#I’m still so mad at the movies - like they got trek so fucking wrong

[bardicious]

Also also also, first Spock + Kirk SNW episode HAS to be the two of them, alone, in a dire situation relying on each other (oh this did actually happen with La’an but also this kinda happens with everyone so whatever).

Like, it would actually be so funny to me if everyone had a getaway with Kirk, and came back smitten. Sam would be SO jealous. Lmao.

Except with Spock, Kirk is the one that comes out with a crush (it’s mutual).

[alazyparallelworld]

httyd2 thoughts | watched same day, aug 12th 

it is, honest to god, stunning how much of a nothingburger this movie is

prior to watching this, minutes before, i relayed what i knew thru online osmosis - “uh, hiccup’s mom is alive? his dad dies. toothless gets this ‘alpha’ superpower and gets blue scales. there’s a big, mean, mind controlling dragon - oh, and there’s a dude controlling it too.” 

and he was like, mm, yeah, you get the gist, and i was like ah OK cool. 

but you know - even if you kind of, nail down the, specifics and importances of content - a movie/show/book/game you kind of expect there to be... more? for the thing to contain more than just the major connector-connecting threads.

uh!

no!

not really! nope! not at all! at least not here!

im sure in some chronically online defense, this is my own fault - for one thing, I KNEW, the aforementioned. sure i did not know how it went down. i did not know about hiccup’s dad being burnt alive, i didn’t know the Big Bad Dragon killed the Little Nice Dragon in order to gain mindfuck powers - but! i got the gist! i had been spoiled, rotten, i had my HOPES UP....  

and you know at the time this movie was released, ‘14, there wasn’t some internet drought thing going on. people talked and thus inadvertently spoiled “the gist” for the rest of us - coming into, new media, without expectation is impossible. it’s a fantasy. we all judge the book by its cover. through, watching the first film alone, i had expectations for its sequel! 

and mm yeah it did not, deliver, on anything. like i genuinely cannot think, at the moment, of any other piece of media that’s just... unabashedly disregarded any and all concern for: cohesive, interesting narrative, nuance, etc... 

now all of this gets the impression of: sequel bad everyone online is wrong, except,

i’m not.... mad. or disappointed. i am confused. i feel like i side-stepped into an alternate universe, reading all of these praises and recalling people who enjoyed this movie, in a, “WOW, IT’S SO DEEP,” it evokes emotions, etc

this is a really good popcorn movie. i fucked up, post-intro, into the scene with hiccup and toothless flying, searching for a new land- by asking, “so, wait, what was the point of that? that scene [ the dragon race ] was really long for a parallel referencing the first’s beginning tone. so it’ll be building up to something, right...?”

unfortunately i broke the silent rule, the singular guideline, of this movie: do not question anything 

this movie had answers.... to absolutely none of my questions. hey, did you ever wonder how hiccup’s parents interacted? well here’s a song! oh, and they dance during it too! and his mom’s a shit cook! so on and so forth...

it is just this - overly long, miserable trek of EXPOSITION that at some ambiguous point becomes lore dropping. but this - here we are, telling the story to you - stuff continues for so much of the runtime, it never feels like the movie’s... moving. it’s still the scenery stage, establishing motivations, over an hour-and-twenty minutes into this movie 

like, goddamn! i should already be invested! YOU, HAD, AN ENTIRE OTHER SEVERAL HOURS TO INVEST ME - THE FIRST MOVIE! I DO CARE ABOUT HICCUP AND TOOTHLESS - and sure, his mom, what’s up with that, that’s exciting! but, we, the audience, ARE HICCUP - watching mom gush over her dragons and her friendship [while also going off on some WE WERE BORN DIFFERENT (BETTER) SWEETIE bullshit, that never gets addressed lol?] and she notices him almost by accident. the touch is sweet, we do see this moment of, oh.... right, my son... he, he is here too.. that’s good! 

then it just - okay, here’s dad, LOOK AT THEM AWWW

and hiccup does not know fuck all about this woman. but because we need to see their love for e/o [as it was invisible prior to this, besides the breastplate gag in movie 1] it has to be done. it’s nothing! it’s... nothing! there is nothing to be said, once you ask questions, because it is not prepared to answer you!

you are supposed to... sit there, and watch, and long, long, LONG into this trek of anti-storytelling does the climax happen - WHICH IS INTERRUPTED, BY OH NO! DAD’S DEATH... and hiccup’s VA, my god, the customer service, “we’re out of bbq sauce,” tone in which he carries, “i’m sorrry dad,” - 

that was it, i think, really. i tried to keep taking this movie seriously, afterwards, but i think that monotone goodbye to a SELFLESS [?????????] chief did me in. that was the knife - and the stupid, stupid, last-minute asspull with the baby dragons that doubles as a ha-ha isn’t that funny moment, and sheep pinball was the knife twisting

sheep pinball 

there is - nothing, to be said, here - this movie is not teaching your kids to “think for themselves,” because - hiccup is wrong! both of his parents are right! drago can’t be reasoned with! THERE IS NO NUANCE HERE! NO MORAL! it’s a movie to eat popcorn to, sip soda, and talk about how cool the designs were and awh man isn’t his mom AWESOME and oh no i cried when his dad died -

rather than 

idk

anything of substance, beyond the food in your stomach. 

[katfett]

LITTLE VALKYRIE - PART FOUR

A/Ns: So um, here it is. I’m a little uncertain about this but I’m hoping it holds up to the previous three chapters as it is beginning to get into the trek to York, which I’m stretching out as land travel with a marching army, ain’t happening overnight so we got a nice trek across England coming :) I hope you enjoy!

All mistakes are my own! I’ve edited, but likely missed a lot as it is nearly 2am here and I have work in 4 hours but I refused to stop writing haha

TAGLIST: @peachyboneless @youbloodymadgenius @criminaly-supernatural @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @surewhyynot @revolution-starter @punkrocknpearls @oldglitterstory @bloooferladyy @naaladareia @ecarroll1978 @mrsalwayswrite @eveenstar

(If you wish to be added, removed - just lemme know)

SUMMARY: She wasn’t meant to be here, she was on holiday in England and the next thing she knew she was in the middle of a war. Nora needs to survive if she ever hopes of finding her way home, but she wasn’t prepared to run into the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. She wasn’t prepared for the adventure and trials coming her way.

CHAPTER FOUR

The chariot ride was uncomfortable; it felt every little bump and dip. Her back ached something fierce. She was grateful to not have to walk, given her lack of food or water over the last few days, but it was hard to find a positive beyond that. Nora could feel the start of a dehydration headache creeping in, making the trek ten times worse as the sun hurt her eyes. She tried to sleep the ride out, a near impossible task she was beginning to think.

Leaning her head against the wall of the chariot, ignoring Ivar’s presence, Nora wondered where they were heading. She hadn’t been the best history student, she’d eagerly sit through any movie about it like 300 or Braveheart and so on, even though they weren’t accurate, it was awesome to watch.

Probably should’ve paid more attention she thought drolly to herself. Then she’d be able to work out who these Vikings were, the rough year, and where she might be. This wasn’t how her holiday to England was meant to have gone. It was going to be hard to find her way back to where she’d arrived. There wasn’t a possibility it’d even be her way back. There had to be a reason she came here, right?

Though, it was going to be difficult, her arrival spot wasn’t going to have a neon sign about it to help her out, maybe there would be something that came with her that the English had forgotten, or not found? How was she even supposed to get back?

Nora couldn’t imagine what was happening back home; had she completely disappeared? Had time stopped? Were there people out looking? Was Mike okay? How did someone even rationalize something like this? How did she even explain it to Vikings who believed in a rainbow bridge?

Her eyes flickered to where Ivar sat towering over her. He hadn’t acknowledged her since they’d set out, his attention fixed on wherever they were heading.

What did he even want? Why had he dragged her along?

Would he think her mad if she ever found the ability to communicate what and who she was?

He must’ve felt her staring because after a moment those blue eyes lowered to her, and Nora found herself unable to look away. It was hard to work out what he was thinking as he stared back at her, his head tilted a little.

Those eyes were paralyzing; she couldn’t move when they locked on her. It was haunting to see the lack of emotion in them as he stared at her.

A shout from just ahead and Ivar pulled the chariot to a halt. It rocked as the horse shifted at the sudden lack of free movement. It was the rocking of it that allowed her to look away as she swayed with the movement, bumping into his legs.

He stiffened, she saw it and her wide eyes darted back to his. She didn’t know why she did it, but she quickly mumbled out an apology. It was a useless gesture when he couldn’t fucking understand her. It had been an accident. His eyes weren’t narrowed, but he didn’t look happy.

She leaned further back into the wall of the chariot, holding her hands up in surrender, hoping he understood she didn’t do it intentionally.

She could feel the scratching of that headache permeate through the back of her neck and brow. This was going to be a long day. Reaching up, she massaged her brow with the palm of her hand. If only someone would give her a drink. She didn’t care if they didn’t feed her, but she was dying for a drink.

***

She’d been quiet most of the day. He was thankful she’d stopped struggling with them for the time being. While he’d admired her fight, it would be tiring to drag her behind the chariot the whole way to teach her to behave at the right times. Fighting Harald, he still found the sight of her knocking the man down hilarious. Of all the people, he’d expected Bjorn to do it, but then again, his older brother didn’t really see the threat Harald posed.

To have a woman have Harald’s size do the job, was glorious. Ivar preferred her sitting by his legs, so he knew where she was. Harald had decided to remain with them, he’d been planning to return to Kattegat but had opted not to. Ivar knew why, and he could feel her watching him.

Glancing down, Ivar caught her bright gaze with his. He was still trying to work out how to communicate with her. This wasn’t like when Ragnar found that damnable monk, Athelstan; who’d been able to speak their language and was able to teach him English.

They were making good time, but Ubbe’s call to stop made him pull Fenrir up. The chariot rolled back as Fenrir fought the halt a little, and Nora bumped into his leg.

He stiffened. Embarrassing rolled through him; that rare, but powerful sensation making him freeze. People didn’t touch his legs; his mother had, Harbard had when he’d been smaller, ridding him of a great deal of the pain that had made him scream for hours on end. The jostle didn’t pain him, just made him keenly aware of what his legs felt like, how they looked beneath his clothes. She would feel the lack of muscle there.

She mumbled something through her gag. He didn’t know what she’d said but when she held her hands up in a gesture of surrender, he assumed it wasn’t cruel. She looked worried; like he might hurt her. He didn’t feel that sense of pleasure he’d gotten when he threatened Margrethe. Ivar didn’t want this woman so terrified of him that she’d not interact with him.

He watched her brow furrow and then the way she massaged at her head. Was there something wrong with her? He’d had head pains before, was she suffering from one?

Hvitserk appeared along the rim of the chariot, leaning over to look down at Nora. “I’m surprised she didn’t jump from the chariot halfway out of Wessex.”

Ivar hadn’t been. She seemed intelligent enough to understand there was an army between her and escape. He watched her cringe as Hvitserk’s loud voice startled her. She looked worn out.

“When was the last time she ate? Or had a drink?” he asked, looking at his older brother over Nora’s head.

“Before we caught her?” Hvitserk said with a shrug.

Ivar nodded. She had to be near dead on her feet if she hadn’t eaten or drank in the last few days. It was quite the feat to still be conscious in his opinion. He’d seen prisoners lose their sanity after a day. She had to be feeling the effects of it.

“Can you get her into my tent? Get one of the thralls to bring food, and water as well.”

Hvitserk nodded. He stepped around to the back of the chariot and Ivar felt the way Nora leaned further back into the wall. He frowned. She looked up at him, unsure.

“I don’t think she likes you,” Ivar said, grinning at his older brother who glared back.

“What woman wouldn’t like me?” he replied. Ivar rolled his eyes. Most women did like Hvitserk, because he knew just what to say to them, because he was a son of Ragnar, a non crippled son of Ragnar. Nora refused to move towards Hvitserk, and it made Ivar smile at the stubbornness of her. Even when Hvitserk held his hand out, smiling at her, patient. Ivar watched them, watching one another. He shifted Fenrir’s reins into one hand and reached down, grabbing hold of her upper arm. She stood rigid as he let go of her arm after dragging her up the wall of the chariot.

“Go.”

He pushed her forward to Hvitserk who caught her by the arm. She didn’t struggle as Hvitserk helped her down from the chariot. Ivar glanced up in time to catch Harald nearby, watching. He then noticed most of the people near them were watching; frowning or speaking to one another as they gestured to Nora. He’d need a guard on her.

***

Hvitserk guided her to a tent nearby, his hand clutching her arm firmly. Nora was too exhausted to put up a fight right now. She didn’t want to fight him; he wasn’t hurting her. In fact, he kept her close, half shielding her, and she was a little grateful as she noticed people were staring and pointing at her. Nora knew she stood out; her clothes alone gave her away.

She was glad to be out of the light when Hvitserk pushed her through the tent flap. It was quiet, and uninhabited as Nora’s sore eyes adjusted to the low light of the tent. She took in the bed of furs, the posts holding the tent up, and the low table. This was Ivar’s tent. She turned to look at Hvitserk who was standing in the entryway, holding the flap open as he watched her.

She gestured to the gag and glowered when he grinned, shaking his head. He motioned for her to stay, like one might command a pet with their hands and it would’ve made her growl but in truth, the gestures were their only form of communication.

To show she understood, Nora stepped toward the low table and sat at it, crossing her legs under her, and leaning her still bound arms on the table so she could rest her aching head on them.

Hvitserk didn’t speak and she was a little grateful when he left her, dropping the tent flap back down. Darkness encased her and Nora rolled her shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position. She wasn’t going to consider looking for an escape, just yet. She was too tired. She needed her strength back. To get that, she needed food and water. On queue her stomach grumbled, and she frowned.

If their aim was death by starvation, they were doing a bang-up job of it. Nora stayed where she was and had nearly fallen asleep when the tent flap reopened, letting in the light from outside through.

She glanced up.

A tall man, with white hair, held the flap open as a young, dark-haired woman stepped in. A slave? She gave her the briefest of glances before she stepped to the side and Nora watched Ivar crawl through. It didn’t escape her notice the way the slave girl recoiled at his presence.

Were people that repulsed by him? Was he a monster of a warlord?

Nora didn’t bother with them; she went back to resting her head on her arms. The sound of a crackling fire soon filled the tent and she listened as they spoke quietly to one another. She heard the shuffling of feet and Nora shivered as she felt Ivar come up alongside her.

It was him; she could tell by the way he dragged himself along the ground. How had he survived all these years with his condition? This time didn’t have the science, or the medicine hers did. What was he suffering from?

Nora startled a little as a hand scooped her hair back from where it covered her face. She looked up at Ivar. Her eyes went wide as she saw the knife in his hand. The slave girl had disappeared, as had the white-haired man. The fire lit the space, bathing them in a warm glow.

In fright, she tried to recoil but his hand twisted in her hair by her scalp, holding her still and she flinched but stayed put. Ivar’s face was passive and unreadable as he held her. Time felt like it froze as he brought the dagger up and slipped the blade beneath the cloth of her gag on her cheek. She held her breath.

With one firm pull, the dagger cut through the cloth and tight pressure eased. Nora couldn’t move, surprised and a little uncertain. Ivar set the knife down on the table and then, as though dealing with a wounded animal before him, slowly reached up and pulled the gag from her mouth.

She licked her dry, cracked lips and winced as it stung. He watched her, those eyes intent on her every little move. Oh, this wasn’t good. The tent flap opened and broke whatever hold Ivar had on her.

The slave girl reappeared and stopped in the doorway as she took them in. Nora didn’t move, but her eyes left Ivar’s face to watch hers. His fingers tightened in her hand, reminding her she was still held firm in his grip.

He glanced over his shoulder, speaking to the girl who jostled herself back into action and quickly stepped forward, setting a tray down near Ivar on the table. She hesitated to let go and Ivar snapped at her. Nora felt bad for the girl, but she also wasn’t daring to utter a word while he held her hair in a vice like grip with a knife in reach.

Even though he’d tried to communicate with her, she still didn’t fully trust him. She couldn’t. The girl left, and then they were alone again. Ivar didn’t look back at her straight away and Nora wondered what was going on in his head.

She wished he would let her hair go, give her some space.

Tentatively, Nora reached up, taking hold of his wrist. His head came back to look at her and she slowly wrapped her fingers around his brace covered wrist. She felt his fingers release her hair and as his hand slid out of her hair, she let go of his wrist.

She didn’t move as he reached for the knife, and she didn’t flinch or recoil as he reached out cut the rope around her wrists.

Rubbing her wrists, she nodded her thanks and then turned to face the table. The smell of meat reached her nose, and the heavenly scent made her empty stomach grumble, loudly. She winced and blushed, unable to face Ivar.

She wanted to reach out and take something to eat but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed.

After a moment, Ivar pushed a cup in front of her. He hadn’t moved from where he was resting, though he had moved his legs, so he was more comfortable. Glancing at him, Nora found him leaning an elbow casually against the table, his gaze on the table before them as he twirled the dagger in his hand.

Her mouth was dry, her lips parched, and she wanted whatever was in the cup before her.

He could’ve poisoned it for all she knew, and yet, she would still drink it because after three days without anything, she would take whatever was on offer.

Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed the cup and lifted it to her lips. She skulled the liquid inside. She shouldn’t have but the water tasted sweet. Nora coughed as the liquid slid down her throat and she pulled the cup away to cough into her hand. It was so good to have a taste of water.

She sighed, setting the empty cup down and wishing she could have more, but she needed to remember it could make her sick if she overdid it.

***

Ivar scooped her hair from back from where it covered her face. He knew how to do this, he just needed to get her to trust him a little. The thrall was off getting food and drink, and White Hair was ensuring no one stopped her in her mission. The fire bathed the tent, warming them as the evening air had started to grow cold outside, and the last thing he needed was to get sick.

She startled, trying to recoil but he anticipated it and twisted his fingers into her hair, hard enough to hold her still, not enough to truly hurt her. Her eyes were wide, she was frightened. He palmed the dagger. He needed her mouth free if he was going to try this.

Ivar didn’t need her to fight him. He was careful, unhurried as he lifted the dagger to her cheek, slipping the blade under the cloth. She’d stopped breathing. Ivar, had it been another woman, would’ve chuckled darkly at the sheer terror in her eyes. She wasn’t Margrethe though, and she wasn’t a thrall. No, Nora was something else, something unexpected.

He gave the cloth a firm tug and it sliced through the cloth easily. Hvitserk had gagged her after Ubbe had shown them the deep gouges on his hand from her teeth yesterday but Ivar trusted she was smart enough to know not to dig those teeth into him.

He was quiet as he set the dagger down before reaching up to pull the torn cloth away. His eyes dropped to her lips when her tongue darted out to lick those dry, parched lips and he didn’t fail to see her wince. He’d felt a similar sting was time ago, when the English had ferried him back to Kattegat after Ragnar’s deal.

The tent flap opened. The thrall stopped in the entryway, annoyed that she couldn’t just hurry on and leave, Ivar tightened his fingers in her hand as he watched Nora’s eyes jump to the thrall.

He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, “Set it down, and go, quickly.”

His tone left no room for tardiness, but he also disliked the girl’s presence. She recoiled at the mere sight of him, and if he could, he’d gouged her eyes out for the venom he saw lingering whenever she looked at him.

He watched her set the tray down, her eyes going to Nora and she hesitated. She was lucky she moved before he could bark at her again. The thrall retreated, leaving them alone again.

Fingers brushed against his wrist, and he looked back at her. Her bound hands were slowly wrapping around his wrist. She was quick to understand that communication was better with slow gestures that gave them time to work out what the other was saying. He would remedy that, sooner rather than later.

He eased his grip on her hair, letting his hand slide from it as she let go of his wrist. She surprised him, a little, by not moving away. He picked his knife back up and freed her hands.

Nora nodded her thanks and then faced away from him.

It was quiet for a moment, peaceful even, he thought and then her stomach grumbled. He saw the red flame her cheeks and smirked. She didn’t reach for the food and water though.

Ivar made himself more comfortable before he grabbed one of the cups and slid it across to her. It was just water. He didn’t want to ply her with mead. He needed her to be able to talk with him.

She scooped up the cup and down the water, quicker than he expected.

He was quiet as he watched her. The English wrote to communicate, he didn’t expect her to be able to read runes, and he wouldn’t be able to understand her writing.

He reached out and took the cup from in front of her.

Small he thought.

He nudged her arm with the empty cup, and grinned when she looked at him, confusion evident. He held the cup up, and like he was speaking to a small child, trying to teach them to speak, he spoke.

“Cup.”

He motioned to it with the knife in his hand. Quiet settled between them. He repeated the word. It must’ve dawned on her what he was doing as she twisted to face him, her legs curled under her as she leaned forward a little, her eyes eager. He shook the cup a little, and pointed the knife at her, waiting.

She gave him the most perplexed look but then she tried to repeat the word, in his language. It was rather rough, and it took every bit of him not to sigh at the way she butchered a simple word with that strange accent of hers.

Then, she surprised him. She reached out and plucked the empty cup from him. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she pointed at it and spoke.

The smug look on her face made the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk. He fought the urge, just. Rolling his eyes, he nodded, gesturing with his knife to the cup again. She repeated the word in her language.

***

Ivar was intelligent, frighteningly so. When he’d reached out to take the cup, Nora had half hoped he would refill it. Instead, he nudged her with it, like a toddler trying to get her attention. She looked at him, brow furrowed, and tired. She really did want to sleep once she was hydrated and her belly reasonably full.

He held the cup up, gesturing to it as he spoke one word. What? She was so confused. He repeated the word, still gesturing to the cup.

Wait.

Was he – Was he trying to teach what word meant cup in his language? The idea of sleep suddenly vanished. If she learned how to speak basic words in his language, she could ask for things, she would be able to learn more about this place, where they were going.

Twisting to face him fully, Nora leaned forward, wanting to try. Hang Yoda’s suggestion that there was no try, the little green frog didn’t get transported back in time and taken prisoner by Vikings.

Ivar shook the cup a little and then pointed the knife at her. It was quiet, and for a moment she tried to remember how he had pronounced it. She tried to replicate it, though by the look on his face her accent was butchering the simple word.

Two can play this game.

She reached out and took the cup from him, setting it in the palm of her hand and holding it up, pointing to it.

“Cup.”

Let’s see you do it, Mr. Smug she thought, internally chuckling. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and she felt her heartbeat quicken at the way he rolled his eyes at her, nodding. He gestured to the cup with his knife. Repeat.

She did as he hinted and said the word again. Just as her accent butchered cup in his language, his butchered hers. Nora giggled; she couldn’t help it. She watched him purse his lips and held a hand up as a means of apology. It wasn’t at him, just at how bad their respective accents made this.

He turned and made her flinch when he skewered a piece of meat with his knife. He turned back and held it up. Nora’s stomach growled. The smirk that came to his face made her audibly growl as he pulled it away when she went to reach for it.

Apparently, he could play this better than her.

Once she sat back, waiting, he held the meat back between them. He said a new word. Did this mean meat? He said it slowly the second time. Nora knew what he was doing. If she didn’t pronounce it right, he wasn’t going to give her the meat. Pursing her lips, Nora leaned her elbows on her knees and then her head in her hands as she ran through the word in her mind. She could do this; she would do this.

“Meat.” She said the word slowly, carefully. Hoping her damn accent didn’t lose her brownie points this time. He looked at her past the meat and she narrowed her eyes at him, holding her hand out and making a give it over gesture.

Nora felt her pulse quicken and her cheeks warm as Ivar smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Oh boy, he was handsome up close when he smiled like that. He tipped the point of the knife to her and let her take the meat off it.

Carefully, she chewed on it. It was pork, she gathered. It wasn’t chicken, that was for sure. It was good, whatever it was. She held her last bite up, rubbing her mouth on the back of her sleeve.

“Meat.”

This time she said it in his language, and then hers. He turned and grabbed another piece, holding it out to her. She didn’t even care that he’d grabbed it with his fingers, she devoured the last bit she held and then reached out to take the new piece.

As she took it, she repeated the word in her language. He was watching her, his eyes taking her in, and she was struggling to work out why he was staring at her like he was.

The tent flap opened.

Nora jerked out of her daze, and whatever was going on, to look at their visitor.

Hvitserk stepped in, his gaze searching the tent before landing on the two of them at the table. He grinned, and Nora didn’t miss the way Ivar rolled his eyes as he looked back at her. She covered her mouth with both hands to hide her smile at the lack of utter contempt Ivar seemed to have for their lesson, or whatever being interrupted.

***

“Enjoying yourself in here?” Hvitserk asked as he approached, not waiting for Ivar to offer for him to join them.

He plopped himself down on the opposite side of the table to them, grabbing the second cup and a piece of meat. Ivar slammed the knife he was holding down into the tabletop, stopping Hvitserk and making Nora jump.

