#AND THEN I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THURSDAY TO ACTUALLY READ IT. HELL IS REAL AND I'M IN IT

[vulpinesaint]

okay. god. turned poem in. going to kill myself a little maybe but fox transgenderism poem is officially submitted for my creative writing workshop

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE FLIP REVERSE IT DAY 6: Fake Dating Trope Subversion | Teen | 6.2k

DEVASTATED that this is late, but I'm happy with the final result, so it's better that I took my time instead of rushing it lol. Fun lil teacher Steve dynamic for the soul <3 Please enjoy!!

Read the Full Fic on AO3 Made for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Preview below!

Billy has always had his fair share of inappropriate crushes.

An older gentleman passing through from Los Angeles, random tourists at the beach with heavy accents and eyes that he’d have liked to pick apart. One client at the auto shop he used to work at whose AC relay he had to fix, and who returned time and time again to buy coolant. Crushes that he knew were never going to happen, and that he never cared enough about to try. There were hot guys all over San Diego, though few ever truly caught his eye.

Even fewer were a part of his daily routine.

“Max, get the hell up, or you’re walking!”

“Hold on, asshole!”

Billy didn’t mind driving her around, really, but it was only September, and he thought he would lose all of his hair before May. A month since Max hit high school was a month where the pseudo-dad charade was amped up to one-hundred, and he was in for one hell of a ride until she graduated.

It was coming up on one year since it had just been the two of them. Working two jobs since he was fifteen and hiding the money from his dad was the only reason Billy had been able to afford his own place at all, let alone be deemed fit to take over as Max’s legal guardian. He was twenty-four with a clean, safe apartment and steady income, and despite ceaseless arguing that they hadn’t quite gotten over yet, Max was on his side. She would have been no matter what.

“I’m leaving!”

“Jesus Christ, Billy—“

She was still brushing her teeth by the time he revved up the car, worked the engine a few times for dramatics, and grimaced when she spit into the grass. “You are so fucking gross, Max,” he said when she got into the passenger’s seat, idly spinning the wheel of her skateboard.

“Says the guy with cigarette breath.”

Billy laughed; he couldn’t argue there.

Between the radio and forgettable chatter, rides to school were far too loud for eight in the morning, but that was their thing. It was so different from how things used to be, they didn’t care. They liked it that way. Just an obnoxious guy and his more obnoxious step-sister having the time of their lives before something went wrong again, but that would be later’s problem.

Right now, Billy’s problem was pulling up to Sunny Oaks High School without giving himself away by sticking around so Mister Harrington, Max’s biology teacher, could wave hello. It happened once on the first Thursday—maybe he’d recognized Billy from the tour—and the flip in Billy’s stomach was familiar and far too strong. Mister Harrington was one handsome fellow indeed: tall and lean with the most gorgeous brown hair Billy had ever seen. It made his heart race and his face heat up, but that was something he just couldn’t fucking afford, so he got into the habit of letting his tires screech before the door even closed all the way.

It was a crush. One of those based purely on appearances, because he had yet to speak to Mister Harrington. He only heard from Max how much fun he was, that he explained things well and never gave pop quizzes. Apparently he was funny too, which definitely didn’t add to Billy’s narrow image of him in the slightest. Billy didn’t think about him telling some stupid taxonomy joke and laughing while the class watched with confused frowns, or chuckling to himself while grading papers when he came across a particularly wrong answer.

Billy would be over it by the next week.

Okay, by the next month.

Okay, after parent-teacher conferences, because then he would actually speak to Mister Harrington and learn of all the reasons why he was unattractive.

It should have been easy to wait outside the classroom by himself, reading a book to avoid the real parents with spouses and other kids and respectable jobs. It should have been easy to smile, introduce himself, shake a hand with the same charm he’d used since puberty started working in his favor, but Mister Harrington—damn him—made it so much harder. Up close, Billy noticed the moles dotting his cheek and chin and neck and arms—and, god, it was impossible.

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[poupeesdecirque]

Personal Update & Doll Plans!

Maybe some important things to tell.

Glasses, Social Media & real life, a little bit of dolls

First of all: if you are reading this - thank you for being interested in what I have to say.

As I had updated not too long ago I got my next tattoo on the 23rd and it was a quite short lived decision as I had planned on doing it in February but somehow I felt the urge to do something for myself only.

It's healing well but let us come to something else...

Before I made the tattoo appointment I made an appointment to have my eyes checked. I have issues driving in the night and last month at work I had trouble to read a power point presentation.. as my last check was in 2005 I decided it was about time.

I got checked one week ago and the result is my eyes are almost perfect in regards of functionality themselves BUT I have Astigmatism, the lense in my right eye is the worse but the left isn't much better. Yep, my vision is crooked and it explains so SO much for me. Like the fact I was never able to draw straight lines even with rulers and such :') and the issues with driving at night, things are deformed for me, appear wider and broader.

Thursday I was able to pick up my very own first pair of ... glasses. I am adjusting to them now, I had car-driving glasses in before but those were plain window glass just to protect my sensitive eyes from the AC.

And it might be not a big change but right after the Connichi I had cut my hair even after having asymmetrical hair for years, it's three big changes for me, the hair, the tattoo and the glasses on top of work being absolute hell with too much going on.

I have to step back here and there in regards of hobbies and my decision is to step back from the social side, I will be using some of my social media less and less, especially when some last things are settled. I want to concentrate on the sides of my hobbies that bring me joy and not dig through dirt all the time in the little time that I have. I am actively trying to figure out how to use my main media like my tumblr blog here, you might have noticed I have started to write travel blogs and that's the route I want to go, to write down more, to share more of my thoughts, my impressions and all that.

I am reachable, I am here if you have questions, it maybe just will take a while until I reply.

I am handling a lot on top of my real life and art is a hobby, I can't juggle it all in a fair amount, i can't do cosplay, drawing, dolls and writing all at once. Writing is a priority for me same as drawing, I am aiming to do it several times a week.

I want to attend more conventions again and engage with the fandom outside of the internet, I feel like I have lost important connections and want to rebuild them, it's a progress for myself mainly.

Digging through my personal backlog of tasks is another can of worms. I just... took one bite too much too often.

But well, here I am wriggling my way through. Had a nice drawing and writing day today while I finally finished watching a series that came out in July and feel kinda proud I did it (you have no idea, the times I have actually WATCHED a show is now 6 times this year, a movie? Maybe two. it's sad I know but there is mainly just no time left or spoons for it.

In case you read this far and are in for doll related news:

I ordered the body for Bookman and am now waiting for three bodies, a full doll and a new head I just snatched last night! I hope to make the announcement for the head the next days as I made some art to go with it :)

Thank you for your attention <3

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 36: Celebrating You! Just You!

THURSDAY - FALL 18

With the double hit of Alex’s enthusiasm and his encouraging visits to Meteor Elementary, Achilles had managed to push all thoughts of Eddie Bloomsbury to the side, charging full speed ahead on his little writing side project. And when Achilles went full speed ahead, you best be assured that his commitment was unmatched.

It wasn’t surprising that he had finished a first draft in only a matter of days—to be fair, it wasn’t long—just 25,000 some words, and his first drafts often read more like glorified outlines than actual manuscripts. But even so, it wasn’t nothing.

But neither was it anything, really, to be particularly proud of. Just a lot of nonsense. Nothing extraordinary. Children’s literature. Supernatural still, of course. Although this was perhaps a bit older than Henry Spector’s target audience—fifth or sixth grade rather than second or third, but he had always believed those cutoffs were all just arbitrary lies created by publisher’s to market and sell more books. Let people read whatever the hell they wanted to read, free from judgement.

He had done a bird’s eye outline of his adult novel—his “real” project—over the past few days as well, but he found it’d been difficult to focus. He knew it was a good idea, or at least, felt that it was a good idea. He had something he wanted to say, dammit! It was just… hard.

But now that he finally had that silly little side thing under his belt, perhaps it would be easier to finally really zero in his efforts on his Real Project. His Next Big Thing. Achilles’ Come Back to the Respected Literary World. Maybe. He’d have to finish writing the damn thing first. But that was what today was for! Yes, that was the plan for today.

At least, until he received an exuberant knock on his front door.

Elliott was on his porch, standing even taller than usual while bouncing on tip-toes, hands all aflutter.

“I’ve done it, my friend!” Between his large fingers was what must’ve been a nearly four inch thick stack of pages.  

“Pardon?”

“I’ve finished! The first official draft of Camellia Station is complete! And of course, to have done it without you, my dear, dear friend, I certainly could not have!” Without waiting for an invitation, Elliott crossed the threshold into Achilles’ home and, in a tight embrace, lifted him square off his doormat.

Well. This was quite a turn of events. So much for today’s plan.

Achilles was struggling to free his hands from his pockets—Elliott’s hug was awkwardly pinning his arms to his sides—and so waited for Elliott to set him back on the floor before pulling the man in for another (less twirly) hug, as well as the classic Stardew Valley clap on the back. “Congratulations, Elliott, that’s amazing!”

“Could not have done it with you, my friend, could not have done it without you.” Elliott dabbed his eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. “Your unfailing encouragement, your generous advice, and your constructive notes… oh what a frabjous day it was for Elliott St. Laurent when Achilles Desrosiers decided to move to Stardew Valley!”

During their triweekly lunches, Achilles had read a few chapters here and there of Elliott’s romance novel. It admittedly wasn’t the genre he usually erred towards, but nevertheless, he had surprisingly (though he would never admit his surprise to either himself or Elliott) found Elliott to be a strong writer—the plot, if basic, was charming; the action sequences striking; the love triangle palpable. What had been most intriguing, though: Elliott had proven to be significantly more concise in his written words than his spoken.

All in all, Camellia Station was a strong novel. A strong adult novel. One with… to reference a review written by one who shall not be named, literary merit. And potential.

That being said, Achilles resolved to put a lid on the bits of envy already bubbling in his stomach—Elliott had been working on his romance novel for over five years now, the man deserved to share his joy untainted. And a debut, no less.

Achilles gestured weakly towards the shoe rack as he sought to find his voice. “Oh, Elliott, please no, this is all you… come, take a seat, let me get you a drink…”

Elliott followed him to the living room before Achilles scurried to his fridge for some lavender lemonades.

“My dear friend, I do hope you will be able to join me in an evening of, shall we say, both celebration and libation?”

“Of course! What were you thinking—”

“Ah hah! And what is this?” Elliott, too excited to take a seat, had left the living room to join Achilles in the kitchen, and was now pointing at the dining table where Achilles had left the scattered outline pages he had been planning to spend today cracking. “How is your writing going, my dear friend? Anything of which I can perhaps be of assistance?”

“Ah. Well…” Achilles quickly slid over the bottle of lemonade and gathered his notes, straightening them against the table. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Elliott waggled his finger as he took a sip from the drink. “You always told me, ‘never is it nothing!’ That writing anything at all was an achievement in and of itself!”

Yeah, but I didn’t actually believe it. At least, not for myself.  

The thoughts he kept inside, but it was easy for Elliott to interpret Achilles’ silence as disagreement, and so her further urged, “Please, my friend, I kindly request you celebrate any and all your achievements in the manner that they deserve!”

Achilles forced a chuckle. “They’re just notes, Elliott, that’s all. You know, I did actually finish something this morning, too, but—”

Elliott rose from the kitchen chair with a gasp and a rather impressive kick of his heels. “Achilles! That’s incredible news, we must allow ourselves both a celebration—”

“No, no, no, no, no. It’s nothing. I mean it, just some silly little thing.” Now these,” he tapped the crumples pages in his hands, “How about when I finish with this one, I’ll hit you up and we can have ourselves—”

“We shall celebrate. Tonight”

“Yes, we shall! Celebrate! You! Just you!” But his words fell on deaf ears as Elliott paced around the kitchen, hands clasped together deep in serious thought, even though Achilles was about 99% sure Elliott was going to suggest—

“The saloon! Why don’t we have ourselves a late lunch! Or perhaps it is now early dinner.” Elliott checked his watch. “All the stops!”

“Right. Sure. Fine. Let’s do it. Why not?” Achilles glanced at the open pages of today’s planner entry. Eh. His novel could wait.

*****

“Now my dear Achilles, I was hoping… perhaps, if you happen to have some choice spare hours in your day, and allow me to emphasize—only if you have this available time, especially as I now know you have just completed a novel of your own—”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a novel—”

“—but if you do, I humbly ask if you would be able to...”

Elliott had trailed off, hands steepled together.

“Take a look?”

“Why yes! That exactly! I would be incredibly honored if your eyes could spare a minute—”

“Absolutely. It’d be my honor.” Thought it’d definitely require more than a spare minute…  Achilles eyed the thick stack of pages, which were now safely secure in a two inch binder he had dug up in one of his suitcases.

This final bit of business now taken care of, Elliott slid his arm cheerily into Achilles’.

“Now, Ell, you called it a first draft earlier—is it really? I feel like you’ve had quite a bit done for awhile now.”

“Oh ho, I suppose if one were to define a first draft as the very first completed and whole version of a novel, then these six hundred or so pages here—which you have so kindly hole punched for me —do qualify! You see, my friend, I have always revised heavily as I go, so while this is indeed the first time these pages have truly come together in a wholly coherent manner of my satisfaction, the scenes themselves have individually gone through countless and countless iterations!”

Personally, it didn’t sound much like a first draft to Achilles, but this was not a battle worth fighting.

600 pages. Sheesh! Now that was an accomplishment in and of itself. Apparition had been scarcely 300… not that length mattered, but even so, hearing Elliott recount his work, his dedication, his pride…

Useless. Why do you even try—move on, you bastard. Do something else.

Achilles had to shamefully remind himself one again to squash that bitter seed threatening to take root. Not that Elliott had noticed any sort of dark energy emanating from his companion—no, the writer was far and away distracted by his own beams of bubbling euphoria, half-skipping down the path to Pelican Town.

“Oh, my dearest friend! Is this how you felt, all those years ago when you completed your very first novel? And is it like this every time—oh, please don’t tell me, I would be loathe to learn that this rapturous thrill I feel will fade. No, for now, at this moment, I shall allow myself to fully embrace this delectation, for I feel like light itself!

“This gem for which I have spent years and years mining has finally been unearthed—naturally, it still needs polishing, but I suppose never is it too early to beseech the universe, to kindly ask that someone see its potential and set it in a diamond ring for the whole world to one day bare witness. Imagine!” Elliott’s eyes shone as he held the binder to his chest. “Camellia Station: a novel by Elliott St. Laurent. In a bookstore near you.”

*****

“To us!”

The two were sitting in the same saloon booth they had sat in so long ago during their very first dinner at the beginning of Summer. Elliott had immediately called for champagne, and was now raising his glass for what would likely be only the first of many toasts.

“Barman! Gus, my dear fellow, Achilles and I have both finished a first draft of our novels— please, join us in our celebration and have a glass yourself!”

“Well, that’s a cause for celebration indeed! Don’t mind if I do.” Gus hurried to give himself a pour and the three clinked their glasses.

“So, please, tell me, my friend. What is next?” Elliott doffed an invisible cap as Gus returned to the kitchens. “Ah yes, thank you, dear barman!”

“What’s next? For you or for me?”

“Oh! Look at me. Utterly selfish, a complete embarrassment… A thousand apologies, Achilles, I’m afraid I was asking for myself.”

Achilles only laughed at Elliott’s remorseful, hangdog countenance. Remarkable how rapidly those hazel eyes could flit through a whole spectrum of emotion.

“Well I mean, I’ll read your novel, Elliott, but whenever you feel like you’re feeling pretty good about it, you might as well start sending it to agents. I’d give you the name of the one I had, but she doesn’t really do romance novels. Or adult lit.” After a beat, he added, “She also probably never wants to talk to me again, so there’s also that.”

Emily had now come over with a plate of crab rangoons in her hand. “On the house!” Looking at each of them in turn, she added, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Oh year dear Emily, yes they are! Please, join us!”

“I guess it’s slow enough right now, I should be fine for a quick bite, right?” With a wink, she took a seat next to Achilles and popped one of the complementary rangoons into her mouth. “So Elliott, word on the street is that you’ve written a romance—tell me more…”

*****

Word had quickly spread among the small town—even Lewis had paid them a quick visit, purchasing two of Gus’ cheapest ales for the pair.

“Fantastic,” the mayor had said, thumping Elliott’s back. “We’re real proud of you, Elias—you’re well on your way to becoming an upstanding member of this community!”  

After Lewis was Caroline, after Caroline Robin, and after Robin came Willy, each purchasing more drinks than the last.

“My friend, if this is the scene for mere drafts, imagine the festivities when we publish!” Elliott exclaimed, raising his champagne glass in what must’ve been his tenth toast, though Achilles had long switched to tea.

Leah had joined them just as the dinner rush began to start, enveloping Elliott in a tight hug accompanied by a peck on the cheek that turned him redder than the cherry tomatoes Achilles had been shoveling into his mouth. “Honestly, Elliott… you can’t deliver this kind of news over text! Congratulations!”

Elliott can afford texting?

“And you! Snaps to you, too, Achilles.” He merely waved aside her congratulations, knowing she’d steamroll over the “we’re just celebrating Elliott” that he’d been parroting to their other well-wishers all afternoon, but Leah still insisted on giving him an awkward hug from across the table. “Stardew’s got two published writers now, eh? Bet Lewis is happy…”

“Please, just one,” Elliott hurried to correct, still slightly pink in the face. “I have not quite reached that stage yet—but let us manifest!”

“Yeah, yeah, you will, I’m sure of it.”

Emily, who had dropped by with another tankard of ale for Leah, turned towards the front door which had just swung open. “And here comes the rest of town—goodness, Abigail, what happened to your face?”

“Got in a real nasty fight with a raccoon,” Abigail said, giving Achilles a rather obvious wink with her one good eye. The other was swollen and bruised purple. Achilles felt his stomach tighten at the sight and sweat began to dot his palms—what had happened down in the mines? Were the spirits getting worse?

Abigail leaned against their table, flanked, per usual, by Sam and Sebastian.

“Nah, just kidding, just bad luck with a grid ball. Who knew Seb had such an arm, right? Don’t worry. Now a little bird told me celebrations are in order…” Without any indication of embarrassment, she roughly ruffled Elliott’s hair (Achilles’ smoothly dodged her hand). “It’s time to par-tay! Next round’s on me. And by me, I mean ye olde Pierre, the old man.”

Or perhaps everything was fine, and whatever had happened down there had just been an unfortunate accident. Those were bound to happen at some point, right? Really, it was a miracle she had managed to escape so unscathed thus far, probability had to catch up at some point…Abigail was clearly still in high spirits, there was nothing to worry about… if there were, she’d let him know. Or Marlon would let him know. Right? He’d asked them to keep him in the loop…

“So. What kind of book?” Sebastian asked, turning to Achilles. “Horror?”

“Oh, we’re actually just celebrating Elliott,” Achilles said quickly, nodding at the binder. Luckily, both Leah and Elliott were too distracted with the dinner menus Emily had brought over to correct him. “Camellia Station. It’s a romance.”

