifestyles are so different, years went by and our friendship faded more and more. Until one day you showed up at my husband's doorstep. It had been a long while since I had seen you, last we met up my husband and I had 2 children and now we have 5 with his 6th on the way.
Of course I invite you in. My husband is at work and my children are all down for a nap except for our current youngest who I am holding and nursing as we sit at the kitchen table.
You had been so worried about me recently, but now that you are here you take pause. The house was lovely and tidy, the tea I served you was comforting and delicious, and on top of that I was absolutely glowing. Then you notice, the bump I'm sporting moves as the baby inside rolls and kicks. Without thinking you start rubbing my belly, like some sort of strange magnetism, your hands were drawn to it. I scoot closer to you to invite you to continue.
"I've been worried about you" the words you've been meaning to say all this time spill out of you.
An incredulous gasp leaves me when I ask you why you've been worried about me.
"I see your posts on social media, I know this is your sixth in just as many years... congratulations by the way" You stumbled through your words. "Is this what you really want?" You look up from my belly to search my eyes for an answer.
"Of course! This is my choice" I gesture to my home. Which is to you: my cushy prison.
"No it's not, you can't tell that lie to me! I was there, I know what really happened!" You stand up, outraged. "He knocked you up and told you to drop out, he's controlling you and has kept you stuffed full of babies ever since so you can't leave! So you can't live your own life!" The passion in your voice was tinged with some kind of hurt, or jealousy?
"well hold on, you're right our first was a surprise to me. But, I am so happy. I really feel like my experiences have shown me this is the way life is meant to be." I try to soothe you, to call you down from the edge you've gotten yourself onto. "So no need to worry for me okay?" I smile to you, hoping you'll smile back.
When you smile and sit back down, I notice how worn thin you are. Your skin and hair is dull, the way you conduct yourself is full of sloppy and tired movements.
"How are you, are you happy? Have you found your calling?" I ask, but already see the answer.
"Well I'm fine. Work is okay but it's not what it was cracked up to be. All the guys at work are losers, and they are always pissing me off. I do wonder if I haven't found my calling, yeah, maybe I majored in the wrong thing." Your sharp defensive tone falls to a nagging grumble as you go on and on.
"it's a little late to start all over like that and go back to school." I point out.
"You think I should keep sticking it out and climb the ladder?" You try to muster some hope into your voice.
"Actually I was thinking the opposite, you should quit that job. Look for something easier and part time. Do you have a partner? Surely he makes more than you and wouldn't mind you leaning on him for support." I ask, thinking surely you can't have stayed single all this time.
"What do you mean surely he makes more than me?! And no I don't have a boyfriend!" You bolt up again, feeling attacked.
You stormed out on me that day with your ego bruised. But you came back around. My words still stung, because I had a point. It gnawed at you and you couldn't help but try taking my advice. You did get that part-time job, and you spent your new found extra free time at my house helping me with my children and to-do list. With working less you were already doing so much better, not near as stressed, cleared skin, and your hair had shine again.
You slowly but surely stepped away from being career focused as I got you more and more comfortable with domesticity. Women belong in the home, so it was naturally very easy for you to fit right in to the lifestyle. My husband took us shopping as I needed bigger maternity clothes and you definitely needed something more becoming of an available young woman.
Then one day, I had you stay over for dinner and my husband brought one of his colleagues home with him to have dinner with us. The match making game had begun. Now that you were completely ready to settle down and assume the natural role of a woman beneath a man, serving him and birthing his children, any man would be so lucky to have you. You've become such an enlightened woman in these modern times where so many silly girls still cling to feminism like you once did.
Today you're absolutely beaming and radiant. You've announced your pregnancy! Your husband's first baby is officially on the way. I'm so happy for you and I hug you best I can with my husband's 7th due any day now. I'm truly proud of the woman you've become and will continue to grow to be.