“Who said you were invited in?” Ivar looked at Hvitserk, clearly not happy. Realizing that, Hvitserk smirked and ignored his little brother to look at the woman among them.

“You took off the gag,” he said, and his eyes fell to her wrists, “and her bindings. Was that wise?”

Ivar looked back to Nora who was watching them both, still sitting beside him. He jerked his head to Hvitserk. “Fool.”

Hvitserk glared at him.

Nora spoke, trying to repeat the word, she didn’t quite get it. Hvitserk glanced at her, eyes widening. She then held up the cup, and proudly butchered it again. Ivar rolled his eyes, though he was grinning at the absolute confusion on Hvitserk’s face. Nora surprised Ivar though as she moved, getting up onto her knees and leaning across the table alongside of him to reach for a piece of meat. He let her, his eyes following her intently as she came close to him.

Most people kept a healthy distance from him. Nora froze, seeming to realize what she had done. She blushed bright red, and as quickly as she’d moved, she sat back, a piece of meat in her hand. Ivar didn’t know how to respond as she held the meat up to Hvitserk.

“Meat.”

He had to grin. She got that one perfect. He looked at Hvitserk, and his grin faltered as he realized his older brother was watching Nora before his gaze moved to Ivar.

“Why are you teaching her our language?” he asked. Ivar rolled his eyes, and leaned forward, taking the cup from Nora’s hand. He held it up and said the word for it in Nora’s language. He smirked at the way Hvitserk’s eyes bulged. “Why?”

“Why not? We need to communicate with her,” Ivar said, with a shrug as he refilled the cup from the larger pitcher and slid it back towards Nora without glancing at her. He could see from the corner of his eye as she took it. “I want to know who she is, where she comes from, where she got those clothes.”

Hvitserk slowly nodded. “And you’re learning her language, why?”

Ivar grinned. “So, she won’t be able to plan anything behind our backs.”

***

Nora didn’t know what they were saying, but least it gave her a chance to watch how they interacted. She wondered if they were related to one another. They had similar features here, and there, and their smiles had that same upturn at the corner of their mouths.

Who was the older brother?

When Ivar took the cup off her, and refilled it, after shocking their newest addition by saying the word for it in her language, he surprised her by sliding it back to her. She was silently thankful for the kind gesture, though she was careful to sip this time.

After finishing off her food, and water, Nora struggled to fight the yawn that came on. She covered her mouth, looking sheepish. Both men looked at her. They spoke to one another before Hvitserk sighed, clearly not happy but he climbed to his feet and stepped around the table towards the furs. Wait, this was Ivar’s tent, wasn’t it?

She watched as Hvitserk picked up a few of the furs and dropped them unceremoniously near the fire. Nora glanced at Ivar when Hvitserk spoke to him. He looked at her and jerked his head in Hvitserk’s direction.

She climbed to her feet, a little stiffly and made her way towards Hvitserk. He didn’t move as she stepped around him to the furs. She glanced up at him. He was so tall. She smiled a little awkwardly and nodded her thanks. He nodded, and then moved away, back to the table.

Nora unzipped her jacket, shrugging out of it. Her vest followed, she collapsed down onto the furs and unlaced her boots, tugging them off, her socks following. She tucked them into her boots which set beside her jacket and vest. Grabbing one of the furs, she dragged it over legs and glanced across at Ivar and Hvitserk.

She paused.

They were staring at her.

Fisting handfuls of the fur, she waved a little awkwardly before shuffling to curl up on her side under the fur, facing the fire. She wasn’t going to wish them goodnight. It didn’t take long for Nora to fall asleep, exhausted, finally not so starving or thirsty.

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {1}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 26.3k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

.

.

The clock on the other side of the wall keeps ticking, each second driving you closer to madness over the insistent sound.

You click your pen open and closed. Open and closed. Open and closed.

And yet you still have no freaking clue on how to begin this godawful novel.

Godawful as in the mere effort it takes for it to come to life is starting to make you want to flick yourself off from a window.

Like, god, you’ve been staring at an empty piece of paper for almost two hours now, your coffee’s gone cold.

And yeah you write in paper. No laptop, no typewriter, just you, your pen and a currently empty piece of paper. It seems more direct, more intimate this way. Put you in front of a blank screen and your brain will surely follow it.

Although, today it doesn’t seem like you have much luck with paper either.

With a tired sigh, you rest your mighty pen on your desk, taking out your noise-cancelling earbuds and stand up from your chair.

You stretch out your limbs, your back already killing you from hunching over your desk for two hours now and you trudge over to the living room where the rest of your friends are having a movie night.

“Guys, the old crone decided to join us…” Hoseok comments from his side of the small couch as you drag your feet to your designated spot beside Jimin on the big couch.

“Quick, hide your popcorn, and hide your jelly beans!” Seokjin joins in on the mocking as Jimin scans through Netflix for a decent movie none of you has seen yet.

You know you’ll end up watching Dirty Dancing again because the chances of finding a movie none of you has seen yet are nearly non-existent.

 “Ha, ha, your superior sense of humour is astounding…” you mumble as you sit cross-legged on the couch and Ana turns to you from her spot next to Hoseok.

“No luck with the novel still huh?” her eyes are looking at you sympathetically and you grumble a response, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, it’ll come to you eventually,” Seokjin says, stretching his hand from his armchair to your right to nudge your knee and you let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs once he retracts it.

Jimin gives you a side glance before his eyes return to the screen. “Yeah, until she gets a different idea and the cycle repeats itself.”

“Hey!” you lightly punch your best friend in the ribs, earning a groan from him, “I just have to find a way to start this bloody thing and then it’ll turn out to be the greatest book in the century, you’ll see!” you defend your cause, eyes wide and challenging on Jimin who simply smiles at you with a winning smirk.

“That’s more like it…” he replies, the glint in his eyes your only hint giving away the intention behind his words and again you groan. Refusing to let the smile on your lips appear.

“I hate you when you do that…” you mumble, a small note of fondness only Jimin can distinguish, hiding in your voice as he finally picks his choice of a film with a smile hanging from his lips.

“Shh, the movie��s starting!” Ana interrupts everyone when -surprise surprise- Dirty Dancing starts playing. All of you have a certain liking towards the movie- I mean what’s not to like? Summer romance? Patrick Swayze with half-open shirts? Heated dancing? With Patrick Swayze?- but you can say for certain Ana takes the cake as a Dirty Dancing fan.

“How can you still be this much excited for this movie?” Hoseok comments from beside her and even though he sounds judgey there’s only lovesick fondness in his eyes when he looks at Ana.

Although when Ana turns to look at her boyfriend, she looks completely serious. “Keep this up and no sex for a month. We don’t condone this kind of behaviour in this house.”

You and Jimin try to suppress your giggles as Hoseok’s eyes widen in fear. “You can’t do that, what about you?!”

Ana simply smiles back with too much sweetness. “My hands aren’t just good for making you cum, babe.”

Disgusted protests come from the rest of the group as you’re sure you won’t ever be able to unhear this.

“Why, why did we have to hear that?” Jimin complains as Seokjin makes a gagging sound next to him.

Hoseok just smiles. “Oh, come on Jimin, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy tapping this hot piece of ass!” and another round of puking sounds emerges in the room.

Truth is Ana didn’t date Hoseok in the beginning. In reality, she got added to your group only after she started going out with Jimin in the second year of college. And even though she and Jimin didn’t work out in the end, she had already become an essential part of your group and they even remained great friends after the breakup.

Not long after that Hoseok asked her out. And you swear no couple ever made more sense than those two. Although you really hate when they get down and dirty in Hoseok’s room which is right next to yours.

You first started living with Hoseok and Jimin in the first year of college, five years ago. Jimin was a guy you barely knew from high school but he was the greatest of options you had when looking to share an apartment with someone. You didn’t want to live in a dorm but it wasn’t like your parents were rich or something, so there was no way for them to afford an apartment just for you. So looking for a roommate was the best solution.

Hoseok came a little bit afterwards. You and he shared a class and you became friends fairly quickly. So when he told you the situation at his dorm was unbearable, you couldn’t help but think of the empty bedroom in your apartment. And the rest is history.

Seokjin became a part of your group only months before Ana did. He and Jimin worked at the same part-time job as waiters in a local restaurant. And while Seokjin went forward to run his own restaurant and Jimin followed his passion as a dance instructor their friendship persevered. So it wasn’t long before he joined your group.

And it wasn’t long before you got this stupid crush on him.

Not that it matters anyway. He doesn’t know and you don’t plan on ever telling him to be honest. You know how easily things could go wrong and you’re fine with simply being his friend.

“Okay, babe, that’s enough for now…” Ana quiets down her boyfriend with a small kiss on his lips and finally pipes down to focus on Patrick Swayze’s biceps.

Your eyes rest on the screen as another exhausted sigh escapes you. This novel is your chance of having something of yours published. What if you can’t make it in time? What if it’s shit? What if you finally realize after all this time that being a writer was never what you were supposed to be and all those years believing that were in vain? What if-?

Your thoughts get interrupted when you feel a palm laying across your knee and squeezing it gently.

The fog in your head clears a bit when you find Jimin looking at you with a soft smile. One that tells you not to worry. Jimin could always read you like a book so it’s no surprise he could sense you spiralling.

And it’s not a surprise that with a single look he can calm down your racing thoughts.

He’s one of your closest friends after all.

.

.

“Hoseok you can’t keep using Ana’s departure as an excuse to not help with cleaning up!” you yell towards the couple saying goodbye at the front door, while Seokjin giggles as he dries out some of your plates.

“Shut up, you heathen, this is true love we’re talking about! Also, I can and I will!” your roommate yells back and you roll your eyes. On the other side of the room, Jimin picks up several empty beer cans as Ana kisses her boyfriend.

“Go on, babe, before they drive a stick through your ass,” she chuckles.

Hoseok pouts, the gesture almost etched to his features by now. “Oh, and you haven’t even done it that thing you wanted yet!”

“Again keep your weird sexual life out of this god-respected household,” Jimin comments and at once everyone turns to stare at him confused.

He stares back before, “Okay, yeah, I just heard it…” then he proceeds to take the trash out.

Ana chuckles before pressing another kiss on Hoseok’s lips. “Okay, I’m off. Bye guys!” to which you all respond with a chorus of “byes”.

Hoseok closes the door with a dreamy sigh before trekking over to the kitchen island to watch as you and Seokjin clean up. “Is it weird that I miss her already?”

Seokjin coos at the same time you react too. Although your reaction comes closer to a gagging sound and now both of them look at you like you just kicked a puppy.

You clear your throat, “oh, I- I meant… ''awww”...” you reply quickly, avoiding their stares to clean up the rest of the plates.

“Don’t mind her Hobi, she's just jealous,” Seokjin comments as he rests his towel on his shoulder.

At that, you scoff. You’re not jealous! You just hate corny things!

“Jealous? Pff. Who says they miss someone right after they leave? That’s just cheesy! I mean, yeah, you and Ana are perfect for each other, you’re cute together and you complete each other, and there’s intimacy and feelings and mutual respect…” your voice becomes sadder at the end and ultimately fades out, leaving you staring at the floor.

Where were you going with this?

The guys look at you with knowing glances and you groan out loud.

“Oh, shut your faces. I’m not jealous!” “Who’s not jealous?” Jimin asks once he’s back into the apartment.

“Y/N, of our relationship,” Hoseok’s quick to respond.

“Yours and mine?” Jimin queries.

Hoseok rolls his eyes but he responds in all seriousness “No, Ana’s and mine.”

Jimin just shrugs. “Makes more sense.”

Your eyes narrow and you scoff. “No, it doesn’t because I’m not jealous!”

Seokjin places his palm on your shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find someone someday to be grumpy with.”

You pick his hand and drop it off your shoulder. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Besides I got my novel to write, I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I’d marry rich if I was expecting anything of that novel!” Hoseok comments with a laugh but everyone freezes, including you. Is that what he really thinks? That you’re not gonna make it?

All of you turn to look at him, but Hoseok remains oblivious of your stares for a few moments. But when he realizes you’re all looking at him, he looks confused.

“What?” he asks, visibly perplexed.

Jimin’s eyes widen, disbelief in his voice. “Dude!”

Hoseok shrugs though his eyes widen in almost fear. “It was a joke!” his voice is one pitch higher as slight traces of panic are evident in his words. When no one responds, he turns to you, desperation and honesty in his eyes. “Y/N, really, it was just a joke.”

You stare for a moment too long, before you nod, giving him a smile to spare him from his misery, deciding to not let such a simple comment affect you. “Yeah, yeah, I know, of course!”

“I didn’t mean any of that okay? It was a stupid joke!” Hoseok nearly screeches, regret in his words as he doesn’t seem at all convinced by your answer.

You force a laugh to calm him down.

“Hobi, I’m fine! Don’t worry too much,” you smile at him, patting him on the back and moving to put the plates Seokjin dried out to their respective cabinets.

He still doesn’t seem convinced and he’s ready to pester you some more before Seokjin intervenes, sensing you’re starting to feel uncomfortable with all the attention. “Anyways, Hoseok you said you wanted my opinion on something?”

Hoseok’s attention turns to Seokjin once he speaks up. “Ah yeah! Actually, my three-year anniversary with Ana is coming up and I’m all out of ideas,” he responds sheepishly as he rubs the base of his neck.

“Ehm, hello? I’m her best friend, why don’t you ask me?” you complain, putting your hands on your waist with one eyebrow cocked up.

“Y/N your most serious relationship lasted two months and it ended because you fought over which peanut butter spread is the best,” Hoseok raises an eyebrow at you as he and Seokjin walk over to the couch, trying to brainstorm ideas.

“I’m sorry but whoever thinks smooth is better than crunchy is simply not human,” the memory sends a shudder through you and you look at Jimin for confirmation and he’s quick to nod his head and agree.

“Oh, yeah, that relationship had no future after that,” he washes his hands at the sink as he looks over to Hoseok who simply giggles.

“Okay, yeah, I can give you that one. But you really have no idea of relationships, so I’m sorry but I’m not taking any suggestions,” he softens the blow with a flying kiss in your direction.

You scoff, indignant. “Rude. True but rude!” you admit as you finally place the last of the plates in its place. Hoseok and Seokjin are now deep in conversation, throwing one idea after the other and if he decides to go with any of these, you’re sure Ana will dump him before he gets the chance to utter “break up sex”.

Seeing as there’s nothing else left for you to do, you decide to head off to sleep, making a mental note to talk to Hoseok about his date ideas and salvage whatever you can.

“Okay, I’m going to bed, goodnight guys!” you wave them goodnight before turning to the hallway when Jimin comes towards you.

“I’ll walk with you,” he says, following you into the corridor.

You walk in silence, not that it’s weird or anything. You and Jimin have reached that point in a friendship where you don’t have to fill the silence to be comfortable around each other. You could be in the same room, doing completely different things, not talking at all, and still, you wouldn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

Once you reach both of your rooms, as they are right across from one another, you ready to say goodnight when Jimin interrupts you.

“Ah, wait…” he stops you just as you reach for your doorknob and you turn around. “What is it?”

He sighs before, “look, I know you know Hoseok didn’t mean any of that but I also know words tend to get into your head…” he begins, voice gentle and eyes cautious on you as you fidget on your spot uncomfortably.

“And I just want to say-”

“What?” you cut him off with a tired sigh, “everything will turn out okay? That suddenly I’m gonna be blessed with divine inspiration when I least expect it?” you give him a weak smile, crossing your hands on your chest.

What you don’t expect is Jimin to laugh. “No, no, all of that is just a pile of crap!” he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“I wanted to say that whatever goes through that little mind of yours shouldn’t keep you from writing. That’s what you do, you write! And, yeah, some of it may come out as complete bullshit, but that’s just how it has to go before you get better,” he says simply, voice filled to the brim with honesty and you rest your eyes at your feet, suddenly feeling very self-aware.

“Because I know you’re gonna get better. You just need a push,” he finally smiles softly at you, warmness spreading through your heart as if his smile is a portable heater, radiating warmth to the people closest to it.

“Thanks…” you mumble back, letting your eyes find him to truly express how thankful you are.

You aren’t good with expressing your feelings, not when it’s not on top of a piece of paper. Everyone knows this, Jimin even more so. You know you don’t have to say anything for him to understand how you truly feel.

And so he smiles back and nods as if to say “you’re welcome”.

And for a few moments, you stay like that. Both of you leaning on your doors, staring at each other as another silence fills the corridor.

But this one is different. Still comfortable but there’s something else hanging in the air. It’s the way you look at each other, basking in each other’s presence, comfortable and not ready to say goodnight yet.

It’s the way Jimin’s looking at you. Smile slightly fading as his eyes remain on your face, ever serious, ever intense as if they’re saying something his lips can’t, something you can’t quite understand, something that makes you feel-

Jimin breaks the stuffed silence with a shake of his head. “Anyways, um… goodnight, Y/N…” he says, voice thick with something and his words seem to revive you as well as he opens the door to quickly go into his room.

“Ah, yeah, goodnight, Jimin,” you reply casually before you enter your bedroom and close the door behind you.

That felt… weird.

As much as you try to put a name to what you felt out there, you can’t. The situation felt too foreign, too much for your drunk mind to comprehend.

You shake your head, passing it off to the many beers you had and without giving it much of another thought you go to sleep.

.

.

Although, three weeks pass after that talk and you still can’t get it out of your mind.

You figured you would’ve forgotten about it by now, blaming it on the amount of alcohol you had consumed that night but no. Those last few moments before you parted in the middle of your hallway still linger in the crevices of your mind, not unlike a bunch of vultures scavenging for prey.

Even now, at Seokjin’s birthday party, it’s all you can think about instead of paying attention to the birthday boy himself and the subject of your affections. If he even knew you weren’t focusing on him on his own birthday party he would flip.

Did Jimin want to say something to you? It seemed so but since then he’s made no indication as to show he wants to talk to you. It’s been three weeks and there was no other talk of that weird conversation outside your bedrooms. No sign that it ever happened. You wonder what was going through his mind at that time. You wonder what he’s thinking about it now, if he even thinks about it still like you.

“Earth to Y/N! Hello?” a floating hand breaks your inner monologue, Ana looking at you with scrunched eyebrows and a glare to match. The two of you are currently alone amidst the crowd of partygoers as Ana dragged you aside to excitedly tell you about the amazing anniversary Hoseok had planned for them, last Saturday. You guess you lost focus somewhere in the middle.

“What?” your voice gets defensive and Ana’s glare seems more intimidating as seconds pass by.

“You stopped listening!” she slaps you lightly on the arm and a yelp comes out of your lips as a form of protest.

“I didn’t!” you try to defend your guilty self as you rub the afflicted spot.

“Yeah, no, I thought so at first “Y/N would never just stop listening” so I started casually throwing Seokjin’s name into the conversation, that always worked like a charm to get you to focus, but you still didn’t listen!” she retaliates and you shrink back in shame.

“Sorry…” you mumble in all honesty, biting your lip in embarrassment. “But I heard the most important parts!” you perk up, “And the whole concert then cooking at home date idea was really insightful and cute! And full disclosure, if I hadn’t interfered and let Hoseok listen to Seokjin, you would’ve ended up at a screening of cats!” you shake your finger at her and she giggles out loud.

“Although I gotta admit, Hoseok cleaned up really well on its own…” you smile at her and she nods with a dreamy sigh before taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh, and you have to thank me for stopping Hoseok from using his “free Hoseok love” coupon as a gift.”

Ana’s eyes widen in grave seriousness. “Oh, he did use that…”

You wince at that. “Oh god, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t fret too much about it, he also bought me that cute pair of boots I wanted!” she pats you on the back before she bites her lip as a child that’s about to get scolded, “~and… I also kind of enjoyed it…” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes at your friend.

“The leather ones that were really expensive?” she had rumbled over the course of a week about how she fell in love with those boots but their relationship would’ve never worked (in simpler words she couldn’t afford them).

She nods at you. “Marry him,” you respond with urgency and Ana laughs at you.

But as her giggles die down her face turns solemn once more.

“Are you okay though? It’s not like you to not pay attention, even more so when it’s about Seokjin…” she says with a chuckle at the end, yet her eyes remain cautious and you sigh.

“Yeah, it’s just that Jimin-”

“Y/N, wait… I’m sorry but you do realise that I was talking about Seokjin, right?” her stare is a bit weirded out, “and that we’re currently at his birthday party and you choose to hang out with me instead of talking to him?” she skillfully observes, making you feel uncomfortable at how her words trigger something you haven’t acknowledged before and you’re certainly not ready to do so now.

You shrug. “I guess I don’t know what to say…” you choose to say instead, hoping it’s enough of an excuse to get out of this conversation.

“What do you mean? You never had a problem with that before…” she counters, genuinely confused at your bizarre behaviour and you press your lips in a tight line as you shrug once more, not really knowing how to address that.

At your hesitation to breach the subject, something seems to click in Ana’s mind and she sighs in realization.

“Can I tell you what I think without you getting all grumpy and defensive?” she asks, eyes careful and hands in the air as if to pacify you. You shrug again, albeit a bit curious about what she has to say.

“I don’t think you really like Seokjin- ah, ah! Let me finish!” she shushes you when you begin protesting, “I mean not anymore, it was pretty obvious you were crazy into him when I first met you but now…” she takes a breath, eyes looking at you wearily as she prepares for the finishing blow, “now I think you cling into the idea of liking him because it’s comfortable. Because it’s easier to fall back into the safety net of liking someone and not doing anything about it than making yourself deal with the fear and uncertainty that comes with meeting someone new.”

Your cheeks flush as you stare at her, feeling vulnerable as if someone cut you open and went through your most inner thoughts, even when you feel like there’s something else that neither you nor she hasn’t been able to pinpoint.

Ana’s observation finally put what you’ve been feeling for a while into words. You haven’t realized it but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.

And yet you still stubbornly act like it’s not the case at all.

“I… I’m not afraid to meet new people…” your protest is as weak as your voice and Ana looks at you unimpressed and thoroughly unconvinced.

“Really? Then you’ll have no problem talking to Seokjin’s friend from high school,” she points at the tall, blond hunk with the glasses and the cute dimples currently chatting with Seokjin.

“Namjoon?! Are you nuts?! He’s way out of my league!” you screech in panic. Namjoon is a sight to be held and in your opinion, people should pay to see him up close. Would that be considered a fucked up way of prostitution? You’re not sure.

Ana rolls her eyes. “First of all, “leagues” aren’t a thing and second of all, you’re totally scared boo!” she says plainly with a victorious grin and you flinch instinctively.

“I’m not! I just don’t have time for a relationship!” you say, still trying to get out of this conversation even though Ana doesn’t seem at all deterred.

“No one talked about a relationship, you baboon, it could be just sex. But, out of simple curiosity, how long has it been since you had sex? Seven, eight months?” she retaliates, in all ways but physical backing you up into a corner.

You groan, hiding your flaming face behind your hands.

“This is the perfect opportunity to hook up with someone and never having to talk to them again for the rest of your life. No strings attached, no awkward first dates, no phone calls. Just one night of drunken sex to get you to relax a bit and who knows? Maybe it’ll help you get your inspiration back,” she concludes with a tilt of her head. And the more you think about it, the more you realize she’s right about everything. About Seokjin, about using him as a distraction, about needing to relax and this being the perfect opportunity for it. It’s been a while since you’ve felt any sort of attraction for Seokjin. No excitement or accelerated heartbeat, no sweaty hands, no unbearable giddiness when he decides to throw a visit.

You guess somewhere along the way those feelings faded out, giving place to the love and comfort that comes out of a years-long friendship. You’re not attracted to him anymore.

And Ana’s suggestion does seem kind of appealing. You suppose some sex would help you get rid of all the nerves that come with writing a book.

And Namjoon is kinda hot. Okay, scratch “kinda”, “unbearably hot” is more fitting.

You just worry if he’ll able to surpass the last time you had sex. For some reason, you’re almost convinced he won’t.

“Okay, you’re right, I’ll do it,” at that Ana squeals and claps her hands happily.

“But I have to talk to Seokjin first,” you continue, resulting in a confused expression masking Ana’s face.

“What? Why?”

You shrug. “I spent those four years crushing on him, I feel like I need some kind of closure,” you chuckle and Ana stares at you dumbfounded before she shakes her head.

“Fine, do what you have to, but don’t take too long! Namjoon is like a walking modelling billboard, most of the people in this party have their eyes on him. Boy, if I wasn’t dating Hoseok would we be doing things right now…” she reveals as she stares at the man in question while biting her lip and you stare at her disapprovingly.

“What? I said if,” she says as if abdicating all blame and you shake your head at her with a laugh. Hoseok wouldn’t mind and to be honest they’d probably be talking about how to convince Namjoon for a threesome.