Sebastian’s face was impassive. “Eh.”

*****

At 6 o’clock, Alex, Haley, and Penny arrived together, fresh from the bus, their respective gym, camera, and messenger bags still hanging across each of their shoulders.

“Now, we’ve heard conflicting news, Achilles, so you’ll have to clarify for us.” Haley pulled him into a stilted hug and kissed him on both cheeks (she did not do the same with Elliott). “Are we celebrating you and Elliott or are we just celebrating Elliott?”

“Just Elliott—”

“Why the two of us, of course!”

“Nothing to celebrate,” Achilles grunted. This was getting tiring.

“Don’t listen to the man,” Elliott said, waving an exuberant hand dangerously close to his sixth tankard. “Achilles here has finished a splendid draft of a novel as well!”

Achilles snorted into his tea as Elliott shook his head in disbelief. “Dear friends,” (at this, Haley gave a derisive little laugh), “I must request—if I possess this same blasé attitude after writing my seventh book—Yoba willing—please give me a right good shake!”

“No thanks,” Haley sniffed before turning back to Achilles. “Well. Whatever the fuck you think, we are very excited for you. Alex, no, you go ahead and sit down, I’m going to the bathroom—Penny, come with?”

Alex slid into the booth just as Emily, who was really being kept on her toes tonight, once again came back over to take the newcomer’s orders and refill the waters.

“We really need more celebrations like this! What a lovely energy we’ve got going on here tonight, I rarely ever see the saloon this crowded in the Fall. I expect Haley will want a coconut water… Alex?”

“Can I get an apple juice? And maybe some pancakes and eggs?”

“You got it!”

*****

“So… can I see?” Alex was already reaching for the binder that Elliott had set squarely in the center of the table.

Alex leafed through the neatly penned pages (so unlike your crusty, ink-stained outlines… Achilles thought with a squirm of displeasure) eyes wide in admiration even as he struggled to decipher the tight handwriting.

“Dang, Elliott. This is a lot. I’m real impressed. Gotta admit, not really much a romance kind of guy, but you bet I’ll be buying a copy.” Alex slid the binder back and turned to Achilles, giving him a sharp, upward nod. “And where’s your papers?“

“Don’t have them on me.”

“A likely story.”

“I’m serious. Probably wouldn’t be able to read it anyway, a lot of it’s in shorthand. And my handwriting’s ass.” And none of it makes sense. And it’s just plain bad.

“Now you’re just making up excuses.”

“You’ve seen my handwriting, it’s atrocious—it’s why I used to type a lot more. Had this beautiful Émile Horst typewriter that I wrote almost all my previous shit on. But I threw it out six years ago. And then set it on fire. A computer really just isn’t the same… Suffice to say, not a decision I look back on fondly.”

His booth mates didn’t even bother to hide their quizzical looks.

“Why… would you do that?” Leah asked.

Why would you share that? Must’ve been the champagne.

Achilles pretended not to hear. Lucky for him, Haley and Penny chose that moment to return, pulling two more chairs to the head of table.

“I won’t stay for long, have a lot of photos to edit—an engagement,” Haley explained, picking a tiny pink umbrella out from her drink. “Though why anyone would choose to get engaged in Zuzu is beyond me, it’s the least sexy spot I’ve ever set my eyes on.”

“Oh yeah? You can say that again…” Leah said, darkly stabbing her falafel. “So. What do you think is the best place to get engaged, Haley?”

“Hmm, the beach maybe.” Haley batted her eyelashes ever so slightly. “Now someone tell me, who on earth ordered the pancakes and apple juice? It’s 6:30pm.”

*****

“Why don’t you ever want to celebrate yourself?” Alex asked, after the group (namely Elliott) had finally agreed to call it a night.

It was just them two now, turning south down the moonlit path towards the cemetery. Elliott had given everyone another hug and kiss on the cheek before skipping—actually skipping—back to the beach.

“What are you talking about, you know there’s nothing I love more than celebrating myself.”

“Ash, come on. You know what I’m talking about. Tonight—”

“There was nothing to celebrate,” Achilles said with a small shrug. “I’ve written like a million first drafts in my life, Al. Not a big deal for me. It was Elliott’s moment.”

“Real generous of you. I’d almost believe it if you hadn’t looked like you wanted to kill yourself whenever you thought no one was looking.”

“Ok, I didn’t look like I wanted to kill myself—”

“Nope, you can’t fight me on this. No mirrors buddy, I see you a lot better than you can see yourself.”

The words gave Achilles pause, though likely not for the reasons Alex suspected.

Though he rarely pushed, Alex had proved to have had a knack of seeing through Achilles’ poker face and pinpointing the anxiety and frustrations bubbling within. And he had also proved, that, despite mostly shying away from preaching or giving any direct advice, he had had a peculiar gift, for lack of a better word, for easing Achilles’ aforementioned melange of vexing emotions.

Besides Abigail’s black eye reveal, he had barely thought of the mines since his chat with Alex. And here the man was again. Ready—eager even—to listen to Achilles’ anxieties and his woes and his millions of problems all the while asking for nothing in return.

Achilles wasn’t used to this. Out of practice, really. He hadn’t had a friend like this in nearly a decade, as embarrassing as it was to admit it to himself.

He sighed—Yoba, sighs must’ve 50% of what came out of his mouth these days.

“It just… it doesn’t mean much, Al. Not compared to Elliott. I was writing because I just needed something to do. It’s not… real literature or shit, like Elliott’s is. It’s not going to be anything. It was just for fun.”

“Eh…” Alex stopped in his steps. Filling the silence, he knelt to pick up a stray pebble from the ground before hurling it aimlessly in the air. It clattered against Lewis’ roof. “Whoops, didn’t mean to do that— Okay, I know I don’t read, but what even is real literature, though? And what do you mean it’s not going to be anything, you’re not going to try to publish? Come on, I’ve been waiting six years for my favorite author to come out of retirement, this is just unfair.”

Achilles laughed, watching as Alex flung another pebble totally-not-towards Lewis’ house. “‘Favorite author’—you just said don’t even read, you twat. Anyway, six years is nothing. There are authors out there who have decades in between their books.”

“Oh ho, so you’re saying there’s a chance…”

Again, he laughed, but this time Achilles quickly moved to add, “Al, I appreciate your support. You’re… a good friend. A good fan, really, but I just don’t think I can bring myself to do it again—”

“Achilles, I’m going to be straight with you.” Alex dropped the pebble and turned to better face Achilles. “I think you’re the coolest person in Stardew Valley. Hey, maybe even all of Ferngill, maybe even the world.”

Achilles rolled his eyes. “Drank too many celebratory ales tonight?”

“I mean, Elliott is cool too, but I mean, like I said earlier, do I really look like a guy who knows how to appreciate romance? I don’t understand that stuff. But you’ve just… you’ve done it before. I don’t see why you can’t do it again. I mean, I guess the real question is, do you want to? Because to me, if kind of feels like you want to, and you know what you always say about things people want to do, they have to all ‘fully commit’—”

“I don’t know if I want to. I shouldn’t want to. I’m not good at it.”

“Achilles—”

“It’s just… all I’ve written is nonsense. Just a bunch of words.”

“Aren’t all books ‘just a bunch of words?’”

“Yeah, okay, smart ass, but some books do a much better job putting those words in order. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m bad. I know I’m not bad. I just… don’t think I’m good either.”

To this, Alex had no response, and in a way, Achilles was grateful. He didn’t want advice. He was just wanted an ear.

Alex set down the stone in his hand.

“Hey, come sit with me for a bit. Moon’s pretty bright tonight.”

“Done beating up Lewis’ house?”

“Yeah, thought I saw a shadow in the window…”

Achilles followed Alex to Dusty’s pen, where they sat against the fence. Seeing Achilles survey the shadows of the space, Alex added, “Dusty’s inside. Probably sleeping in one of his four beds, real height of luxury, that dog doesn’t know how good he has it…”

He chuckled and turned his attention to tearing out stalks of grass instead, as Alex gazed upwards at the stars.

“You know, I looked him up.”

“Hmm?” Achilles looked up from the sloppy 3x3 inch mat he had managed to weave over the past five minutes.

“Eddie Bloomsbury. I looked him up. After you mentioned him a few weeks ago.”

“…oh.”

“He’s dead.”

“Yeah. I know.” Achilles abandoned his blades of grass, but Alex was still looking at the stars, leaning back on hands that were only an inch or two away from Achilles’ own.

“I’m really excited for what you’re writing, Ash. And I think you should prove him wrong, if you want to. For your own sake.”

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

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[nagdabbit]

a song that will dig into my bones (4/?)

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Five

words: 2.9k

jon moxley/bryan danielson, eddie kingston

(only slightly edited from the snippets that have already been posted. the day i run out of stuff to post and actually have to wait on myself to write is gonna suck for me)

also on ao3

.

It took him a couple weeks—a month and a half, maybe—to even notice. It didn't feel new, not really. It felt like a piece slotting into place. But even that wasn't quite right. Bryan didn't feel out of place in the shop to begin with. He didn't feel like an interloper, an intruder. Not to Jon. He barely noticed the change because it felt right to have Bryan there. 

Much like the rest of Jon's merry band of babysitters, Bryan tended to show up unannounced. Wandering through the alley door some Saturday afternoons, showing up with coffee and rolls on a random Thursday morning. He'd just sort-of appear in the shop, like he worked there or maybe never really left, already futzing with his calendar and looking through orders without even needing to be asked.

It was kinda nice.

He didn't loudly announce his presence, not after the first time. Hell, sometimes Jon didn't even realize he was there, not until he forcibly pulled Jon's chair away from the desk and thrust a sandwich into his hands.

He was quiet, where Eddie was loud, and was a little stoic, where Wheeler was all enthusiasm and sunshine. But he wasn't disruptive, not in any real way. He didn't try and change Jon's routines, didn't get in his way—deliberately or otherwise. He was a quiet kind of comfortable to be around.

Not that he couldn't be a shit-stirring little prick when he wanted. He absolutely could be, and he seemed to relish in it. But he tended to save that for people who weren't Jon.

Like Eddie, for example. Eddie was fair game.

He heard bickering before it really registered to him that he was listening to people. Familiar people, at that.

One voice was snotty and condescending, the other brash and gravelly, both of them growing louder by the second. He shoved his glasses up onto his head and pushed away from his desk, ambling toward the doorway. He trusted the poultice to do its job, because apparently he couldn't trust either of them to.

He found Bryan perched on the counter next to the register, calmly pretending to read, while Eddie was pacing as he absently sorted the carts into some kind of order. They were bickering, loudly, about the audacity of Bryan to bring his smug fuckin' face out here where he wasn't wanted.

Jon rolled his eyes and interrupted, dryly, "If you two are done, I got shit that needs shelving."

"Yeah, Kingston, get to work," Bryan snipped and went back to his book. The fucking brat. He wasn't even reading, he was just staring at the page for the sake of pissing Eddie off.

"Nope, you take classics," Jon announced, snatching the book from his hands. It was a ratty thing, something that had been brought in a few days before. A well-loved book on rooftop gardens. He'd kept it under the desk, thinking it might be useful one day, when he had the time to do anything with the empty rooftop upstairs. Not that he could keep any kind of plant alive, but he was willing to try. "C'mon, move your ass."

Bryan narrowed his eyes, "Who'll watch the register?"

"You got a good vantage from classics, and you'll hear the bell." Jon rolled his eyes and shoved Bryan off his perch. "C'mon, off you go, stop being a dick."

"I'm taking my break," he argued, but—didn't actually push back, he willingly went where Jon pushed him. Even Wheeler liked to fight back, sometimes.

Eddie squawked out a laugh from the other side of the store, "Ha! He still thinks he gets breaks!"

"He's right, breaks are for employees only." He gave Bryan a shit eating grin, just because he'd kinda been caught. Bryan was stuck, now. Had his own little home-away-from-home there, in the stacks. He couldn't back out, even if he thought Jon's jokes were stupid. 

Bryan grumbled and narrowed us eyes, "You're buying lunch."

"Sure, sure. Gotta earn that, though."

"Don't make shelves these out of order," Bryan threatened, claiming his own cart to drag off into the books. "I'll do it, too!"

"Just because you're not an employee don't mean I won't still fire you." It was a weak threat, but it made Bryan's lips twitch upward.

"I hear Barnes & Noble is hiring," Bryan shot back, unable to hide his small, sharp grin. "I hear they've at least got a benefits plan."

Jon pressed a hand to his heart, gave Bryan the most obnoxiously wounded look he could manage. "Words hurt, Bry."

He scoffed, but he still wore one of those little, smirking grins.

Eddie, when Jon turned to go back to work, looked disgusted. He raised his eyebrows at Jon, mouthing, "Bry?" at him. 

Jon shrugged at him, because even he didn't know where that came from. Eddie grimaced and flapped a hand at him, waving back toward his work. 

Yeah, not a thing was out of place. 

They didn't bicker loud enough to distract him, which was thoughtful of them. They still shot the occasional insult across the store—not that Jon really thought they’d actually stop—but they traded off customers without needing to argue about it, so Jon figured that was all the cooperation they were capable of. Besides, it was a funny soundtrack to have. All that squabbling.

When he'd got the call—that Mr. B was gone, that he'd left the shop to Jon, of all fucking people—and moved back, the place had been eerie and silent. It had been awhile since Mr. B was able to spend long days working, and the place showed it. It was fucking—awful. None of that warmth that Jon remembered. Just a cavernous shell of what it had been, enough space of all his guilt and shame to echo around in.

Now it was filled with laughter. Even when no one was there with him, it didn't feel empty or lonely or cold. 

He liked to think Mr. B would've been proud of him, what he made of the place. Hoped he would be, anyway. 

 .

 Bryan startled him out of his work, a hand heavy on his shoulder. "Hey, c'mon, come see some sunlight," he murmured, giving Jon a small smile. "I got lunch."

His eyes were—nice. Pretty blue, little slivers of gold. Still unnerving as all shit, but pretty. "Uh. I'm kinda busy."

"Uh huh, and it's 3 in the afternoon," Bryan said, dryly. "You haven't moved in at least four hours."

"So I haven't burned any calories," Jon argued, forcing himself to look away before he got distracted. It was always overwhelming, meeting Bryan's gaze. "Gimme twenty minutes."

"Nah, I will get a spray bottle, Mox, I swear to god," Eddie grumbled, and shoved Bryan out of the way. He gripped the back of Jon's chair and rolled him backwards out of the room. "It'll keep for twenty minutes."

"You don't know that."

"Nah, but I know you, and you wouldn't be letting me do this if it wasn't true." He paused long enough to smack Jon across the back of the head, then continued his trek. "So tough tits. It's time for lunch."

"You know, most people respond better to classical conditioning, than insults and force," Bryan mused, following along behind them. He had some of those stupid, infuriating look on his face. All kinda smug, full of silent laughter.

"You met this guy?" Eddie scoffed, "He ain't most people."

Bryan's expression widened into a smile, "Yeah, I know."

Jon was kinda getting used to that smile.

Eddie grumbled something under his breath and shoved Jon and his rolly chair into the space behind the counter. There was a whole break room and office in the building, but they never really used either of those for anything but storage. They all pieced together a much nicer space to sit and eat together.

There was a ratty, roadkill armchair Wheeler had dragged in one morning, way back when he'd still been just a part-timer, coming in between training and school. He found it on the way over, one of the many treasures left out of the sidewalk as students moved out at the start of summer. A week later, Eddie had added a small end table.

It kept on after that. There were easy chairs in the kids' section he'd set up, a few roadkill couches hidden in quiet corners, stools and desks hidden throughout the place. There was a stolen park bench Wheeler refused to give the story on, tucked away by the comics. Jon got the feeling it might've been mostly Chuck and Jim's fault, but Wheeler wasn't giving up anything. But there were a few stolen barstools, too, that Eddie refused to own up to.

And each one of them had been refinished and reupholstered by Jon himself. Because he'd learn any fucking new skill to avoid being the one who had to make smalltalk with customers.

It made the place cozy. Lived in. 

Eddie paused long enough to yanked the broken glasses off of Jon's face and drop them into the trashcan, then threw himself down into his new favorite spot, the cushy wingback Wheeler had brought in just a couple months before. Bryan chose the armchair to Jon's right. It wasn't a real comfy thing, but the seat was wide enough for Bryan to tuck his feet up under himself like he felt at home.

"I can't believe you're makin' me eat your fuckin' vegan shit," Eddie groused, glowering at the wrapped bundle Bryan tossed to him. "I get enough a'that shit from Ethan, man."

"You could've bought your own lunch," Bryan said, reasonably. Jon may have struggled to read people at the best of times, but he'd learn how to recognize Bryan's own brand of glee. Lips turned up to one said, eyes crinkling at the corners, gaze intent as he watched for the pay off of whatever he was trying to pull. "I asked if you had a preference."

Eddie just gave him a dry look. "Don't do that. Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you hid a fuckin' dog biscuit in here or some shit." He poked at the package, like he thought it might attack, but hunger won out. 

Jon's own sandwich was close enough to fried chicken that it didn't bother him too much. Texture wasn't quite right, and it didn't really taste like chicken, but—it was fine. Eddie kept watching him, between trading barbs with Bryan, like he thought Jon might have a real problem with it. Admittedly, he wasn't adventurous when it came to food, but—it could've been worse. At least there was nothing on it that he didn't know the name of.

If Bryan caught anything, he didn't say. Had it been the other way around, Eddie with his weird food hangups, he'd have needled just a little. Just because it was Eddie. Jon, though, seemed to be off-limits.

Jon relaxed and let their heated bickering wash over him. Mused on what he could do, in-between projects. There was an estate sale, out about halfway to Pittsburgh. The auctioneer called Jon up any time he had a seller with a lot of books. He had some special orders he should get to finding, rare books that didn’t usually wander into his hands without a lot of effort on his part. He needed to restock his supplies, too, before he ran out. Maybe, finally, think about writing up a new ad and getting someone hired. It’d make Wheeler relax, at least.

He tuned back in at a lull in their sparring match. Bryan was studying Jon, expectantly. Like he'd said something that hadn't been heard. Eddie was frowning, brow pulled low, eyes flicking between the two of them.

"Uh, yeah?"

Bryan's lip twitched, "I asked if you'd be working late tonight."

"Oh, ah. No." He willed down the heat in his cheeks, as much as he could. "Not, too late."

"So I should drag you out before midnight," Bryan joked.

He didn't know what Eddie was seeing, as he looked between them, but he seemed more grossed out than genuinely angry. He was territorial at the best of times, but this was different. Felt different, even to Jon.

Eddie seemed to find whatever he was looking for, and rolled his eyes. "Alright, I know when m'the third wheel," he grumbled, and threw his balled up trash at Bryan's face as he stood. He hooked a hand around the back of Jon's neck and smacked a kiss to his forehead, just like he always did. "M'gonna go bother Yoots, I'll see you tomorrow, Moxie. Danielson, see you fuckin' never."

"What, I don't get a goodbye kiss?"