(I'm so sorry I'm a confrontation person and not a manipulation person, I did my best, it's still something, I hope you enjoy!)
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elix8r · 1 year
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The Frat Diaries Glossary (heads up: I realized while writing that i’m using a lot of lingo that not everyone might be familiar so this should help you out with understanding everything and the story will make more sense esp if you’re not already familiar with Greek life and also this is all based on my personal experiences so it might be different at each school):
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Rush: a process where prospective sorority and fraternity members and the actual sororities and fraternities meet each other and through this they pick out the people that they want in their organization. Sorority rush (recruitment) is much more of an organized event where PNMs come weeks before school actually start to rush. They have specified schedules that let them know which sororities to meet. This process is so intricate lmao I literally thought I was dying when I went through it cause everyday I had to wake up at like 5am to get ready and got back to my dorm at like 8pm. Each day the amount of sororities you can get back lessen until the last day where you are left with your top two and you choose from there. Fraternity rush is much more of a laidback event that also happens before school starts. Fraternity rush is more about who you know and connections. Many start inviting potential members over the summer to their houses to see if they vibe well with everyone else. Then during the official week of rush, frats will hold events or dinners that are invite only and from there they narrow their choices before handing out bids. 
PNM: potential new member 
Pledge: A non-initiated member of a fraternity. He isn’t considered a full-fledged member and this is usually where the “hazing” happens and a good chunk of them are first years
Chapter: a weekly mandatory meeting held at the sorority house where members come and learn about upcoming events and etc.
Initiation: a very very secretive ceremony that is different for every organization but this is where the new members are officially indoctrinated into being a member of the sorority or fraternity. It’s usually really formal (almost cult-like with coordinated dress code, usually long white dresses) and a big deal. 
Bid: the official invitation you receive from the sorority or fraternity to join them 
Bid day: an important day at the end of rush week where new members run home (sometimes literally) and the sororities throw huge celebrations to celebrate the new members that have received a bid from them 
GBig/Big/little: a big is usually an older member of your organization that is a mentor figure that basically takes you under their wing and helps you adjust to your life in Greek. While not always, these relationships are usually one that develops to an actual older sister/younger sister situation. Your GBig would be the big of your big and all together you would refer to everyone in your group as a family and the little would be the new member
Tailgate: pre-game for a big sports game and it usually involves lots of day drinking, barbecuing, yard games, and socializing 
Darty: day-party
Formal/Semi-formal: kinda like college prom for fraternities and sororities. Usually held in like some city (New Orleans) or a special place and it’s really fun as you’re probably gonna be drunk at it
Game day pin/stickers: Im not sure that this is a thing outside of the South but because it is a thing everyone has on gamedays i’m going to add it. It’s like pins or stickers that usually showcases your sorority’s support for your school. Pins are worn by the members (and maybe parents or significant others as they aren’t handed out in bulks like the stickers are so if you see someone who isn’t in that sorority wearing a pin, then they probably have a close relationship with whoever gave it to them) and stickers are put on just anyone who wants one. Click this link for some examples. 
Letters: the Greek letters for you fraternity or sorority. For example the two main organizations in this story is Epsilon Nu (EN) and Alpha Epsilon Sigma (AEΣ). Many Greek members will be seen sporting their letters on their shirts, hats, computers, backpacks, water bottles, etc.
Dues: how much you pay the organization and it usually covers the cost for the house, meals, membership, etc. 
Date Party/Socials/Mixer: social events that usually have a theme or is held with other fraternities. I’ve been to like My-tie, ski lodge, Hawaiian luau, country-club, etc and they’re just a real fun time to socialize and spend time with your fellow sisters
Philanthropy: Usually each organization has a specific charity or awareness they raise money for (ZTA raises breast cancer awareness and Tri-Delt raises money for St. Jude) and there will also be drives or events held to raise money or volunteer
Executive Board: aka exec is the leadership council for your organization. For example: President, VP of Recruitment, Standards chair, etc.