“Okay, I’m going, wish me luck,” you announce as you begin making your way towards Seokjin.

“What you need is alcohol, not luck,” Ana yells at you as she goes to find her boyfriend and you give her one last smile before turning your attention to the birthday boy.

Only now realizing what you’re about to do and, great, your hands are trembling. Maybe you did need some alcohol.

But it’s too late to make a run for it when Seokjin spots you and a smile graces his lips.

“Y/N! Come over here! You know Namjoon right?” he rushes to include you into the conversation, eyes wide with hidden meaning as he nudges you towards Namjoon and the man with the dimples smiles at you.

“Ah, yeah, we’ve met before. How are you?” you smile back at him and the longer he smiles, the deeper his dimples become and the more adorable he is.

“Can’t complain. How about you?” he chuckles, the sound almost illegal, as he pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Oh, right, he also has a deep and mellifluous voice. How is this man not famous for something?

“Pretty well I’d say. Um, do you mind if I steal the birthday boy for a bit? There’s something I need to talk to him about…” your hand is already dragging a confused Seokjin away, even if you’d rather be doing that to the other boy.

Namjoon blinks at you, as perplexed as Seokjin before “Ah, yeah, sure…”

“Thanks!” you yell over the music, although you’re sure the man mustn’t have heard you as you’re already making your way down the corridor towards the back of Seokjin’s apartment.

“Ugh, Y/N? What’s going on?” Seokjin’s voice is beyond weirded out as you finally reach his bedroom, that’s off-limits for the party. You push him in and close the door behind you.

“Sorry, I just needed some privacy for what I’m about to do…” you admit with shaking hands as Seokjin’s eyes widen in fear and confusion.

You take a breath before fixing your posture and stare bravely at the man in front of you. “This may come as a shock to you but I…” you take one final breath, “I used to like you-” you begin, dreading the moment Seokjin decides this is too odd for him.

“I know.”

Seokjin’s voice takes you by surprise as your mind processes the words that just left his mouth, a different kind of dread overwhelming you.

He knows?

“What? What do you mean you know?” your voice comes out offended, as Seokjin puts down his drink with a sigh and turns to look at you.

“I mean I know. You weren’t exactly subtle with the stares and all…” he comments calmly although your mouth falls open to join your feet at the ground at the absurdity of the situation.

He knows. All this time, he knew?!

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” you throw the words at him accusingly and he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you! I figured since you hadn’t said anything that you didn’t want to act on it so I never said anything either!” he defends himself, voice high-pitched in true Seokjin fashion.

“Oh my god, that’s so embarras- Wait,” you cut yourself when his words strike you as odd and another thought makes itself known in your mind. “You mean that if I had said something…?” you look at him weirdly and Seokjin sighs, eyes already confirming your suspicions.

“I might… not have said no to a date…” he admits, scratching his ears and your mouth drops open.

You could have dated the Kim Seokjin and you didn’t because you were too scared to make a move?

Wow, your past-self would be seriously pissed at you.

Seokjin rushed to explain. “But that was back then when I didn’t know you that well!”

You gasp at the offence, crossing your arms on your chest. “You mean now that you do know me, I'm not that dateable, Kim Seokjin?!”

He groans, rubbing a palm over his face. “I just meant that back then I was willing to risk our friendship because we weren’t that close in the first place! But now we’ve been friends for almost half a decade and even though you are extremely dateable” he says with a roll of his eyes but you’re still satisfied, “I just can’t see you in that way. And even if I did I wouldn’t be willing to risk our friendship over something like that,” he concludes with a sigh.

“Oh,” you reply simply, satisfied with his answer before you continue.

“Well, that’s good actually, because I just wanted to tell you that whatever those feelings were… they’re gone now. So I just… wanted to come clean I guess…” you admit softly, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

“So, we’re okay?” Seokjin asks with hope and you smile, lightly punching his arm. You find yourself relieved after Seokjin’s confession and you know you’ll be fine.

“We’re okay,” you nod and Seokjin smiles back.

“That punch was lame,” he retorts and you gasp. “Do you want me to punch you for real, you masochist?”

His smile widens. “No, you freak of nature, I want a hug!”

Immediately, you begin protesting. “No, no, no, no, no. No hugs, you know this!” you begin moving away from him as he comes closer with a predatory grin. You absolutely hate hugs. They’re unnecessary long and intimate, you never know where to put your hands and you always end up having someone’s hair in your mouth.

Seokjin pouts as he nearly chases you into the hallway. “Come on, I just found out I’m not your crush anymore! Do you know how much of a hit is that to my ego!?” he says, standing in front of you, effectively blocking your way to freedom.

You sigh, already regretting, the words you’re about to say but seeing no other way out.

“Fine, but you have to promise me to not tell anyone! I have a reputation to upkeep!” you yield, shaking a threatening finger at him but his grin only grows bigger.

“Deal!” he squeals, eager to grasp this rare chance of affection from you, seeing as he has tried numerous times to get a hug from you but being unsuccessful. Till now that is.

His hands wrap around you in a soul and bone-crushing hug as your arms end up being squished between your bodies. You try to control the smile on your lips as you struggle to break your arms free and wrap them around his impossibly wide shoulders. Actually, this doesn’t feel so bad. It feels like being enveloped in a giant, fuzzy blanket. If that blanket had an unquenchable thirst for strawberry shortcakes.

A few moments pass before you begin to pull back. “Okay, you giant carebear, that’s enough,” you giggle as Seokjin retracts his hands.

“Now, wasn’t that refreshing?”

“If I let you know, I’ll have to kill you,” you mumble fixing your clothes and Seokjin’s trademark laugh echoes throughout the corridor, making your smile grow.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he throws you a cheeky wink.

You shake your head at him with a laugh before another thought crosses your mind and you bite your lip. “So… about Namjoon…”

Seokjin’s mind instantly follows your train of thought but he lets out a surprising -to say the least- groan. “Seriously?”

You find his reaction a bit too odd for your liking. “Why?”

“Uhm, you dragged me away to my bedroom at my own birthday party. He probably thinks we jumping uglies right now,” he fixes you with a disappointed stare. Fuck, you didn’t think of that.

You grunt in frustration. “Great, now what?”

Seokjin’s eyes glint when he comes up with yet another brilliant idea. “If we split we’ll find him faster!” he exclaims enthusiastically and your eyes widen.

“Genius thinking!” you declare before you sprint down the hallway, the both of you looking for Namjoon.

.

.

You would think it would be easy finding Namjoon in an apartment as small as Seokjin’s. But it’s not. It’s anything but.

When you finally do find him after almost 40 minutes looking for his perfect ass, it’s with his mouth stuck against another person’s neck so any hopes for a one-night-stand are going down the drain. So instead you resort to drinking the rest of Seokjin’s sparkling rosé collection until you have to pee your weight in alcohol.

You abandon the living room where the party is still going strong, in search of the holy grail that is Seokjin’s bathroom right now, hoping you get to relieve your misery.

But as you approach the door, you fail to register the voices coming from inside. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to live through the impending embarrassment.

Instead, you bust the door open in your haste to pee, but all of that goes to shit once you see Jimin inside the bathroom. Or, more precisely, Jimin’s mouth sucking on the pulse of some blonde’s girl neck -who feels oddly familiar- like he’s a fucking vampire.

Your eyes widen, meeting with fear Jimin’s livid ones before “OhmygodImsorrypretendthisneverhappened!” you yell in one breath, anxious to get out of there as fast as possible and before Jimin gets the chance to curse at you, you close the door and disappear down the hallway.

Ugh, oh my god, why are you so awkward?

You rub your hands on your face as you walk down the corridor, wondering where you’re supposed to pee now. Couldn’t they bone at Seokjin’s room? 

Though, among your thoughts emerges one particular one that makes you stop dead in your tracks as you finally realize why that girl seemed familiar.

She wasn’t just some random girl. No, she was a very specific blonde girl, one that happens to be the pure personification of evil on the face of the earth, one that you’re sure hides horns beneath that perfect hair.

Jimin’s ex, the girl who manipulated and abused him repeatedly, the girl who broke up with him nearly a year ago to be with someone else, after he caught her cheating. The girl who broke his heart.

Dinah.

Fuck.

.

.

You remember the first time you met Dinah, although she hadn’t left any particular impression on you. She was a high school friend of Taehyung, with whom Seokjin shared some classes with and were kinda close. It was your fourth year in college when Taehyung was still hanging with you guys before he found a job opportunity overseas and left. Now he texts every now and then or visits even more rarely.

Seokjin’s birthday party is one of those rare visits, hence why Dinah was also present last night.

The first time you met her, almost two years ago, was in a scheduled study group in one of the local cafes. It was you, Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok and Dinah, most of the guys, studying to prepare for their last year through college and Ana couldn’t make it so honestly, you were relieved you had another girl to go through together the boys’ antics.

Although if Ana was there, she would’ve probably spent all of her time being coupley with Hoseok and that kinda defeats the purpose.

Dinah was studying for a math exam and Jimin had offered to help her since she wasn’t very good at it. You didn’t think much of it, mind already going haywire over your new novel idea so you didn’t really pay much attention to anyone.

It had been when Jimin left for the bathroom when you saw her scrolling through her phone that you decided to help her with a problem even Jimin couldn’t quite get.

Only her reaction was a tad bit different then what you’d expected. She had interrupted you even before you got to tell her you wanted to help, with a kinda sharp tone saying she didn’t need your help. You had backed off then, kinda bummed out about it but you could already tell she was into Jimin and wanted his help specifically.

But as you had turned to pay attention back to your novel, your gaze couldn’t help but fall on her open notebook. And there it was, in a hidden corner of the page in messy scribblings the solution to the problem. Her handwriting.

You didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t your cup of tea to hide your intellect to raise the ego of the boy you were into and besides feeling a bit sad for her, you didn’t do anything else. Who were you to judge?

It wasn’t until the two of them started going out that you started feeling some sort of dislike towards her. And not just you, the rest of the group as well.

It was obvious to everyone how shitty she treated Jimin. At first, of course, there were no signs as if to warn you of Dinah's manipulative nature, they were still in the lovey-dovey, honeymoon phase. But as time passed, Dinah’s facade began to crumble. Jimin’s interaction with the opposite sex were limited due to Dinah’s extreme jealousy, which meant you and Ana barely got to be around him, let alone talk to him. Her snide comments and judgey behaviour made him feel inadequate over everything. How he got her the wrong gift, how the movie he chose was stupid, how the restaurant he picked was disgusting, and the list goes on and on.

At first, Jimin tried to talk to her about those things, certain she would understand what she was doing once he’d brought it up. But when you’re in love it’s easier to ignore all the red flags. It’s easier to blame yourself for everything when you can see no fault in the person you’re in love with.

Soon the relationship turned toxic. Dinah became similar to a parasite, sucking the life and happiness out of Jimin, as he fell prey to her every whim. Making him even more insecure in himself when she knew he already had some issues he was trying to work on. But that didn’t deter her. Instead, it gave her leverage, to use all the ugly, little things Jimin thought of himself against him.

At some point, it had gotten so bad Jimin refused to eat.

It was then that all of you tried to intervene.

Unsuccessfully that is.

It had gotten pretty ugly in the span of a few minutes with how angry you and Hoseok were at Dinah and at Jimin’s unwavering loyalty to her. Soon it had become a yelling match between the three of you as Seokjin and Ana had tried to bring some sense to all of you. In retrospect, none of you handled the delicate situation well.

In the end, Jimin had stormed out of the apartment, furious at all four of you, to go to Dinah or to the only one that got him as he had put it.

Only to find her in bed with someone else.

He had come home hours later, stinking of alcohol, telling you what had happened through red eyes, tear-stained cheeks and hiccups.

You had put him to sleep and the next morning Dinah was breaking up with him over the phone.

The next few months were awful. But he survived them. He survived and realised he deserved better, not this hell Dinah made him go through. That wasn’t love.

After all of you encouraged him to talk to someone about everything, Jimin went to a therapist and he came out stronger. Sure, some of the issues were still there but so were the rest of you. He knew you’d be there for him if he ever needed you.

That’s why you’re so pissed this morning.

Ana and Hoseok look at you like you’re a ticking bomb about to explode at any minute from the other side of the kitchen island as you munch on your cereal and send death glares at Dinah, currently sitting on Jimin’s lap on the dining table.

If only “death glare” was a bit more literal.

You can’t understand Jimin. He was supposed to be over this. Doesn’t he remember what she did to him, how miserable he was?

“I haven’t seen you staring so long at something since that time you tried to microwave popcorn with your mind,” Ana’s hushed whispers reach you as not to alert the couple and Hoseok almost sputters out his milk.

“Did it work, though?” Hoseok’s eyes stare at her expectantly and you roll your eyes.

“Not gonna dignify that with a response,” is her cryptic answer.

“Seriously, am I the only one who’s pissed over this?” you say through gritted teeth, the happy couple wholly oblivious to your little conversation. Ana and Hoseok seem too calm, given you have a fucking demon at your dining table.

Ana sighs. “We are too, Y/N, but let’s face it, what can we do about it?”

You look at her in disbelief. “Talk to him?!”

“Yeah, and look at how that worked out last time…”

“They broke up.”

“After he caught her cheating…” her words are slow as if talking to a child, “and it wasn’t even him who initiated the break-up! If Jimin wants to be with her we just have to accept it and be there for him if something happens again,” she concludes, taking a sip of her coffee and you can’t believe your ears. She can’t be serious.

“Hoseok, what’s your say in this?” you ask, rather loudly might you add, so you steal a glance making sure Jimin hasn’t heard.

Hoseok shrugs in answer to your question. “We all know she was the devil incarnate. But maybe she changed. Let’s give her a chance.”

Your mouth hangs open when your last possible ally walks over to enemy territory. “Give her a chance? She’s not Andrew Garfield in the Amazing Spiderman!”

Ana’s expression gives away her utter bafflement. “I have so many questions…”

You shrug. “Everyone hates him but I think he was a great Spiderman.”

Hoseok’s incredulous stare doesn’t last for long. “Anyways, all I’m saying is Jimin went through a lot…”

“So he should know better!” you retort.

Hoseok doesn’t seem amused, “So there must be something that changed his mind! He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. If he gave her a second chance, so should we.”

Ana nods at her boyfriend’s words and they both return their eyes on you, waiting for confirmation of your part that you’re gonna be nice.

You regard them with an ominous glare, “Traitors…” you mumble before you groan. “Fine. But I’m gonna be watching her every move. Like an owl!”

“I’m fairly positive it’s supposed to be “like a hawk”...?” a confused pout takes over Hoseok’s lips.

Ana chuckles, “It is “like a hawk”.”

Your confusion is evident. “Really? But owls are nocturnal animals, therefore have better eyesight!”

Ana rolls her eyes at you, tired of all the bird talk. “Even so! Please promise you’ll behave!”

You take a deep breath when a shrill laugh echoes throughout the apartment and you can already feel yourself fuming.

“I promise.”

.

.

After the two “lovebirds” have left your apartment for an impromptu date, which the declaration of had you nearly barfing on sight, you crawled back into your room, in search of inspiration, daring to take another shot at your mostly unfinished novel.

You gather your hair up in a messy bun, glasses on top of your nose, iced coffee next to your papers, preparations all ready to freely embark on the raging seas of creativity.

If writing a novel was that easy.

After writing another three chapters, well after the sun has settled in the horizon and your eyes are barely keeping themselves open, a knock thrums against your door. But before you get to reply, the door creaks open and Ana pops up behind it, walking in with observing eyes and a bag of cheddar-flavoured chips.

“Why do you even bother knocking?” you sigh, taking off your glasses to rub your exhausted eyes.

“The knock is a warning, not a request for entry,” she plops on your bed with a smile, crossing her legs on your duvet and pats the space next to her. 

It’s not uncommon to have Ana spending the entire day here, after all, she is one of your closest friends, an elementary part of your group and Hoseok’s girlfriend.

You get up from your desk, limbs aching for the various positions your body has been in the midst of writing, and with a tired smile you sit down next to her.

“No luck with the book still?” she asks, passing you the chips and you hum appreciatively, your tongue already tasting the divine taste of those chips.

“Well, I’ve written some stuff… just not any particularly good stuff,” you munch through the snack with a grubbled noise of satisfaction and Ana nods in understanding at your words, “and honestly that whole “Dinah” thing is infuriatingly distracting! I’m still pissed and I can’t even stop thinking about it.”

“Wait…” Ana interrupts you and if her face says anything is that she just came to a sudden realization. One she doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy.

“Are you sure this isn’t because of…?” her words hang in the air as she regards you with careful eyes, waiting for you to grasp the meaning between her words.

Though you’re none the wiser. “Because of…?” your utter obliviousness is infuriating and Ana groans, rubbing her palms on her face, pinning you with a ridiculous look.

Right then, it’s as if a moment of clarity strikes you and you finally understand what she means.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“What? Ew, no! Why would you even think that?!” you immediately protest, entirely disgusted by the mere notion of what Ana is implying.

She doesn’t seem at all bothered by your extreme reaction. “I’m just saying, it happened!”

“Yeah, eight months ago!” she can’t be serious. There’s no way she actually believes that.

She cocks an eyebrow. “It was also the last time you had sex.”

You let an exhale drop from your lips, as you take a trip down memory lane, all the way back to eight months ago.

It was April, four months or so after Dinah had broken up with Jimin, leaving him a complete wreckage in her absence. It became a group activity, trying to get Jimin back on his feet. Making sure he ate, taking him outside for some fresh air, helping him get out of his funk.

One night, you took him out for drinks in a bar close to home, to help him get over her through alcohol and hopefully some meaningless sex with a stranger. And Although both of those things happened, it wasn’t a stranger lending him a helping hand that night. Or a helping mouth if you want to be accurate.

You had woken up the next morning in his bed due to the unsettling feeling of dread curling in the pit of your stomach. What the hell were you thinking? What if this changed everything? You were best friends and roommates, what now?

But when Jimin woke up, everything seemed to be back to normal. You were relieved things didn’t become weird, his words immediately putting a rest to your worries over your possibly ruined friendship, joking lightly about the whole thing and how the others might react to the whole incident. It wasn’t a big deal because you never let it become one. It was but one night of mindless sex, one that left you both satiated and you could both agree it meant nothing. Jimin just needed some rebound sex and you… well, it had been a while. And you had needs.

Although you did get a lot of teasing from the rest of the group for the next few weeks. That wasn’t anything fond to remember, especially when you were still thinking you were into Seokjin and he had a large part in said teasing.

But that was in the past. You never felt anything for Jimin in the first place.

“It’s not that, okay? She’s just an awful person and I don’t want to even think about the consequences of her doing Jimin dirty again,” your calm voice and demeanour finally convince Ana as she lets out a relieved breath.

“Okay, good. Got scared there for a second, things could get really messy,” she admits with a small smile.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If anything that’s the least of your worries right now,” you say munching on some more chips as you eye the clock on your wall.

Ana looks at you perplexed. “What do you mean?”

You press your lips together. “Hoseok is alone in his room right?”

Ana looks even more baffled now, not sure where you’re going with this. “Yeah…?”

You press your lips in a tight line. “It’s 10 o’clock…” you relay, a sense of urgency in your voice.

Ana’s eyes widen. Hoseok’s latest obsession is watching Glee reruns on TV, which wouldn’t be that bad if he didn’t insist on singing every episode’s songs for the remainder of the week.

‘You can still stop him if you run…” you offer and Ana is immediately off your bed.

“Hoseok put down the remote!” she yells, running out of your room, down into the living room as you giggle and munch on the chips she left behind.

Your mind travels back to Ana’s worries about your feelings but you laugh them off.

You and Jimin? The entire idea is utterly ridiculous. He’s your best friend, you could never look at him that way.

Although, you too can admit he can be a sexy piece of ass when he wants to.

With a sigh, you throw the empty bag of chips on the floor and get under your covers, your mind too tired out to continue writing.

You just hope this thing with Dinah is only temporary. How long can a fling last when you already know the bad side of your lover?

.

.

When another week passes and they’re still going strong with no prospects of a breakup anywhere on the horizon, you realize it can be long.

Very long.

You wake up each day to giggles, picking thrown out clothes off the couch, listening to their yucky canoodling as they insist on making out on every surface of the apartment like a bunch of delinquents. While the rest of you are still present!

You swear if you hear another one of her obnoxious laughs you’re gonna drive a glass dildo through your ear canals to stop yourself from hearing altogether.

“I can’t take this anymooooore…” Hoseok whines quietly as you, he and Seokjin are crammed in the two-seat couch, while the lovebirds currently occupy the entirety of the big sofa.

It’s not that there’s no space for you to sit there as well. More like their insistent snogging effectively grosses the rest of you away.

“Me neither, but what can we do?” Seokjin whispers back while shuffling on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position and instead, managing to elbow both you and Hoseok in the process as an episode of Brooklyn 99 plays on the TV.

At the other side of the coffee table, Ana smiles triumphantly at you as she crosses her legs on top of the only armchair in the room. She was faster than the rest of you, that mean son of a bitch.

Hoseok squints at her with hatred before leaning in to whisper. “Is it wrong that I’m turned on by how mean she looks?”

Both yours and Seokjin’s protests of disgust are immediate.

“Lower the tent you perv,” Seokjin makes a face.

“Too late, this tent is the sturdiest thing ever built. I mean it’s so strong, so efficient, this stick is never gonna go down-”

“Okay, we have to do something or else I’m gonna finally kill Hoseok. After all those years of putting up with his weird sexual energy… this is gonna be the last straw,” your serious eyes turn to Seokjin to stress out the gravity of the situation.

Hoseok giggles mischievously and Seokjin sighs almost like he’s on auto-pilot. “Okay, okay, what do you propose?”

Hoseok pulls a face. “Really? That’s what convinces you? I’m hurt and as your friend of nearly four years I won’t stand for this kind of dishonour of my name!”

You both stare at Hoseok for a minute, no reaction whatsoever.

“Okay, I have a plan,” you ignore Hoseok in favour of turning to Seokjin and Hoseok groans, mumbling a grumpy “fake friends”.

“For the last time, Y/N, I refuse to be involved in your -honestly frightening- lust for murder,” Seokjin gives you the stink eye.

You gasp, offended. “I never said anything about murder!” you exclaim and Seokjin’s shoulders drop, looking somewhat remorseful.

You bite your lip though, knowing full well he’s not gonna like this suggestion either. “I just said we could sedate her and put her in Jimin's room.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, entirely disappointed but not surprised. “No.”

“Why? It’s a win-win situation! We don’t get to hear her and the couch is free!” you protest but Seokjin’s eyebrow raises.

“How’s that a win-win situation?”

“It’s a win-win situation for us! None of the wins is for her,” you shrug before Seokjin flicks you in the forehead and you yelp in pain.

The sound somehow alerts the couple and they both stop kissing to look over to the three of you weirdly. You and the boys immediately stop talking, trying to look as inconspicuous as ever. Which only makes you look even more suspicious.

“You guys okay there?” Jimin asks, voice questioning and wary.

All three of you smile at the same time, which honestly gives you a creepy “Stepford Wives” vibe, and you speak up when an idea pops into your head.

“Yeah, it’s just that this couch is kinda um… small for the three of us. But we’re fine!” you feel Seokjin staring at you wildly and you discreetly nudge him to play along.

Jimin’s face falls. “Oh, I didn’t realize! Some of you can come sit here.”

“Oh, no!” Seokjin waves his hands dismissively, “You guys seem really cosy there, we don’t want to ruin that!” he says, finally following your line of thought and you nod quickly as if to agree with him.

“Ah…” Jimin replies, voice soft and a second passes where his face hardens. But then it’s gone and he taps his finger on his chin as he thinks it through before-, “Well, you three can sit here and we can sit on the smaller couch if you’d like.”

The three of you are already standing up, ignoring the pout and slightly sharp glare Dinah is giving you.

Suck it up, demoness.

“Well, if you’re sure-”

“We’d really appreciate it-”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest-”

Jimin smiles at you, probably already knowing what’s going on and yet he says nothing, urging Dinah to stand up and follow him on the smaller sofa.

You and the boys fall to the bigger sofa with moans of appreciation, finally free to spread out your limbs without touching each other.

“Oh, yeah… that’s the stuff…” you moan as your arms lie limblessly to your side, not touching Hoseok’s or Seokjin’s for just a few centimetres but even those little centimetres of distance come as a blessing.

Ana chuckles at your antics and Seokjin sends her a glare.

“You don’t have laughing-at-the-rest-of-us rights, anymore, Brutus!” he shakes a finger at her but Ana’s smile doesn’t deteriorate.

“I’d let that Brutus impale me with her blade anytime…” Hoseok adds unnecessarily and you groan.

Jimin takes a pause for having his soul sucked from his mouth from the dementor next to him, to look mildly curious. “How would that even work?” he asks and Dinah looks less than thrilled to not have his whole attention anymore, making you feel somewhat in the mood to gloat.