"Not until they make a vaccine for whatever flavor of jackass you got. I ain't lookin' to catch anything from you." He gave Jon another of those raised-eyebrows-pursed-lips-head-tilt looks, before he turned and made his way out of the shop. 

"One day I'll be friends with him," Bryan murmured, thoughtfully, as he watched over the counter as Eddie ambled off down the sidewalk.

Jon snorted before he could stop himself. "No, you won't." 

"No, I won't, but it'll be funny to annoy him with attempted friendship." Shit-stirring pick. Jon was starting to enjoy having Bryan around so often. He glanced back at Jon, his gaze still so intent. Like being under a microscope.

He looked away, trying to ease that little itch of discomfort. If he could figure out where he took his many spare pairs of glasses were, he'd have something to hide behind.

"You don't actually like eye contact, do you?" 

Jon shook his head, "I hate it. I get the point of it, but it's—it's a lotta things."

He watched Bryan tilted his head a little, like one of those confused dogs. Trying to parse Jon's words. "There are a lot of reasons, you mean?"

"No, I mean—it's a lot. Eye contact. It's overwhelming, I guess."

Bryan hummed a little. "How so?"

"You know when you've got an itchy tag on your shirt?" he asked, thinking back on how he'd explained it to Eddie once, years before. "And it's just kinda overwhelming? Like it's the only thing you can feel. Like you can hear it, it's so itchy. Takes up all the room you got in your head, all your senses kinda dampened."

Bryan hummed again. He nodded at Jon, one of those encouraging kinda ones that Wheeler sometimes used on him. "And eye contact is like that? Loud and itchy?"

"Yeah. It's fine, sometimes. Doesn't itch as much if m'angry. Guess the angers a little distracting, or something." He huffed out some kind of chuckle, "That's probably not normal."

"There's other words for it, but—it's not not normal."

He felt himself make a face and gave Bryan a bland look. "You know, talkin' in riddles is even less helpful than you think it is."

"I'm not trying to be helpful," Bryan snipped back, swatting at Jon's shoulder as he stood and stretched. "I'm just trying to get to know you again."

And that was—something, wasn't it? They hadn't exactly been close, back in the day. They could work together just fine, they could hold a conversation, could stand to travel together if they got stuck riding to the next city together. But Jon didn't always offer a whole lot of himself up, and he didn't remember Bryan ever pushing. He could weasel out all kinds of information and secrets without his target realizing, he was a fucking tactician in and out of the ring. But he'd never tried that shit on Jon.

Must've been something to that. Must've been a reason. Maybe he just hadn't been interesting enough to hold Bryan's attention. At least, not until he'd disappeared. Then he'd been a mystery, a puzzle to pick apart and solve.

And maybe he wasn't giving Bryan enough credit; he hadn't, exactly, gone out of his way to get to know the man either. He could theorize about Bryan's motivations all day long, but that's all they'd be: theories.

"So," he began, pulling Jon out of his thoughts. "I've just been making you extremely uncomfortable every single time I try and talk to you, huh?"

He shrugged, "It's my hangup. Not like you knew."

"But I should've noticed sooner. And, Jon, physical discomfort isn't just a hangup. A hangup is—no, whatever, that doesn't matter. I'm not lecturing you." Bryan sighed, and gently kicked his foot against Jon's. "Next time something… itches like that, tell me."

"S'fine. It isn't like it's life-threatening, or anything like that." He shrugged again, struggling to sort through the words in his head. "It's—the feeling is bad, sure, but the situation isn't always. Getting itchy doesn't mean the conversation we're having is."

"But you're still itchy," Bryan countered, leaning against the counter. "You know you're allowed to feel comfortable, right?"

He frowned. "I am comfortable."

"Are you?" He didn't sound judgmental, but Jon had never been good at reading tone. "Are you comfortable? Or are you just so used to the discomfort that you've forgotten what it actually feels like?"

Which—well.

"Maybe it's not my place to say anything, but you don't have to suffer," Bryan said, his voice low and gentle and warm. He didn't push any further, though. He reached into the drawer, just to the left of the register, and handed Jon an unbroken pair of readers from within. He smiled, just a little quirk of his lips, and wandered away to keep shelving.

[neonghostcat]

Checking in. 👋

It should not take me being checked on by a reader to log into to Tumblr, but when I get busy at work/with life, Tumblr becomes the first thing cut.

(Sorry about that. D: I feel particularly bad as people have been super lovely while I've been in hiatus and I'm horrified at not telling them they're lovely immediately!)

A little update on me and what I'm working on under the cut!

I actually have a (minor!) shoulder injury. I'm fine, but it's enough to put me on reduced work load, which normally would mean more writing time, but as the injury means worse sleep (+ some days where computer time is very uncomfortable), my focus is crap and it amounts to around the same in the end. More time for reading through my AO3 backlog, I guess!

Enough on that!

👻 GHOST MONTH AHEAD. 👻

And you know what that means?

My pretend-birthday awaits! Huzzah! I think I may be more excited about my pretend birthday than my real one. 😁

I'm still on track to release a chapter on August 8th! This unfortunately means I've had to set a reminder on my desktop calendar since, y'know, Thursdays are my update day, not Mondays. But it'd feel weird to update on a Monday and then skip a Thursday to wait until the Thursday next, so Mondays it is.

The story will be 4 chapters unless chapter 4 runs longer than expected and I need to split it into two parts - so that means all of Ghost Month gets a bit of LiuShen for ya!

I can't remember if this story idea sparked my thoughts on giving myself a fake birthday or if my fake birthday planning made me start working on a fic idea for it, but either way, I've been sitting on the idea for a fair while. (It's on my Tumblr WIP list as "unnamed ghost fic".)

👻 The Guardian Ghost and the Bookish Fairy 🧚‍♂️

This story has gone through about three working titles, but I'm pretty sure I'm sticking with this one.

----

Summary: LQG survives his qi deviation... in the form of a ghost. Having nothing better to do and no desire to be exorcised, he follows after SQQ and decides to haunt him for the hell of it.

It doesn't take him long to realize that not only is this not the SQQ he knew, but there is more going on. And apparently SQH is involved too? Ah! He understands now - they're immortal fairies given a grand mission to thwart a dark prophesy of the sect's collapse. Well. He can help with that. And how better than to protect the bookish fairy that's taken SQQ's place?

There are no ulterior motives. Why think such foolish things???

TL;DR: What happens if SY transmigrates a little later and the events of PIDW continue until after Ling Xi Caves?

----

You know me - I love my LQG POV, so be prepared for that. And he's an even more unreliable narrator than ever. 🙈

I have also spent far too much time researching weiqi/go just so I could write a single scene. Thankfully I realized pretty quickly that I didn't need to actually dig too deep into how the game was played to write the scene or else I'd feel even more foolish. One day I'll write a scene with weiqi/go from SY's POV so I can work in a reference to Hikaru no Go. But this day is not the day. (Even though the set-up would have been perfect for it. Alas.)

I did not do any research into Chinese ghost or fairy folklore (because I knew what I wanted for this story and knew if I researched it and something came up that contradicted what I wanted, I'd second guess myself), so I'm going to have to tag or note that I'm running with a more Western take on ghosts with the bits and pieces I've picked up over the years from Eastern folklore, especially re: "fairies". I don't want people to "Well, actually" me over it because they were expecting something different.

re: Cultivate

Still working on it! Work + injury = surprisingly more difficult to work on a long story than a short one. More moving parts to keep track of and my brain just isn't up to it.

I'm hopeful for sometime in September, but I'm not making promises. I'll know better by the time the last chapter of Ghost is posted, though.

This post is already tl;dr, so not much to say other than I'll see those of you on the 8th who drop by to read! 💖💖💖

[hartigays]

Rafebarry from the POV of outsiders like the pouges and kooks who notice their relationship develop<3

doing this one out of order bc it called to me <3 the following povs include: jj, pope, kie, topper, and sarah!

side/minor pairings are jjpope and sarahkie

fic under the cut :-)

jj

the sun is hot on jj’s forehead as he sits in the passenger’s seat of luke’s truck, idling in front of barry’s trailer.

he hates these days. it’s never been jj’s favorite activity, coming along with his dad while he buys drugs with money they should be spending on food.

not to mention, it takes for-fucking-ever. luke tends to get real chatty after his first high of the day, and barry is the type of dealer who’s always just fucked up enough to allow it.

today, however, jj’s forehead is only mildly burnt when luke exits the trailer.

actually, he’s being ushered out by barry, who looks irritated in a way that jj has never seen before. though, to be fair, the only times jj has been around him are when barry’s high or when they’re trying to mutually kick each other’s asses.

luke is grumbling to himself as he climbs into the driver’s seat, fumbling with his keys. obviously already fucked up.

jj eyes him warily, before flickering his gaze back towards the trailer. he’s only a little surprised to see rafe cameron suddenly standing in the doorway with barry, looking like they’re arguing about something.

okay, maybe jj is a lot surprised to see the scene playing out before him. because despite the seemingly heated tone of their conversation, barry has a hand resting on one of rafe’s elbows. it’s almost a tender gesture, and jj has to look away, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding on something.

barry touches rafe the way jj touches pope. and that’s… that’s a bit much to take in, to be honest. because jj sure as hell doesn’t touch pope the way friends are technically supposed to touch each other.

it’s an information overload, and he has no idea what to do with it. jj decides to file the racing thoughts away for later, when he inevitably spills his guts to pope about just exactly what he’s seen at barry’s today.

luke finally gets the truck started, pulling off of barry’s property without even noticing the moment unfolding before them.

jj takes one last look at rafe and barry, crowded in the doorway of the trailer while looking at each other like everything around them has fallen away, like it’s just the two of them left in the world.

interesting.

pope

it’s a sunday afternoon when they come in.

they’re arguing about something, barry looking thrilled by it whereas rafe just looks like he wants to smash his head through the nearest window.

“you ain’t really fished, country club,” pope hears barry saying when they’re close enough, “not til’ you caught a gator.”

pope suppresses a snort. there isn’t a soul in the OBX who’s caught a gator and didn’t come away with a chunk of themselves missing, and typically always empty-handed.

not like he’s going to tell two dickheads like barry or rafe that. if they want to go get chomped to bits by alligators, by all means.

pope is curious about the nature of their relationship, though. it’s interesting, and interesting things never cease to draw him in. (see: jj maybank).

jj had mentioned a few days ago that barry and rafe have seemed… different, recently. ever since then, pope has wondered about it. it’s a curious relationship, so he doesn’t think it’s that weird that he’s been desperately trying to understand it from all angles.

pope also just wants to know if jj is right. if barry and rafe really do have a thing going on. because like he’d told jj, he’ll believe it when he sees it.

it’s not like jj needs to know that he’s been secretly agonizing over it for absolutely no reason for the last three days.

pope stays seated quietly behind the counter, casually flipping through a magazine without really reading it, glancing up every now and then to spy on barry and rafe.

they’re standing by the bait selection, quietly conversing back and forth. pope can’t make out what they’re saying, but based on their expressions, they’re probably just talking about bait.

that is, until rafe passes barry a certain kind of bait with a questioning glance, and barry accepts it with a proud smile. rafe’s cheeks turn bright pink, and when their fingers brush as rafe passes off the bait, his face takes on a nearly scarlet hue.

so, okay, yeah. jj was definitely on the mark. it still makes absolutely no sense, whatsoever, but at the same time, they seem to operate in sync. it’s almost natural, whatever flows between them.

pope watches them walk up to the counter, feigning wariness to hide his curiosity, internally noting that he has a lot of homework to do later.

kie

the wreck is unusually slow tonight. it’s a thursday evening, and usually more patrons show up, pre-gaming their friday night bash with a thursday kickoff.

there are only three families and a few scattered couples seated here and there.

that is, until they walk in.

kie can’t really say that she hasn’t been expecting this. she wishes she could say that, to be quite honest, but jj and pope have made it their personal mission to torment her with information about barry and rafe that she truly never needed or wanted to know.

not that they’re more than likely gay as hell - kiara doesn’t care about that. she’d be a bit of a hypocrite if she did, if she’s being honest. it’s the fact that they’re rafe and barry.

two people who’s fates the cosmos should never have aligned. if what pope and jj say is true, anyway.

somehow, kie hasn’t come up with any reason to doubt it. rafe is crazy, barry is pure chaos in physical form. she imagines they’re like a nuclear bomb waiting to go off, but she also sees how it works.

kie really, really hates that she can see how it works.

there’s another waitress working tonight, and she’s the one to seat the couple. or pair. or whatever they are. kie can’t remember her name - she’s only here for the summer, anyway. nevertheless, she has the inexplicable desire to drag the poor girl away when she attempts to flirt with rafe.

not only because rafe is liable to stab her in a parking lot or something, but also because rafe and barry are clearly on some sort of date.

she doesn’t know why, but after the waitress finally walks away, kiara keeps waiting on bated breath for more people to show up and join rafe and barry’s party. despite the fact that they’ve been seated at a table for two.

no one else shows up.

they spend the evening conversing quietly back and forth, their voices occasionally raising when they get into a little spat about something.

which happens about every ten seconds, if kie has been accurately keeping track.

not that she’s watching them, necessarily. it’s just a bit of a shock, seeing what jj and pope have been telling her for days play out right in front of her, in real time.

they don’t operate like the other couples in the restaurant, that’s for sure. or any sort of couple kie has ever seen before in her entire life. but pope was right, whatever flows between them is freakishly natural.

and that’s why kiara can’t stop watching. she can’t stop honing in on every movement - the way they steadily shift closer throughout the evening, first putting their elbows on the quaint table, scooting them closer and closer until they’re nearly touching, leaning into each other like they’re being pulled together by some magnetic force, unable to stay apart.

it’s like when kie knocks on sarah’s window and watches her come close, pressing into the glass as if she’s being sucked in by some invisible force, the same one that drives sarah across the room towards her, pulling her into her orbit.

kiara shakes her head, trying to shake off the thoughts. she really doesn’t need to be going around equating her relationship with sarah with whatever the fuck is going on between rafe and barry.

whatever it is, though, kie can’t help but note that it’s something light rather than dark. something almost like happiness - something she never actually thought rafe was capable of feeling.

but with the way rafe is looking at barry, their hands now linked together beneath the table where they think no one else can see, kie is starting to rethink just about everything she knows about rafe cameron.

well, maybe not everything. but some things. enough that her head will be full for the foreseeable future. all because of barry and rafe fucking cameron of all people.

what the fuck.

topper

“you’ve been gone for like, weeks, dude,” topper says, eyeing rafe from across the table.

they’re at the figure eight country club, having drinks (on topper, of course) and a light lunch. it’d been topper’s idea. rafe had merely reluctantly agreed, claiming he had nothing else going on today.

he’d sounded almost like he was pouting about something. now that he’s seated across from topper, he can clearly see that rafe is definitely pouting about something.

which isn’t unusual, per se. but it is unusual that rafe isn’t bitching about whatever it is.

to be fair, rafe has been different these days. topper doesn’t really know what’s going on with him at all, their lives having suddenly and unexpectedly diverged for reasons topper still doesn’t understand.

it’s not like rafe was his best friend or anything - the guy’s a dick more often than not. but they had been friends at least, and confided in one another from time to time. guy to guy.

topper still wonders what happened, to this day. he doesn’t think rafe will ever tell him, though. not fully. and that’s okay, topper isn’t, like, desperately interested or anything, but a bit of an explanation would be nice. even a half-assed one.

“i’ve had shit going on,” rafe finally answers, as vague as can be.

topper rolls his eyes. “obviously. come on, man. i just want to know what’s been up with you lately.”

“you mean you want to know what’s been up with sarah,” rafe corrects, taking a long sip of his beer.

and okay, yeah, maybe topper’s desire to get back in touch with rafe has a little something to do with wanting to know what sarah’s been up to. but he does want to know whats been going on with rafe, too. that wasn’t a lie. he’d just omitted some details, sue him.

“yeah, okay,” topper agrees, not bothering with lying. “but i’ve also been wondering about you, man. you just kinda. disappeared.”

rafe picks at his burger, before pushing it away with a sigh. “shit happens, top.”

it’s so far from an explanation that topper kind of wants to throttle him all of a sudden, but rafe doesn’t give him the chance. his phone starts ringing, and he pulls it out with a triumphant smile, like he’s just won something.

something he’s definitely very, very smug about.

topper thinks he hears something along the lines of ‘m fuckin’ outside you little shithead brat coming from the person on the other end of the line.

rafe just smiles wider, putting on an innocent look even though whoever he’s talking to can’t see him. “coming!”

listen. listen. rafe fucking sing-songs it. topper feels like he’s been punched directly in the solar plexus. his mind reels.

topper is nowhere close to catching up, but rafe is already standing up and excusing himself, saying he has somewhere to be and thanking topper for the lunch half-heartedly, not contributing anything towards the bill.

typical rafe.

topper latches onto that familiarity to get his brain working again, shoving himself back from the table and racing out of the club, tossing a few too many bills on the table as he runs out. he practically chases rafe down, tumbling out the front doors as rafe is crossing the parking lot.

rafe comes to a stop next to some guy on a motorcycle, and neither of them have seen topper yet, clearly. because in the next moment rafe is pulling off the guy’s helmet and kissing barry the fucking coke dealer right on the mouth, tongue and all.

topper almost blacks out on the steps.

instead, he steadies himself on the railing of the staircase, shouting across the parking lot, “what the fuck, rafe?”

the reaction topper gets is not the one he was expecting. rafe just grins like a shark, then climbs on the back of barry’s bike. he wraps his arms around barry’s waist, then he taps barry twice, and they’re speeding out of the parking lot.

“we are so fucking talking about this!” topper yells after them, his head still spinning.

the roar of the motorcycle drowns out the noise.

sarah

she isn’t sure what wakes her up at first.

for a moment, sarah thinks kie is at her window. she frowns in confusion, still half-asleep, wondering why kie would be here without texting or calling first.

they always text or call first.

when sarah sits up and looks over at her window, there’s nothing there. but she knows she heard something, something that roused her from her peaceful slumber.

there it is again. it sounds like a squeaking noise, like an old window or a screen door opening. a moment later, quiet voices, drifting through the vent in her bedroom.

sarah wonders if it’s ward, if he’s having some secret meeting that would be truly invaluable to overhear.

she scrambles out of bed, tip-toeing to her air vent and sinking down to her knees. she leans closer, then closer still. all she can here are soft voices - she can’t make out any words. whatever the conversation is about, it’s interspersed with giggles and gasps.

oh. oh my god. ward is cheating, he has to be. and wouldn’t that be such sweet justice? catching ward in the act of something he can’t deny? something that could potentially keep rose from continuing to feed his endless greed?

sarah stands up and races across her room as quietly as she can, poking her head out the door and looking around before creeping into the hallway. she quietly makes her way to ward’s office, stopping just outside and leaning close to listen.

silence.

if they’re done already, that’s pretty pathetic on ward’s part, sarah thinks. but then she hears it again, the soft cacophony of sounds, only louder this time.

sarah follows the noise, her curiosity getting to the better of her. it leads her straight to rafe’s bedroom.

she really should’ve known better than to open the door.