Standards: This is like HR or risk management. This is the board that makes sure the girls follow rules and policies and if they don’t, then you will be called to standards and given consequences based on what you did wrong. Example: I got fined for talking to a PNM who was a friend of mine outside of rush during recruitment week.
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Author’s Note: I might add more as I write but seriously if you have any questions do not hesitate to send them my way and i will be more than happy to do my best to try to explain things further also I have made my mind to further expand this universe and create stories with some of the other members! so look out for those in the near future! 
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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 months
Text
Respect or Privacy (2)
Tucker is excited for everything about college, even having a roommate for the first time. At least, he is until his roommate Danny turns out to be standoffish and a little bit of a dick. Whatever. It's a disappointment, but he'll survive. The same might not be said of Danny.
My first fic for Phic Phight '24 (part 2)! Prompts used were:
College AU where the characters don't meet until college and Danny has to hide his halfa status from his dorm roommate (your choice which character that is) [from @shadowfaerieammy], and Tucker fucked up. Hard. But it’s like, how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? [from @lexosaurus]
You can also read it on AO3
Chapter 2: Find Out (Chapter 1)
[No warnings apply (I think)]
Tucker applied to switch roommates right away, but apparently that whole process took a lot longer than he would have hoped. Or else his request had gotten lost. He brought it up to the dorm supervisor a couple of times, only to get vague, unhelpful answers and bid for him to be patient and wait his turn. In the meanwhile, the two of them largely ignored each other. Tucker, a little bitterly, and Danny a little guiltily.
By the end of the semester, the roommate switch still hadn't gone through, and Danny and Tucker still had hardly said a full sentence to each other since that fight. They both thought about it every time they saw each other, but it felt far too awkward to bring it up again now.
While Tucker was Packing up to go home for winter vacation, he noticed that Danny wasn't doing the same, but he didn't bother to ask why. When he returned from winter break for the new semester—still rooming with Danny, despite sending numerous emails over the break to ensure his roommate change application was actually being processed—it didn't look like Danny had ever left.
Whatever. That wasn't Tucker's problem. He had more important things to worry about than his lame roommate's pathetic social life.
The end of winter break meant the start of the spring semester, and Tucker was signed up for a cyber-security class that he was really looking forward to. Normally, freshman didn't have the prerequisites to take it, but he'd filled his first semester with all the necessary credits so that he could sign up.
On the first day of class, Tucker walked in to see a list written on the whiteboard. Curious, he took out his laptop and looked up some of the items on it. It looked like a list of databases. Some of them, Tucker had heard of, and some he hadn't. He wasn't sure what they all had in common, or why the professor had written them up on the board, but he assumed that question would be answered once the class actually started, and he assumed correctly.
After the Professor had gone over the syllabus for half an hour, asking that they hold all questions until he was done with his explanation, he pointed to the list on the board.
"Some of you may have noticed this list of databases on the whiteboard, and you're probably wondering why it's there," the professor said. "These are all high-security databases, some of them are privately owned, some are federally owned, or state-owned, or various combinations of all three. All of them are so confident in their security that they offer substantial monetary compensation to anyone able to hack into them and point out the holes in their security.
"As an optional extra-credit assignment, you may choose a database to attempt to hack into," he continued. "If you succeed, in addition to being able to pay for your entire college career, you will automatically pass this class. Your actual letter grade will be determined by the quality and quantity of work you turn in, but you will be guaranteed at least a C as long as you succeed before the end of the semester.
"Again, this is optional. You don't have to do it. There will be no academic consequences for failure, but depending on which database you choose, there may be legal consequences, so choose wisely and don't bite off more than you can chew."
Oh, yeah. Not only would Tucker be taking this extra-credit opportunity, but he would be going big. He was gonna find out which of these databases offered the biggest reward and he was going to tear it to shreds. This was gonna be fun.