Ana rushes to explain. “Well, you see it can happen when you have purchased a specific type of-”

Seokjin immediately shuts Ana with his palm over her mouth. “Did you have to ask?!”

Jimin giggles. “I just wanted to know!”

“Yeah, and I wanted to not be traumatized by that image at 8 o’clock on a Thursday night but here we are!” Seokjin interjects and an involuntary laugh escapes your lips before Hoseok joins you.

And then Ana and Jimin do too before Seokjin relents as well at the sound of your laughter and you all end up cackling like maniacs in the middle of your living room.

Well, all except one.

Dinah sighs a little too loud when your giggles don’t seem to die down and she slowly gets off the couch. Her sullen face, an indication she visualised this whole evening to play out a little differently.

“I think I’m gonna head home…” She addresses Jimin and he stands up too.

“Oh, no, so soon?” your sarcasm can’t be helped. Hoseok elbows you in the ribs in return and you just barely conceal your groan.

“Why? Stay a little while longer…” Jimin pouts at her, that one specific pout that makes him seem like a kicked puppy, therefore makes him irresistible to refuse. You purse your lips as you guide your attention to the latest adventures of Jake Peralta but your treacherous ears can’t help but follow the rest of the conversation.

“I can’t. I have to be at the office early tomorrow…” she sounds remorseful as her hands rest on Jimin’s chest. But as said before you’re definitely not looking at them, so you can only guess.

“I’m sure those kids can wait a little- You know what, I felt bad for saying that, so forget I ever did,” Jimin says quickly as he circles his hands around her waist. Again you guess.

Ah, yeah, you forgot to mention. Dinah is a damn paediatrician. How could a person as evil as herself be something in such close proximity to children will forever escape you.

She smiles at him before- “Buut… you can come over instead if you’d like…” she says in a low voice and your eyes widen. You drag them away before Jimin’s surprised ones find you.

He can’t do that! Well, obviously, he can but Jimin wouldn’t do that to you-.

“Actually I promised Y/N we’d watch Space Jam tonight…” he tells her somewhat apologetically but still you feel relieved. Watching Space Jam is kind of a tradition between the two of you. It was a favourite movie of both, a feel-good movie if you will and long ago you’d promised each other that when things got rough for one or the other and you needed a little pick-me-up, you’d watch the movie together. You didn’t have to say anything else, just ask if the other one wanted to see the movie. And whatever the two of you had planned instead didn’t matter, you were always there when the other needed you.

You asked him this time. Your novel wasn’t going that well and some serious doubts over your writing skills had plagued your mind. You needed a getaway. And you weren’t about to let her get that away from you.

“Oh… okay…” she responds, face crestfallen and sad eyes looking at her feet and you almost scowl. She’s doing this on purpose! She knows it’s a tradition between the two of you and by acting like this she hopes Jimin will bail out on you.

Well, joke’s on her, because that won’t work on-.

“But, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind if we do that some other time!”

You freeze. Did he just-? No, Jimin wouldn’t. But the smile on his lips, so hopeful, says otherwise.

You can feel everyone staring at you, waiting for an answer. Do they seriously expect you to be fine with this?! Jimin knows how much this means to you, what it exactly means about your state of mind right now! Is he seriously about to blow you off?!

Ana is staring at you with alarm, sensing you’re about to explode, warning you against it. She knows it’ll just hurt Jimin and you know that too, but what about you?

You ignore her stare, opening your mouth to give a piece of your mind when you meet Jimin’s eyes.

There’s no sign of ulterior motives in their familiar brown, just expectation as your best friend waits for the answer. You forget what you wanted to say and you just stare back. Why is it so damn difficult to say no to him?

A few seconds pass and Jimin, having sensed your hesitation, opens his mouth with a sigh. “Nevermind, we can just-”

“It’s fine! You can go!” you exclaim surprising everyone including yourself. Jimin turns to look at you flabbergasted but you just smile at him. You don’t know what drove you to do that. You just couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in his voice while knowing you’re the one causing it.

“Are you sure…?” his voice is cautious, not wanting to go if it means it’ll get you even a little bit uncomfortable. Sweet Jimin, always thinking about others’ feelings. You smile again to spare his feelings, disregarding completely your own.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply and the sweetest smile takes over his lips, making all of this seem worth it.

“Great! Thank you!” he says, rushing to press a quick kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise before turning to Dinah, “Just lemme grab some stuff,” he disappears down the hall into his room.

He reappears a few minutes later with a small bag over his shoulders, the smile still present on his lips.

“Ready to go?” Dinah asks as Jimin gives her a peck on the cheek and nods.

“See you tomorrow, guys. Y/N, again thank you,” he waves at all of you and flashes you a smile. You smile back, waving as well as he exits the apartment first.

Dinah though stops before walking out the door and then she turns to you with a grateful smile.

“Y/N, thanks for that, I knew he wasn’t gonna come if you weren’t okay with it. And I’m sorry for stealing him away. Have a good night,” she addresses you before moving to exit the apartment.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome…” you reply and as soon as the door closes behind her you continue, “...you little bitch!” you move wildly to get out of the couch after her at that blatant display of her having Jimin wrapped around her little finger, while Hoseok and Seokjin are immediately trying to hold you back.

She did that on purpose! She knew what that movie represented, she just wanted to spite you! You don’t care how sincere she looked, she did that on purpose!

“Hey, hey, calm down, they’re gone!” Ana steps in front of you to calm you down and slowly your breaths even out. Your tired limbs fall lifelessly on the couch, not anymore resisting Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s hold.

Once you’ve calmed down, all of them stare at you cautiously. You hate that. You hate the pity in their eyes, you hate how they know exactly how much this hurts you, you hate feeling like you need their help.

You hate feeling vulnerable.

“I’m fine,” you snap, shaking their arms off, even if your own still have a slight tremble and you stand up.

They exchange stares and you press your lips together as you stare at the ceiling. Taking a deliberately slow breath to control your trembling.

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, your tone final, not waiting to hear their responses before you leave the living room for the safety of your own room.

None of them makes an attempt to follow you and you’re grateful for that at least.

You stomp into your room, closing the door loudly before grabbing your laptop and sit on your bed with a huff.

You don’t need Jimin to watch Space Jam and feel good afterwards! It’s the movie that makes you feel okay, not the person you’re watching it with. That’s what you try to convince yourself as you search for the movie on Netflix.

But as you sit there fuming through the first few minutes of the film, you can’t concentrate. You feel pushed aside as if you don’t matter, from none other than your best friend.

You press pause and with a sigh, you push the laptop aside. Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to watch your favourite movie with your best friend, to make jokes and laugh with Bugs Bunny, to feel better for once in the entirety of the last month. To feel comforted and safe in the presence of your best friend instead of moping miserably on top of your bed and feeling worse than before.

Instead, you grab your phone from your nightstand, scrolling through media in a poor attempt to distract yourself.

That’s how you spend your Thursday night and before you realize it you fall asleep with your phone still on your hands.

.

.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” a soft voice brings you back from your slumber and you sleepily open your eyes to see Jimin hunched over you with a small, tender smile.

“What… What time is it?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes and Jimin’s smile widens ever so slightly.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like this…” he responds quietly, urging you to abandon your current sleeping position for one that is more comfortable under the warmth of your covers. You’ve been curled up like a cat next to your laptop that’s still paused on Space Jam.

Jimin’s careful eyes flee to the screen, only for a second before they return to you, ever so gentle.

“Oh, okay then…” you mumble kinda dumbly in your sleep-infused haze and Jimin looks at you expectantly for a moment too long before he pushes you further across the mattress, to leave what you belatedly realize is more space for him.

“Scout over…” he whines, voice still quiet and you look at him perplexed. Why does he wanna sleep here, he has his own bed.

“Why?” you ask, purely confused and not at all hurt by the previous incident as Jimin expected but nonetheless his smile saddens before he stares shyly at your duvet.

“I was thinking, perhaps, we could still see the movie if you’re not too tired…” he mumbles, eyes wide effectively nailing the “puppy stare” he’s infamous for and naturally you find resolve crumbling. The previous anger is long gone when you stare at him so you smile back as you move aside and draw the covers for him to get under.

“Get here, you rascal,” you whisper back and his smile matches yours when he obeys and climbs in, dragging the laptop forward to restart the movie.

The both of you get comfortable against your headboard, Jimin’s arm hanging loosely around your shoulders as you watch Michael Jordan get sucked down a golf hole to the Looney Tune’s world.

The truth is you’re extremely tired and you most probably will fall asleep during the movie but you don’t mind sitting next to Jimin as the movie plays in the background and you bask in his warmth. Because at last, you feel the raging sea of your thoughts subside. Your mind is once again calm and serene, all your worries thrown aside in the favor of this one moment that makes you feel content. 

Ana’s warning faintly echoes through your head but the words are not enough to dampen your mood or make you spend a little more of your focus on them, even though Jimin’s arms feel safe. Feel like home.

A small smile stretches your lips. Even when you feel your eyes heavy with sleep, you still snuggle closer to your best friend.

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

He’s a terrible, terrible friend.

The thought repeats inside the crevices of Jimin’s mind like mockery as he drives. His fingers tap against the leather of the steering wheel impatiently, matching his haywire of thoughts in a weird kind of fucked up way.

He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have made the subtle request in the first place. He knew you needed him, how could he not? It was stupid and selfish of him to leave you behind when you needed him.

But when Dinah gave him a distraction, a way to keep himself occupied… that’s what he wanted. Right? A distraction from everything, something to keep his mind off of things, to keep him from making any mistakes.

But even as he was lying on Dinah’s couch he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how he left you behind in a time he knew was difficult for you just so he can finally breathe freely, focus on something else other than-.

Dinah was good at that. Making him forget.

But as awful of a friend he was, he’s apparently an even worse boyfriend.

When his thoughts got too much to handle, too much for him to ignore and pretend he didn’t feel any remorse for abandoning you, he left Dinah’s with an excuse. It was a stupid one, he knew, she knew but still, she let him go. Because, as much as she made Jimin go through before, she changed. Jimin could recognize that in the way she acted, the way she talked, even the way she kissed him. That’s why he gave her a second chance in the first place.

And then he goes and probably ruins it by being the worst boyfriend. A stupid decision really.

He parks his car in front of their building and he locks with a sigh.

It’s late, too late for you to still be awake. And if you are awake at such an hour, it’ll probably be because you’re writing and you most likely won’t want to be disturbed.

But Jimin can’t help it. His guilt is killing him, eating him up from the inside so he has to at least check.

When he softly taps on your door and gets no reply, he pushes it open.

He finds you fast asleep, curled up on top of your covers, phone still on your hands and laptop still open next to your form.

He smiles softly at the image before he approaches you quietly, taking the phone from your hands to place on your nightstand before he wakes you up.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” he whispers softly, unable to keep the smile away from his lips at your adorable sleeping form. Waking you up is a necessary evil; otherwise, the next morning will consist of your sore muscles and your grumpy behaviour in all its glory.

“What… What time is it?” you ask quite drowsily and Jimin is relieved to see no sign of hurt in your voice. Nothing that exposes any malice or grudge hold against him.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on, get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like that…” Jimin pushes you softly to move under the covers when his eyes find the screen of your laptop.

Paused in the first few minutes of Space Jam.

His chest constricts uncomfortably and he moves his eyes away in shame. The pain in his chest can only feel like a blade has impaled him with all the implications of how much of an awful friend he is. God, great job, Jimin.

But as you move over your mattress and under the covers, completely serene and calm, Jimin decides to make it up to you.

Towards the end of the movie Jimin realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

You’ve been quiet for a while now but it isn’t until he turns to point something out that he realises your eyes are closed.

You’re breathing slowly, snuggled up next to him, face pressed into the pillow as your chest rises and falls ever so gently.

His lips stretch into a smile, pushing a stray hair out of your face. He picks up the duvet to properly cover you and the movement makes you shift closer to him, to press your face on his side as if searching for him even in your sleep.

His smile widens. And then it falls.

God, he wants to-.

He stops the thought before it emerges.

His movements are deliberately slow and as quiet as they can be as he gets out of bed. He closes your laptop, leaving it on top of your desk before he walks to the door.

He stops then. He turns to take one last look at you and then he leaves.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

Next morning you wake up feeling fully rested.

You rub the sleepiness off your eyes before sitting up, hands landing on your soft covers, toes on the cold floor and you wiggle them back to life as you stretch your back with an appreciative moan.

You check your phone for the time, shocked when you find it’s too early for anyone to be awake on a Friday morning and you contemplate diving back into the haven of your covers. But the truth is you don't feel sleepy anymore and you were never the person to loll around in bed either.

So with one last yawn, you put on your slippers and make way to your kitchen. Since you’re the first one up, you could cook breakfast for the boys, reminding them of how much of a good roommate you are and riding them with guilt about the fact both of them haven’t bought any popcorn this last week.

Oh, maybe eggs and bacon? They’d love that! And plus, the tastier the recipe, the more prominent the guilt. You’ll have popcorn to spare for the rest of the year.

But as you make the turn for the kitchen, someone else is already banging pots and whisks in their attempt to concoct a delicious breakfast.

Jimin’s humming some song, whisking some batter as a pan rests on top of the stove, eggs already crackling on top of the boiling oil and the smell fills your nostrils as you get closer. 

Dammit, no free popcorn for you. But at least you won’t have to cook.

“God, that smells amazing…” you comment as you take a seat on the kitchen island and Jimin turns around, eyes wide in reaction to the sudden noise but quickly smirks once it realizes it’s just you.

“Morning to you too,” he chuckles with a roll of his eyes as the whisk never stops moving in his hands. He quickly looks back on the stove when the crackling gets louder and he puts aside the batter with a curse to inspect the eggs.

“Want some help?” you can’t help the soft smile on your face, surprisingly ready to step up and aid his ministrations despite feeling relieved earlier of not having to cook.

He blows a stray hair out of his eyes before he relents. “Please.”

With a giggle, you abandon your spot to help the poor man as Jimin finally finds some time to drink some water. “Where do you want me, chief?” you ask with your hands on your waist.

Jimin chokes on his water, coughing uncontrollably and worry fills you as you’re quick to pat him on the back.

“Hey, easy with the water bud!” you joke and once his coughing stops he gives you a weak smile.

“Got it. Um, you could whisk the batter as I fry the bacon. It needs some more stirring…” he turns to take the done eggs out of the pan, face red from the coughing fit and you mumble a quick confirmation before taking a hold of the whisk.

The kitchen is then filled with the sounds of your whisking and the crackling of the oil in the pan, as Jimin continues humming that unfamiliar song. You gather your hair up in a ponytail to get them out of the way as you continue whisking next to Jimin. It’s been a long time since the two of you have been like this; cooking together, spending time next to one another and still feel close even when you say nothing. The comfortable silence stretches around you as sun rays lighten up the space, hitting at all the right spots to illuminate the two of you.

Your eyes move on their own accord, fleeting to Jimin’s concentrated face as he adds another bacon strip. His brown eyes are focused on the task ahead, eyebrows scrunching whenever a particularly loud crackling sound emerges and your lips move into shaping an involuntarily smile. The sun streams run through his hair, flecks of dust floating in the air around him, almost like a halo, bathing him in an almost ethereal glow. As if you’re his lover and he makes you breakfast after spending the night together, tangled between the sheets.

Your mind short-circuits and you blink when the thought catches up with your reason.

What the fuck was that?

At that moment Jimin leans almost too close to your face, as he ducks to avoid some oil spitting out of the pan.

Your eyes widen at the close proximity and you suck in a breath, realising your mistake as soon as his natural scent infiltrates your lungs.

God, he smells so good. It reminds you of the fresh scent of rain and flowers and something so obviously him.

Jimin leans away immediately and you almost lean forward.

Y/N, what the fuck?

His smile is blinding. “Sorry…” he says before taking out the bacon strips, and you shake your head to get the weird thoughts out of your mind.

“It’s fine…” you mutter, returning your eyes to the batter.

Suddenly very aware of Jimin next to you.

.

.

After you’re done with cooking and putting some aside for Hoseok when he wakes up, the two of you sit down on the kitchen island to finally eat.

“So how did you sleep, Y/N?” Jimin’s voice is coloured with a teasing timbre as he regards you with wiggling eyebrows.

You groan out loud. You remember falling asleep during the movie very clearly and he’s never gonna let you live that down. But you’ll be damned if you let yourself go down without a fight. Or at least bringing him down with you.

“It happened once! Plus I wasn’t the one ditching my best friend to go get laid!” you tease him back, although a bit of your bitterness over last night’s debacle slips through your words, the jab at him a little more serious than you intended at first.

Although your pettiness quickly ebbs away once Jimin’s smile falls and he looks at his plate with a downtrodden face. You suddenly regret saying anything, realising how much of a jerk you’ve been to bring it up when you already decided it wasn’t worth to keep a grudge over. You don’t want to be the reason he looks like this.

“I was just joking, Jimin, I’m not really mad,” you rush to comfort him, placing a tentative hand on top of his palm.

You feel at ease when you don’t feel him pull back. Though a grim sigh rolls off his lips.

“Maybe you aren’t, but that does not make the way I acted last night okay…” he admits, voice low as he rubs the base of his neck with his other hand. He bites his lip in thought and your eyes stick there for a moment before you shake your head back into reasoning.

Thankfully Jimin doesn’t seem to catch up on that. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was a terrible friend. I knew you needed me and I decided to leave. Please forgive me?” he begs with a pleading smile and damn it, it’s difficult to refuse anything to these eyes.

You sigh dramatically, tapping a finger on your chin as you pretend to ponder on it. “Say I do forgive you. How do you plan on replenishing those hours of agony I was forced to spend due to your absence?” you say with a mock-strict voice and Jimin smiles, already knowing you forgave him.

“I’ll do anything you want. Consider me your personal Genie,” he jokes, jutting his chin out and puffing up his chest.

“Does that mean I get three wishes and a spectacular musical number?”

He’s quick to glare at you. “Let’s not stretch this too much, okay?”

You chuckle when an idea pops into your mind. Oh, he’s gonna hate this, perfect.

The smirk that graces your lips can’t mean anything good, Jimin realises with a sigh.

“How about a little competition…?”

Jimin’s eyes widen in fear. “You don’t mean-?”

“A Just Dance Competition!” you announce loudly, grin threatening to split your lips as Jimin stares at you with a fond smile.

“Oh, god, I should’ve expected that…” he chuckles, the sound resigning as he shakes his head.

In your first years of college, competing on Just Dance choreographies was almost an everyday thing. You and Jimin would give your best dancing moves and Hoseok would judge. Although after many times cheating and being overly competitive to the point of threatening the poor judge, you decided to leave the activity behind.

“Come on, just this once…” you hold up one finger and bring out your best puppy stare to sway him. Jimin just stares at you with crossed hands on his chest.

“You said anything…” your voice visibly loses its excitement as your face turns a bit crest-fallen.

He doesn’t last for long.

“Fine. We can do this, I guess…” he relents.

“Yes!” you do a little victory dance at Jimin’s answer.

“But just this once! And no one else can see but Hoseok!” he protests, shaking a finger scarily at you and you groan but agree nonetheless.

“Okay! It’ll just be the three of us. Partners in crime!” you declare, enthusiasm ruling over your body, standing proudly with your hands on your hips.

Jimin shakes his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m your friend…”

You stick your tongue out to him. “Because you looove me,” you sing-song, pecking him on the cheek, with a loud smack.

Jimin’s frame remains still for a moment. Staring at you as you climb out of your stool to wake up Hoseok and share the news before he reaches out.

“Wait…” his hand grasps your arm, halting your steps as you turn around to him with a questioning look.

He takes a deep breath before a smile befalls his lips. “I just… I never got to thank you.”

You stare back, confused, trying to think of what he wants to thank you for, but as time passes and you come by with nothing, you get more and more perplexed.

“About what?” you sit down again, kinda curious of what is so important to him that he wants to thank you.

His smile is grateful. “You know, for being so considerate with this whole situation. I mean, we all know Dinah… And I appreciate you being so cool about it,” he says calmly, thankfully as he takes your empty plates to put them on the sink.

His words send a fresh wave of guilt through you and you bite your lip. You need to tell him the truth.

“Actually about that…” you turn to look at him, trailing off and unsure of how to tell him you actually, kinda, sorta hate his girlfriend with a burning passion.

“Yeah?” Jimin’s unaware eyes and sweet smile meet your shameful and guilty ones. He looks so oblivious and so happy. You can see he likes her, you can see he wants to make this work and even you can admit Dinah’s behaviour has changed. Maybe this is it for them. Maybe all that shit had to happen so the second time around they’d know better of each other and themselves.

Maybe they were meant to make it work from the beginning.

A lump gets stuck in your throat.

“... Of course,” you smile through the sickening feeling in your chest, one you choose to ignore, despite its magnitude, “I’ll always be there to support you no matter what.”

Jimin’s smile turns wider, radiant and you feel like it swallows you.

Like it’s the only thing you see.

.

.

It’s the next evening that you put on your dancing gear and get ready to beat Jimin’s ass. 

Saturday is one of the few really free days you have. Jimin has no classes scheduled to teach today, Hoseok’s radio show isn’t scheduled for Saturdays and you’re just a writer with time to spare.

True to your words, you haven’t said anything to the other two friends of your group, keeping this little event strictly between the residents of this house. Although to be fair, there was another reason for the missed invite.

It’s not the first time during those two days that Ana’s words came to haunt you. To nag at your mind, making you wonder if there’s any truth to the accusations. Those accompanied with your behaviour around Jimin yesterday can only spell trouble for you and your dynamics.

No, there’s no way you feel anything else for Jimin besides cordial friendship. Ana just messed with your head, putting all those silly ideas in it to confuse you, hence why you can’t stop thinking about him naked.

Oops, did you say naked? You meant “in all those domestic scenarios where he’s your lover”.

You sigh. That doesn’t sound any better.

Okay, focus. You don’t like him. There’s no way.

Making your way into the living room, you find your roommates already in the area. Hoseok searches for Just Dance videos on youtube while Jimin stretches on the floor, leaning forward to touch his toes while granting you a perfect view of his plumpy behind.

God, what did I just say?!

You shake your head. That doesn’t count! You can still be attracted to someone and regard them only as a friend. Right?

Bottom line is you don’t like Jimin.

“Are we ready gentlemen?” you shot them a confident smile, already pumped up for this.

Jimin regards you with self-assurance colouring his features. “Ready for you to eat my dust? You bet I am,” he boasts, a sly smirk gracing his lips and you snort out loud.

“We’ll see about that…” is your collected comeback, not really worried about the outcome of this competition. You know you’re about to serve him his ass on a platter.

“Your trash talk sucks dick. Thank god I’m not the judge of that, both of you would be slammed to the ground right now…” Hoseok retorts with impassiveness as he puts a video on queue.

“You’re not here to roast us, you’re here to judge buttercup, so shut your hole and judge,” you bite back, the rush of the impending competition already getting you lightheaded, as you stare Hoseok down.

His eyebrow twitches in return. “Do you want me to change the song?” he challenges you.

At that, you and Jimin turn around immediately to see Twice’s Feel Special tutorial staring back at you from the screen and you realise that no. You don't.

“You’re fucking kidding me…” is Jimin’s less than excited response at having to dance the one song you’re a thousand times better than him.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

.

.

“No, I’m done! You clearly cannot appreciate my natural charisma, which is simply a blasphemy! A blasphemy, I tell you! People would beg to be judged by me, you degenerates!” Hoseok bursts out of the couch, the dancing tutorial still echoing softly in the background.

“No, Hoseok, please! We promise we’ll be good!” you beg with not as much as a tiny speck of sympathy for your deteriorating dignity.

Jimin scoffs, crossing his hands on his chest. “We? I had no part in this disrespectful disruption and that should be duly noted!” he rushes to save face. Truth is you’ve gone a bit too far.

“Y/N, you threw your phone at me!” a sheepish smile takes over your lips as Hoseok’s eyes marvel at your completely nonchalant behaviour.

“I didn’t… throw my phone at you per se....” you struggle to find an excuse, “I… threw it to you!” you explain with a giggle once your words make somewhat sense.

“What?” Hoseok’s furrowed eyebrows are a clear indication he’s not buying your shit.

“I threw it to you, not at you! So you could... film us! And naturally, the competition would be fairer!” you say in explanation, making your story on the way though it seems none of your roommates believe you.

You suppose that’s fair.

“I would’ve believed you if you hadn’t screamed straight to my face, -and I quote-, “What do you know of judging you freaking cocksucker?”,” Jimin lets out a snort, one he’s quick to hide behind his lips once your ominous glare finds him.

“Well, that leaves us with no judge and we’re currently at a tie, so what will we do?”