“oh my god! oh my god? oh my god.” sarah slaps her hands over her eyes, already trying to scrub the image of barry on top of her brother from her mind.

she just walked in on rafe. having sex. with barry.

sarah feels a little faint.

“jesus christ, sarah, would you get the fuck out?” sarah hears rafe snap, and she fumbles for the doorknob, slamming the door shut quickly.

she backs away in horror, practically bolting back to her room and flinging herself onto her bed. sarah grabs her phone, firing off a few texts to the group chat.

sarah: SOS!!! walked in on barry and rafe…

sarah: oh god

sarah: i can’t even say it

jj: were they? y’know

jj: like

jj: brokeback mountain style or

pope: jesus christ jj

pope: that’s disgusting

pope: ………

pope: but for real though were they?

john b: i’d also like to know

kie: you know what count me in too

sarah: oh my god.

sarah: i hate all of you.

sarah has the most useless friends on the planet, and the drug dealer is fucking her brother. frankly, she’s had enough for one night.

sarah tosses her phone onto the floor and puts a pillow over her face, drifting back into her blissful state of unconsciousness. she’s not awake to hear rafe and barry start up again.

thank fucking god for small mercies.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.

That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.

Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.

In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.

The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.

He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.

And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.

He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.

For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.

A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.

Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.

The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.

Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.

They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.

“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”

Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.

“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.

“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.

“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.

“Can I hear you, baby boy?”

He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.

He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.

“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.

“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.

Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.

So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.

It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.

As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.

So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.

He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.

He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.

Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.  

In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.

“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”

Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.

“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”

He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.  

“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”

“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”

“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.

“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”

“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.

“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.

“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.

“Good boy.”

“You know I am.”

“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”

MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game.  They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.

Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.  

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”

That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that?  The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?

He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.

That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–

Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing –  he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.

It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.

But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.

Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.

He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.

He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.

Well, none except for one.

“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.

“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.

“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”

He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.

“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”

Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:

“I need to see you.”

Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–

“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.

Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!

Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.

Right?

“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”

Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.

Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.

But.

Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.

“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”

That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.

Right?

“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.

“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–  

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”

Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.

Some other times, it felt good to forget.

[hobiwonder]

mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”. 

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’ 

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important. 

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store. 

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it. 

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

 “Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You:  Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating. 

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant. 

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it. 

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his  study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel. 

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment. 

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches. 

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way. 

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs. 

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him. 

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult. 

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more. 

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.” 

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment. 

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again. 

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy. 

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire. 

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal. 

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?” 

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly. 

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own. 

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes. 

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it. 

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off. 

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you. 

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain. 

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides. 

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture. 

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?” 

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard.  Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans.   Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well. 

“N-No?” 

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.” 

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold. 

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome,  glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to.  He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely. 

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.” 

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this. 

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him. 

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too. 

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars. 

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.” 

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him. 

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you  let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don���t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now. 

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours. 

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.” 

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release.  Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it. 

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing. 

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

[bbugyu]

hi! could i request a jeonghan enemies (or friends that bicker a lot) to lovers? ty and i love ur writing !!

i am so glad you requested this because i have had this in the works for so long that i had to throw it into a case converter because it had capitalization and i was Not gonna finish it if i had to type it proper (i'm a fucking gremlin ok)

thank u for reading my work and thank u for giving me the perfect excuse to be hopelessly in love with jeonghan!!!!

falling + yoon jeonghan

finally, he thought. someone on his level. what’s the catch?

part one | part two

wc.10009 (fuckin oops) | fluff, humor, uni/coffeeshop/enemies to lovers au, gender neutral reader, slow burn, drinking, like lk too much drinking, swearing, throwing it back to sistar, copious argumentive flirting, everyone is MEAN but like in a funny way, bff!mingyu, it's your resident mingyuzi shipper, the only person more of a little shit than jeonghan is y/n

i used to be a barista and i would get exceptionally hateful towards customers for really stupid reasons and the only thing that could stop it is if they were really hot. this seems to hold great jeonghan energy. also i made y/n, like, mean as hell. like not actually mean but like. Mean. sorry. also all bars mentioned are real bars on capital hill in seattle that i love so if you recognize them that’s why. enjoy this enemies to lovers courtship.

*

you were pretentious, jeonghan thought. you acted like you were better than everyone else, and he hated that he had yet to find a reason to call you wrong.

he saw you almost every day during the week, between the class you shared on tuesdays and thursdays, and the cafe he worked in that you frequented to study. your demeanor was always polite, but what most people would describe as cold. you had caught his attention the first day of the semester, something about you seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it until he made your coffee the next day. you usually sat in the row in front of him, a few seats over, and he would chew on his cheek and wonder how you could sit back in your chair, arms crossed and eyes hardly opened, but still get the highest essay scores in the class. at the end of lecture, after he was done spending all his brain power stewing about your ability to succeed in visual culture without really trying, he would text his friend that took the class last quarter and ask, panic stricken, if he still had his notes, the irony of the situation completely lost on him.

at the cafe, you would come in, order an americano, and sit yourself in a well lit corner to work on your classes for a few hours, the coffee mostly undisturbed on the table beside your favorite armchair, then leave. there was never a smile on your face, and you were always alone. jeonghan watched the ice in your americano melt, watering down the coffee he made. maybe he had let the shots of espresso sit too long before saving them. maybe he let them burn on purpose just to see the face you made. but alas, you hadn't even put the metal straw to your lips. he wondered why you even ordered a coffee if you weren’t going to reap the benefit.

joshua spotted him leaning against the counter as he came out of the kitchen and laughed, setting down the freshly washed milk pitchers. “ask them out.”

he stood up straight. “why?”

“why not? you clearly like them.”

“i really don’t,” jeonghan laughed. “you’re crazy for thinking i do.”

joshua rolled his eyes. “no one spends as much time as you do staring at another person if they don’t find them at least a little attractive. have you ever even talked to them? outside of taking their order?”

he hesitated. “no?”

“so what if they’re actually really wonderful and you have a lot in common?”

“as if.”

“wow,” joshua said, leaning against the counter. “i can’t believe yoon jeonghan is afraid to talk to his crush.”

jeonghan shoved his friend's shoulder, giving him a look. “absolutely not. i'm 99% sure they're a pretentious asshole.”

he crossed his arms. “what does that make you?”

“shut up.”

“whatever, han. i’m just saying it’s kind of pretentious to hate someone solely because they don’t smile wide enough for you when they’re saying thanks.”

“it’s not that hard!” jeonghan said, maybe a little too loud. “i don’t wanna smile either, shua! but i do it! so can they!!”

joshua laughed. “lower your voice and go say hi, you freak.”

much to his chagrin, jeonghan got shoved towards your spot in the cafe with the front of the tables needing to get wiped down. he looked at joshua and seokmin with a furrowed brow as he wrung the towel, both of them giving him thumbs ups with wide grins. begrudgingly, he slowly made his way over to you.

“hey,” jeonghan said, doing his best to project something other than the absolute turmoil going on inside his head. you looked up from your textbook, pulling the earbud out of your ear. “why don’t you drink the coffee?”

you furrowed your brow and looked at your untouched americano. “i- uh, what?”

“you never drink the coffee,” he repeated, nodding at the glass. “why do you get it anyways?”

you blinked up at him. “are you offended that i’m not drinking your coffee?”

he almost laughed at the look of disbelief you were giving him. “no, i just don’t get why you waste the money here if you don’t even need the caffeine.”

“it’s cheaper to buy an americano than it is to rent a stall at a study cafe,” you said, habitually hitting save on your notes document. “why are you so worried about me, yoon jeonghan?”

he faltered, surprised. “you know me?”

“nametag,” you didn't miss a beat, pointing at his chest and giggling. “do you know me?”

jeonghan’s lip twitched, feeling almost embarrassed by not thinking of his own nametag, and definitely not an involuntary reaction to seeing you smile for the first time. “uh, yeah. we have a class together,” he said as casually as possible as he folded the washcloth in his hands. “visual culture.”

you nodded, looking into space for a moment. “hmm. weren’t you also in child psych with professor moon last winter?”

he blinked back at you. “yeah? you were in that class?”

you nodded, holding in a laugh. “yeah, yoon jeonghan. i was. head in the clouds?”

for some reason, the way you said his full name made his ears heat up. “maybe you were easy to forget,” he said dismissively, even though you both knew that wasn't the case. “isn’t it better to study in a library? that one’s free.”

“there’s never any open tables at the library,” you said, unfurling your legs and sitting straight, textbook in your lap. “and the chairs are uncomfortable, unlike this armchair. and people usually don’t bother me here.”

jeonghan sighed. “well, if you’re insistent on going to a cafe, there’s one down the street with a better espresso bean and it’s less busy. less people to bother you and a better tasting americano that you won’t drink.”

you cocked your head, closing your laptop. “is that an invitation?”

and for the first time, you saw jeonghan stutter. “n-no? just a suggestion. i think it’s cheaper, too-”

“don’t you work here?” you asked, eyes shining. “shouldn’t you be happy i’m wasting my money here?”

he eyed you, beginning to turn his body to leave the conversation. “do whatever you want. i’m not your dad.”

you grinned, leaning forward in your chair. “are you busy after class tomorrow?”

“why?”

“i need you to show me where this cafe is.”

jeonghan sighed. “can’t you just look it up? cafe nomu.” he wrote the characters with his finger in the air. “no-mu. use naver.”

“i get lost easily,” you said, standing up. jeonghan wondered if you were telling the truth. “we can go together?”

jeonghan watched you pack up your things, confused. “why?”

you paused, looking at him. “why not?”

he was getting real sick of people asking him why not.

“did i drive you away?” he asked instead, nodding at your now packed bag.

“no, i was headed out soon anyways.” you swung the bag over your shoulder and picked up the untouched americano. “do you want this?”

jeonghan couldn’t help but scoff as you handed him the glass that had been the subject of his staring all afternoon. “you can't be serious.”

you grinned and patted his shoulder. “i’m y/n, by the way. i’ll see you in class?”

he squinted at you as you walked away, suddenly confused by the quick succession of questions you had thrown back and forth. you were cute, sure, and his distaste for you was misplaced, perhaps, but he couldn't help the annoyance that bubbled up in him as you sauntered out of the cafe like you had won a debate. he walked back to the counter and set down the americano, an excited seokmin waiting for him.

“so?” he grabbed the glass and dumped it in the sink behind the counter. “how’d it go?”

jeonghan looked at the door you had left out of. “i think i just got asked out.”

“what?” seokmin’s hands made fists in front of him while he grinned. “y/n did? are you serious? you said yes, right?”

“not really,” he replied, looking back at the younger and exhaling deeply. “but i don’t think i can avoid it.”

you had known of yoon jeonghan for a while. a class here and there, a few mutual friends, and of course at the cafe. but the night you learned his name really stuck out to you, when he had been singing at a karaoke bar right after finals last quarter.

it was common to celebrate the end of finals week with partying and drinking, and your friends had invited you out to barhop until the sun came up. you started at a dance club, had way too much rum at a hula themed place, took tequila shots at a gay bar, then landed at a karaoke bar with a can of beer in your fist and a grin on your face. your friends liked to sing, so you had fun encouraging them to get on the slightly raised stage and show their chops. 

“no, no, no,” mingyu said, grabbing your hands as you tried to push him towards the dj. “no way, i recognize the names on the list. there’s real singers here.”

you looked at the screen that displayed the queue. “what do you mean? who?”

“that guy,” mingyu said, pointing at the screen easily, despite you having to crane your neck to even view it. “no way. he’s in jihoon’s band, i’m not following that guy.”

“hangguk’s angel yoon jeonghan,” you read, squinting. “sounds like a pretentious asshole.”

mingyu laughed. “wait til you hear his voice, you’ll see how he got the name.”

"y/n's right," jun interjected, leaning heavily against the standing table your quad squad had claimed, pouring more soju for himself and whoever would claim the other glass. "he is a pretentious asshole."

you pointed at him, brows raised at mingyu. "jun is never wrong."

mingyu rolled his eyes. "pretentious assholes can still sound like angels."

“where the fuck have you been,” you asked, startled by your third and final friend suddenly appearing beside you.

“around,” vernon said, sipping at the nondescript brown liquid in his glass through a bright pink straw. he laughed when you quirked an eyebrow at him. “soonyoung’s here with his posse, he caught me while i was getting another drink.”

“see!” mingyu shook your shoulder, nearly choking after downing jun’s companion shot. “i told you! jihoon’s band.”

you whacked his bicep. “who cares? just go queue a rap song or something, you pussy.”

the singers cycled through and you cheered on many of your fellow drunk university students as they sang with no remorse. jun dragged you onto the tiny dancefloor and forced you to help him hype up soonyoung - his dance team captain - as he screamed along to hurricane. then one of vernon's friends performed a near flawless rendition of shake it by sistar after yelling something about bringing the summer to this cold winter night, earning him a cheering and dancing crowd, and you had known far more of the choreo than you had thought. mingyu was whooping and hollering at you playfully every time you threw your ass out to the song, and he only got louder when jun and vernon did their best to follow along with you, and you had almost forgotten about the name that everyone insisted was to be feared.

“that guy?” you asked, the self-proclaimed angel stepping onto the stage. you recognized him immediately. “that’s my barista.”

mingyu made a noise that almost resembled whistling, if he had been capable of doing so. “i should start studying with you next quarter.”

and when he sang, it clicked. despite the tonal difference, you couldn't help but become enthralled by his voice. gyu was right. pretentious assholes could still sound like angels, and perhaps that was by design.

his voice drifted through your head again when you noticed him in your visual culture class, seated and giggling at his phone on the first day of the quarter. 

"you have another class with him?" mingyu groaned a week later, walking beside you. "why you? why aren’t there hot guys in my major?"

"because pre-med kids are too busy to be hot."

he gave you a look. "damn, okay. like, you're not wrong, but damn."

you rolled your eyes. "don't act like you don't love being the pre-med heartthrob. you would be pissed if you had competition."

"anyways, are you gonna ask him out?"

you pause at the stop light to wait for your turn to cross, turning towards him. "why would i do that?"

“because he’s hangguk’s angel yoon jeong-honey voice,” mingyu said, moving his head as he dramatically pronounced each syllable in your face. “if you’re not already in love with him, you will be soon, and it sounds like fate's trying to bring you together. didn’t you say he’s your barista?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, and his americanos suck now. i don’t even drink it when he makes them anymore.”

he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. “what the hell? why do you still go there, then?”

you pouted. “it’s quiet and there’s a comfy armchair.”

weeks passed, and you continued to spot jeonghan in your class when you arrived, hearing the faint sound of his singing voice in your head. when he took your order at the cafe, he had a vague snottiness to his voice, and while you absolutely believed that this was the same person as the one you saw sing a soft love ballad with a sobering intensity at two in the morning, you still struggled to connect it to the one you watched run off the stage, immediately curling into himself and laughing with his friends in embarrassment.

you became more and more fascinated by yoon jeonghan as time passed, but his americanos continued to suck. so when he suggested a cafe with better espresso, you lit up. and when he got flustered, letting down his guard unintentionally, you lit up even more. that was the drunk, embarrassed boy you had seen, pink faced and giggling as he hid behind his friends.

jeonghan sat in his usual seat in class, anxiously glancing up at the door every time a group of people entered the lecture hall. when you arrived, your usual minute before the turn of the hour, he rubbed his palms against his sweats. the sweats that he had worn with the specific intention of making sure you didn't think he was trying too hard to look nice around you. despite that fact, part of him still felt annoyed that you were also dressed down, swimming in a hoodie several sizes too big for you. he tried to make sense of the sudden nerves he had, but not once did he consider they were because he thought you were disgustingly adorable.

instead of taking your usual spot, you marched right up to jeonghan’s table and grinned. “is this seat taken?”

he blinked at you. “yes.”

you laughed and slid into the seat beside him anyways, ignoring the dagger stare from a girl across the room that usually sat beside jeonghan silently. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“how do you expect me to react? you’ve never even smiled at me before yesterday.”

shrugging, you put your bag on the table and leaned back in your seat, assuming your usual position for this particular class. “you didn’t deserve it before yesterday.”

jeonghan wanted to argue with you, but the professor cleared his throat and introduced the subject of the lecture.

after only ten minutes, jeonghan could have sworn he heard you snoring. he poked your shoulder with his pen.

you looked over at him, eyebrow quirked. you mouthed a “what” at him.

he exhaled suddenly, mouth forming a vague smile more in disbelief than from being entertained. he seemed annoyed with you, despite the fact that he was the one interrupting your allocated meditation time. he leaned forward, turning his body towards you and spoke in a hushed tone. “how can you do that every day and still be top of the class?”

you mirrored his body language, leaning forward over the desk and resting your cheek on a fist, speaking in the same hushed tone. “visual culture is subjective. as long as you understand the concept; i-e, how we as humans visually design the world around us and how that becomes an important aspect of our place in nature, in the universe, in existence, etcetera; then you can write about literally anything. my last essay was about skate parks. the more opinionated the essay, the better score you get.” you pointed a finger at the man speaking at the front of the class. “i watched the prof’s ted talk before the quarter started - every lecture is just a regurgitation of the same concepts. it’s an easy a, as long as you have strong opinions.”

jeonghan stared at you for what felt like an eternity. “you do seem like you have strong opinions.”

“and you don’t, yoon jeonghan?”

he supposed he couldn’t argue with that, but it still frustrated him to no end that you had found some kind of loophole that he had missed. you gamed the system better than he could, and he had been stuck pouring over his friend’s notes from the previous quarter and bullshitting some essays about architecture that he didn't give a shit about. and so, instead of spending his whole class stewing like he normally did, he decided to waste no time adopting your approach, pulling his sweatshirt hood over his head and catching up on some missed sleep. when he woke up again, it was to your prodding finger.

“what time is it,” he said immediately, squinting at his surroundings. he suddenly remembered he was in class as he saw fellow students packing up their things and filing out. he looked at you, blinking at your grinning face.

“time for coffee,” you said, tugging on the drawstrings of the light blue hoodie he wore. “did you have any sweet dreams?”

jeonghan shoved his blank notebook into the tote bag he used for classes and stood. “of course not.”

“i did,” you said, throwing your bag over your shoulder and following him down the hall steps. “i dreamt you paid at the cafe.”

he turned, eyeing your shiteating grin from behind his hood. “yeah, keep dreaming.”

“worth a shot,” you said, trotting down beside him. “so, what’s your major, yoon jeonghan?”

he rolled his eyes, almost forgetting about your habit of calling him by his full name. “do you really care?”

“what else are we gonna talk about, my drinking problem?”

despite himself, jeonghan laughed, looking over at you as you left the lecture hall. “maybe! how bad is it?”

you grinned, feeling successful from making him break his serious persona. “wouldn’t you like to know.”

he clicked his tongue, pushing open the doors of the social studies building. “no fun.”

“you’ll have to invite me to a bar next time,” you said, following after him out the door into the sunshine that cascaded over the quad. it was a beautiful spring day, but a bit chilly, and you shoved your hands into your sweatshirt pocket.