"I'll tell you now," the professor warned, "that in my entire twenty-year career teaching this course, only three students have ever managed to cash in on this offer, so don't feel too bad if you... can't hack it."
A round of groans and laughter circulated the classroom. Tucker was among those laughing, though he could understand the groans, as well. He enjoyed a good bad pun, but it was still pretty bad.
After his classes were over, Tucker looked up every database on the list, putting in the time, and doing to research, to figure out how to get the most bang for his buck, and it turned out the one that offered the biggest payout for a successful hack was a privately-run federal government database for an organization called the G.I.W., which was so secretive that Tucker didn't even know what G.I.W. stood for. But he was gonna find out—just like he was gonna find a way right through their digital security system.
Hacking was what Tucker was good at. It was why he'd been so intent on taking this cyber-security class in the first place. However tough the G.I.W.'s security was, FryerTuck was tougher.
A pleasant side-effect of Tucker's extra-credit project, since he worked on it in basically every spare moment between classes and homework, he pretty much always had an excuse to ignore Danny. Danny would take one look at all the code and computer jargon on Tucker's screen and not even say hello. He didn't ask what it was, or what Tucker was trying to do, just left him alone, probably grateful that Tucker was leaving him alone, too.
The G.I.W. security was strong, but Tucker wasn't the type to give up, not on something like this. He just kept hacking away at it. He stayed up late, woke up early, skipped lunch, or ate one-handed. He worked on it for over a month, then two months, until finally, at 3am on a Saturday, in a Mountain Dew-fueled haze, with red-rimmed eyes and aching fingers, he finally found it—the flaw in the armor.
Once he had that, it was only a matter of time before he full broke through, and two days later, he was in.
G.I.W. stood for Ghost Investigation Ward, and the first thing that popped up when Tucker was through the final firewall was the organization's most wanted list. A list of ghosts. Number one was a ghost called Danny Phantom who looked strangely familiar in a way Tucker couldn't quite place and ultimately shook off. After Phantom was a ghost called Vortex, then The Wisconsin Ghost, which was a stupid name. Tucker didn't bother to read the whole list. He didn't actually care about ghosts, he just wanted his reward money.
He used the information on the database to find the contact information for the head of the organization, someone code-named 'Operative Alpha', another stupid name, and sent him an email which explained who he was, detailed exactly how he'd broken into their secure database, and explained why he'd done it. That done, he finally went to bed, expecting a response from Operative Alpha when he awoke.
What he did not expect was to be woken up at seven in the morning after such a late night by a pounding on the door of his room.
"Danny, can you get that?" he moaned, covering his head with a pillow.
He heard Danny grumble something unintelligible and roll over in bed. He could hardly blame the guy. There was a reason Tucker didn't sign up for any classes earlier than 10am. He'd made that mistake last semester and had no plans to repeat it.
Whoever was knocking banged on the door again. "Mr. Foley!"
"Ha!" Danny barked, as triumphantly as he could do so when he was still half-asleep.
Tucker groaned again, but dragged himself out of bed to open the door.
Standing there was a pair of large, burly men in white suits and dark sunglasses. Tucker felt very under dressed in his cheeto-dusted pajama pants and cheesy slogan t-shirt, but that feeling quickly passed, since he was really way too tired to care.
"Mr. Foley?"
"Yup."
"I am Operative L, and this is my partner, Operative U," said the man on the left. "We're with the G.I.W., and we're here to ask a few questions and verify some things you communicated to our superior, Operative Alpha. May we enter?"
"Uh... may you come back at a more reasonable hour?" Tucker asked, trying and failing to blink away the sleep in his eyes. "Maybe in the afternoon? Sorry, but I'm way too tired to answer questions or verify shit right now. I'm not gonna be any good to you until I put in a few more hours between the sheets—sleeping, I mean. I'm not blowing you guys off to fuck."
The two guys looked at each other for a moment before nodding.
"Very well, your terms are acceptable," Operative U stated, very formally. "We will return at exactly 1300 hours."