Hoseok simply shrugs before heading off to the corridor. “Not my problem anymore, compadre!” he beams at you before disappearing into his room.

Another heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as the song in the background changes into a softer ballad and you turn around to Jimin.

“Well, I guess this was for nothing then…” you huff out but Jimin simply smiles.

“No, I don’t think so…” he responds cryptically and before you can question him about it, his hand grabs yours.

“Come on, let’s dance…” he mutters quietly as he drags you forward closer to him.

Your breath hitches as your palms rest on his chest, heart suddenly beating wildly out of rhythm. You try to chase away Ana’s suggestion, blaming these feelings only on the fact that he’s hot. That’s all. Nothing more.

“But it’s a ballad. It has no tutorial…” you sputter, panic lingering in your words in a futile attempt to get rid of that unexplainable warmth enveloping you as Jimin’s hands end up encasing you.

“So we’ll slow dance…” is his simple answer, clearly not at all as affected as you.

You don’t know why that drives something ugly through your chest.

There’s nothing else you can say to get out of this without making it weird, so you simply let him guide you.

It’s easy to fall into a routine, slowly swaying to the beat of the music as you rest your chin on Jimin’s shoulder. You let your hands find their way to Jimin’s back, sliding upwards to rest on his shoulder blades as his own spread comfortable warmth to the small of your back.

It’s easy to pretend like this. Easier to close your eyes and let the beat slowly fill your ears, as you bask in the safeness of Jimin’s embrace. Like it’s nothing but another normal Sunday night, and not a favour to you because he left you to go hang out with Dinah.

Dinah. The name brings a pang of dull ache in your sternum.

There’s a small lump in your throat that you swallow away.

You’re just worried for him.

A small voice wonders when you’ll grow tired of this.

Jimin’s audible sigh brings you back to reality. You lean back to find him staring at you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t look away.

There’s something in them, something unreadable but it makes your cheeks scorch with the attention. Though you’re unable to avert your gaze from them. They remind you of that night, outside of your doors, when you were sure he was about to say something but ultimately choose not to.

Again, you wonder what that was. If he’s about to say it now.

But his lips remain pierced shut.

When the silence gets overwhelming you decide to break it.

You clear your throat. “So, uhm, have you done your christmas shopping yet?” you mumble, eyes zerowing on your feet that step side by side to Jimin’s.

His eyes still seek your own. “No, not yet…” he replies casually, hands soft upon your waist. “What about you?” he asks and you’re glad for the more than welcome distraction.

“Oh, yeah, I’m done with mine. Just haven’t figured what to get for Seokjin yet… You know how he gets about presents…” you mumble with a smile before you accidentally step on Jimin’s foot.

He hisses and your eyes widen as you rush to apologize.

“Shit, I’m sorry, maybe we should stop…”

Jimin shakes his head, “No, it’s fine…” he says, though his voice is a bit stiff and his eyes avert your own.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop dancing with you.

Again, there’s silence between you, only the sound of the song wafting through the living room. But this time it feels as if something else is floating through the air. Something tense.

You’re quick to fill the silence with a question that’s not easy to ask but it’s the only thing you can think of.

“So… you and Dinah, huh?” you just barely cover your shaky voice.

Jimin’s eyes find yours again. “Oh, uhm, yeah… I mean who would’ve thought, right?” he says with a surprised chuckle, “I mean after everything you’d think I would’ve stayed clear of her…” he says bewildered and an uneasy chuckle escapes you.

“Well, yeah, to be completely honest, we all were caught off guard…” you dare to say, remembering seeing him and Dinah in Seokjin’s bathroom that night. Only now thinking of his lips on her skin makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Yeah, I know. And I’m glad you are this civilized about it. I admit it wasn’t supposed to go this far, she was just there when I wasn’t okay and needed a distraction. She was familiar and comfortable. But then we ended up talking and… she’s really changed, Y/N. She kept apologizing for everything and I couldn’t help but think about how it would be if we tried again. I mean everyone deserves a second chance, right?” he concludes with such clarity and insight.

There’s a part of you that wants to say he’s stupid and naive for believing her. But the truth is he’s right. Everyone sane can see she has indeed changed and it reflects on their relationship as well. Jimin returns from their dates feeling happy and content.

You don’t know why that feels like a punch in the gut.

Your lips tug into a forced smile. “Right… wait, why weren’t you okay?” you ask, finally realizing you have no recollection of that. If he had been feeling less than okay at Seokjin's party, you can’t recall.

Jimin laughs your worries off, even though the nervousness in his features is obvious. “It was nothing. I just… saw something I shouldn’t have…” is his evasive answer. His eyes find yours again and they don’t dare to avoid you. Neither do you.

There’s something tense between you, something unspoken. You don’t think you can take any more of this without going mad.

But Jimin’s gaze doesn’t deter. It remains on you, as his hands tighten on your waist. The traitorous fluttering of your heart progresses and you mask your trembling inhale just barely. And suddenly an unexpected yearning blooms inside your lungs. One that’s swallowing you whole, threatening to take hold of your reasoning, threatening to push you forward and-.

Another Just dance tutorial comes into the screen and causes you both to jump in surprise and break apart.

Warmth spreads through your cheeks as you realize what you were about to do.

You were about to lean in.

Jimin clears his throat, eyes searching for his phone and he checks the time. “Oh, shit, I promised Dinah I’d go over there after we’re done…” he mumbles and you can’t help the slight sting that grows in your chest.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead…” you wind up saying, “I mean there’s no one to judge so technically there’s no competition anymore…” you try to get rid of the uneasiness with a chuckle.

Jimin looks at you with a carefree smile as if nothing happened. And you don’t know what hurts more, Jimin’s nonchalance about it or that nothing actually happened.

“Great, then I’m off. Bye, see you tomorrow!” he says, grabbing his phone and keys before stepping out of the apartment.

You stand there in the middle of the living room, eyes stuck on the closed front door. Knowing he went to find her and your chest constricts painfully.

You place your palm to steady your beating heart but it does not work. Not at all. Not when you keep wondering, wishing it was you in her place.

With terror, you realize you’re in deep shit.

.

.

You avoid Jimin as much as you can after that. December progresses, people flooding the streets to either buy presents, meet up with loved ones or visit the Christmas market at the centre, spreading love and warmth through an otherwise cold period.

Sadly that liberated flux of emotion cannot penetrate your tough walls of “perpetual desolation”, as you had once drunkenly described, and paired with the newly-realized feelings for Jimin, it renders you a real-life Scrooge.

That’s how Wednesday finds you with Ana and Seokjin, holed up in a cosy, little coffee house while trying to plan out this year’s New Year’s party.

It’s been a tradition of some sorts for you and your friends to host a New Year’s party at Ana’s apartment, given it’s the most spacious one, inviting all the people you know to celebrate the start of the new year in the best way possible.

You normally would be really pumped up about organizing the event, getting a small taste of the thrill the party would be weeks before. But today your mind isn’t at all able to focus on the preparations. Not that you could focus on anything else besides Jimin since Saturday.

“Okay, I’m sorry but we have to stop. Y/N clearly isn’t paying attention,” Seokjin acts out, his loud whining succeeds in startling you and you finally turn around to realize both of your friends stare suspiciously at you.

Seokjin is just confused, you can tell but Ana’s eyes tell a different story.

That night, after Jimin left for Dinah’s, you immediately called your friend, voice full to the brim with panic as you explained with a nervous stutter what happened. What you had realized and she tried to provide comfort in the best way that she could. She came over with a tub of ice cream, ready to talk it out with you and figure out what your plan was going to be. You also plead with her not to tell Hoseok, the boy couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

So you’re left sitting here, trying to plan out a party and instead wondering what your course of action should be.

And also wanting to tell Seokjin, hoping he’d have something different to say than Ana. Her suggestion was not what you wanted to hear. Not in the slightest.

“What’s going on?” the man in question asks once he deciphers the mild look of despair in your eyes, voice a tad more empathetic than before.

Your eyes find Ana’s.

She lets out a sigh, before closing her notebook. “Guess I’ll have to say it then…” she muses and a grateful smile masks over your lips. It’s still quite difficult for you to wrap your head around this sudden, inconceivable situation, let alone utter it out loud.

Seokjin’s confusion reflects in the state of his eyebrows; scrunched in, twitching upwards as his eyes zero in on Ana.

Ana rolls her eyes, takes a breath and then-.

“Y/N realized she’s in love with Jimin.”

“Ana!” you protest with wide eyes at her choice of words, feeling your cheeks redden as Seokjin gasps in astonishment.

“Okay, okay, “likes” Jimin,” she reformulates although she doesn’t have you convinced she believes this.

“Jimin?!” the man’s wide eyes are filled with disbelief, mirroring your own sentiments about the current turn of events.

You nod quickly yet somehow bashfully as another gasp falls from Seokjin’s lips and Ana mumbles a quiet “I know”.

“What? How? Who? No, wait, we know who,” he cuts off himself but not for long, “When? When did your feelings change? Was it after your one-night special of passionate love-making? God I have so many questions!” his whole form is trembling with excitement, giddiness over the newly discovered news that leaves you sort of confused.

“I don’t know actually…” you mumble, overly self-conscious and yet you push yourself to continue, to pour out everything that came rushing over you in the last couple of days. Maybe it’ll help. “It feels more as if… as if those feelings were always there? Only I hadn't realised them until recently…” you mutter, eyes on your cup as you stir the now-cold americano.

It still amazes you how much of those words are real. You like your best friend and in some way, you think you always did. Though you guess you were too dense to ever really pay attention to that bubbling feeling in your chest every time he was near.

Not until Ana pointed it out.

“How did you realize it then?” Seokjin’s query is deceptively calm and you figure from the insistent nail-biting, he’s holding back to not scare you off. An act you greatly appreciate.

“Well, Ana and I had a talk the other day which gave me a lot to think about… And after spending some time with Jimin alone and I started to observe myself and my behaviour around him… how he made me feel… I realized it for what it was. For what it is…” you stare at your cup while stealing careful glances at Seokjin, who looks ready to burst with whatever he wants to say but refrains from doing so.

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “You can talk now.”

A loud gasp tears through his mouth before, “Oh my god, this is so exciting! I already ship it, you’re perfect for each other! If I’m being honest here I never made a move on you cause I also thought you had something going on with Jimin, oh sweet baby Jesus this ship is sailing itself. It’s canon! I-”

“Wait, Seokjin, I think you forget a very important detail,” Ana interrupts him, gaze stern as ever and Seokjin visibly hesitates.

“What?”

“Dinah,” Ana answers and Seokjin’s eyes glaze over with recognition before his shoulders drop.

“Oh, right…” he remembers solemnly and steals a glance at you full with guilt.

You smile although a bit saddened. “It’s okay…”

“But, Y/N… Are you actually in love with him? Or was this just something Ana said to tease you?” he regards you with wary eyes.

You rush to answer the question, minutes before so certain of your answer, only for your lips to remain shut with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know. I mean I thought it was just a crush but I’m not so sure anymore. He’s all I can think about, all I could think about even when I didn't know I liked him, something he said, or the way his voice changed, wondering what the cause of it was. I catch myself actively wishing to be in Dinah’s place, to be the one Jimin goes home to at the end of the day, the one to get to call him hers…” your feelings catch up with you and you find yourself needing a moment to breathe. A moment when you realize it’s not just some stupid crush.

You take a shaky breath. “Fuck, I’m screwed…” you say, the consequences of your breakthrough taking over you like a tidal wave, as you come to a startling conclusion. “I need to tell Jimin.”

Ana takes a tense breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

But you don’t listen, just like you didn’t after your talk. “I’m not expecting anything out of it so it’d be okay either way, then I can move on at last.”

She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Y/N, no, you don’t know how he’s gonna react! He’s not some rando you happen to stumble upon the same bar four nights a week. He’s your best friend with whom you live together. If things head south, it wouldn’t be as simple as just changing your hangout spot to avoid him! He’s always gonna be there.”

Her words sound ominous and, more frighteningly, reasonable, slightly wavering your resolve but you don’t back down just yet, turning a blind eye to the worst possible outcome even if the chances of that happening are so much more than the opposite. “It’s Jimin, no matter what happens between us, we always have managed to work through it.”

Ana sighs, eyes sad as she stares at you, once again having to fight her way through to make you see reason. “Honey, this is not as simple as him stealing your cereal…”

You swallow the lump in your throat, stubbornly refusing to let it go. “Yeah, but what if-”

“There’s no “what if” Y/N!” Ana lashes out, eyes wide half with irritation half with concern as both you and Seokjin are left to simply stare at her. “There’s no way to tell if he’s feeling the same and he’s currently dating Dinah, who he’s happy with! All you’re gonna achieve now is getting him all confused and uncertain. Do you realize how that may affect your friendship afterwards? Do you really wanna jeopardize what you have over a “what if”?” Ana’s rant is over and finally, you can’t hide behind your finger anymore as her words echo in your mind. Although there’s a large part of you that wishes to deny it, you admit with a heavy heart she is right.

You can’t tell Jimin. Not right now.

You bite your lip as you avert your eyes, trying to suppress your tears as you shake your head, to show you finally see reason. Even if it hurts like hell.

Ana sighs, regret filling her otherwise soft voice. “I’m sorry for being so blunt, if the situation was any different I would be right there with you, being the first to support you in your decision to tell him. But it’s not. And I just don’t want to see either of you getting hurt…” she confesses, as she reaches her hand out to tentatively cover your own.

You let her as you swallow the lump in your throat. The one that makes you feel like you’re drowning.

“I have to agree with Ana on this… I think it will be for the best if you didn’t tell him for now. But whatever you decide to do…. We’ll support you…” Seokjin adds with tender words, that Ana nods furiously to agree with, as he squeezes gently your other hand.

A sad smile manages to find its way onto your lips as you give them both a gentle and thankful glance.

“Thank you, guys…” your voice is barely audible. Then you shake your head, blinking the tears away and slap your cheeks to get rid of the choking in your throat.

“Okay, enough of this. Let’s go back to what we actually came here to do!” you exclaim with a smile and Ana and Seokjin smile back as they open their notebooks once more.

You might be going through a heartbreak but at least for now, you’ll be fine.

.

.

After that conversation, Ana and Seokjin took it upon themselves to help you find someone else, even if you told them a thousand times you weren’t interested.

Ana proposed Seokjin could give Namjoon your number but Seokjin was quick to inform you he was currently seeing someone. Ana tried to hook you up with a work friend but to be honest, there really was no spark with Youngjae so you gave up on that fairly easily. But there’s this guy you see a few times a week at your favourite coffee shop and just a few days ago he approached you asking for your number. At first, you were hesitant to give it but you knew Ana and Seokjin were right on the whole dating thing. If you want to get over Jimin, you need to give another person a chance. So you gave your number to Jaehyun and now, a week later after your talk with Ana and Seokjin, just two days before Christmas, you’re getting ready for your date. Seokjin had suggested you had the date at his restaurant and the probability of being somewhere familiar, somewhere comfortable was like music to your ears.

In the meantime, your avoidance of Jimin hasn’t subsided. There are moments when you think he’s on to you, or that he thinks something’s weird but whenever he tries to bring it up, Seokjin or Ana or your disappearance halt him.

The truth is you hate it. It feels awful to avoid your best friend, it’s horrible pretending as if you don’t see the hurt in his eyes when you dismiss him. But you don’t trust yourself enough to not spill anything to him yet. And Ana was right, you can’t afford to risk it.

So that’s your plan for as long as needed. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Although when the front door closes with a loud bang, you have a feeling it’s not gonna be that easy today. Hoseok’s over at Ana’s as she promised to keep him there to give you and Jaehyun some privacy. So the only other possible explanation is Jimin returning earlier from his date.

You peak out of your bedroom to see him marching down the hall. His eyes stare stubbornly, intensely at the floor as if they try to burn holes through the carpet as his heavy steps boom through the apartment. That vein in his forehead is pulsing, threatening to burst at any moment, his lips pulled into an angry frown as he takes off his jacket. He tries to rip it off with hasty movements as if it’s something tangled to him, choking him.

“Jimin, is everything okay…?” you ask cautiously as he still struggles with his jacket in front of his bedroom.

He curses through clenched teeth, ripping the jacket off his hand with one sharp movement. “Yeap. Everything’s okay. More than okay! Perfect! Everything’s perfect!” he exclaims, even though the irony in his voice doesn’t do much to convince you.

“...Do… you wanna talk about it?” your voice is careful, wishing quite selfishly and guiltily he doesn’t, because you know if he does want, there’s no chance you’ll be able to deny him, date or no date. 

He huffs before searching for his phone. “What’s there to talk about? That my girlfriend is a successful doctor that apparently gets paged in the middle of our date? That children need her and I can't complain? That I’m searching for my phone and I can’t fucking find it?!” he bursts before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Your stomach flips uncomfortably in response to the hurt hiding in Jimin's eyes. His face is filled with worries, marking the space between his eyebrows and you want to smooth your thumb over the lines. Your chest constricts in a bothersome matter when you spot his glassy eyes. It’s not an image you like to see on him.

So, against your better judgement, you do what you’ve tried so long not to.

You talk to him.

“You’re not a bad person for feeling angry. As long as you don’t put the blame on her you’re okay. It’s normal. You just want to spend some time with your girlfriend…” you respond, trying to hide the sadness colouring your voice at the word “girlfriend”, as you walk out of your room into the hallway to talk properly to your friend.

His eyes, filled with something akin to shame, find yours and you wanna wipe that frown from his lips with yours.

But you control yourself. You’re not an animal.

“Also, check your jacket…” you point at the article of clothing with a soft smile, and as he follows your advice, he gives you a small, closed-lip smile. But it’s still a smile.

With a tired chuckle, he finds his phone in one of the pockets and shakes his head before his eyes find yours. Although as they land on your form, the chuckle fades out, confusion written on his skin.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asks, pointing to the mini black dress you’re wearing and sudden heat scorches through your cheeks.

“I, uhm… Yeah, on a date…” you chuckle nervously, rubbing your arm, eyes on your feet. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m going, the guy’s too hot for me…” you try to joke but Jimin has none of it.

“Bullshit, you’re too hot for him! You always do that, you put yourself down, thinking you’re not good enough, but Y/N, they’re not good enough for you! You’re amazing, funny, smart, kind and, yeah, sometimes grumpy as hell, but you deserve more than feeling like one of someone’s many choices. You’re the only one. So treat yourself like one as well.” Jimin interjects, voice serious and kinda fed up but his last words soften. He looks at you with such tenderness you can almost pretend he feels the same. You can almost pretend he wants you too.

Almost.

You clear your throat. “Thanks, sport…” you respond with a chuckle, trying to chase the tension away, but Jimin’s eyes won’t budge. They seem uncertain as if he’s trying to figure out something, but their intensity only tortures you more and you have to say something to break free from them.

“Uhm, yeah so I have to go now…” you move back to your room to get your purse and coat and Jimin’s eyes finally move away from you with a cough.

“Yeah, uhm… Yeah, of course…” he rushes to say, eyes fidgeting anywhere but close to you as he struggles to open his door.

“...Unless you want me to cancel?” you propose, knowing full well if he says yes, there’s no way you can say no to him. And that Ana is probably gonna beat your ass.

Jimin almost chokes at that, face flushing, turning his body towards you yet his eyes look at the floor. “What? Why? Why would I want you to cancel?” he stutters, eyes fidgeting between you and his door.

“Well, I figured you’d want to talk some more about Dinah…” you say softly, thinking you must have hit a nerve on his pride but he visibly relaxes at your words.

“Oh, uhm, no, don't worry about it, I’ll be fine. Go enjoy your date, and say hi to Seokjin from me,” he responds with a smile, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But before you get to ask him if he’s sure, or how he knows the date is at Seokjin’s restaurant, he’s already hiding in his room, behind his closed door.

You sigh. Maybe he wants to be alone. To be alone and think it over by himself. Yeah, he’ll be okay.

You don’t do a good job of convincing yourself as you put on your coat and walk to the front door.

He’ll be fine.

.

.

20 minutes later, you find your way back into the apartment, throwing your keys on the glass bowl next to the door, taking your shoes off in front of a very confused and suspicious Jimin who watches a movie on the couch.

You take off your coat and plop yourself down next to him, as he keeps on watching you weirdly.

You pick up some of his popcorn, before. “What are we watching?”

Jimin presses his lips together in a poor attempt to conceal the grin threatening to spill all over his lips before he schools his face into a strict expression. “I told you I’d be okay…”

Your eyes are glued to the TV as you feign ignorance. “I know. And I didn’t bail out on him. He did,” you said, sudden interest in the movie piqued.

Jimin’s eyes widen, shuffling on his spot with newly found vigour. “What? You want me to talk to him for you?”

That takes you by surprise. You turn to look at him only to see his eyes stuck to you, as serious as ever. Does he even know Jaehyun?

Oh god, he shouldn’t talk to him.

“Ah, no, no, he didn’t do it on purpose! He just… had somewhere to go. We’ll just reschedule,” you reply knowing full well you’re not gonna do that.

Even if Jaehyun was entirely too eager to do that when you told him you had a family emergency.

Truth is you didn’t drive too far before you yielded and texted Jaehyun to cancel. Thinking Jimin would’ve been stuck at home alone and sulking didn’t sit well with you.

Jimin’s suspiciousness doesn’t leave his eyes but he visibly relaxes. “Oh, if you’re okay then…” he simply says before his smile reappears. Then he goes on to answer your previous question, informing you about the movie playing in the background.

You rest your chin on your palm as you listen to him intently. Absorbed by the excitement in his voice, the glint in his eyes as he explains the plot to a movie he clearly enjoys. His cheeks are flushed, heated up by how quickly he’s talking, voice melodic and excited. His hair falls on top of his forehead, messy and shiny, moving slightly with every tilt of his head when he’s thinking over something. His lips form a pout when he’s uncertain over a specific detail but the truth is you don’t care.

Not about the movie.

.

.

It’s towards the end of the movie when you feel Jimin turning towards you.

You copy his actions, turning to face your best friend with a questioning glint in your eyes. “Spill it out, champ.”

Jimin smiles at your words, resting one arm at the back of the couch, behind you. “I just wanted to thank you for staying-”

You gasp, once again pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. “I told you the date got cancelled, I had to come back! Didn’t you listen, you dingus?”

Jimin’s smile widens, looking away with a low chuckle. “Right…” he says, though not looking very much convinced. “Even so… you being here means a lot, so thank you…” he concludes with soft eyes, a kind of tenderness you’re not used to seeing reflecting in his gaze, at least not directed towards you. But it’s not foreign, not even one bit.

A gentle smile graces your lips as you answer. “Of course. You’re my best friend,” you respond in an as-a-matter-of-fact way while you give him a playful nudge on the ribs.

He chuckles, eyes falling to his lap. “You know, I might be joking about regretting being your friend when you annoy the shit out of me…” you both laugh at that, as you shuffle in your spot, “but if I’m grateful for anything in my life is the years you’ve been a part of it. I wouldn’t risk our friendship for anything. You’re the best friend I could ever have and I hope I’m at least half as good a friend to you,” he concludes, words filled with emotion, even though his voice is serene and soothing.

The display of emotion tugs at your heartstrings but when it’s your turn to return them words fail you. You can’t even begin to put what Jimin means to you into words, newly-discovered feelings put aside. What his friendship means to you, what those years spent together made you cope through and how they changed you, those things are bigger than the strict barrier of words.

So, you do what every self-respected awkward human being would do.

You joke about it.

“Did you swallow a Barbie DVD or something? Where did that come from?” you chuckle in borderline embarrassment, as you try to get off the couch.

“No, Y/N, I’m serious,” he reacts, voice stern as he rests his palm on your leg to stop you from leaving. 

Though both pairs of eyes widen at that.

Because you never changed out from the mini black dress and when you moved earlier the fabric had ridden up your thighs.

So now Jimin’s palm lays on the top part of your smooth, bare thigh.

Instant heat washes over you, as you barely manage to mask the gasp bubbling up in your throat. Your eyes fall to his fingers, not daring to meet his gaze as you feel the warmth of his skin spreading through to yours.

Your heart beats wildly inside your chest and there’s a certain, familiar discomfort in the pit of your stomach.

He doesn’t move his hand. You can feel his eyes on you and there are goosebumps where his gaze trails on your skin.

You let your eyes find his own.

You’re not at all ready.

Not for the darkness in them, not for the haziness and tension, certainly not for the dark part in you that tells you there’s more to them than those things. No, not for the intensity and lust hidden in their dark depths.

No, you’re not ready.

But their existence is as tangible as it could ever be.

You can’t move, not an inch and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You’d choose not to. The heat in his stare sends chills down your arms, your cheeks scorching and your gaze falls to his plump lips, a sharp yet quiet inhale escaping you at just a small peek of his tongue.

And then you swear you feel-.