“hmm,” jeonghan said, letting his blue hood fall off his head as he stretched in the sun. “i only really go to one bar.”

you watched him bask for a moment, wondering how many sides of him you had yet to see. his hair was dark, but the lighter chocolate tones reflected in the sun. “bet i can guess which one.”

jeonghan paused on the sidewalk, making you walk ahead of him a couple steps before you turned towards him questioningly. “okay, yeah. guess. you won’t get it.”

you size him up a moment, taking his words as a challenge. “if i guess right, you buy coffee?”

he exhaled, an amused smile on his face. “why are you so obsessed with me buying you coffee?”

“it tastes better free.”

“okay, fine. but if you’re wrong, you buy.”

you groaned. “do you know how many bars are in this city? that doesn’t seem fair.”

jeonghan resumed walking, gesturing for you to guess. “i’ll give you three tries.”

you chewed your cheek, trying to conceal your sly grin. “okay, three tries. deal?”

he nodded. you made it way too easy for him to win. “deal.”

“let me think.” jeonghan watched your feet fall easily into step beside him. “what bar has a stupid gimmick you would be into... pie bar?”

he shook his head, almost laughing at your teasing. “i’ve been there before, but it's not really my thing.”

you exhaled sharply. “shouldn’t that count for a stick of gum or something?” jeonghan laughed, insisting that this was an all or nothing situation. “then i give up.”

“you can’t give up!” jeonghan said. “you said deal. no going back.”

“fine," you pouted. "why can't i remember any bar names? uhh, r place?”

he stopped. “the gay club?”

you stopped, looking at him expectantly. “well?”

jeonghan laughed as he walked again. “no, not r place. jesus. you have one last chance. i’m really excited to order something expensive today.”

you chewed your cheek. “where would someone like yoon jeonghan go to drink… hanguk’s angel yoon jeonghan…”

he stopped in his tracks. “what did you just say?”

you tapped on your chin with a finger, arms crossed. “yoon jeong-honey voice… where would someone like him go? maybe… a karaoke bar?”

“hey, hey-” jeonghan pointed at you accusingly. “are you serious? you’ve seen me?”

“hmm,” you continued, laughing as you avoided his gaze. “oh, i know! the rockbox!”

“yah!” jeonghan was laughing, pointing at you in disbelief. “what the hell! this isn’t fair!”

“you said deal, no going back.” you grinned in victory. “wow, maybe i’ll order something expensive. i can’t believe i won.”

jeonghan’s tongue ran over his teeth as he watched you giggle and happily trot ahead of him. “fine, fine. you win. when did you see me there?”

“after winter finals,” you said, cheesing. “i was there with friends and you sang.”

he tutted. “damn. did i just miss you or did you not sing?”

“i don’t sing,” you said, smiling as he continued walking with you. “my friends do, though. and i was forced to be in soonyoung’s hype squad for hurricane.”

jeonghan clapped suddenly, remembering in his perhaps too drunk stupor that seungcheol had pointed you out, calling you “the cutie that keeps looking at him.” he had, admittedly, checked you out, despite the fact that he had been too embarrassed by his too-serious song to go and talk to you, and he had thought you looked familiar. “oh my god! yes! i did see you! how do you know soonyoung?”

“mutual friends,” you said. “chwe hansol?

he nodded. “we’ve met once, i think. were you there with junhui?”

“yeah, actually,” you said, remembering the opinion of jeonghan your friend had volunteered up for you. “how do you know him?”

“i haven’t talked to him a lot directly, but i know both his roommates pretty well,” jeonghan said. "we do music together.”

“ah, yes,” you nodded in recollection, but refusing to acknowledge how insanely pretentious it was of him to say something like we do music together. “jihoon’s unnamed but immensely prolific band.”

he rolled his eyes. “why is it jihoon’s band? why can’t it be jeonghan’s band?”

“don’t ask me,” you said, putting up hands in innocence. “i didn’t even know it existed until that night. mingyu wouldn’t shut up about it.”

the name sounded familiar to jeonghan, but he moved on as the two of you reached a stop light. “do you go there a lot? or was that a one time thing?”

you eyed him. “this is starting to sound like an invitation, hannie.”

he didn’t comment on the nickname, despite the weird way his arms tingled at it. “you should learn what an invitation actually sounds like. you tend to assume a lot.”

you laughed heartily, and jeonghan ignored the way his stomach flitted while you started to cross the street. “call it wishful thinking, but i think i get you, yoon jeonghan.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

you never answered his question, but grinned instead, which gave jeonghan a sense of unease and a touch of curiosity. as he led you to cafe nomu, he caught himself smiling. laughing. enjoying your company and conversation.

maybe shua hadn’t been completely off base.

by the time jeonghan had realized that his feelings towards you might have evolved from vague malice into something more akin to genuine interest, he was pushing open the door to the cafe for you and mentally double checking that he had put on deodorant that morning, cursing his inability to control his own nerves. ah, he thought. that explained the weird feeling he got waiting for you in class, too. and why he got flustered the day before at his work. he only snapped out of his crowded mind when he heard you ordering an iced americano.

“and for you?”

jeonghan blinked at you, then at the barista that was addressing him. “make that two.”

“thank you for the coffee,” you said, pressing your hands together as he inserted his card.

he waved you off, chuckling, but kept his eyes as far from yours as he could. “a deal is a deal.”

you looked around the quiet cafe, quickly scoping out the seat options as jeonghan accepted the buzzer for your order. he thought it was a little silly, considering the two of you were half of the customers in the cafe currently, but said nothing as he turned it over in his fingers, standing next to you.

“there?” you asked, pointing at a table by a window.

jeonghan bit his cheek, thinking about how joshua would likely be walking down this street to go to his shift, if he had one. “yeah, wherever.”

you were already on your way to the seat when he responded, and he followed, dropping his bag off his shoulder to hang on the hook under the table.

“i thought you were going to get something expensive,” he teased, sitting across from you.

laughing lightly, you pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and set it on the table. “you said the espresso was good, i wanted to try it.”

“don’t you not like coffee?” jeonghan asked, squinting at you.

“i love coffee,” you said, quirking an eyebrow.

“then why don’t you drink the americanos i make?”

he was leaning forward, staring at you, fingers folding over each other on the table. you pouted, avoiding his eyes suddenly. “no reason.”

leaning back again, he kept a wary eye on you. “that’s convincing.”

“good, it’s the truth.”

jeonghan decided to put a pin in that interrogation in favor of asking you your major.

you laughed again, making a small smile appear on his face. "communications," you answered, despite thinking of how he denied the same question from you earlier.

he let out a low "wah" and cocked his head. "what's up with that? same major."

"really?" you leaned over the table. "what year are you?"

"third."

you put a peace sign next to your eye like you were posing for a photo. "second."

you couldn't help but giggle at the "pfft" that spilled out of jeonghan's lips as he laughed at you, muttering a "really" under his breath at your pose. he was running a hand through his extremely soft and fluffy looking hair when the buzzer went off, and you blinked yourself awake from your trance to nod after he said he would go get the drinks. 

admitting to it was the last thing you wanted, but you couldn’t help but hear mingyu’s voice rattling around your head, telling you that you would fall for jeonghan eventually. you had once thought he was completely up his own ass, but you kept getting glimpses of this really cute, really sweet version of him, and it made you want to get to know him better. additionally, it was getting harder to find people that would happily play along with your teasing, and he had no qualms teasing you right back.

when he returned with the americanos, you pressed your hands together in another thank you before taking a sip. he slid back into his seat and looked at you expectantly. "well? what do you think?"

you paused a moment, appraising the flavor. "delicious. thank you."

after he sipped at his own, he nodded. "the beans here are really good. balanced. i wish i could convince my boss to source better stuff."

you watched him sip again, letting out a praise under his breath. you sighed. "i have a confession."

his eyebrows quirked at you, and he did his best to not show the way his stomach flipped. "what kind?"

"i don't drink your americanos because they're shit."

there was silence as he processed your words, and you wondered if you had royally fucked up by saying something. suddenly, he was laughing, and you stared at him in shock as he calmed down. "oh my god, yeah, they are."

"wait, you know?"

"i-" jeonghan paused, rubbing his face, still laughing. "god, this is so stupid. i burn your shots."

your jaw dropped open, but a smile creeped across your face as you understood. "wait, on purpose?"

"you never smile!" he attempted to explain himself with a bit too much enthusiasm, finding his own pettiness ridiculous in hindsight. "not even when i smiled at you. i had a grudge. i'm sorry."

you were sipping your non-burnt americano with a sly look on your face. you wanted to be mad at the wasted money on countless gross americanos, but somehow, you couldn't be. "do you hold grudges against everyone or am i just lucky?"

"uh, depends," jeonghan said, crossing his arms and thinking. "when the prof that failed my roommate comes in, i burn his shots, too. i think he might like it that way, though, because he's always really nice to me."

you almost snorted. "well, you owe me a lot of coffee."

he nodded and sighed, resigning to his fate. "when you come in, your coffee's on me. and i won't burn it this time."

you pouted a second, and jeonghan barely caught it, but he thought the expression was far too cute. "i was hoping you would invite me out again."

"again?" he asked, letting a few 'ha's fall from his lips in quick succession. "you mean for the first time?"

you gestured to the cafe you sat in. "was this not your idea?"

he rolled his eyes. "you invited yourself out and held me hostage."

"does that mean you have stockholms?"

he laughed at the diagnosis, remembering the class you claimed you had both taken the year before. "you're a very charming captor."

you smiled at the compliment, despite the sinister implication.

the next time you saw jeonghan, it was saturday. you had rolled out of bed far earlier than you had intended to when you had fallen asleep at 4 am after a very drunk and extremely conflict heavy game of uno with the guys. you winced at the sunlight streaming through your shitty dorm blinds, fumbling your way to the water dispenser on your desk to rehydrate.

you stared at your roommate's empty bed, remembering they had said they worked early shifts this weekend as you brushed your teeth, and you wondered how they had dealt with you stumbling into the dorm in the wee hours of the day.

you almost gagged on your toothbrush. an empty room on a saturday morning with too little sleep and a nasty hangover, you thought. bad decisions could never be made under these circumstances.

"does jeonghan's cafe do breakfast sandwiches?" you thought aloud with a mouth full of toothpaste, leaning over the sink to spit. you kind of remembered seeing them on the menu, though you never thought to get anything beyond the occasional muffin. maybe today was the day.

after washing your face and cleaning up your hair a bit, you had to dig in your clothes to find your favorite pair of black sweats and a shirt to tuck in. you last minute decided to bring your good headphones, just in case hanguk's angel wasn't there to bug, and ran out the door with your wallet and phone, a pair of sunglasses shoved onto your face.

the walk to his cafe is short from the dorms you lived in, which was another reason you liked it there. it was warmer than it had been during the week, and you watched a big muscular dog running alongside its owner. before long, you were tugging open the door, seeing no line. you grinned at how lucky you were as you pulled your headphones down to your neck.

"yoon jeonghan! you are working!"

he seemed startled by your voice, his shoulders raising slightly as he turned towards the door. "oh, what the hell? what are you doing here at 9:30 on a saturday?"

you pouted, walking up to the counter and tugging off your sunglasses. "are you not happy to see me?"

his laugh was genuine and completely out of his control. "sure i am. nice eyebags."

that, you noted, was the first time jeonghan had ever greeted you with a smile, and it seemed appropriate that it was paired with an insult. "thanks, i'm violently hungover right now." you said, noticing your best friend's roommate standing further back behind the counter, pretty obviously pretending to not be listening to you.

"do you wanna redeem a free americano?" he asked, poking at the touchscreen register.

you hummed, crossing your arms and staring at the menu board. "not today, i wanna try a latte. something tasty, and something for breakfast. what do you think?"

jeonghan stared at you, and you stared back, a small smile on your face. he blinked. "have you ever tried lavender?"

"lavender?" you shook your head, genuinely surprised. "is that a good flavor?"

he nodded, looking down at the screen and adding items to your order. "we have this seasonal syrup that we make in house," he said. "it's my favorite one of the year. honey, lavender, and vanilla bean. big one?"

you blinked at the cup sizes, trying to remember how many bottles of soju you had bought the night before, and subsequently how much money was left in your account. "uh, yeah."

"will you be offended if i give you a vegetarian sandwich? it's the best one."

you cocked your head. "i mean, if it's the best one…"

jeonghan smiled slightly, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. "it's the best one. and it's my secret hangover cure."

you noticed his card too late. "hey, what are you doing?"

he quirked an eyebrow at you. "buying your coffee. like i said i would."

"that was way more than an americano."

"and i've burned way more than an americano," jeonghan reminded you. "and if you don't accept that, i'm buying you breakfast as a peace offering."

your eyebrows raised. "a peace offering?" 

he avoided your gaze. "i've decided you're not a pretentious asshole."

you laughed at his word choice, and how it mirrored your own. "i mean, i can be kind of pretentious sometimes. and a major asshole a lot of the time."

jeonghan grinned. "me too."

he washed his hands and passed along the sandwich order to his coworker as he moved to the espresso machine, briefly explaining to you that he was completely useless with food as soon as a heat source becomes involved, but assured you that seokmin was a master with a turbochef, and that your sandwich was in the best hands.

you giggled, watching his hands as he found a squeeze bottle and shot the contents into a glass. "i trust you."

his eyes flicked to you briefly, and you leaned against the drink pickup counter, squinting at the syrup. he held the glass that would soon be your drink up for you. "see the specs? real vanilla."

you hummed. "it smells good."

"it tastes like sunshine, i swear to god."

your eyes followed his hands as he expertly filled and packed the portafilter with fresh grounds. he felt you watching him, and did his best to suppress the itch to fumble. you watched him not burn your shots, stirring them with the syrup and pouring milk from a jug. he added ice, put a metal straw in the tall glass, then placed it on the counter in front of you.

you made sure to smile when you told him thank you, and jeonghan was pretty sure he would have collapsed from how cute he found you if he had slightly less resolve. 

"veggie sando for… y/n?" seokmin announced to the cafe, eyes creasing into a laugh as he appeared with a plate.

you gave seokmin a nervous smile. "sorry for staying over so late. i didn't know you worked this morning."

jeonghan looked between you suspiciously as seokmin assured you it was fine, claiming he was knocked out by midnight and didn't even know when you left. who did seokmin live with again? jeonghan chewed on his cheek as he put your drink and sandwich on a tray.

your eyes flicked over to the front counter as a few customers entered the cafe, seokmin already heading over to greet them and begin the order. you tried not to let your disappointment show when you told jeonghan you should probably let him get back to work. he tried to not let his show, either, when he nodded in agreement. neither of you did a great job.

"someone's clocking on in half an hour, i can take a break then. don't leave?"

his almost pleading tone made your lip twitch upward. "don't act so clingy, hannie."

he grinned, then stopped you before you picked up the tray. "first- hang on," he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it, quickly going to the keypad as he looked over his shoulder at the customers. "give me your number."

your eyes met his briefly as you took the phone, quickly punching in your digits and tapping to add yourself to his contacts. he smiled at the profile name - "americano" - as you picked up your tray and headed to your favorite armchair. even as he was making other drinks and serving other customers, he couldn't take his eyes off you, sitting in your armchair with your headphones on. it had only been two days since he saw you last, but he hadn't thought of anything but you the entire time. he had almost considered asking shua to swap shifts with him so he could have a chance of seeing you the day before, but he knew his coworker would refuse to take the saturday opening shift. he spent his whole afternoon off sitting on the couch in his apartment, staring at the back of his roommate's chair, trying to figure out why he didn't ask for your number.

"hey," jihoon said, and jeonghan had only then noticed that his roommate had spun his tall cushioned chair around to look back at him. "i said, do you know when seungcheol invited people around tomorrow?"

jeonghan stared at him for a second, then sighed dramatically, rubbing his eye. 

"woah," the younger laughed and leaned back in his seat. "who'd you sleep with last night? i need to warn them you're crazy."

"no one," jeonghan pouted. "what the hell? i'm not crazy."

"hyung, i say this with the most respect i can," he said, leaning forward. "you're batshit, especially when you catch feelings for a one night stand."

"ugh, whatever," jeonghan pushed the pillow off his lap and ran a hand through his hair. "we didn't even do anything."

jihoon squinted at him a moment. "okay, hang on, i feel like our definitions of not doing anything are different."

he rolled his eyes. "we didn't do anything," he repeated, standing from the couch and walking over to the kitchen to get water. "like, nothing. we didn't even touch each other. not once."

jihoon looked around, trying to understand what he meant. "i'm confused. you didn't touch your one night stand?"

"it wasn't a one night stand!" jeonghan threw a dagger glare at the other before he drank his water, muttering a "really" beneath his breath.

jihoon's face didn't change. "so… you went on a date?"

jeonghan swallowed the water hard, putting the glass down on the counter and leaning against it. "kinda."

"you are really not making this easy for me at all."

"we got coffee," he said finally. "we have a class together, and we made a stupid bet over who would pay, and they fucking tricked me, so i had to pay for it and we talked for, like, a stupid long time, and i think i actually really…" he exhaled, both hands rubbing his face. "i think i really like them."

jihoon whistled. "i just wanna say before the moment passes that it is incredibly on brand for you to fall for someone because they conned you into buying them coffee."

jeonghan glared at the younger, but he couldn't argue. "we got coffee and talked and then they just…" his palms faced the sky as he gestured, shoulders raised. "they just left. i didn't even get their number."

"okay, and?" jihoon swivelled back and forth in his chair. "you have a class together. you'll literally see them next week."

he groaned, pressing his forehead against the fridge. "but i wanna see them now."

and now, he was seeing you. much sooner than he had expected, yet not soon enough. the saturday morning rush began to pick up, and even when an additional barista arrived, jeonghan wondered if he would actually be able to slip away for a break.

"go ahead," seokmin said, grabbing the steamed milk pitcher from his hand. "me and hyejoo can handle it for a minute."

jeonghan looked at the shrinking line and nodded, quickly pulling off his apron as he walked around the counter. he knew he didn't have a lot of time, and pulling up a chair seemed silly, so he instead just squatted and folded his arms over the arm of your favorite seat.

you looked up from your phone at the motion, pulling your headphones off and grinning. "hey! the drink is delicious and extremely not burnt."

he smiled, noticing it was almost gone. "i'm glad! it's still busy, so i can't really take a proper break, but i wanted to ask you something."

you squinted at him. "what kind of something?"

"do you have plans tonight?"

"depends," you said, turning your body to face him better as you sucked on your cheek. "what's going on?"

jeonghan exhaled, amused. "my roommate is having people over for a few drinks or something, it'd be cool if you came by?"

you looked at a light, gauging the state of your hangover. your voice almost cracked when you asked "tonight?"

"you don't have to drink," he said, remembering what you had told him earlier. "and you can, like, bring a friend if you want. i know it's weird that i'm inviting you to my place."

you thought a moment. "don't you live with lee jihoon?"

jeonghan blinked. "uh, yeah?"

"i'll bring a friend," you said, tapping your fingers on the back of your phone. you looked back to him and smiled. "text me details?"

jeonghan stood. "yeah, i'll text you," he said, glancing up at the door where more customers were walking in. "fuck, i should go."

you followed his gaze. "i think i'll stick to weekdays. this place gets crazy on the weekends."