"That's 1pm," Operative L clarified. "If you're not here at that time, we will hunt you down and show no mercy."
"Uh... understood?"
"Good."
With that, the two operatives turned and left, leaving Tucker standing confused in the doorway behind them. He yawned and shrugged and closed the door.
The instant the latch closed, Danny shot up out of bed, standing in a defensive position in the center of the room and glaring furiously at Tucker.
"Woah, what—"
"What's your association to the Guys in White?" he demanded.
"What, those guys?" Tucker asked.
"Are you working for them?" Danny kept going, sounding halfway desperate and halfway furious. "What do you know?"
"What are you talking about? 'Am I working with them?' Why would I be working with them? What for?"
"Why is the Ghost Investigation Ward knocking on our door asking for you then?"
"Because I hack their database, and now they owe me reward money?"
"What?"
"That's the extra-credit I've been working on the last couple months," Tucker explained. "The professor put a list of databases that offered reward money to anyone who could hack them and show them the flaws in their security. If we manage to collect on any of 'em, he said we'd automatically pass his class. I hacked the G.I.W., so they came to verify shit before they pay me off."
"That's all?"
"Yeah, that's it," Tucker affirmed. No matter how tired he was, though, something still struck him as distinctly odd about this conversation. "Hey, Danny... how do you know about the Ghost Investigation Ward?"
Danny froze like a deer caught in headlights. Tucker could almost see the hundreds of panicked thoughts and potential excuses racing through his head, but what finally came out was:
"I... don't?"
"Oh, you can't play dumb anymore," Tucker denied. "I couldn't even figure out what G.I.W. stood for until I was already into their secure database, and you just casual name-dropped them during your random accusation. Spill."
Again, Danny froze. He looked like he was seriously considering whether he could run. He even glanced to the window like they weren't on the fourth floor with no fire escape on their window. In the end, he swallowed anxiously, squirmed under Tucker's scrutinizing gaze, and bullshitted.
"They uh... they came to Amity Park a lot," he said. "You know, to hunt ghosts. So it's not the first time I've run into them."
But Tucker wasn't interested in a half-truth. He was done with Danny's bullshit and he was going to get to the bottom of this, right now.
"Uh-huh. And why are you so scared of 'em, then?" he asked. "I saw all the ghost hunting shit you keep in that drawer" — Danny started to protest, but Tucker just raised his volume and kept talking over him — "I know you told me to butt out, but fuck that. You hunt ghosts too, or you did, so why are you so freaked about other ghost hunters."
"They're... really bad at it?"
"They're dedicated enough that it took me—me, over two months to break through their security," Tucker said. "Somehow I doubt that a group that serious about what they do is 'really bad' at their main objective. Quit trying to bluff me. Quit beating around the bush. Enough is enough, man. Just tell me the truth."
"I... I can't."
"Oh, then I can just call those guys back and have them tell me—"
"NO!"
Tucker was taken aback by the intensity of Danny's shout.
"So fess up, then," he insisted.
"Fine!"
Danny squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and took a deep breath.
"Fine," he repeated, softer. "The truth is, I'm... I'm...."
"Yeah?" Tucker encouraged.
"I'm a ghost," he finished finally, his voice softer than Tucker had ever heard it, but still audible.
"You're...." Tucker frowned, not really sure what to say. "Okay, you seem super serious about this, so I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I've been living with you for like, six months now, and I think I would have noticed if you were a ghost, so what's goin' on here?"
Danny sighed, went to the window to look out and then make sure the curtain was closed all the way. Then, he looked Tucker dead in the eye... and changed.
Thin, white rings traveled up and down his body, wrapping around his limbs and torso like threads of pure light, and when they disappeared, the person standing there wasn't Tucker's lame, human roommate, Danny Fenton. It was the Ghost Investigation's number one most Wanted, Danny Phantom.