“Sup, guys? How have you been?” Hoseok’s voice fills the apartment as he steps inside from the front door. The sound of his cheerful entrance has you both instantly jumping away from each other in panic.

“Uhm, fine, we’ve been fine!” you struggle to reply, voice an octave higher as Jimin looks away and nods with you.

Hoseok takes off his shoes nonchalantly, not having a single clue about the thick tension in the air when he notices your outfit. He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Did you go somewhere?”

You swallow nervously, foot tapping the floor. “Ah, yeah, I had a date…”

Hoseok looks ever more confused now for some unknown reason. “You did?” he asks, eyes moving to Jimin.

Jimin rushes to explain. “It got cancelled.”

“Ah… I see,” Hoseok replies as if somehow this makes more sense.

But you’re too preoccupied with Jimin’s proximity to question Hoseok’s reaction, instead focusing on trying to appear calm and not at all flustered and worked up as you are. You stand up from the couch as calmly as you can. Though you admit it’s not very much calmly. “Uh, yeah, so anyways I should go change. Goodnight guys!” you mumble quickly, eager to escape and you run off to your room.

Hoseok’s confusion is back when you disappear into your room and he turns to Jimin who also gets up and discreetly readjusts his pants. “What’s up with her?”

“Wouldn’t know. Actually, I’m quite sleepy too, so goodnight!” Jimin rushes to exclaim and then he’s off, walking rushedly towards his room.

Leaving Hoseok alone in the living room and baffled as hell.

.

.

Your legs can’t take you into your bedroom any faster and you rush to close the door with a slight lightness of breath.

Oh, god.

What just happened?

Your knees still feel weak, legs trembling and you immediately sit on the floor. Not trusting your limbs to carry you as far as your bed is, eyes and mouth wide in shock as you bring your hands to cool your heated cheeks.

You’re not crazy, you couldn’t have imagined this. You swear it wasn’t just your wishful thinking. No matter how much you want this, there’s no way your mind could have imagined such an intense way of staring. His eyes seemed like black holes, swallowing you whole and you would’ve gladly let him if Hoseok hadn’t interrupted.

Which reminds you. Right before Hoseok walked in you’re certain you felt the edges of his fingertips moving. And not away, as if belatedly realizing of his slip up.

Moving upwards.

“Fuck…” is your breathless realization, biting your lip as heat pools between your thighs. Making you reminisce of your little rendez-vous eight months ago and all the ways he made you feel, of how he felt pressed against you, inside you, drawing moans out of your lips as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

How his mouth felt against your skin.

You slap some sense into yourself.

No! What were you thinking?! What was he thinking?! He has a girlfriend! A girlfriend whose sudden departure had him feeling upset merely hours ago. Maybe this behaviour was just a cry for attention caused by this event and you shouldn’t encourage it.

There was attraction, that is true. If there wasn’t any attraction between the two of you, you wouldn’t have slept together all those months ago in the first place. But this is not the time, nor the place. Not when he has a girlfriend and not when your feelings are so much more than just that.

It’s bad news and you gotta do your best to nip it in the bud. Crush it before the frustration gets any stronger and threatens to take hold of your sanity.

You let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs. As if the fresh air could bring a new sense of logic, resolve and determination to help you get through this unscathed.

You get up off the floor to get ready for sleep.

.

.

Only, it’s close to 4 am and you still can’t sleep.

You fuss around in your bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound breaking the otherwise calm serenity of your dark bedroom.

You huff in annoyance, throwing the covers off of you, suddenly too warm for your liking. You’ve been trying to sleep for three hours now, but instead of blissful numbness, when your eyes close your mind is filled with the look in Jimin’s eyes from this afternoon. Turning you on despite your best efforts.

You sit up, back on your headboard, hands crossing over your chest as you tap your fingers on your arm. The shorts you wear to sleep feel uncomfortably stifling with sweat and you shuffle quickly out of them.

Only a particular movement has you clenching your thighs from the pleasurable friction on your clit and you bite your lip to keep the moan from spilling out.

Jimin’s dark eyes come to mind once more.

You inhale deeply, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, now dressed in only that and your panties. You bite your lip once more in thought and concealed shame.

You shouldn’t.

But your inhibitions don’t stop you from recalling that night.

{{You throw another shot down with a blissful smile as you watch Jimin do the same, only with significantly less enthusiasm than you. It’s already been one hour since you’ve been here, drinking your guts to help him move on, and already two girls walked away from him. It might be the way he slouches on the bar, droopy face that screams “recently dumped and still in love” but you refuse to leave here tonight without Jimin getting laid. Or at least having some fun.

“Come on, I’m sure someone else will approach you!” you nudge him playfully and Jimin scoffs as he proceeds to order another drink.

“Yeah, right. If anything I’ll just make a fool of myself again…” he grumbles, eyes focused on the empty shot glasses on the bar.

You throw an arm around his shoulders, determined to cheer him up. “Well, it’s because you’ve gotten rusty, bud! Give it some time, you’ll get better!” you observe vigorously, poking his cheek but the gloom expression doesn’t abandon him.

“I don’t think I will…” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do.

“What? Why?” your perplexion is audible in your words and Jimin lets out a breath.

“I just… I don’t get why would anyone bother to approach me. What’s there to like anyway…?” he admits quietly. His eyes avoid yours but you can see the sorrow, the defeat lacing their edges. The response fills you with unbridled rage over how her insistent verbal abuse has seeped into his mind and made him question himself and his worth like this.}}

Even now, that rage hasn’t subsided completely, finding yourself getting pissed at how much his previous relationship with Dinah had ruined him.

{{“Follow me for a second,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag him out of his stool to a more quiet place of the bar.

You step into the hallway that leads to the rooftop with a pretty begrudging Jimin trailing after you. The corridor is currently devoid of people, hence rendering it the perfect spot for what you're about to say.

“Why are we here?” Jimin asks like a weary teenager, crossing his arms on his chest as he rests his body on the wall.

“We’re here because you’re a freaking idiot and people would’ve probably stared if I laid it on you back there! You seriously cannot believe there’s nothing likeable about you!” you scold him with your hands on your waist.

Jimin’s eyes fall to his shoes, a pout forming on his lips.

“Well, there isn’t…” he responds genuinely and you swear you’re gonna swat him with a broom.

“Well, better buckle up soldier ‘cause I’m about to send your princely ass to confidence town,” you declare with ferocity and Jimin regards you with a confused but amused smile.

“So am I a soldier or a prince, I’m confused.”

“You’re both, you’re a prince who served on the front line in the dragon war,” you respond, deciding to humour him, seeing at least that brings a smile back on his lips.

“Is that from your book?” he asks back, a very carefully-hidden smirk gracing his face.

“No, it’s not, I- Hey!” you stop once you realize what he’s been doing, “Stop distracting me! Now stop and listen to me you bastard!” you point your finger at him and his smile shows he’s not in the least sorry.

“People go crazy about you everywhere you go! Seriously you’re the most likeable person I know, I could see that even back in high school when we didn’t hang out as much! You’re just… You’re the most perfect human being ever!” you exclaim with zeal, desperate to make your best friend see himself as you do.

Jimin shakes his head even if a small blush starts to bloom on his cheeks. “Now you’re just messing with me…”

“No I’m not!” you interject, taking a step closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’re the kindest and smartest, I mean you passed your college exams with flying colours!” a shy smile graces his lips at that, “And on top of that, you’re so handsome! I mean look at your lips dude! People literally pay to get their lips like this!” an impromptu laugh escapes him and resonates in the empty hall, “And the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh is just plain adorable, but on the other hand girls - and guys - would kill to lick those abs, or have a grasp at your pecs,” you cite all of Jimin’s great characteristics, but in your desire to show him how perfect he is, a slight slip of the tongue happens.

“And your thighs-” you begin but instantly stop, regret filling your mind as soon as you realise what you were about to say.

Truth is you always had a weakness for his thighs. You admit, his body is pretty phenomenal as a whole but his thighs, in particular, are a certain weak spot for you. In shame, you admit you fantasized about them trapping you between them more than once.

But, alas, Jimin catches on that and he stands up straight, a questioning look in his eyes.

“What about my thighs…?” he asks curiously, eyes regarding you with interest as they dare you to continue. You swallow nervously and the movement has Jimin’s eyes glint with sudden realization. 

“Um, they… um,” you lose your train of thought as the look in his eyes changes to something darker and he takes a step closer.

“They are...um, toned!...” you say in relief at finding a pretty innocent word but Jimin doesn’t slow down. You take a step back.

“And…?” he demands, not at all satisfied by your explanation, unrelenting and asking for more. He takes another step forward to cover your own, diminishing the distance between you.

“And firm and… sturdy…” you mumble as if in a daze as the predatory glint in his eyes only grows.}}

In real-time, the look in Jimin’s eyes matches the one from earlier tonight and you rub your thighs together for some needed relief.

{{“And…?” he asks, voice low and commanding as he effectively traps you against the wall, palms resting on each side of your face, dark eyes pinning you in place.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden emptiness between your legs as your eyes fall to his plump lips.

“And... thick…” you finish softly, breathlessly as your chest moves quickly with each intake of breath, struggling to keep your head straight.}}

Your hands find their way down your body as if they have a mind of their own.

{{“So you like my thighs then…” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips, a soft gasp rolling off your tongue.

“I- I don’t…” you don’t even manage to convince yourself and the predatory smile returns on his lips.}}

Your hand rests on the hem of your underwear.

{{“Really?... So…” he trails off, smirk ever-present as he slowly moves his right leg. “... it wouldn’t matter if I did this?....” he teases and presses his thigh against your clothed centre.}}

They move the article of clothing aside to press at your aching clit.

{{You don’t manage to conceal the gasp that trudges over to a moan, as his toned muscle presses against your panty-clad clit underneath your skirt. Your hands fly to grab at his biceps and a low chuckle falls from his lips as his face lowers towards your neck.

Your cunt clenches over nothing and your hips buck into his thigh desperately.

“Do you want more…?” he whispers with a tantalizing hum, intimately beneath your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel his thigh flexing against you as if teasing you about what’s to come if you say yes.

In your drunken and lust infused mind you can’t find a single reason to say no.}}

Your fingers move slowly, rolling the swollen nub between them as a quiet sigh breaks free from your lips, remembering the way his thigh felt against you. Your movements are soft, careful, not wanting to rush it as even more memories flood your mind.

{{It doesn’t take long for Jimin to take you home after you say yes. You drive back in his car, barely keeping your hands to yourself as he drives. It takes all your willpower not to make him stop the car and ride him in the middle of the street. Instead, you only let one hand palm him through his jeans and the other dive beneath your skirt to toy with your folds. Pleasuring both of you at the same time and having Jimin going completely mad with want, a promise hiding in his eyes as he drives.

Once you reach your building, you’re immediately on each other, not caring who might see. You climb up the old stairs in a haze, hands exploring each other’s bodies, grabbing at the tender part, lips tracing the exposed skin until you reach your apartment. Your back hits the front door, a moan rolling off your tongue and Jimin swallows it eagerly as his lips devour yours.

His hands are rough at your hips, grinding his crotch against you, your bare thighs rubbing against the roughness of his jeans as you blindly search for your keys.

“Could you- could you stop for a second and help me get the door…” you mumble against his mouth when your fingers finally grasp at the metallic key in your pocket.

Jimin doesn’t stop kissing you though. “Honestly, I don’t mind fucking you senseless against it,” he growls at you, biting your bottom lip as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Fuck…” the image his words paint arouse you a great deal more than what you’d like to admit. Your head hits the door as the image floods your mind.

“No, we can’t…” you say, still somehow self-conscious, “People might see…” you mumble with closed eyes as Jimin leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collar bones.

“Let them see then…” he responds with confidence as he grips at your chin and forces you to look at him.

His eyes are hooded, completely dark under his heavy gaze on you. He licks his lips as he stares at you like he wants to ravish you and you lean your head down to capture his thumb between your lips.

You stare at him innocently through your eyelashes, sucking the digit into your mouth. Jimin’s eyes widen even more. You roll your tongue teasingly around him, making sure your eyes remain on him, as he breathes heavily and then you let it go with a loud “pop”.

Jimin stares back at you. Tongue running across his bottom lip before-.

“Fuck, okay, okay. I changed my mind. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this but me.” he curses softly, before taking the keys from your hands to open the door.}}

Your fingers are faster now, soft whimpers falling from your lips. Too quiet for anyone to hear as your other hand travels beneath your T-shirt to grasp at your breast.

{{You’re a mess of limbs and kisses as you stumble towards Jimin’s room. Jackets have been discarded somewhere in the living room and you don’t even bother on closing the door. Hoseok’s is bound to spend the evening at Ana’s, so you don’t have to worry about being quiet either. You have the place to yourselves.

“I want to suck you off, can I suck you off?” you mumble between kisses, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You can’t wait to feel the weight of his length on your tongue and judging by how he’s straining against his jeans you’d say he can’t wait either.

Another curse rolls from his tongue as he rushes to help you undo the last few buttons. “Yes. Fuck yes,” he grunts in anticipation once his shirt is off.

You push him to sit at the edge of his bed, too impatiently. You kneel between his legs, hands running up and down his thighs as he leans back, palms supporting his weight against the mattress as he stares at you lazily, biting his lip.

You let your eyes wander over the expanse of his smooth chest, taking in the sight of his sturdy muscles, his perked up nipples and his sculpted abs. A high pitched whine escapes you at how absolutely perfect he is. You want to ruin him.

Jimin smirks lazily at you. “Like what you see?”

You only nod, licking your lips and indulging yourself.

You move upwards carefully, placing a few butterfly kisses against his chest, letting your tongue roll over his nipples, which he greatly appreciates if his loud moans are anything to get by.}}

You roll one perked nipple beneath your fingertips. A quiet moan comes off your lips in response and you buck your hips into your hand, aching for something more.

{{You move lower, letting your tongue trail the edges of his abs. The warm muscle drives the man insane by the traitorous pace it takes as his chest rises and falls with every breath.

His hand winds up tangled in your hair, threading through the lock to tug softly at the roots and making you groan in arousal.

You’re quick in unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them downwards until they’re off. Anticipation rolls over you in waves as you move to the waistband of his boxers and Jimin tucks some strands away from your face.

You let his cock spring free and it taps against his stomach. Your mouth salivates at the sight. Pulsating veins run down its shaft, its head a pretty pink, tip glistening with precum and you lick your lips with wanton. He’s not very big, not in length, but the size of his girth seems to compensate for that more than enough. He’s thick, thicker than what you’re used to and even if you had some lengthier ones, you’re sure this one will put them all to shame.

Jimin’s patience runs low and a low whine echoes in his dulcet voice.

“Don’t just stare at it…” he mumbles and for the first time since the club, he sounds almost shy. Something which makes your stomach flip in arousal.

A smirk meets his eyes as you lower your head, his hand still in your locks and you take a tentative lick at the tip.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, eyes never abandoning you or your movements as you rest your hands at his thighs for leverage. You keep on teasing him, feeling his muscles tense beneath your palms and a crooked smile paints your lips.

You lower your mouth again, taking his head into your wet cavern and a soft moan breaks free from Jimin’s lips. His hand tightens its grip at your hair, nudging softly forward, not enough to be forceful but enough to clue you into what he wants.

Instead, you hollow your cheeks and a sharp gasp escapes him.}}

Finally, you move your underwear aside to tease your entrance and proceed to insert one finger into your throbbing cunt.

{{You begin moving your head up and down his length slowly, torturously and his eyes roll back into his head as it lols back. You don’t increase your pace, letting your jaw adjust to his wide girth, slowly letting each inch delve into your mouth. 

“Fuck…, you-” Jimin tries to talk only for another gasp to tear through his lips as you take him deeper. Coating him with your saliva and hollowing your cheeks again. He moans loudly, his hand rolling your hair into a fist, tugging at the roots as you take him fully, feeling him resting heavily on your tongue.

You pick up the pace steadily, bobbing your head and nails digging into the unmarred skin of his thighs. A hiss tumbles from his mouth in response.

You readjust your position to take off your shirt and bra. You then put more weight into your knees to give your full focus on sucking him off. You keep your cheeks hollowed, going faster and faster, a sturdy grip on Jimin’s bare thighs as your eyes remain stuck on his face.

You swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Jimin’s face as he drowns in pleasure. His eyes are tightly shut, scrunched in concentration to not miss the feeling of your mouth on him. His mouth is agape as he struggles to breathe properly, soft gasps escaping his mouth instead.

It strikes you hard; how magnificently ruined he looks. How absolutely wrecked you have him, and the stickiness in your underwear grows knowing he looks like this because of you.

Then he opens his eyes lazily, orbs lost in desire and as they rest on your bare tits, his hips instinctively buck into your mouth with a cry before he stops himself.}}

You take a quick break to stop yourself from finishing too early and instead pay attention back to your clit.

{{“Fuck, stop for a second…” he breathes out harshly, pushing you away from his cock as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Why?” you say thoroughly confused and Jimin chuckles breathlessly at your puppy stare. He then moves forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Cause I was about to cum on your tits and I’d rather do that inside you…” he whispers against your mouth and you find yourself biting your lip to suppress a moan.

“Now please let me taste you…” he mumbles seductively as he forces you up. You stand up in front of him, his head in level with your breasts. His eyes stare up at you, wide and deceptively innocent before he wraps his mouth around one nipple and rolls it with his tongue. You gasp out loud, arching your chest against him for more. His fingers graze your thighs in the meantime, moving upwards to wrap around your underwear and get rid of it, leaving you bare beneath your skirt.

“I don’t…” another gasp interrupts your words as he runs a finger through your folds. “I don’t think I have the patience for that…” you stutter, hips rolling over his fingers.

A harsh suck at your nipple has you crying out loud, grabbing at Jimin’s locks. While he drives two fingers in you, without warning.

“Fuck, Jimin!” your high pitched protest resonates around the apartment and Jimin curses, moving the two fingers slowly inside you.

“Fuck, you take my fingers so well, baby…” he murmurs against your chest, his low timbre sounding like heaven in your ears. His fingers move slowly against your walls, just barely find your g-spot that has you seeing stars.

“You’re so wet, look at you…” he brings the two fingers between you. They glisten in the soft light of his nightstand, strands of your arousal connecting the two digits as he moves them into a V shape. He stares at them, mesmerised before pushing one digit into his mouth. He moans at the taste, before pushing the other finger towards your lips.

Instead, you grasp at both fingers and suck at them obediently, making sure to suck all your slick from his fingers. Your eyes remain on Jimin, whose eyes almost roll in bliss.

“Okay. Fuck, okay. Get that skirt off and get on the bed,” comes his urgent reply as he all but throws you on the mattress after the skirt has joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You lay across his sheets, spreading your legs wide for him and Jimin all but falls on his face trying to take off his boxers, making you giggle in response.

Once they’re off, his movements are more smooth as he steps on to the bed. His eyes are dark, swimming in a pool of desire, never straying away from your face as he crawls towards you. His hands rest on each side of your head, hips pressing against your own as his eyes fall to your lips.

You’re breathing heavily underneath him, chest brushing against him with every breath and you arch your back to press closer against him.

“Do you have a condom…?” you say before biting softly at his earlobe, your hand wrapping sloppily around his thick length.

He bucks into your palm desperately before he nods. He reaches his hand on his nightstand, never leaving the warmth of your body, and grabs the foil package. You take it from him and rip it open with your teeth, too fucked out to wait and Jimin gapes at you as you pretend not to notice the twitch on his dick.

You roll it on him as he lets out a long breath and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Are you sure about this…?” he asks cautiously, giving you one last chance to step back.

You grab at his neck to push him downwards into a kiss. Your lips are rough against him and he presses further, letting his tongue dive into your mouth to find your own. Your kiss is sloppy, urgent, not caring for tenderness. Getting you even more aroused as Jimin instinctively rolls his hips against yours.

“Okay, got it,” is his answer to your kiss. His hand grasps at his cock and giving it a few pumps before sheathing inside you with one sharp thrust.}}

You let two of your fingers dive inside you at the memory, drawing a long moan, quiet enough to be heard only in the confinements of your own room.

{{Both of you moan loudly at the intrusion, feeling complete and utter fullness with the way Jimin is pulsating inside you. It takes a while to get used to him, breathing slowly to help yourself relax as Jimin presses soft kisses to the skin above your breasts.

Soon though his kisses turn hungrier, messier, bordering into bites and you can’t help but moan and clench at the sensation.

Jimin hisses and reacts with another sharp thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure.

He starts a brutal pace, slow but rough deliberate thrusts, moving you further into the bed.

He pushes your legs on your chest in a new position, as he leans on top of you and drives his cock even deeper into you. He hits your g-spot almost repeatedly, having you crying out and your eyes well up by how good it feels.

“Fuck, Jimin, fuck, don’t stop…” you cry breathlessly even though Jimin doesn’t seem like stopping anytime soon.}}

In real-time, you pick up the pace of your fingers, driving them deeper to press against your g-spot, as you keep panting upon your sheets.

{{“Fuck. You. Feel. So. Good.” he punctuates each word with a thrust, as they come out in loud, rough growls, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as precipitation gathers at his temples, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

You cry out in ecstasy with every rough snap of his hips, shifting your hips to feel more of him, desperate for as much as he can give.

Then Jimin stands upright, grabbing your legs to push them into his chest and away from your own, wrapping around them and using them as leverage. His movements don't stop and he grunts lowly with each thrust, making you see stars each time he hits your g-spot.

He pants above you, driving his hips deeper into you, his muscles taut as he flexes his thighs and his thrusts become even rougher.

“Shit, Jimin…” you plead yet you don’t know what for as his motions make your body move up and down against the mattress.

“What is it, baby? Tell me,” he hisses, eyes furrowed as he stares at your lips. “I’ll give it to you…” he grunts, his thrusts now matching his pants, hands getting tighter at the supple flesh of your hips.

“Jimin, please…” you whine, driving your hand to tap on your clit to clue him in.

He curses again, bating your hand away for one of his own to land against your nub and begin rubbing circles into it.}}

You remove your other hand from your chest to press at your clit as you drive two fingers harshly into your soaked pussy with the other. You feel your high approaching and you don’t dare stop.

{{You scream in pleasure at the added friction, legs moving as Jimin releases them to wrap around his waist. You drive your heels against his ass to press his cock further into you.

“How are you so fucking wet for me, huh? Did my thighs turn you on this much, baby?” he asks harshly as his fingers pick up their pace, sending you into a wholly new sensation.

You moan out loud at his words, nodding your head quickly as if you’ve gone mad. “Yes, fuck, Jimin. I love your thighs, love how thick they are. Wanna rub my cunt all over them, want my clit to go numb with how hard I rub it on them. Want my folds to leak on top of them and stain your jeans. Fuck!” you yelp when your words have Jimin giving a particularly rough thrust.

“Fuck, yeah baby that’s right. Those thighs are gonna make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he hisses from above you, spreading your legs, the stretch burning delightful as another groan falls from your hips.

Finally, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, high-pitched moans echoing inside the room and your cunt begins clenching uncontrollably.

Jimin realises this as his hips move even harder against yours and his fingers are relentless on your clit. “Are you gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum like the dirty little slut you are?”

His words send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name.}}

You repeat the words over and over in your head until you’re a sobbing mess and come harder than you ever did before pressing your palm on your mouth to prevent any noise from getting out.

You lay on your bed spent and breathless, the memory ebbing away once you’re satisfied and your limbs are relaxed in a blissful numbness.

But, that soon also ebbs away, giving its spot to shame.

You just rubbed one off to Jimin.

And yeah okay you did sleep with him once, but you hadn’t used the memories to pleasure yourself before.

Oh god, this is getting out of hand.

You gotta end this crush of yours before it devours you.

[honestsycrets]

What She Really Wants X: What Really Matters

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk has a way of getting what he wants. magnus is sick of being one-upped.

❛  tags | verbal arguments, wedding oriented, referenced underage sex, referenced sexual interaction, underage relationships, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | i've actually had this fic done for some months and totally forgot about it until i was in my drive. thank you @chibisgotovalhalla​ for making me feel good enough to post this. It’s more a connecting chapter.

What Magnus hates about Hvitserk (aside from everything) is how whatever he said, went with you. 

The world could crumble, pebbles could shake boulders on your house, and you would still have Hvitserk on your mind. Because he was your first-- and no one could beat a first. No matter how he worked or raged for a new beginning or for better for Mads. It was still Hvitserk at the end of the day. Mads’s eyes had almost popped out of his skull when Magnus joined the clustered group of friends and parents. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“What did I miss?” he asks because he knows Mads by the expression slapped over his face. That boy has been like his son. He raised him. Loved him. 

“Nothing,” Mads quips quickly, snapping his head back around to the field. His coach howls something long and loud. Mads jabs his finger in that direction. “The game is about to start. C’mon Soren.” 