"tell me about it." he started to walk back to the counter. "i'll talk to you later?"

you smiled and nodded at him, and you waved enthusiastically at him as you were headed out about ten minutes later.

"i'm still waiting for a text," you teased, peeking over the counter as he made a drink.

he laughed. "i'll get to it when i get to it."

"thanks for the sandwich, seokmin! it was delicious!"

seokmin waved at you with a big grin and you looked back at jeonghan.

"i'll see you tonight?"

he nodded, a smug smile teasing his lips. "yeah, i'll see you tonight."

you didn't show the way your stomach flipped when he made eye contact with you, but you slid your sunglasses back on and put your headphones back on your head, and walked to the rhythm of love songs in the sun on your way to your friend's apartment, a stupid childish giggle threatening to surface the entire time.

"hey, is mingoo around?"

minghao blinked at you, standing at his front door with a smile on your face. "dude, you left like four hours ago. what are you even doing here."

"uh, no, myungho, i left like seven hours ago, get it right." he let you walk past him into the apartment. "is he still asleep?"

"is that actually a question?"

you trotted into mingyu's room, humming along to the song playing through the headphones around your neck as you pulled open his blinds.

"god, what the fuck," his rough voice went behind you. "the hell is wrong with you. go home."

"that's not a very nice way to treat the person that's gonna set you up with your future ex-husband."

mingyu's hair stuck in several different directions and his eyes were still squeezed shut, but he had pushed himself off his pillow enough for you to know you caught his attention. "which one?"

you grinned. "the one with the pretty voice."

"wait," mingyu fumbled with his comforter as he tried to sit up. "wait, hang on. jihoon?" you laughed and nodded as he sniffed noisily. "he is not my future ex-husband, y/n. he's it. he's the one that's gonna make an honest woman out of me."

"well, lady, get ready to be honest, because i got an invite to a kickback at his apartment tonight and i snagged a plus one."

he squinted at you. "what's the catch?"

you rolled your eyes. "there isn't always a catch. maybe i'm just trying to be nice."

"yeah, uh huh." mingyu flopped back onto his bed, rubbing his eyes. "why didn't you just text me or something? it's so early."

"it's like, barely morning."

"it's ten."

you exhaled. "it's 11:17, asshole. are you going with me or not?"

mingyu groaned and flopped around, his head aching from the drinks that had stopped too recently. "when?"

"uhh," you stalled as you checked your phone. no new messages. "not sure yet. i'm waiting on a text."

he squinted at you. "who's texting you? soonyoung?"

you shrugged. "sure."

"oh my god, it's jeonghan, isn't it?"

"whaaaaaat?" you deadpanned, walking over to mingyu's bed to sit on the edge, staring at your phone. "why would i be waiting on a text from that loser?"

"i knew you were acting stupid yesterday for a reason," he accused. "and you asked jun what his deal was. you like him, don't you? what did he do? did he corner you?"

"absolutely not," you said, sighing and throwing your phone down on his bed, slightly offended by him saying you were acting stupid but truly not being able to remember if he was wrong. "i cornered him, at his workplace, no less. then i made him buy me coffee. then i showed up to his workplace, again, incredibly hungover, and he still asked for my number."

mingyu's lips formed a pout as he hummed, rubbing his eye again. "never would have pegged jeonghan as the simping type, but sure."

"shut up," you laughed, and mingyu whined about whether or not you had washed your hands when you plopped your palm against his face. he pushed your wrists away. "do you still have that bottle of white wine?"

"you mean the one hao refuses to drink even though i spent good money on it for his fucking birthday? yeah, why?"

you grabbed your phone again, despite it not vibrating. "it'd probably make a good first impression if you bring a nice bottle to the kickback you were last minute invited to. i bet jihoon will be so impressed by your manners."

mingyu blinked heavily. "you're devious. what about you?"

"i don't need a good first impression," you said. "i already made an awful one and he still likes me."

he sighed. "you always have been a charming dickhead."

you grinned at your best friend. "thanks, babe."

mingyu groaned against his palms. "god, fuck, i was supposed to study for my exam today."

you clicked your tongue. "that sucks dick."

"you suck dick."

you pouted out your lips when you got a text from an unknown number. "i'm trying."

you hadn't fully decided yet how you were going to make sure jeonghan really liked you, especially after jun regaled his "disgusting sexcapades," as he described them. you took his words with a grain of salt, considering the guy had an extremely low opinion of him from the get go, but either way, could you really blame jeonghan for putting his incredibly good looks and charm to use?

you, however, found flings incredibly uninteresting. most of the men that went after you were dull at best, and definitely would have fallen for any stupid prank you had played on them. with jeonghan, though, there was a challenge. there was always the chance he would out-trick you. it was new and exciting. playing with people, you decided, was only fun when there were some stakes involved.

inviting you to have drinks at his place seemed like such a transparent ploy to get laid, but you couldn't help but expect more from him. something told you he knew that you wouldn't be that easy, and you wondered what his game was.

i think i'm here >

which apartment was it? >

you definitely could have scrolled up in your conversation with jeonghan to check, especially since mingyu was complaining next to you on the street outside the apartment building, but you preferred the power move of asking again. you hadn't considered, though, that jeonghan was absolutely the type to know exactly what you were trying as soon as he saw the notification and make you wait. you squinted at the window that clearly had a party going on inside of it, willing the boy to respond.

"bro, it's apartment 2-b. soonyoung says he's 'the b in 2-b' like, every chance he gets. let's just go up."

"hang on, i'm plotting," you said, putting up a finger and scrolling through your contacts.

mingyu groaned as you put the phone to your ear, pressing the cold wine bottle against his eye. "you are the most annoying person i've ever met."

"yet you ask me to hang out constantly."

mingyu glared at you with his uncovered eye. "i also watch a lot of shit television, so don't take my taste as gospel."

inside, soonyoung patted down his pockets when he heard his ringtone, then looked at the kitchen counter where he had left it when he was making drinks. he grinned wide when he saw the contact info and practically yelled when he answered the phone. "y/n! please tell me you're finally coming over?"

jeonghan heard your name, his head whipping towards the sound. he stared at soonyoung, phone to his ear as he laughed into it, and he exhaled when he realized what you had done. he looked down at the ignored notification on his phone, his thought process being that you would call as it became more urgent.

and you had, just not him. he cursed under his breath. you were always one step ahead.

"yeah, second floor! come on up, i'll meet you at the stairs!"

jeonghan watched soonyoung shove his feet into a pair of slides and exit the apartment, then quickly downed the rest of his drink. he was gonna need an excuse to ask if you wanted one.

you followed soonyoung down the hall as he excitedly chattered about how he didn't know you were coming.

mingyu laughed. "yeah, we didn't either. y/n got an invite from jeonghan this morning."

"jeonghan?" soonyoung looked at you. "i didn't know you knew each other."

"i enjoy being a mystery," you said, checking quickly to see if your message had been seen yet.

soonyoung couldn't help but laugh at the idea of you and his roommate, especially with a few drinks in him. "you definitely suit each other."

jeonghan hadn't lied when he said people were coming over for drinks, but he had definitely made it seem much smaller than it was. the living area had enough people that you didn't want to bother counting, but probably somewhere in the twenties. there was music playing, but the conversational chatter was still audible over the beat, and people were laughing with each other on just about every surface you could see. you noticed jihoon by the kitchen counter as you were taking off your shoes, and grabbed mingyu's arm to face him towards you.

"jesus, fuck," he stumbled over his own shoes. "why do i hang out with you?"

"he's in the kitchen and he's alone," you said, your fingers digging into his bicep. "now's your chance. ask him where you should put the wine."

mingyu peeked over his shoulder, then looked back at you with wide eyes. "are you serious? right now?"

"right now," you reassured. "you got this, big guy. you're hot, smart, and tall. say you like his music and blow his mind."

he exhaled, his lips forming an o, and shook his hand nervously. "okay. okay. thank you. i love you. i'm sorry i ever called you annoying."

you laughed, smacking his arm. "love you too, goo."

he shut his eyes and spun, walking towards the boy of his affections. you watched him for a moment, though slyly, as you wandered into the party. you wondered where soonyoung had gone so quickly, then clenched your fist in victory when you saw jihoon get wine glasses out of a cupboard and laughed at something mingyu said.

"oh, y/n!" you spun to the familiar voice, spotting jeonghan leaning against a wall casually, half engaged in a conversation. he pushed off it as you closed the short space between you. "you made it! why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"i did," you said, cocking your head at him. "but you probably knew that."

a sideways smile creeped onto his face. "hey, are you drinking tonight? i don't wanna tempt your self proclaimed alcoholism, but i've been sitting on an empty drink for a while, i could make you one too."

you eyed the red cup in his hand. "what's on the menu?"

"paloma," he said, lifting the cup. "but i can make you something else."

you thought for a second, then looked at him. you hadn't had tequila since the night you saw him sing. "i trust your taste."

he tilted his head as he moved, gesturing for you to follow him to the kitchen. you nudged mingyu with your hip as you settled against the counter next to him to watch jeonghan make a drink for you. he looked down at you, then put an arm on your shoulder as he sipped the wine he had brought, and you noticed jihoon had a matching glass. you smiled proudly.

"mingyu?" jeonghan asked, gesturing.

you nodded, then looked up at your best friend. "this is jeonghan," you said, pointing.

mingyu smiled at him. "good luck with this one. jihoon, this is my worst friend, y/n."

"i'm also the reason he's here," you said, leaning forward to direct the speech at boy you were being introduced to. "you're welcome."

jihoon looked at you, mouth parted into an almost smile. his eyes went to jeonghan, remembering their conversation the day before, then to mingyu again, who was covering his eyes with a palm in embarrassment. "this is why they're my worst friend."

jeonghan laughed, pulling your attention back as he popped open a soda with a bottle opener. "so you're like this with everyone?"

"i’m sure i don't know what you mean," you quipped, sliding out from mingyu's arm to grab the bottle and inspect the label. "jah…ritos?"

"jarritos," jeonghan corrected, pronouncing the h sound. "mexican grapefruit soda. it's the best for palomas."

"see, this is why people think you're a prick," you said, putting the bottle back on the counter. "you get fancy soda specifically for your fancy cocktails."

he just laughed at you as he poured tequila from a bottle into two cups of ice. "if i cared what people thought, i would have changed my ways years ago."

you let that marinate for a moment, then decided the two of you were much more similar than you had originally thought. he grabbed the bowl of cut lime wedges that seungcheol had prepared and squeezed two into each cup, and you watched as he topped the drinks with the soda.

"can you handle heat?"

you looked at him. "that's a loaded question."

he laughed again, and you wondered how many palomas he had before you arrived. "i like chili on the lime, but i wanted to be nice and ask before i did it for you, too."

"i'll try anything once."

then you tried it again.

and again.

jeonghan really was charming, you thought. and pretty. and he had a lovely voice.

at some point, soonyoung found you again, just to waggle his eyebrows at jeonghan when he thought you weren't looking, and you got introduced to seungcheol, who you both recognized and were recognized by. jeonghan rolled his eyes and shoved him away when he gave him a look, remembering how he described you at the bar ages ago.

you barely even noticed the time passing, but your drinks kept draining and you kept accepting more, and you wondered if you were really stupid enough to say yes if he asked you to join him in his bedroom tonight. but the more jeonghan talked, the more you were kind of okay with the idea.

"do you wanna get out of here?"

you blinked, chin in your palm and elbow on the counter, face inches from jeonghan's as he put down his cup. "and go where?"

he pouted as he thought. "i could really go for tteokbokki right now."

at that moment, you decided jeonghan really liked you. you grinned. "that sounds so good."

he smiled back at you, and you didn't comment on the way his eyes lingered on your lips, even if you really wanted to. "better tell your chaperone."

you rolled your eyes at the title mingyu had given himself earlier when he was trying to convince you to not take a fourth drink. "don't let his stupid height trick you, he's more of a lightweight than me."

"at least you don't have to worry about him, jihoon would never try anything. the poor guy is so shy, he was probably flustered just when mingyu said hi."

you quirked an eyebrow at him. "does he have to worry about me?"

jeonghan laughed. "if i wanted to get you drunk, i would have poured heavier."

"speaking of," you said, tipping your cup. "this one suspiciously tasted like not tequila."

he stood suddenly, palms on the counter, trying to force down the blush on his ears. "if you're gonna complain about every drink i make you, maybe you should stop asking for them."

you giggled, standing and imitating his stance. "just admit you care about me, yoon jeonghan."

he looked at you, a smile teasing his lips. "only after you admit you're in love with me."

you squinted. "a draw."

he grinned. "tteokbokki?"

[bechloeislegit]

You're Going To Be One Hot Mama!

Author's Prompt: Mother's Day fic from the "Rescue Me" Universe AU with Firefighter!Chloe and Music Producer!Beca. Beca has something to tell Chloe; she just needs to figure out how.

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Beca Beale was having lunch with her best friend, Stacie. Beca had just told Stacie she was pregnant.

"When are you going to tell Chloe?" Stacie asked.

"I literally just found out," Beca said. "I know that Mother's Day is coming up soon, and I want to do something special and tell her before then. That way we can tell our families on Mother's Day. And you can't say anything to Aubrey or anyone else until Chloe knows. Okay?"

"I promise, I won't say anything until Chloe knows."

"Good," Beca said. "Now I just need to figure out how to tell Chloe. I don't know what Chloe thought, but I thought it would take more than one try."

"Chloe's probably thinking the same thing," Stacie said. "It will be a nice surprise for it to happen so quickly. Do you have any ideas on how to tell her?"

"I saw a few cute ideas online the other day on how to tell your partner that you're pregnant. I just need to decide if I'm going to use one of them."

"What were some of the ideas?" Stacie asked.

"I saw one where they had a card made with a scratch-off on it," Beca said. "The card says I just wanted to tell you and they scratch off the area and it says I'm pregnant!"

"That sounds cute," Stacie said. "You could have a couple of them made and give one to Chloe and then give one to your moms on Mother's Day."

"I think I'll wait to see how Chloe wants to break the news to our families," Beca said. "I just thought of another idea I saw, and I think I'm going to do the coffee cup thing to tell Chloe. If I order it from Amazon I can get it as soon as tomorrow, Thursday at the latest."

"What's the coffee cup thing?" Stacie asked.

Beca pulled out her phone and pulled up a site. She handed the phone to Stacie.

"That's the coffee cup thing."

"This is a cute idea," Stacie said, looking at Beca. "I like this one."

Beca's phone pinged and Stace looked down at it. "Chloe's texting you."

Beca took her phone back from Stacie.

"Dammit," Beca said, reading Chloe's text. "Chloe's stuck at the station for an extra shift. I won't see her until late tomorrow morning."

"I'd say that's perfect," Stacie said. "Now, you can go home and order the cup and not have to worry about Chloe looking over your shoulder while you do it. Do same-day delivery and you can give it to her tomorrow."

"Same day delivery," Beca mumbled, looking down at her phone. "That's a great idea, Stace. I'm going to order it right now. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Stacie said. "If it works out, I'll have to borrow it for when Brey and I are ready to have a baby."

Beca looked up from her phone.

"Are you guys talking about it?"

"We've sort of been circling around it for a while."

"Too bad you didn't do it already," Beca said, as she began tapping away on her phone. "It would be awesome if we could be pregnant together."

Beca glanced quickly at Stacie; her gaze went back to her phone and she tapped a few more things.

"There," Beca said. "Done. It should be delivered between five and ten tonight. I can't wait to tell Chloe that we're pregnant."

~~ You're Going To Be One Hot Mama! ~~

The next morning, Chloe texted Beca to let her know she was in her car and on her way home. To save time texting back and forth, Beca decided to call Chloe.

"Hey, babe," Chloe said as she answered the call. Hearing Beca's huff she added, "Don't worry, I'm using the car's blue tooth to talk to you, so it's all hands-free."

"Good," Beca said. "Do you want me to have breakfast waiting for you?"

"You're home?" Chloe asked.

"Yes," Beca said. "Now about breakfast, yes or no?"

"Yes, please," Chloe responded. "Nothing heavy though. I plan on crashing as soon as I can."

"Okay. See you in a few."

As soon as Beca heard Chloe's car pulling into the garage, she made Chloe a cup of coffee in the special mug she had purchased. She was holding it out for Chloe as she came through the door connecting the kitchen to the garage.

"Thanks, babe," Chloe said as she took the cup, moaning as she inhaled the contents' rich aroma.

Chloe took a sip and then leaned over to kiss Beca.

"Sit down at the counter and I'll make your plate," Beca said, pulling back from the kiss.

"What are you doing home anyway?" Chloe asked as she sat down. "I thought you had to go into the studio today."

"The band had to reschedule so I took the day off to be home for you," Beca said.

"I love coming home and finding you here when I'm not expecting it," Chloe said, pulling Beca to her and wrapping her arms around Beca's waist. "It's the highlight of my day. I love you."

"I love you, too," Beca said as she wrapped her arms around Chloe's neck, pulling her into a heated kiss.

The kiss ended when Chloe yawned.

"Sorry, Becs," Chloe said. "We had a bunch of calls last night and I only had about an hour of actual sleep."

"No worries," Beca said, pulling out of Chloe's arms and going back over to the stove to put some scrambled eggs on a plate.

Chloe wiped her hands down her face and sighed. Beca grabbed some cut fruit and added it to the plate. She set the plate in front of Chloe.

"Eat up," Beca said. "Do you need more coffee?"

"I'm not finished with this cup yet," Chloe said, taking another sip.

"Okay," Beca said, watching Chloe. "Let me know if you want more."

Chloe started eating and Beca stood by watching her. She couldn't help but wonder how she got so lucky.

Beca and Chloe met four years ago and Chloe asked Beca to marry her after dating for one year. Since they met around Christmas they decided to have a Christmas wedding the following year. They'd been married for a year when they started talking about having a baby.

Talking had turned into the two of them getting tested to make sure it was possible. They both were fine, but Beca had some reservations about Chloe being the one to get pregnant. She knew that Chloe's job would make it difficult for her to still be an active firefighter while she was pregnant, so Beca said she'd carry their first child, and later they'd discuss who would carry the next if they wanted to have more.

Beca came out of her musings when she realized Chloe was calling her name.

"I'm sorry," Beca said. "Just taking a walk down memory lane."

"Good memories based on the smile on your face," Chloe said, covering her mouth as she yawned again.

"They were all of you, so of course they're good," Beca said, taking Chloe's plate. "Did you want more?"

"No, thanks," Chloe said, putting her coffee cup to her lips. "I think I'm going to bed."

"Okay," Beca said, rinsing Chloe's plate before putting it in the dishwasher.

"Oh, my God!" Chloe exclaimed, causing Beca to jump and turn around to see what Chloe was yelling about. "Is this for real?"

Beca noticed Chloe was looking down into her cup, smiling as she realized Chloe saw the message about becoming a mother on the bottom.