"The reason I know the Guys in White is because they've been trying to destroy me since I was fourteen," Danny said, his voice steady and surprisingly cool. "They refuse to acknowledge that ghost are sapient beings, and unique individuals, and not all of us are evil, so they've been trying to wipe me off the face of the earth. All I want is to just exist... peacefully. But if they find me here, it's game over—and you just brought them right to our door.
Ohhh shit. Tucker had fucked up. Hard. But how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? It had seemed like a perfectly good idea when he learned he could get four million dollars out of it. Now, learning that they might kill (re-kill?) his roommate, not so much.
But how on Earth was he supposed to know it would turn out like this? Danny never talked to him, or told Tucker anything about himself. He never mentioned ghosts, or his opinion of them. He never even bothered to ask what Tucker was hacking the last two months.
"Well, fuck," Tucker said.
"Well, fuck indeed," Danny agreed.
"You know, if you'd just been up-front with me about this shit from the beginning this never would have happened," Tucker insisted. "I gave you every chance, but no! You didn't want to be friends. You'd rather the two of us live together in silence for the whole year. All you had to do was ask me about what I was working on and you could have told me not to mess with it. You had two whole months of opportunities, Danny."
"I thought it was more dangerous for me to tell you!" Danny argued. "The day we met you brought up 'evil ghosts', and I thought there was no way I could ever trust you if that's what you thought! How was I supposed to know you'd back me up, huh? How would I know that?"
"I was joking!" Tucker all but screamed.
"Hey! Shut the fuck up!" shouted someone from the dorm next door. "It's Saturday! Why are you even up this early!?"
"Sorry!" Tucker called back. Then he lowered his volume and hissed, "I was joking! I'm from fucking Elmerton! You think I actually give a single shit about ghosts? No!"
"And I was supposed to know that, how?" Danny hissed right back. "I've been hearing about how all ghosts are evil and cruel my whole life from my fucking ghost hunter parents. When I hear people say ghosts are evil I'm always gonna assume they mean it rather than take a chance and get shot. I have enough bullet wounds."
Tucker couldn't respond to that. He had no idea what to say. He pursed his lips and nodded. Took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Alright, fine," he said at length. "So maybe we both beefed it a little. Enough about how we fucked up, let's try to fix it."
"And how do you plan on doing that?" Danny asked, crossing his arms.
"Well, they don't know yet that my roommate is their most wanted," Tucker pointed out. "And after they talk with me, they'll have no reason to come back here. As long as you're out of the dorm at one o'clock, and stay out until they leave, you're in the clear."
"How will I know when they're gone?"
"You've got a phone, don't you?" Tucker pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Gimme your number and I'll text you."
Danny hesitated, his eyes darting to his desk, where his phone was still charging on the surface.
"Oh, come on man, you can't seriously still be wound up about not wanting friends, can you? I already know your secret, and I'm trying to help you. Just give me your number."
"What if you give it to the Guys in White?"
"Dude, I'm not gonna do that," Tucker said, as seriously as he could manage. "If you'd accepted any of my invitations when we first moved into the dorms, you'd know me well enough to know that I'd never betray a friend."
"We're not friends," Danny mumbled.
"We are now."
Danny's head snapped up to look Tucker in the eye, and Tucker could tell he knew it was the truth.
"Alright," Danny said.
He gave Tucker his phone number, and they both went back to bed and crashed hard for another few hours. Danny made himself scarce at around twelve-thirty, Tucker talked with the G.I.W. and accepted a check for a cool four million that would cover tuition and then some. And when they were gone, he sent Danny a text to let him know.
The plan went off without a hitch, and for the rest of the school year, Tucker had a best friend to hang out with—even if that friend was still pretty standoffish to other people. He found himself thankful that the school never did finish processing his request to switch roommates, and when they left for summer break, both he and Danny requested that they be roommates again for sophomore year. They could only hope that that request would actually be processed sometime in the next two months.
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