Despite the fact that Magnus knew there was a certain something very wrong, he didn’t speak as you returned to a very familiar set of bleachers alongside Mad’s new girlfriend. She was pretty. There was a soft and innocent glitter behind those big brown eyes that reminds him of a simpler time in yours. He makes a note to ask Mads after the game all about her when Hvitserk stops on the uppermost stair, guiding you in after Alaia. 

It’s not until they sit, and your hand is laced in Hvitserk’s, does he notice the gems glistening on your finger. 

“What’s that?” he asks, leaning over Alaia’s lap. The girl squints at the rings too, watching it glisten, and smiles when she realizes that she’s forgotten to say something. She speak words that make his stomach drop. As if someone had hauled him off to sea, strapped that very same boulder shook loose by his crumbling world, and threw him out into the deep sea. He was drowning and couldn’t find a way out.

“Oh my god! Congratulations on your engagement, mama,” she beams. “Can I see the ring?” 

Magnus sputters. He’s caught between your jovial smile and Hvitserk’s smug smirk as his eyes burned into the glittering gem. Hvitserk’s hand leaves yours, taking a drink of the metal tumbler that he brought with him as if that would draw attention away from what he’s done this time. 

“There’s two?” Alaia asks.”Papa you didn’t. You’ve gone so far!”

Hviserk chuckles and swashing alcohol between his cheeks before swallowing the spicy liquid. 

“We were engaged in high school. Hvitserk thought I should wear both.” 

“Gonna put that money to use,” Hvitserk mutters, the faint scent of yeasty alcohol on his breath kissing your cheeks. He looks out to the field and catches Mads sheepishly waving. He waves back. “Been waitin’ to get married to my old lady for years.” 

“It’s going to be so great,” she claps her hands together. “I’m happy for you.”

The field cheers through the end of the national anthem. Two dozen players jog onto the grassy stage, flicking the ball between their feet. Go Mads, go! Alaia squeals until her voice becomes high pitched, grating, and odd. She’s the kind of girl that should be on a cheerleading team, but belongs on the football team. She’s outgoing, witty, and you find you like her. 

For all that screaming, Mads’s team loses 2 to 1. Alaia beats you off the bleachers and zooms down the stairs to find your son. You’re stuck with the impending explosion that has been boiling to ahead all evening. It finally overflows as people filter out of the bleachers like a herd of stampeding cattle. Their loud chatter blocks out the bulk of conversation. 

“You really thought that was a good idea.” Magnus curls his fingers under the cold metal of the bleacher seat. “He hasn’t been back a year and you’re already going to marry him.” 

“What is with you? It is her choice,” Hvitserk interjects. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” 

“Fuck off, rat faced motherfucker.” Hvitserk snaps. “You don’t know when to quit bitchin’.”

It’s spiraling. You know the men well enough to know when Magnus and Hvitserk are headed for trouble. Hvitserk loves a good fight. He lurches up in his seat, probably ready to chuck him down a few flights of bleacher stairs. You grasp Hvitserk’s hand, settling it on your thigh for to restrain him from doing something that you knew he’d regret. Not for his sake, but Mads. Rather than answer Magnus, you stand up and wipe your skirt down. 

“Mads is waiting. C’mon baby.”

You leave him feeling unheard. In the seventeen years that Mads had been alive, he’d not once felt this way. He had been the father figure here. The one who took the kid out to these father events that you lost with the death of your father and the disappearance of your family from Hvitserk’s clutches.

Then he came back. He gave Magnus that same, age-old shit-eating grin, and disappeared behind you. It wouldn’t have burned so much if he wasn’t at the exact same school of the past. The same one where he got his teeth knocked in-- right here. The bleachers may be different but the area is the same. It’s the same place where everything changed. He sits there long after you’ve disappeared down the steps to meet your son.

“Where’s morbror?” Mads, sweaty and panting, has his hand slung over Alaia’s shoulder.”I thought he was coming for burgers.”

You reach for Hvitserk’s hand and lace his fingers with yours. Hvitserk stands behind you with his hand latched neatly around your waist. He cradles your hip as you come up with the latest of poorly formulated excuses. 

“He has to go to work in the morning, baby.”

Better you lie than Hvitserk. 

 Alaia is way too touchy. 

You recognize it in the way she clings to his arm on one hand and punches him with the other. Whatever the cost was, she had to be touching him. All over him. Not just a little friendly kiss or holding hands, but you know for a damn fact that she strokes his thigh or trails up the taut pale muscles of his flat belly.

“They’re fucking,” you say pointedly. 

Hvitserk throws a look over his shoulder to where they were a few rows down. Alaia slips a salty-sweet strawberry candy between Mads’s lips. Alaia’s other hand is certainly not on her own lap, that’s for sure. 

“Huh?” Hvit says around a half eaten sausage. He takes a swig of his booze, “Ya think?”

You thwack him in the arm and glance at the dark aisle beside you. The movie Mads wanted to watch was old. So much so that the theatre reflected its age. “How is he not fucking her? Hvitserk!”

Hvitserk took a glance down. From what he could tell, Mads was the shy one. He glanced down to what had to be a handsy— because he had plenty of those in his day. 

“Calm down. He ain’t initiating anything.”

“So she’s a predator?” You hiss. 

“C’mon baby, they're the same age.” He says, as if that’s exclusionary, and as if that made any difference in the world. “Ain’t like he’s screamin’ for help.”

There’s a shush— the next few aisles down. 

“Aw, you poutin?” 

No reply. Hvitserk glances toward Mads and Alaia, content with his choice, and slips his hand underneath the lip of your skirt. He considers himself a rather patient man but your worries when all he wanted to do was relax? Na. 

“Hvit stop— We used to be like that. Remember?” Hvitserk cuts you off, rubbing his thumb where he shouldn’t, cutting an outrageous smile. 

“This isn’t about us.”

“Ain’t it?” 

It’s not. The soft tingles of his fingertips, caressing your thighs, runs shivers up your spine. Your hand falls on top of his wrist, holding him firmly where he was. Hvitserk glances down toward his hand, then back up. An easy fix: you loved it when he pressed his lips to your neck. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Hvitserk’s lips part, broadening his shit eating smile. “Doing what?” 

Oh, he knew what. But he loved being called out for it.

His far isn’t bad at football.

“Fuckin’ what the fuck was that!” 

The ball whizzed into the goal behind him and Mads was left wheezing for breath. Not because he was tired. The old man might only be thirty-six but he sucked at playing against him. Hvitserk plucked up the football between his fingers and spun it over and over between his finger tips. He twisted his head from the goal to the ball in his hands.

“A goal,” Mads gestures. “You know? Or, guess you don’t since you ain’t scored all night.” 

“Shits rigged,” Hvitserk says, dropping the ball and kicking it back to Mads. 

Mads shrugs and suggests, “Should’ve picked something you’re good at. You won’t beat me at this.”

“Tch,” Hvitserk throws his arms behind his head. “I ain’ good at shit.”  

Except maybe selling drugs and chasing prostitutes. All of which his father has made exponentially clear he doesn’t want Mads doing. Mads stops with his sneaker on top of the ball, rolling it up and back, then flicks it between his feet. 

“Have to be good at something. Don’t you have a hobby or something?” 

Hvitserk peels off his white shirt sodden with sweat and uses it to wipe away the moist sweat dribbling past his eyebrow. He gestures his hand to the dark wooden wedding band that was strapped to his finger. The wedding is next week and while he’s not technically married yet, Hvitserk wore it as some sort of unspoken promise.

“My hobby was women. Not allowed to do that shit anymore. Getting married next week, yeah?” 

“Wow, well, uh.” Mads picks up the ball at his feet and searches for words. It’s always nice-- when your own son is amazed at how amazingly shitty of a person you were. Hvitserk chews his cheek, running his thumb along the drawstring at his hips to tighten it up. They walk lazily with one another to start the trek back home. 

“I...” Hvitserk starts. “Liked to paint.”

“Gang signs?” he teases. He imagines his father with a can of spray paint or something-- tagging some poor idiot’s unsuspecting business. 

“Na, women-- like Renoir.” 

“Ren who?” 

“I fuckin’ hope ya ain’t going to France like that,” he tsks his tongue, throwing his hand around Mads’s shoulder, chasing away the thought of the Wolves that were so at the forefront of his mind. “Take a class in French first.” 

“I’m taking Spanish.” 

“Spanish? Wha’s so important about-- oh wait. Fuck,” Hvitserk almost laughs, but it comes with the realization that Mads’s little girlfriend was, in fact, Hispanic. He ruffles Mads’s sweaty hair, shaking loose droplets into the air. “Tha’s my boy.” 

There are moments in which Mads feels like his father’s son.

Today was one of them. 

The date sped up on him faster than it should have.

This time, Hvitserk was insistent: the wedding had to happen as soon as possible. After all, he was thirty-six. He wasn’t going to be a man that was forty and single. No, he wasn’t. Not if he had everything he wanted; a woman and his very own grown-ass son. He had something to prove to that son. That he was serious about his family. 

“What’cha think,” Hvitserk grumbled. His hair, newly cropped short, waved in silky honey waves around the side of his face. His jaw was peppered with a new sort of scruff, worlds apart from his clean-shaven, long-haired past. The suit was slim, crisp, monochrome like you liked it. Better be like you liked it: he wasn’t the type to wear suits for just anyone. His woman? Special exception there.

His son stood back. “Yeah, looks nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

He slipped in front of the mirror and gave himself a once over. He turns the ring on his finger over and over until he has residual finger ring burn. He bites down on his lip, ripping it between his teeth. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to his single man’s life; it was the fact that his remaining brothers were coming. Bjorn, Ivar, and Ubbe. Would Mads like them?

“Where my boots?” 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious. There’s a powerful thud at the door, then another. Booming laughs fill in the hallway just outside the room. Hvitserk exhales strongly. His large hand lands on Mads’s shoulder with a clasp. 

“Those would be your uncles.”

Mads, the little baby, looks panicked as the door cracks open. Ivar knocks open the door, dressed in a deep maroon and black suit. It’s crisp and formed to his chest. You should at least like it-- given the shit that Ivar has given you this year, he looks good. Why would be expect anything less?

“Man c’mon,” Hvitserk rolls his eyes. “Could’ve waited man. My kid--” 

“Why would I wait?” Ivar hums, hobbling forward. “You’ve been keeping my nephew hostage from me. Come here boy.” 

“With good reason,” Sigurd can’t help but to comment. “You don’t really want to know him. He’s a--” 

“Would you both shut up,” Mads hears another man say. He has ruddy hair and a ruddy beard, with sharp blue eyes. He is almost considerate-- if not for the wolfish look in his eyes, he could almost be considered the most placid of the brothers. Instead, he seems to be someone who is always planning. “You’ll scare him away.” 

Hviserk settles a lily in the pocket to his suit and fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves. Strange, he thinks, how you pick lilies. They’re a bittersweet flower for him to this day. When he bought you flowers, they were roses. Whatever possessed you to chose lilies, he’s not sure. It couldn’t possibly be-- Thora. No, you couldn’t remember her.

“Far,” Mads looks over and pleads for some guidance in those soft, bright eyes of his. His eyes snap toward Ivar’s dragging feet, then the drunken stamped in from huge Bjorn and comparatively more calculated steps from Ubbe. “Help.” 

“What is there to be afraid of, hm?” 

“Go on, go to Ivar.” Hvitserk swings his hands at his hips. Mads looks up the broad body of the blond man and inches toward the darkest haired brother. Probably not the safest of brothers to be speaking to but he’s heard his name multiple times before. Uncle Ivar was scary. And safe. “They won’t hurt you. They’re my brothers.” 

“You want a drink, boy?!” 

“A dr-- drink?”

Hvitserk wonders why he ever thought he could be a Wolf.

Asta has always been supportive. Too supportive. You knew, somewhere inside, she wasn’t happy about your choice to get married to a man that had gotten her into some trouble. Her whole life could have gone down the tubes thanks to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” she said in her slim baby pink maid-of-honor dress. Your hairdresser affixed a soft baby pink pearl pin into your hair. “You can always wait like we said.” 

“Waiting…” You glanced down toward your dress, smoothing out the dress’s slim bodice, leading out into its flowy a-line tulle skirt. Your loved the crisscrossing pearls that formed the straps over your shoulder and connected front and back-- maybe a little sexy for your hypersexual husband-to-be. Everything had gone perfectly. Your make up-- a natural, gentle shimmery pink. Everything was soft and natural, and pretty-- and you were so damn happy. “I’ve been waiting long enough.” 

“I know.” 

“And I want to do it,” you held the bouquet of fresh pink lilies. “I want him.” 

“That’s too much information,” she teases.

The door creaked open behind you. While subconsciously, you knew that it wasn’t him-- you needed to know. “Magnus isn’t coming, is he?” 

“It’s just me, mor.” 

You exhale forcefully. You knew it would be a stretch to ask Magnus to give you away. After what happened to your father, Magnus had agreed to do so with whoever you chose. For sixteen years you banked on that promise. Only now, when it came down to it, he refused to do so. 

“It’s a silly tradition anyway.” 

Asta begins to protest that she can do it when your son, bless him, intervenes by kneeling down by your knee. His large hands overtook yours. Your hairdresser stepped aside after having affixed the veil to the top of your head. Everything had been going so well. Something… had to go wrong, right? That was the way that days went. They could never be absolutely perfect! 

“I’ll do it. I can give you away.”

“You’d do that?” you ask him, unbelievably. You look between Asta-- and Alaia, who looks angelic in a puffy pink dress beside your son. Mads perches kneels beside you, looking like all the man you ever hoped he could be in every sleepless night that you spent up with him as a baby-- wishing that Hvitserk was there. Knowing that your mother said he could never be. 

“But you thought I should wait.” 

“Yeah but; I love you. That’s what matters, right? That you’re happy?” 

That, more than anything, was enough for you. You press back the insistent prick of heat at the corner of your eyes and nod. As you stand up on clumsy metal heels, your boy is there with his hand encouragingly around your waist. Alaia looks for your bouquet of assorted blush and white flowers: lilies.

For a moment-- just a moment, its you and him. No one else matters in the grand scheme of things. He settles the bouquet of flowers between your fingertips, pulling the sheer veil back over your face. “You look… perfect, mor. He’s missing out.” 

“Yeah, that’s what matters, baby.” 

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke​ @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm

[qwertyfingers]

we know that bobby only watched ds9 and dean watched the tos movies for sure which implies he's seen tos as well (plus he calls jack spock). so what do you think everyone's favorite trek is? sam is without a doubt a tng fan first and foremost. i think out of all tos movies cas prefers the wrath of khan because he Feels Things when kirk and spock do the ta'al through the glass. charlie has definitely seen some trek (we've seen her llap), do you think she's into tos first and foremost? anyway let's talk about star trek nights in the bunker.

OKAY SO I HAVE. MANY MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS. SORRY THIS IS SO LONG.

like. like of COURSE bobby only likes ds9 of course he does i could have told you this without the show becuase like. bobby is That Bitch. i think rufus will have watched TOS at least because leonard nimoy worked hard on linking jewish faith and practices into the vulcan lore and i think that would mean something to him. bobby will catch rufus smiling at him sometimes while they’re watching ds9 and ask him what all gruffly and rufus will smirk at him and say something about sisko with jake and bobby with dean and bobby will just cough and take a swig of whiskey and rufus will raise his eyebrows but let it slide. rufus definitely makes a comment once about dean&cas being like jake&nog that totally flies over dean’s head but bobby is all knowing eyebrow raise about.

i think cas and jack would really like discovery. while it has some issues with inconsistency, pacing, being a little dark, it also does better than the other TV treks at utilising the nature of film as a medium to instill a sense of wonder, at space and the world, and that’s something they’d really appreciate. i have my own issues with disco, but an obol for charon is as close to the central core of trek that disco ever gets. cas and jack also like that one in particular because they like listening to all the different languages being spoken. they all love michael (everyone loves michael). cas’ faves are stamets and reno because they’re mean and gay, jack’s fave is tilly because she’s excitable and bright and he latches onto that. dean likes reno because she’s got spunk. sam’s fave is airiam and he will never forgive them for killing her off. sam, cas and dean all feel an uncomfortable kinship with both ash and culber - they’ve both been the one with monster teeming under the surface, controleld by something not themself, but they’ve also all spent that time in hell/purgatory, separated from everyone they love.

thinking about episodes that would really get to them all, darmok is. THE ONE. i have a whole unfinished essay about darmok as the platonic ideal of star trek; the perfect distillation of everything trek is SUPPOSED to be about. it doens’t always get there but by god it tries! that speech michael gives in the disco s2 finale - “There's a whole galaxy of people out there who will reach for you. You have to let them. Find that person who seems farthest from you and reach for them.” - that’s what darmok is about!!! it’s all about a situation where real communication seems impossible, where everything we know about talking and learning has broken down. and picard says, okay, i will find another way. i can’t relate to you, you can’t relate to me, but by god i’m going to try. we all meet people we have trouble communicating with in our lives, and often, those people will not care about changing their own ways to accommodate us. for people with autism, adhd, psychosis, the list goes on, this is a very common occurrence. it’s exhausting and frustrating and alienating. darmok is all about crossing that barrier. about reaching for someone through a world of difficulty and learning how to talk. learning how to share something with someone who seems out of our reach. it’s beautiful, it’s heartwrenching, it means more to me than i can easily put into words! 

anyway i think the bunker fam would experience a lot of emotions watching it together. there’s defintiely a lot of hugging eachother, sam cries a lot and won’t look at anyone until after the episode ends. jack just asks a lot of questions and talks about his progress learning sign language with cas. dean snakes his hand into cas’ halfway through and doesn’t let go. doesn’t show the emotion on his face, but he clutches harder at the emotional beats. cas runs his fingers through jack’s hair and thinks a lot, and decides not to say anything unless dean talks first. its just a Lot for everyone. 

dean def makes them marathon all the TOS and TNG movies. it’s an experience everyone needs at least once. i think you’re right about cas and TWOK with the ta’al through the glass, but also ‘this simple feeling’ and the hand hold would make him feel crazy. bones being the one that spock entrusts with his katra DEF makes dean feel some type of way because as much as destiel is kirkspock-coded, dean IS bones, and seeing spock trust bones so completely despite how at odds they were when they first knew eachother would dig deep into dean’s psyche and make him more than a little bit nutso. the movies are way too long for jack so he mostly sits and plays animal crossing while they watch and looks at the screen when everyone else gasps or when something exciting is happening that holds his attention for a while. sam’s fave is nemesis precisely because it’s terrible and he loves how camp it is.

dean has definitely seen all of trek. i refuse to believe someone who watches as much tv and films as dean wouldn’t sit and watch the whole shebang. i think he’s probably seen TOS and the TOS movies more than the others because its easier than sitting through 7 seasons, but i think rather than that being his favourite he’d just have really strong opinions about the best episodes of each one? like if you asked him what his favourite is he’d say you can’t answer that because they’re all so different from eachother

VOY - bride of chaotica, non seqitur, macrocosm for the favourite episodes. seven, janeway and tuvok would be his favourite characters. he think toms a bit of a knob but also feels a kinship with him for the similar brand of bab dad-ism but he wouldn’t be able to put that into words. he’s also a fierce defender of threshold being a good episode (he’s right for that)

DS9 - our man bashir it’s our man bashir. he doesn’t dislike ds9 but its very plot heavy and he didn’t care for it when he was younger. rewatching it after living through multiple supernatural wars he’d probably appreciate it more. i know for a fact he cries every time there’s an episode about sisko being a good dad. jadzia and garak are his faves

TNG - he LOVES q. he also absolutely will not be caught dead referencing how much loves q after cas comes into his life because sam will do the little brotherly knowing eyebrow raise at him and he will die of embarrassment. he regularly references ‘there are four lights’ because he’s a fucking nerd. he has made cas watch elementary my dear data and fistful of datas a half dozen times each at LEAST. cas KNEW how dean was going to be about the cowboy hat he’s defintiely got into full cowboy getup at home just for watching movies and in cas’ head star trek is fully to blame.

TOS - oh there are so many good TOS eps to choose from. obv he loves most of the series becuase TOS has MANY banger eps, his favourites are probably like. mirror mirror, amok time (baby dean defintiely had some kind of crisis watching it for the first time; i know the rituals are intricate). i know deep in my bones that dean watched the conscience of the king (introduction of the tarsus iv massacre) once and then spent his entire teenage years writing fic about that in his head, whether he posted it or not. dean related too much to those experiences of shared hunger. city on the edge of forever is one of everyone’s faves for a reason (and i’m STILL mad we never got a closer take on that episode in spn it could have been so fun). 

ENT - he definitely thinks enterprise is stupid and he’s not wrong but he has also definitely watched it and been very repressed about the whole thing. mans was like oh i feel a kinship with malcolm reed the obviously repressed queer man. i will never examine this feeling ever again thank you <3 he also makes fun of archer for being obsessed with, of all sports, water polo. shran is his favourite character because he’s a little shit and makes him laugh, and t’pol, because t’pol is a badass and he’d appreciate that. i can’t remember the title of a single episode off the top of my head though lol.

i can see what you’re saying about sam being a TNG stan. i’m conflicted though, I feel like TNG’s generally the favourite of 1) obnoxious nerds who think knowing trivia facts makes them smart, 2) men desperately trying to seem masculine and 3) people who’ve watched it three times and have extremely complex thoughts on the personhood and rights of robots. i could see sam fitting into the third group, but people who are in it for the robot feelings are a coin flip between voyager and tng being the fave, and i just have a feeling that voyager would be his favourite. i know kid sam is getting gender envy watching voyager in shitty motels while dad and dean are out, trying to find the words for it. his first semester at stanford he talks a friend into giving him the janeway haircut and rides that high for months. sam’s favourite characters are seven and EMH. 

sam and dean have definitely had dozens of long drawn out debates about philosophical topics in star trek. do the holograms deserve rights and if so which ones. are the romulans and vulcans still meaningfully the same people. was spock right for trying to foment reunification by going undercover on romulus. can the borg be redeemed. etc etc.

i haven’t seen any of picard at all so i can’t comment. i also think sam and dean probably read a lot of the trek books? they’re pretty common to find in secondhand bookstores and cheap, would have been even cheaper back in the day. sam probably doesn’t care for them much, dean has a few solid faves though. i’ve only read the disco books so i can’t comment anything specifically (besides the fact that i think dean read dead endless and cried like a baby), but some of the TOS and DS9 books are gay as hell and i know dean was eyes emoji-ing that shit. 

[littlebitoffanfic]

Lessons

Fandom: Wrong Turn 4 Relationship: Sawtooth, One Eye, Three Finger Request: I haven’t done this before but I was wondering if you could right a one shot for the hilliker brothers from wrong turn. I would like it to take place during wrong turn 4 but if that’s not something you can/want to do then you can choose. I’m not picky. I really love your blog btw and you’re such a talented writer and I just can’t wait for what you have planned next. I wish you the best of luck!

A/n: I wasn’t sure if you meant it to take place during the actual movie. Then I started thinking about having the reader around during the plot and my mind ran away with the idea. I took some creative liberties with the plot. Hope you don’t mind 😊 also, if this isn’t what you were after, just let me know. Im always happy to revisit these guys haha.

  You were fuming. Absolutely livid as you paced back and forth by the doors, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for them to get back. It was bad enough they had left while you were mid argument but then to be this late back? It was dark out, and they knew you hated the dark in the hospital. Part of you wondered if they were doing it to teach you something. That you couldn’t be there without them. You shook off the thought as best you could. But it still lingered. None of you would make it in the outside world, and you could easily survive without them. You could hunt and defend yourself, plus you didn’t have the… physical differences which would make it easier for you to blend into normality. Not that you ever wanted to. And you were sure they would survive if you walked away. But you all stayed together because you loved them dearly, and they loved you. They never said so, they couldn’t speak properly, but they showed it. And on the rare occasions you fought with the brothers, they were the first to apologies.  Today, Sawtooth, One Eye and Three Finger had been unhappy with you because you had went out after someone on your own. You hadn’t been hurt, but you knew that if he had been the slightest bit brighter or stronger, he could have given you a run for your money. But instead of congratulating you for a good kill, Sawtooth got protective, as did the brothers. 