Beca nodded her head and Chloe let out a whoop. She rushed over to Beca and grabbed her around the waist, twirling her around.

Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe's neck and accepted the kiss Chloe gave her as she was set back down on her own two feet.

Chloe broke the kiss and dropped to her knees in front of Beca. She planted a kiss on Beca's stomach and looked up at her.

"I can't believe it worked on the first try," Chloe said as a tear ran down her cheek. "You are going to be one hot mama, babe."

"So are you," Beca said, wiping the tear from Chloe's cheek. "Our kid is going to hate how hot we are together."

Chloe chuckled. "We need to tell our parents."

"About that," Beca said, taking Chloe's hands and pulling her back up to a standing position. "I was thinking we could tell them in person when they're here for Mother's Day. If that's okay with you?"

"You expect me to keep this a secret for two whole weeks?"

"Yes?" Beca said. "It will make for one hell of a Mother's Day present don't you think?"

"You're right," Chloe said after thinking about it for a minute. "We'll wait and tell them on Mother's Day."

Seeing how tired Chloe was, Beca said, "Why don't you go get some sleep and we can celebrate later."

"Okay," Chloe said as she yawned again.

Chloe kissed Beca and turned to head to their bedroom. She stopped and looked back at Beca with a big smile on her face.

"I'm totes excited that we're going to be moms," she said. "Can I tell the guys at the station? What about Aubrey and Stacie?"

"Um," Beca said, scrunching her nose. "Stacie already knows. I'm sorry, but she was with me when I got the call from Dr. Madison. I made her promise not to tell Aubery or anyone else until I was able to tell you first."

"So, that's a yes to me being able to tell the guys?" Chloe asked with a big smile.

Beca chuckled. "Yes, that's a yes to telling the guys. Now go get some sleep. I have some plans for you later."

"Can't wait," Chloe said and went off to bed.

~~ You're Going To Be One Hot Mama! ~~

During her next shift, Chloe told the guys at the fire station about Beca's pregnancy. They were all excited for the couple.

"Being a parent is the best thing in the world," Chicago said.

"Emily and I are getting serious and we both want kids," Benji said. "I'm looking forward to being a dad, too."

"I don't know if I want kids," Jesse said.

Chicago laughed and said, "I didn't think I did either until I found out we were having one of our own." He let out a content sigh. "It's the scariest, most awesome thing to ever happen to me."

Chloe smiled. "I'm looking forward to it. I hope I'm able to carry the next one."

"You want more than one?" Jesse asked.

"I do," Chloe said. "I think Beca does, too. We're both only children and we've both said we always wanted brothers or sisters."

"Won't you have to be placed on desk duty if you're pregnant?" Benji asked. "How will you handle that?"

"Desk duty is pretty much a given, I think," Chloe said. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure my baby is safe and there are no complications to him or her being born safely." She chuckled. "I need to take a step back. We need to get through this first one and see how things go before we start working on number two."

The station's alarm sounded and everyone rushed to get to the truck.

~~ You're Going To Be One Hot Mama! ~~

Beca invited Stacie and Aubrey over for dinner one night when Chloe didn't have a shift at the station.

"Thanks for the wine, Aubrey," Chloe said. "Would you two like some now or wait until dinner?"

"I'd like some now," Aubrey said.

"Me, too," Stacie said.

Chloe stood and looked at Beca. "Babe, what would you like to drink?"

"I'll just have water," Beca told her

"Oo, try the wine, Beca," Aubrey said. "Trust me, you'll love it."

"I'm sure it's great," Beca said. "But I can't."

"Why?" Aubrey asked.

Seeing the look Beca and Chloe shared, Aubrey sat up and asked, "Oh my gosh, are you pregnant?"

"Yes, we are," Chloe responded with a big smile. "Beca just told me last week."

"I knew," Stacie said. "But I promised not to tell you or anyone until Chloe knew."

Aubrey smacked Stacie on the arm. "You knew and you didn't tell me? I'm your wife!"

"Aubrey, I made her promise not to tell," Beca said. "I'm going to go check on dinner. No fighting while I'm gone."

"I'll help," Chloe said. "I'll be back with the wine in a few minutes."

~~ You're Going To Be One Hot Mama! ~~

Mother's Day arrived and Chloe was nervous and excited all at once. Beca had found a cute fun way to tell their families she was pregnant.

Chloe couldn't help the smile that she wore after seeing the shirt Beca was wearing. Beca put a sweater over it and buttoned it halfway so you couldn't see what was on the shirt underneath.

"How does it look?" Beca asked Chloe. "Can you see the words?"

"Nope," Chloe said. "I love this idea. I wonder who will notice first."

"My money is on your mom," Beca said. "I swear nothing gets by Mama Beale."

The sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house.

"Showtime," Chloe said, taking Beca's hand to go greet their guests.

The Mother's Day get-together was going strong and everyone that was supposed to be there had arrived. Tables and chairs were set up in the back yard and everyone was relaxing and chatting, as they waited for the food to be ready.

Since it was Mother's Day, the women sat back and enjoyed the day, while Beca's dad, Ben, and stepdad, Paul, were manning the grills; Chloe's dad, Carl, was playing bartender and handing out drinks to everyone.

Beca and Chloe were talking to Ben and Paul when Chloe's mother, Charlotte, called them over to her.

"Beca, why are you wearing that sweater?" Charlotte asked. "It's over eighty degrees out here. You must be burning up."

"It's much cooler inside and I was a little chilly," Beca said. "But, you're right, it is warm out here. I'm going to take it off."

"Good," Sarah, Beca's mother, said. "We don't need you passing out from being too hot."

"I'll help you take it off," Chloe said, reaching to help Beca.

Beca faced Chloe and smiled as Chloe pushed the sweater off Beca's shoulders; Beca let it fall to the ground.

"Is it straight?" Beca whispered, looking down at her shirt.

Chloe put her hands on Beca's hips and adjusted the shirt slightly. "There," she said. "It's perfect."

Beca turned around and picked her sweater up off the ground. She made sure her shirt could be seen, but none of the parents paid her any attention.

"I'm just going to put his inside," Beca said, to no one in particular.

"I'll take it in," Chloe said. "You stay out here with our moms."

"Thanks, baby," Beca said, emphasizing the word baby as she handed the sweater to Chloe.

Chloe looked around as she took the sweater; still, no one was paying her or Beca any attention.

"I'll be right back," Chloe said and made her way inside.

Beca slowly made her way around the yard; again no one paid any attention to her.

Chloe came back out and rushed over to her.

"Anything?" Chloe whispered.

"Nothing," Beca whispered back, holding out her arms. "It's like I'm invisible."

"Hey, Beca!" Paul called out to her.

"Yeah?" Beca responded, turning to fully face him.

"What the Hell are you constructing?" Paul asked. "And why didn't you call me to help you out? I could definitely finish the job before December."

Beca and Chloe looked at each other and started laughing.

"I'm sorry, Paul," Beca said, still laughing. "But, this is not something I should be asking my stepfather for help with."

"What is he talking about, Beca?" Sarah asked.

Beca turned, and suddenly Charlotte and Sarah squealed. They ran over to Beca and Chloe.

"Does this mean what we think it means?" Charlotte asked, looking at Beca's shirt.

"Please say it does," Sarah said, eyes gleaming with hope.

"It does," Beca and Chloe said simultaneously.

"What is it supposed to mean?" Carl asked, walking over to the women.

"Read it carefully," Charlotte told him, pointing at Beca's shirt.

Carl read the shirt aloud. "Under Construction. Estimated Completion Date - December 2021."

Carl furrowed his brow and suddenly his eyes widened when he realized what the shirt meant.

"Does this mean I'm going to be a Grandfather!?"

"Yes," Beca, Chloe, Charlotte, and Sarah all yell.

Soon both sides of the family were hugging Beca and Chloe, extending their congratulations. Beca stood by and accepted all the hugs and love with a big smile on her face. Chloe stood by her side with a beaming smile.

Later that night, after the excited Grandparents-to-be finally go home, Beca and Chloe were lying in bed. Chloe, as she had been doing since Beca told her she was pregnant, was laying with her head near Beca's stomach. She kissed Beca's stomach and whispered "I love you, baby Beale" before moving up to grab Beca's lips in a kiss.

"And I love you," Chloe said, looking down at Beca.

"I love you, too," Beca said, pulling Chloe down for another kiss.

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A/N: This was supposed to be published on Mother's Day, but my son had a few surprises for me and I wasn't able to complete it and get it posted in time. So, Happy Belated Mother's Day to all the moms out there. I hope you had a great day and I hope you enjoyed this little slice of fluff!

[horansqueen]

New Angel - Chapter 14

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2  ☆ chapter 3  ☆ chapter 4  ☆ chapter 5  ☆ chapter 6  ☆ chapter 7  ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.7k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox!  ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

When I pushed on the door of the library, I felt lighter and I had a smile on my face. I was even starting to wonder if maybe I should give up on a love and sex life altogether. I knew it could bring joy and happiness, but at the exact moment, all it did was confuse me and make me nervous, and honestly, I didn't need that.

I smiled when I noticed Millie sitting behind the counter, her head leaned against her hand and looking down, probably deeply lost in a book. I stared at her a few seconds and saw her look up at someone who came to ask a question. She got up and they talked so I decided to walk the aisles to find something new to read. I ended up with a book full of random thoughts and sat at a table near the counter to make sure she'd see me. It took my friend only a few seconds to notice me and her lips curled as she raised her eyebrows. I waved slightly at her and checked my watch. I still had about ten minutes to wait and I just opened the book to start reading. It's only when I felt someone sit next to me that I got out of my thoughts a bit but I still had to blink a few times to get back completely to reality, turning around and smiling to Millie who leaned her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her palm, staring at me.

"I'm glad you came." she whispered, making me raise my eyebrows.

"I said I would, did you doubt it?"

She shrugged a shoulder and looked away. "When Louis said he'd come, it was a 50/50 bet to take."

"Perfect. That's the first thing you'll write down on your list."

She raised her eyebrows a bit surprised and I just got up and walked back to the desk where one of her co-workers was now sitting. I sent the girl a big smile and bent down slightly, asking her for paper and pen. She smiled back and started playing with a lock of her hair before nodding and giving me a few sheets and two pen. I walked back to Millie with a winner smile and she rolled her eyes, chuckling as I sat back down.

"T'was easy."

"With those eyes and that smile you can clearly get anything you want." she pointed out, rolling her eyes again.

"You almost sound jealous."

I gave her a sheet and a pen as she sighed, taking the pen in her hand and scribbling at the top to make sure the pen was working.

"I am." she confessed in a whisper. "It must be amazing to be you."

"Can I remind you that the girl I thought I'd spent my life with has broken my heart?"

"And then came back. I don't think you realize how lucky you are. Not about Grace coming back, but about everyone falling in love with you super easily." she explained, staring down at her sheet.

I looked at what she was writing and smiled sadly. 'All The Things I Hate About Lou'.

"How many times did you have your heart broken, Niall?" she continued, drawing hearts next to Louis' name.

"What do you mean?"

"How many girls did you fall for that didn't love you back? How many girls did you date and loved actually left you? How many of them made you cry?" she elaborated, making me frown slightly. "And I'm not even asking about the girls you just wanted to shag. I'm pretty sure not many refused."

"I've been through unrequited love, too, you know." I shook my head. "I know how it feels."

"You probably broke more hearts than the number of times yours has been broken." she added slowly with an other shrug and a sigh. "I'm not saying you didn't hurt or that your pain is not real or important I just mean..." she paused and shook her head, her eyes finally meeting mine. "I just mean that it must amazing to be you."

"Maybe it's time you see that it's also amazing to be you, Mill." I pointed out. "And the fact that Louis broke your heart doesn't mean you're not incredible, okay?"

I grabbed my pen and started writing X's on all the hearts she had drawn and finally added the number '1'.

"Okay..."

"Now write down how unreliable he is."

Millie looked up at me and her lips curled a bit before she chuckled. I waited until she was done and grabbed my sheet too, making a long vertical line in the middle before writing 'Grace' on the left and 'Summer' on the right. I separated both their cases in two too, writing 'pros' on both sides and then 'cons'.

I stared at the sheet for a minute or two and finally sighed. I had no idea what to write. Not because they didn't have qualities and flaws, but because I knew it would bring me closer to a decision I was clearly not ready to make.

"You don't have to write anything right now." I heard, feeling Millie's hand on my shoulder.

I kept my eyes on the sheets and licked my lips, nodding slowly and finally, I folded the sheet and put it in my back pocket. Millie got up and I did the same, forcing myself to put a smile back on my face and I walked past her. She followed me outside and when we were out, I stopped and turned to her, raising my eyebrows. I decided to put anything that had to do with love away for now, burring it deep in my brain for a while, focusing only on doing fun things.

"Okay, so what's your routine after work?"

She looked a bit surprised but finally turned around, pointing at a small restaurant not too far. "I go there first."

"Alright, let's go there, then."

I followed her inside and she ordered three pieces of pizza and three water bottles. The person behind the counter smiled and prepared the food, putting every slices of pizza in a different box. I watched Millie pay and grab the bag the guy was handing her before sending him a smile.

"Thanks Jon, I'll see you tomorrow."

We walked out and I raised my eyebrows, looking at her with an amused smile. "You literally know his name?"

"We all work around each other so we sort of see each other often. Not just with Jon but with other people too." she clarified, handing me a box. I grabbed it and she looked again in the bag for a water bottle, giving it to me too.

"Please, tell me the other pizza is not for Louis."

She looked up in my eyes and her lips curled. "No!" she chuckled as she started walking quicker. I followed her in an alley but frowned as I pushed my hands in my pockets. I was not sure why we were there but I didn't even have time to ask. I saw my friend bend down near a man who was sleeping and whisper something to him. He jumped slightly and she laughed, handing him a box and a water bottle. He sat up and grabbed both a small smile on his lips.

"What is it today, Millie?"

"Pizza." she pointed out. "How are you today, Ernie?"

I watched her interact with a homeless man just standing there and wondering who the hell was this girl I thought I knew, and why didn't I try to find out more about her before,

"Is your friend mute or just dumb?" the man asked, making my friend laugh.

"I'd have to pick the latter."

I frowned at her and took a step closer. "Hey! That's rude!"

"Ernie, this is my friend Niall. Niall, this is my friend Ernie."

I sent him a small smile and a head nod before Millie sighed and got back up, telling him she was leaving but that she'd be back the next day. She walked past me and I was about to follow her but finally took the few steps separating me from Ernie and handed him my box.

"Thanks, kid."

I nodded again and turned on my heels, jogging slightly to reach Millie who just looked at me with her lips curled on the left. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged, pushing my hands back in my pockets. "What?"

"Nothing."

I could hear in her voice that she was thinking about something but I couldn't decipher the way she was looking at me. I smiled back at her and finally cleared my throat. "Okay, what's next?"

She took her slice of pizza out of the box and took a bite before handing it to me. "Once a week, I go to the movies and the other days, I just go in the old dvd and vhs shop where they sell old movies for a buck or two."

"And what's today?" I replied, my mouth full of pizza. "The shop. Cinema is on thursday because it's pay day."

"Makes sense."

We walked inside a small shop and the bell placed on top of the door rang gently. She waved at the employee and he waved back before she chose an aisle and tilted her head on the side to read the titles. It took her about five minutes before her lips curled and she grabbed one. It was a tape and I started wondering if she even had a VCR to watch it.

"This. Did you ever see it?"

She handed me a box and I raised my nose up when I noticed Leonardo Dicaprio on the cover. I turned the tape around and noticed the incredible landscapes pictured. The images would probably look even better on DVD or in 4K but I didn't mention it and just nodded. It was her routine, not mine, and I was extremely curious to find out more about her.

"Nop, never."

"It's a good movie, with a few French actors."

I followed her to pay and the guy behind the counter smiled and nodded. "Ah, nice one."

"I know right? I think I'm gonna keep this one."

"A movie where Leonardo Dicaprio goes nuts? Good idea to keep it." he added, making her chuckle.

"And the girl is nice to look at, too." Millie added, making the guy nod frenetically.

I looked around the place, quite surprised at how many choices they had. How many nice places like this was I missing on? And why didn't I ever hear about them?

"What did you mean when you said you'd keep this one?" I asked when we walked out.

"Oh, when I bring back three movies, I can trade it for one. I do that sometimes."

I turned to look at her and she did the same just to send me a smile before turning her head back in front of her. We kept walking but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I thought I knew Millie but I had just realized that there were so many things about her that she didn't share and that I didn't take the time to ask, I knew that even if our friendship was not recent, our bond and how close we were was pretty new but at the same time, I felt like there were things I should know about her.

I should have checked where I was going because once again, I ended up running into a trash can on the sidewalk. Millie started laughing and I groaned, taking my hands out of my pockets before getting around it and walking quickly to her.

"Shut up." I mumbled, making her laugh even more.

"You don't seem like the clumsy kind of guy, I'm just surprised every time you run into something, and it seems to happen a lot!"

"Yea yea, how about you stop laughing and we just go back home to watch that movie?"

We had to watch the movie in her room for the simple reason that the videotape recorder was there and it seemed like way too much trouble to plug it in the living room. I made popcorn but Millie opened a few drawers and placed candies on her bed and it made me smile.

"Why don't you buy 6 or 7 movies at the same time? That way you don't have to go back there every day." I proposed, throwing some popcorn in my mouth and leaning against the wall with her.

"I can't know which mood i'll be in. It's a spur of the moment thing." she explained as the movie started. "Plus, I love going there."

"And what do we do after watching the movie?"

"It's dinner. Then shower, a few episodes of a netflix show, and bed time."

We watched the movie for a while and I had to admit the plotline was good, even if a bit fucked up. Millie was also right about the girl : she was very nice to look at and somehow, it made me glance at her.

"That girl is hot as fuck." I admitted, making Millie burst into laughter as she pushed an other candy in her mouth.

"I know right! And she's your type, too! I knew you'd like her!"

I blinked a few times and once again turned to my friend, leaning my head on the wall. I hated when she said that. I knew she didn't mean anything by it but I didn't want to admit that I would use some sort of base or mold to pick a girl. I hated thinking that I was shallow to the point where other girls who were not 'my type' wouldn't catch my eyes or stand a chance with me. And most of all, I hated that Millie saw me like that. I was about to start a discussion about it when Millie talked again, her eyes still glued on the tv.

"What about you?" she glanced at me. "What's your routine?"

I crossed my arms on my chest and shrugged a shoulder as my nose raised up in a grimace. "I don't have a routine anymore. My routine used to be with Grace and when she left, it became netflix from when the sun rises until it would set."

The fact that it was just being clear to me made something twist in my stomach. Who the fuck was I? Could I remember who I was before Grace? And now, with Summer, was I really myself?

I took the sheet out of my back pocket and unfolded it just as Millie handed me a pen and a book to write on. I looked up at her and sent her a small smile before writing under the cons in Grace's column. 'She decides everything'

"You know, I think that's part of why you annoyed me so much." Millie admitted. I looked up from the sheet and sent her a frown. Her traits softened and she sent me a sorry smile. "She would just tell you what she wanted and what to do and you'd never argue. She was bossy and controlling."

I couldn't pretend she was not right and I nodded with a sigh. "You know the worst? Summer is exactly the opposite. She's super compliant and it can get quite annoying."

Millie raised her eyebrows at me. "Well I guess you found something to write in the cons for Summer."

I sighed again but louder this time before looking down at my sheet again. I wrote down what I had just said and shook my head a bit. It was pathetic that the first things I thought about writing were flaws and I closed my eyes, letting my head fall against the wall in a loud noise after closing my eyes. "This is ridiculous, I can't choose."

"Hey, relax, it's just day one."

I felt my friend move on the bed and forced myself to open my eyes, noticing Millie was now facing me with a small smile. "We have 6 more days to fill that sheet." she slapped gently my thigh with the back of her hand and licked her lips as they curled more. "Trust me."

[a-cluttered-gordon-freeman]

Unclouded Days, because I'm not an idiot and I definitely remembered this story exists, part 3.

Part 1 | Part 2

"If I wanted to have a family... I'd have it with Alyx... Or Barney... But for right now...."

Gordon looked up from his journal. Taking a glance at his clock, he noted the date and time. 6:37 a.m. on a cold Thursday, April 13.

It had been a whole 2 months since he last visited Alyx and Barney. Gordon could remember the chill of the incoming blizzard as he trudged through the snow, and he remembered the chill coming back home afterwards.

His cabin was a safe haven away from the chaos of the society he helped create. Gordon wanted nothing to do there. He wanted to be by himself, for all too long he had been surrounded by people and he couldn't stand it. He thoroughly enjoyed the moments spent being away from everyone, where he was on his own, doing whatever. Nobody would boss him about. He wouldn't have to fight.

Barney had brought up a good point, but by accident. Gordon had mocked Barney by making such claims as having a family. And with Barney asking if he had one, Gordon spent long nights thinking about it.

No, he didn't have one, but Gordon couldn't deny that he had thought about having one, and having some kids of his own. He was still young enough to, but with whom? Barney would say yes, he and Gordon were always intimate with each other and would be asked constantly at Black Mesa when they'd marry. But it'd rule out children, as niether of them could reproduce with each other. Alyx would be uncertain about getting married, probably, mostly because she didn't know to the fullest what it meant. And niether of them felt a strong attraction towards each other, so would it even be considered a real loving relationship?

Gordon took another look at the clock. 7:15 a.m.. Temperature dropped a few degrees in the cabin. He sighed.

Another night wasted.

Closing the journal, Gordon stood up and stretched before opening the window to let it the sun and some fresh air. He stared outside, some animals crossing in and out of his vision, the leaves from last fall stuck down under the remaining snow. It was cold out, but the kind of cold one craved for in the spring. A nice and peaceful morning with a slight chill, the forestry just now waking up with snow melting around, providing nutrients to the life nearby.

He felt tired. Not unusual, as he lost quite a bit of sleep since that week in February. But Gordon couldn't fall asleep.

It was the entire point of that journal. To write his thoughts until he felt as though he could sleep. Some nights he considered heading back over to Eli and Kliener, maybe chat a bit. But being 40-something miles away would mean he'd arrive there sometime by noon. Other nights he considered working on some projects he laid out. But that would mean Gordon would have to turn on the other lights- all that artificial light would keep him up more than the red-light alarm he used to write in his journal. More often than not Gordon would just sit at his desk, writing away from 8 in the evening to 7 in the morning. The rare nights were when he didn't write in his journal, but instead bathed in the pitch black darkness.

Writing in the journal helped though. Gordon wouldn't have to worry about making sense to anyone, as long as it made enough sense to him. No need to appropriate a sentence, give it structure. It was a place where he could write what he was feeling, with no worry of harming anyone else.

Though sometimes Gordon wished he could actually tell someone, get advice or some help. It would have been useful as hell for him.

To ask for help gave Gordon the feeling of uselessness, a feeling he had been trying to avoid hard. To be told to do a thing gave him a purpose. So he did things that made him feel useful- took care of alien enemies for those that couldn't, provided backup to those who could, saved humanity, rebuilt society. Gordon did it all. There was no way he was going to ask anyone for help. He'd feel guilty as hell.

Gordon decided that he was done thinking such thoughts. And he had also decided that he would relax with a nice, warm shower, taking some time to ease off some stress.

Silence had been filling the lab. It was as if quiet things could become quieter, if it didn't make sound then it would start making other things stop making sound.

Alyx and Barney found it uncomfortable. The silence was deafening, and they could hear their thoughts much too clearly. It also provided a sort of laziness, a feeling of boredom, to the lab. A place once bustling with life and loud noises now only inhabited by two people with nothing better to do that they hadn't done forty times before.

"What if we went out of town for a bit?" Barney broke the silence, startling Alyx, who had been slowly falling asleep.

"What do you mean? To where?" She stretched.

"To Gordon's."

"I don't know, would he even like visitors right now? We have no way of asking him."

"Surprise visit?"

"We can't ask him, Barney! We've got no way to talk to him." Alyx rested her head on the table, letting out a drowsy sigh.

"I know where he lives." Barney said, causing Alyx to look over at him. "He had told me an approximation, he lives east near the giant trees."

"In the shack?"

"Yeah."

"Barney, thats forty miles away. We'd have to start early morning to arrive at his house with some daylight left. And besides, there is no way we'd be able to spend the night there, it has four rooms- a bathroom, a tiny bedroom, a kitchen and a main room."

Silence filled the lab once more. Alyx had a point, it was already too small for one person, much more with three. And there would be no way of confirming with Gordon if they could even get there- if anyone else saw them leave, and it would be a given that many people would see them leave, then Gordon's privacy would be violated by everyone else knowing where he lived.

It'd be rude to arrive uninvited, and unpleasant if he wasn't there or was too busy to let them in.

"Can't you talk to him?" Barney stared at Alyx, who sat up with exhaustion.

"How do you think I would be capable of that?"

"With that weird vort-connection-thingy you two have."

She took a moment to think. "I'm... Not entirely sure. I don't think I can."

"Should we ask a vortigaunt?"

Gordon finished dressing and took a seat on his bed. He was disappointed. His bath hadn't helped to relieve any stress whatsoever, instead he was convinced it added more and made it worse.

Which... Isn't good when you are a sleep-deprived physicist who has just been to a version of hell and back at one moment and wiping the enemy off the face of the planet.

His clock now read 9:00 a.m. exact. He could take a walk around the forest, or maybe cook up something.

Or, instead, he could lay in bed, the window open, the covers over him. Which is what Gordon did.

It made the annoying sleeplessness much worse but one could not deny the relaxing comfort it brought. And slowly, just so slowly, Gordon began to drift off to sleep.

"You can communicate feelings and pain without words, but you cannot talk to the Freeman directly." The vorts had answered, causing a sigh from Alyx and Barney.

"Well, then, fuck how are we supposed to get him now?" Barney huffed.

"We wait until he decides to come over." Alyx replied, getting up to go back to the lab.

"Have either of you decides to meet the Freeman yourselves?" A vort inquired, walking up to Alyx and Barney.

"No." The both of them responded.

"It'd be rude to walk up to his house uninvited, seeing as others could follow us." Alyx look over at the vortigaunts, who gave the appearance of understanding.

The two left the vortigaunts and returned to their eerily quiet lab, where boredom struck again.

Gordon shot up, panting hard. Beads of sweat trailed down his face, his heart and mind racing. He glanced at the clock.

5:21 p.m. on a now warm April 13.

Gordon took a second to calm down. He couldn't remember what had caused him to be so hyped up. Was it a nightmare? Bad memory?

What ever it was, it was gone now. Gordon could be thankful for that at least.

Chest still pounding, Gordon took a second to gain his bearings and calm down. He found it extremely difficult to do such on his own. As a result, he went out on a walk. He found it best to take in the nature, listen to the trees and wildlife.

As much as Gordon would have liked to hunt, a gun would raise back past feelings of fear, anger and pain that the Resonance Cascade and the Uprising caused. He couldn't stand to hold such a weapon nowadays, the only reason he'd have one anymore is for safety purposes. But even then, Gordon would much rather fight with a knife.

Bored with his little house and, unfortunately, the forestry around him, Gordon set out to the lab. It was best for an escape, as he wasn't feeling all that great by himself.

It was daybreak by the time Gordon arrived at White Forest. He had taken some time to visit Eli and Kleiner, and had also gone for a bit of shopping in the main town. Once done with that,he made his way to the lab.

"Hey Barney."

Barney turned around and was greeted by Gordon.

"Gordon?"

"Yeah, I'd hope so. How have things been?"

Barney smiled. "Its been good. And you?"

"...not good." Gordon sighed and looked down a bit. "Haven't been getting good rest."

"Would you like to spend a few more nights here? At the lab with Alyx and I?"

"Yeah... I'd appreciate that thanks..."

Barney took Gordon's hand and led him to the lab, where Alyx greeted them both with an excited smile.

Gordon got set up in his old room again. Sitting upon his bed, he stared at the ceiling in silent contemplation. Closing his eyes, he began to silently cry, for no reason he could find.

When Alyx stepped into the room, she caught a glance of the tired and teary-eyed man. She took that as a moment to sit next to him and offer weak support.

Gordon glanced over to her and wiped off his eyes. "S-sorry..." he muttered weakly, his voice shaky as hell.

Alyx smiled. "No need to be sorry. Just let it all out."

END OF PART 3

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Heyo! Its yours true. I need help to try to make it towards the end by offerring your support for the story and reblogging/asking more about it/ messaging me! Rb>likes, and the reblogs offer me more motivation to continue writing the stories, and same would go for my ravenholm comics, that you can read at @returntoravenholm-awgag ! I'd appreciate all the support I can get from anyone! Thank you!

-marc

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

^

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you 

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

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[easily-infatuated23]

The Tub: Draco Malfoy x Reader

a/n: this is my first one of these so sorry if it sucks but here goes nothing!

Part Two Here

warnings: just some light fluff, small mention of bullying

summary: reader is having a really hard day and when she goes to relax in the prefects bathroom the unexpected occurs 

word count: 2k

The castle is enormous. So enormous that getting lost becomes part of my daily routine. But sometimes, its so crushingly small it's hard to find a place to be alone to get away from the constant noise of what feels like hundreds of middle and high school students. Everyone’s first choice of escape is the astronomy tower, so much so that a Ravenclaw tried to institute a sign up sheet as to insure the crowds wouldn’t mass as much. They were unsuccessful. The truly hidden places of the castle are few and far between and for those of us who aren’t lucky enough to find the Room of Requirement, we must get creative. The most recent spot I have found is the Prefect’s bathroom on the sixth floor. Moaning Myrtle will sometimes float through but we are on good terms so she generally will leave me alone.

As a Seer, the noise of the world is extra loud in my head. It's bad enough to have the regular noise, but the passing through of others’ thoughts is exhausting. I have gotten better at shielding myself but it takes a lot of energy. The Prefect’s bathroom has been a wonderful solution because within the chamber is a large bathtub which I use as a jacuzzi, to relax and reset. I am just so tired. The added layer of being Seer as well as a non pure-blood in Slytherin, takes its own individual toll. My family had been pure-blood until my parents. My mother had married a muggle man.

I started late in the sequence of years at Hogwarts. My family moved from America to England which meant I transferred into school third year. For a while people were interested in me but that died down within the first month. However, when I let my family heritage slip, I became as talked about as Harry Potter. As a descendant of Merlin himself, people began to attempt to get close to me just for the idea of “fame” rubbing off onto them. Harry and I have had discussions about it together but I know he secretly enjoys it, even if he doesn’t know he does.

Today wasn’t just any typical Thursday. The excitement for Christmas break was buzzing around the castle, practically inescapable. The world was loud and I was tired. Luckily, today is a short day so I was able to escape to the Prefect’s bathroom after lunch. I usually waited until I knew most of the castle was either at a meal or doing homework but today the world had been especially loud. I tentatively filled the tub checking my surroundings for a stray ghost or student. Once it was full I climbed in and allowed myself to fully relax. The noise melted away and it was like I could finally breathe.

After only fifteen short minutes I heard footsteps and looked up to see the last person I would expect or want to see, Draco Malfoy. The Prince of pure-blood Slytherin, the cruelest person within the castle besides Professor Snape. He had never gone out of his way to be mean to me in particular, but if one of his buddies started something he would be sure to join in. When people found out about my abilities, I had been forced to read him in front of practically the whole school. I saw such pain and fear in his life that I nearly passed out. To prove to him that my abilities were real, he told me to tell him something from his past only he would know. I said “a talking diary and a ripped page from a bookstore”. Ever since then, he never challenged me again. And yet here he was now, invading my hidden corner, my escape from everyone.

We locked eyes as he walked in and we both froze. “What are you doing in here?” he asked sharply. I didn’t reply but simply began to get out and grab my things when his voice interrupted my actions. “I’m not gonna make you leave I was just asking. You looked dreadful during Potions today, are you ok?”. For the first time, his words and his tone matched and seemed genuine. “Everyone has been really loud today. Let's just say that if I never hear the sentence ‘is he gonna ask me to the Yule Ball’ again it will be too soon” I remarked. He chuckled and looked down at his shoes. I now became acutely aware of the fact that I was standing in front of him in just a bikini in a steamy room. My cheeks flushed and I slipped back into the tub. “Why are you in here Draco?” I asked. He looked up at me and sighed. “This is usually where I come to hide but I got here a bit later than usual, I didn’t think there was competition for this spot”. I frowned and looked away from him. “Yeah that’s my bad, I usually am in here much later in the day. It’s just been such a loud day already. I needed to decompress earlier than usual”. He walked closer to me, then circled the tub to sit on the window sill. After a few minutes he spoke. “Does it actually help quiet the world? To sit in there I mean”. He gestured to the tub. “Yes it does actually”. I replied.

This was the weirdest but nicest conversation I had ever had with him. I had never been fully alone with Draco before, was this how he was when he was removed from his asshole friends? In a moment of impulsive thought I blurted “You are welcome to join me if you’d like”. Shit. Why did I say that? This guy is literally the worst. “Wouldn’t that just add noise in your head?” he asked. “No, when its a group of ten or less I can actually turn everybody off quite easily. Anymore then that and it gets harder and harder”. He nodded and then looked out the window. I could see his mind working through his grey eyes, deciding if he would stay or go. Finally, he shrugged. “What the hell”. He kicked his shoes off and began to loosen his tie. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t help myself watch him undress. I finally looked away and closed my eyes, relaxing my head on the edge of the tub.

The tub was big enough around that he could sit on the other side and we wouldn’t touch. The water churned as he got it. He sat closer to me than I had anticipated but I tried not to think about it as I took a deep breath and let my mind wander. “This is surprisingly relaxing”. His voice for the first time didn’t sound as strained or coarse as normal. “How did you find out about this?” he asked. I opened my eyes and looked at him, puzzled. “Have you never been in a jacuzzi?”. He shook his head. “Wow well that’s one thing wizards should definitely adopt from the muggle world” I replied, with a smile. He looked away from me quickly. Was that a hint of blush coming from his cheeks? Probably just from the heat of the water I rationalized. “Do you do this everyday?” he asked. “At least once a week. It's good for the soul”.

There was then a long period of silence. At first the silence was uncomfortable, but the longer it persisted, the more comfortable it became. A couple times I could have sworn that the water churned in a way that would indicate him moving closer to me. I didn’t dare check. I kept my eyes closed as the odd smile would flow across my face without thought. When I finally did open my eyes, he was less than two feet away from me. We locked eyes and I smiled. He gave a timid smile back before looking away again. I wanted to use my abilities to slip into his mind and hear what he was thinking but I held myself to a strict rule. “This seems like a pretty necessary time to use it” the voice in my head remarked. I physically shook my head to expel that thought from my mind. I felt his eyes on me. “I wasn’t inside your head by the way. I thought about it but decided that didn’t hold up with my rule so I shook it out of my head”. “You can if you want” he replied. I looked at him and sat up a bit. “My rule is I only purposefully do it if absolutely necessary or if the person gives me permission or asks me to do it. Are you asking me Draco?”.

The words flowed out of my mouth before I could filter them. Was that flirty? Did I just flirt with Draco? The thoughts swirled in my head only to be broken by his response. “Yes I am” he said sincerely. “Can I have your hand? It’s easier if I have physical contact”. I said. He nodded  and stared into my eyes as I moved closer to him. I clasped his hand and imagined his energy and thoughts flowing into my brain. His head was relatively quiet, besides one thought practically screaming. I opened my eyes and looked into his, stunned. “What was I thinking?” he asked in almost a whisper. I swallowed hard. “You were thinking ‘is it wrong that all I want to do is kiss her’”. I felt my cheeks turn red but I didn’t break eye contact. “Is it?” he asked. “No” I replied, unaware that a smile had crept across my face. He smiled back as his eyes darted from my eyes to my lips and back. I moved his hand which I was still holding to my cheek. His free hand moved underwater to my lower back as he pulled me onto his lap. Our faces were so close together I could feel his breath. He moved his other hand to my waist as I cupped his cheeks with mine. In a tender moment, not overly embroiled with passion or lust, we kissed. It was innocent and sweet. It made everything else seem unimportant. It was as if time slowed to a stand still. After a few moments we both pulled away and shared a smile that became a laugh. “I can honestly say this is not how I thought my day was going to go” Draco chuckled. “Me neither” I added. Suddenly a thought popped into my head. “Wait what time is it?” I asked. He checked his watch. “Two o’clock, why?”. “Damn, I promised I would meet Ron for a game of wizard’s chess. I always beat him but he insists on constantly challenging me”. I started to pull away when I noticed his face drop slightly. I pulled close to him again. “I am not making up an excuse to run away from you. Believe me I don’t want to go but if I don’t Ron will come looking for me and this would be a hard situation to explain” I remarked with a chuckle. His face picked up a little. “Are you staying here over Christmas?”. “Yes I am” I replied. “I think I will too, I’ve recently started to fancy you and I kinda want to explore this without the pressure of the whole school being here, if that’s ok with you” he smiled. “I would like that”. “But for the moment we can’t tell anyone what happened here or that we are even friends” he remarked suddenly. “It’s not my favorite reputation to uphold but if my father finds out I am seeing or being seen with someone who is not a pure-blood..” he trailed off. I pulled his face close to mine again and looked deep into his eyes. “You don’t have to explain. Remember, when I read you two years ago? I saw all of your past. I understand why”. His eyes were sadder now but he still managed a small smile. “Ok now I really have to go” I said as I kissed him one more time before climbing out of the tub. He watched me as I changed back into my uniform, smiling a bit more smugly now. “When can I see you again?” he called after me as I walked towards the door. “Friday night, let’s meet in the common room. Everyone will be gone for Christmas by then”. “Its a date!”. I turned back and blew him a kiss which he caught and immediately pressed to his lips. My heart fluttered as I jogged to the Great Hall. “Oi, where’ve you been?” Ron questioned impatiently. “Sorry, got a bit caught up” I remarked, smiling at the secret Draco Malfoy and I now shared.