“I can protect myself. I don’t need you hovering over me all the time!” You ended up shouting at them, out of pure annoyance. Sawtooth raised an eyebrow before straightening up and walking out, his brothers in tow. They glanced back at you, but they agreed with Sawtooth and that meant they would follow him. They had all left in the truck 7 hours ago, driving off into the snow. You knew they had been planning on setting up wire around the grounds so if someone was running, they would get caught, so it wasn’t like they had just stormed off. There had been a job to do. But then the hours rolled on and the sun began to set and you felt the fear set in. the building was old, and creaked under the awful weather that only seemed to get worse. To make everything just that little more worse, the powerlines were down and while you could start the generator yourself, you hated going down into the basement to do it. One Eye always did it. Just as you were about to go up and try go to sleep, you heard the sound of engines. Not car ones, but more like motorbikes. Frowning, you looked out one of the top windows and your heart dropped. 4 snowmobiles pulled up outside the hospital. Each had 2 people riding on them. Shit shit shit. One, two or maybe three people you could deal with, but this many? No, you couldn’t cope. You felt panic begin to set in as you tried to think of what to do. The brothers were gone and you had no idea when they’d get back. They had taken their truck and, if they were stuck out in the snow, they were more than happy to bunker down wherever. The best thing you could think to do was keep a close eye on the new comers. Find out whos connected to who, whos weakest, easier to scare, smartest etc. It was all you could. You quietly ran through the hospital, a skill you learned from your many chases with Three Finger. The sounds echoed off the long, deserted halls as you tried to pinpoint where they were, not wanting to run right into them. As the echoes died down, it told you they had entered a room with furnishings. Your knowledge of the building told you it was the lounge area, which the large fire place, some old couches and wheelchairs. You would sit in the large windows in the summer, the warm sun providing a lovely warmth while you read. But in the winter, the room got an awful draft so you and the boys basically abandoned it. You abandoned most the rooms during winter. The main ones that kept being used were the kitchen, the ‘bedroom’ in the attic and a couple of the rooms on the upper floor. Heat rises, after all. As you approached the room, you knew you were right. Slipping into a little janitors closet that had a chip lock so you could lock it from the inside, you knew there was a vent that lead directly between the two. No, you wouldn’t risk crawling inside, but it did allow you to listen. The closet itself was bigger than a standard closet, and mainly empty apart from a bucket, 3 tiered unit that came up to your hips and unit with shelves built into it which was about 5 foot tall and right next to the vent. So you jumped up on the first unit then sat on the second, now able to touch the roof if you reached up just above your head. You heard a girl asking for someone to find stuff to burn. There were footsteps leaving the room before they started talking about someone called Porter. You wondered if the guy you had killed earlier was called Porter, but then you remembered he had had ID that named him David Smith. there was some more talk about phone service, then the others came back and, from the sounds of it, they light a fire. You almost bash your head back on the wall out of boredom. For people who talk so much, they talk about the most dull shit in the world. then they spoke about looking around. Despite wanting to stay in your den, you followed the bigger group as they explored, keeping as close as you could. They went through the files, and you felt a rage build in your chest as they mocked the people who used to be trapped up in here. Just like the guards had. The guards didn’t have so much to say when there wasn’t bars separating them from the people they taunted. You happened to glance out the window when you saw three figures approaching the building. Sawtooth, One Eye and Three Finger. They were focused on what ever they were dragging back, so hadn’t seen the snowmobiles out front. You wondered where the truck was, but then realized it must have gotten stuck somewhere due to the storm. You paused for a moment, frowning. They had trekked back through the storm on foot? They could have bunkered down in the truck for the night, so why fight against the storm? You were happy they were home, but you still felt a rush of anger at the situation. You needed to see them, so you quickly and silently made your way to them. Your pondering meant they had already been through the halls and to the kitchen. When you ran in the room, you noticed how One Eye flinched when he walked in and saw you storming towards them. Three Finger refused to meet your eyes as they filed into the room. But Sawtooth wasn’t with them. “Where have you been?!” You hiss, your voice breaking. Three Finger held up some barbed wire then tossed it to the side when he saw you were still just as angry. Just then, a large figure entered the room, dragging something behind. Something about Sawtooths presence made you feel uneasy. Mainly because you two were still angry at each other. But before anything could be said, he threw the body on the floor between you and the brothers. If this were any other time, you’d have smiled, making a joke about it being a sacrifice to please you. But something niggled at the back of your head. approaching the body, you fell to your knees beside it and started rummaging through the pockets. Until you found a wallet. Opening it up, you found a driving licence. With the name Porter. “Well, that’s one less loose end.” You threw the wallet down. You huffed, about to cuss when suddenly, all the lights flickered on and the sound of loud laugher and cheering echoed through the corridors. Immediately, you saw the three of them go ridged. You rose to your feet, not looking the brothers in the eyes. Turning on your heel, you left the room but they followed. Dragging behind you, you all went towards the noise, slipping into an observatory room with two way glass, you crossed your arms and glared at the group as the brothers looked through the glass. You were now not only angry at the brothers, but at the people as well. They had been the doctors office, had seen some of the files there, they KNEW of the suffering people had endured in these halls and they were dancing around like fucking morons. You saw Three Finger flinch, backing away from the glass a little as they realized why you were so on edge. Why you were now so angry. One Eye looked at you, the guilt obvious in his eyes as he reached out, prepared to comfort you. But you backed away from him, refusing to look at them as you shook your head. Fresh tears pooled in your eyes. They hadn’t been here when you really needed them because they were mad at you. And although they didn’t know of the people coming, you couldn’t just ignore the ache in your chest. You walked through the brothers, who parted to let you through until Sawtooth grabbed your arm. You jumped, not expecting it as you looked up at him. In all honestly, you didn’t know what he wanted. Perhaps it was instinct and he didn’t want you to leave upset. Or perhaps it was because he didn’t want you wondering off when there was a new threat within the building. But you wanted to prove a point, so you yanked your arm back but just as you were about to leave the room, the group of people started using the old wheelchairs as toys and rolled around like morons before making their way to the auditorium. you creeped behind them, with the boys behind you.   you were about to creep to the door when One Eye caught your hand. As with his brother, you were about to yank away when he nodded to the stairs which lead to the upper floor. As if to show you, he pulled you up the stairs and towards the balcony where the group now sat speaking below. One Eye waited by your side, eager for praise from you, but you were too distracted as they managed to play something that made your insides twist painfully. It was the recording of One Eye during an electrotherapy session. You watched as he wrestled against the restrains then his whole body writhed in pain. ‘session’ actually meant ‘punishment’. And One Eye normally ended up in these ‘sessions’ because of you. If he thought the guards were too rough or cruel to you, he would act out. He had attacked god knows how many people because of how they treated you. And he would be punished every time. You remembered crying against the bars as they threw his limp body into the cell with his brothers. Turning, you saw One Eye had noticed the film playing. He had shrank into himself, his gaze on the floor and you noticed his hands were shaking slightly. Stepping closer, you ducked your head under his own and pressed your lips against his in a few chase kisses before nuzzling your cheek against his own as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He responded to your affections, his arms snaking around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. He held you so tight that it hurt, but you didn’t care. You saw something move out the corner of your eyes, your head snapping to see Three Finger and Sawtooth. Three Finger snarled when he noticed the film, obviously defensive of his brother. Sawtooth’s fists clenched by his sides, his face stoic. One Eye pulled back when he noticed his brothers, but didn’t dare let go of you. “We’re in this together, right?” You looked to Sawtooth, who nodded in agreement. “Okay, then this is just like any other prey.” All three nodded in agreement.

 The group of intruders had settle down in the old rooms used for those who could be kept in normal rooms, rather than cells. The brothers were now hard at work, making sure everything was in place for tomorrow. Which included setting up the normal kind of traps. You were about to go back up into your bedroom when you noticed one of the men had went wondering. Right to where Sawtooth had set up the body of Porter. Running, you grabbed Sawtooth by the sleeve and pulled him towards the nurses station.  Apparently, you didn’t need to say a word as he understood. The man started to try square up to the body, threatening him until he seemed to recognise the clothes. You and Sawtooth waited in the shadows until the man touched the body and saw the blood. He turned, but Sawtooth was quick and blocked his path. Using a long metal spike, he jammed it up, through the mans nose and out the other side of the head, killing him. You went to help with the body but Sawtooth pushed you back with a grunt. He gestured towards the kitchen, where the other brothers were preparing some weapons. You tried to follow him again but he dropped the body and stood at his full height, a deep growl leaving his chest. You knew better than to push him further, so you backed off.  He dragged the body towards a half open door, using his foot to kick it further open and you watched before disappearing to find the others.   There was a silence between you both, still some kind of argument going on. You found the others in the back office of the kitchen. The chiefs office, which had a couch that you on, pondering everything that’s happened.

---------------time skip --------------

You don’t know when you passed out, sitting on the floor while One Eye and Three Finger worked on some weapons. When you woke the next morning, Three Finger had moved to sit in front of you and you had a blanket over you. He didn’t appear to be doing anything. Just guarding you as you slept. Reaching out, you ran your finger across his shoulder to let him know you were awake. He turned with a smile, instantly kneeling up beside you and nuzzling into your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle at the affection. One Eye came into the room, chucking something on top of a pre-existing pile crap that you recognised as some of the things the group had left in the lounge. You noticed some cables, spark plug wires from the snowmobiles. He beamed when he noticed you were awake. The morning did feel a lot better, and you were actually excited for the thrill of the chase now.   “Wheres Sawtooth?” You asked, sitting up as Three Finger leaned back. He gestured vaguely towards the door, but you understood. Keeping an eye on the others. As if summoned by your words, Sawtooth walked past the room with a body flung over his shoulders. Three Finger got to his feet and left after him, gurgling to himself. One Eye came and sat by your feet as, fiddling with his fingers in an awkward and shy way. You smiled and crawled to his side, cuddling into him. A sigh of relief left his throat as he pulled you close, apparently afraid you might wake up still annoyed. Three Finger ran back into the room, followed by Sawtooth, now holding a small bundle. A soft grunt told you all that it was time. They were exploring and about to find some unsavoury things. Just as you were about to stay, a grunt drew your attention and the thing Sawtooth was holding was tossed at you. It was wrapped in Porters jacket and you could feel it was the head of someone. Porter or the man who found him, you didn’t know yet. But you felt a swell of pride. Whatever Sawtooth had planned, you were apparently getting a role to play. Disappearing out, you all follow quickly and you started to hear running. The group was split up and agitated. Sawtooth lead you to the auditorium, signalling for his brothers to go up stairs and you to hide behind the black curtains that hid the sides of the stage while the screen was down before he followed his brothers. You managed to hide just in time as they started to funnel in. From what you could gather, they knew one guy was missing, they had seen the blood, they knew you were around somewhere and they needed to get out. Just then, one girl ran in screaming “Theyre gonna kill us all.” The drama queen inside you told you now was the perfect time. You threw the jacket covered object out onto the floor in front of them. “That looks like Porters jacket.” One said. “That is Porters jacket.” The other replied. You peaked around the corner, seeing the black haired girl was approaching it with fear. As she unwrapped the package, you noticed the metal, barbed wire noose that was lowering down from the balcony, a blonde haired girl backing closer to it. Looking up, you saw the brothers had made a pully system. Screams of terror filled the room and during the hysteria, the brothers managed to loop the metal around the girls neck and haul her up. The guy she was with tried to stop her, to help her, but he only made it worse. He grabbed her feet and pulled her down, allowing the metal to saw through her neck with ease at the tension. The rest of the group simply screamed, tried to get out the side doors which were locked. The man lost his grip and slipped back into the puddle of blood, screaming just before she was fully decapitated, her body falling either side of him as the group ran for the main exit. He screamed again before tried to get up but slipped on to the blood again and again before running for the exit after his friends. That was entertaining.   Once clear, you left your hiding spot just as the boys came down. You walked to the edge of the stage, in no real hurry as Sawtooth came up. He came up and gently lifted you down, making you giggle and press a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want this feud to drive a wedge between you both. But you had no idea if he accepted your little ‘truce’. The four of you went back to the kitchen. The group couldn’t go anywhere anyway. They would either freeze to death outside, or come back in and barricade themselves in one of the offices near the front door. You ended up sitting on the counter while Three Finger carved up the headless body. There was a new sense of peace in the group and you felt whatever tension between you and Sawtooth had mostly disappeared. The boys squabbled as always as Sawtooth tried to take a little more than a snack and Three Finger wasn’t having it. If there was something Three Finger prided himself on, it was being able to strip flesh from bone in a clean way, and it didn’t look clean if Sawtooth kept picking at it. You smiled, but never ate anything raw. You didn’t like it, but the brothers did. Suddenly, you heard running, heading for the lower levels. But you saw Three Finger had heard it too. He threw his cleaver into the meat and ran to follow, scooping up an axe on the way. You considered going with him, till One Eye appeared and took the moment to step in front of where you were sitting and kiss you. But he too left, heading towards where the group must have bunkered down. Probably to torment them a little more. Sawtooth walked in as you had just jumped down, feeling a little lonely. He walked up to the body, about to take another piece but you slapped him hand away with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He knew you were playing, and simply picked you up and moved you away to grab a bite. You huffed indignantly but he carried you into the chiefs office and sat you down with a strict “stay” gesture before he disappeared too. -------------------

You didn’t hear anything again from the boys until screaming filled the kitchen. You felt a surge of dread while disappeared when you looked out and saw they were tying down one of the guys to the table. You felt a shiver run through your spin because you knew what they were going to do. You didn’t like when they stripped flesh off of someone whos alive. You didn’t like the way they screamed during it, but you help nevertheless. You didn’t let anyone cut the potatoes or onion because you were convinced they would chop off their fingers one day. Three Finger heated up the oil and you brought the cutting board with veg over to the group. Placing it down, you felt One Eye grab your hand, silently asking you to stay, but you shook your head, kissing his cheek to show you didn’t have any issues with them though. You disappeared into the chiefs office, content with reading through the recipe books. You sat for a while, flipping through the books while the screams slowly died down. When they finally seemed to stop, you ventured out, smiling as you entered the kitchen with the boys. One Eye went to smile back at you, but apparently was in the middle of biting down and started to choke. You didn’t noticed straight away as you cleared away a couple of things but then you noticed Three Finger and Sawtooth hitting his back. You were about to panic, when one of Three Fingers knocks made him cough up the chunk and it flew across the table into the oil. Three Finger and One Eye started to cackle just as you were about to laugh when suddenly, someone smashed something red across the back of Sawtooths head. The man then went for one Eye but Sawtooth pushed him passed the table as Three Finger managed to back the man off a bit. Until screaming filled the room. It all happened so quickly. The group ran into the room, screaming and brandishing weapons. In all truth, you didn’t originally move. It was Sawtooth who grabbed you and pushed you to move and run. You didn’t get a chance to think as you raced through the hallway only to have one way blocked off with fire. Down into the cells you were all chased before, somehow, you ended falling into a cell at the dead end. not just any cell, though. The Hillikers original cell. The group slammed the door shut, locking you in. Sawtooth stood with his arms held out in front of his brothers, Three Finger to his left and One Eye to hid right. You were positioned directly behind the three of them. “Lets kill them.” Someone walked up the corridor, the girl who had caused the fire. “yeah, Jenna, lets do it.” The shorter girl with black hair agreed. “wait, wait. We cant just kill them.” The taller girl shook her head, looking confused. “Why the fuck not?” The man snapped. “They killed our friends and theyre gonna kill us then fucking eat us.” “Yeah we’re not them.” The tall black haired girl gestured towards the cell. “Fuck that!” The man turned to the cell, shining the torch in. “look at me. Look. At. Me. Fuck you, you mother fuckers. Im gonna cut your heart out, you mother fuckers. You understand that?” “I didn’t know there was a girl.” The girl with the curly black hair spoke, eyeing you up just before Three Finger stepped in front of you, snapping his jaws at them. “Shes fucking them.” The guy suddenly realised, his eyes darting to the brothers who instantly became more protective of you. “What, is she your sister? Freaks!” “No, she doesn’t look like them.” Another said. “I saw her file. Well, Daniel showed me. She was just dump here by her parents. They, they bonded or something. I dunno. But the file said never leave them all together.” “We aren’t opening that cell again, Sara!” The girl who was with ‘Sara’ shook her head, backing away from the cell. “No, youre right, Bridget.” The man gritted his teeth, turning to the girl with the yellow top. “Go get the other kerosene lantern. We’re gonna roast these fuckers alive.” You felt a new wave of fear run through your veins as the girl took off running. The girl who had spoke out against the idea looked deeply troubled as the man, who was still covered in his girlfriends blood, glared into the cell. One Eye glanced to you, and you could see he was worried. You all were. When she came back, the man started to dump the oil from the lantern through the cell door and onto the floor. All three backed away and you ended up pressed against the furthest wall, Three finger stepping closest to you. he finished and then pulled out a lighter. “Time for a barbecue, fuckers.” He growled at you all. You noticed Sara closed her eyes, seeming as if she was against this idea as well. “Kyle. Don’t do this.” The girl, whos name you think is Kenia, says. “They deserve it.” Kyle turns to the group, apparently sensing that it wasn’t a universal agreement. “Yeah they do, but you don’t.” She steps closer. “Don’t do this to yourself. Give me that lighter. Give me the lighter.” After a tense moment, one which you were sure he would throw the lighter down and set the floor on fire, he flicked it close and shoved the lighter back in his pocket. “Well, what are we gonna do now?” Bridget threw her hands up in the air in annoyance. “We find the spark plug wires, and we leave in the morning. Storm or no storm.” Kenia said before turning to the cell and talking to the four of you. “Where are the spark plug wires?” The wires. Theyre in the chiefs office. You had closed over the door, but would they think to look int here? You didn’t know. No one answered her, One Eye flitting to the other side of the cell. “Basards cant even talk.” Kyle rolls his eyes. “Fine, then we search. Room by room.” Kenia thinks quickly. “Okay but somebody has to watch them.” Jenna nods to you. “I will.” Kyle volunteers and you instantly raise an eye brow. It appeared from Kenias expression, she had the same thoughts as yours because he turned to her. “I wont touch a fucking hair on their head. Okay?” “Okay.” “Just go look for the wires. Send someone back in a couple of hours to relieve me. We’ll take shifts throughout the night.” He rattles off his plan, and apparently everyone silently agrees as thye file out of the room, leaving him. “Hey, you?” Kyle spoke directly to One Eye who was circling back to you, but was curious and paused. “Are you hungry?” You felt sick, knowing this was going to be some sick joke. But One Eye was the most trusting of the three brothers as the man offered him something from a packet. Before you could stop him, One Eye went to the bars but the man hit his hand.

“Fuck you, motherfuckers. You thought I was actually gonna feed you?” Three finger let out a cackle as One Eye back away to you. You instantly looked at his hand, making sure of no damage. Sawtooth growled lowly. “You know im actually gonna kill all four of you, don’t you? I will. Im gonna say I forgot something, then im gonna come back and im gonna kill each and every one of you freaks.” “Piss off.” You hissed, looking up at him. “You- you speak.” He shines the touch at you, so you smirk at him. “Right, you speak. Motherfucker. So, why’d you do it? Huh?” “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” You walk up to the bars, placing your forehead against the cool metal. “Wheres the sparkplug wires?” He raised the flashlight and shone it into your face. You smiled, and with a half-hearted shrug of the shoulders, you retreated from the cell door. “Just sleep tight.” Kyle snaps at you through the bars. All three of the brothers quickly moved in front of you, making you smile softly at them. You felt dread building in your chest as you struggled to think of something. You walked into the corner off the cell, struggling to breath as you felt the walls closing in on you. You needed to hide the panic you felt from the group. But you hadn’t been down this area since the breakout, and for good reason. Closing your eyes, you tried to calm yourself so you could think straight. Someone rubbed your arms reassuringly and you opened your eyes to see Three Finger standing in front of you. You immediately stepped close to him, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you sought intimacy. He offered you it, almost purring when you cuddle into him and his arms wrapped around you. For a while, he stood with you, calming you down. In truth, Three Finger was the best when you were like this. One Eye would get too worked up and start to panic while Sawtooth was the complete opposite and offered you no sympathy for fear of showing weakness. But Three Finger knew to keep you close and even nuzzled against you. You felt the panic in your chest start to ease, and you were able to think straight. Looking up, you smiled gratefully, but despite his own dorky smile back, you could see he was concerned, and probably scared. Pulling back, you were also grateful that he had manged to position himself to stand directly between you and the bars. He blocked your view of the guy who was now guarding you all, so you glanced past him as saw the man had passed out on the floor. If you could only get out. Looking back to Three Finger, you could see the worry in his eyes, and both One Eye and Sawtooth watched on in concern. In a few hours, you would be burned to death, and they were more worried about you having a stupid panic attack. They had always cared for you more than themselves, even back in the old days, before you all escaped. An idea shot into your mind like lightening. the pin! Suddenly, you grabbed Three Finger and yanked him over to the basin. after they had escaped and freed you, you had found the pin on the ground and decided that it needed to stay down in their old cell, just in case the orderlies managed to get everyone back under control. So you had hidden it. Getting down on your hands and knees, you reached under the pipes, your hands just fitting as you felt the cold metal of the pin. Pulling it out, you turned back and offered the pin to Three Finger. You saw his eyes light up at the sight of it, the very tool which had offered you your freedom all those years ago. his eyes trailed up to you, and he grinned wickedly. You felt your stomach backflip as you smiled, your fears long forgotten as he taken the pin from your hands. Sawtooth and One Eye hadn’t seen the exchange, or what you had given Three Finger, so they watched as Three Finger crept to the bars of the cell. You followed but One Eye reached an arm across you. They wanted to keep you to the back to protect you. taking his hand, you watched anxiously as Three Finger reached through the bars and started to pick the lock. Every little creak made your heart skip a beat as you waited for the man to wake up. But then you heard a ping, and held your breath as Three Finger started to slowly pull the cell door open again. Sawtooth was first out, taking long purposely strides to the sleeping man. He grabbed him by the throat, pushing him against the wall as he dragged him up to eye height. The fear in the mans eyes was undeniable as he realised how badly he had fucked up. Sawtooth raised his fist and with one sharp jab, the man was knocked out. Three Finger cackled menacingly as Sawtooth picked him back and threw him over his shoulder, leading the way out. You all followed, knowing there was no point hanging around here in case they did find the plug and came back to get their friend. Up, through the corridors you went till you came to the kitchen. Three Finger quickly checked around while you made sure the spark plugs were still where one eye had left them. They were. That was lucky. You came out and saw the had laid the guy on one of the tables, about to kill him. “Wait.” You grabbed Three Fingers hand, stopping him from killing the man. “Cut his tongue out.” The boys looked at you, utterly perplexed. You were normally the more docile of the four, wanting someone to have a quick death rather than long and drawn out. “Cut out his tongue and swap your clothes with him.” You looked pointed at Three Finger as you took the knife and made quick work of the last two fingers on the mans hand. Three Finger, not wanting to upset you again, followed your instructions, swapping his clothes as One Eye cut out the mans tongue. you grabbed a bag and cut eye holes in it before pulled it over his head, tying it there just as Three Finger strapped his gloves on the man. Once he was ready, you got them to help you get the man up to the floor with the girls. Leaning him against the wall, you shook him until you felt him start to move of his own accord. Giving him a rough shove in the direction of the room the girls were held up in, you let him stagger to his feet and he quickly began to stumble away, dazed, confused and in pain. the brothers went to go after him but you held out a hand, stopping them. You watched the man turn right at the end of the hall way. You kept your arm up, and they didn’t cross you. You didn’t need to wait long. You heard the girl battle cry’s as he hobble just into sight before he was bought to the ground by the girls. They had mistaken their friend for Three Finger and now, they were screaming as they stabbed him mercilessly in the back. Poor bastard. you felt Sawtooth push against you, asking to go after them, but you refused. They needed to know what they had done. You needed to break them. Three Finger let out a shrill cackle and their attention snapped up to you. With a smirk, you dropped your arm, and the three brothers stepped forward. The girls scrambled to their feet and fled back to their safe place. You expected the boys to go after them, but Sawtooth stopped, looking back to you. You felt a wave of excitement, knowing what this meant. You were coming along. racing to his side, you beamed at him. You expected him to continue and lead his brothers as he always did, but instead he surprised you. Ducking down, he kissed you. You were taken aback. Sawtooth didn’t kiss. he let you kiss him, but it didn’t seem to mean as much as it did to the others. A kiss was a form of affection he wasn’t fond of, mainly because he could easily tear up your lips if he wasn’t carful. He learned that when you were both young and exploring each other. And yet, he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, locking him in place as you quickly returned the kiss hungrily. Strong arms lifted you up off the ground as if you were as light as a doll. You felt him wrap and arm around your lower back and the other about mid-thigh, holding you tight against his body. Sniggering brought you both out of the moment as his brothers fought to keep their laughter back. Not out of cruelty, but they enjoyed that despite the stone faced brothers approached, he was as much under your spell as they were. He was as much yours as you were his. Giggling, you jumped up slightly to press a kiss to his cheek while the other two headed down the corridor. Something caught his eye in the next room. Before you could ask, Sawtooth went inside and came out with an ice drill. Three Finger cackled, jumping up and down at the new toy. You smirked at Sawtooth, knowing full well that at least one of the girls will meet a painful end at the hands of such a weapon. You stepped aside, bowing comically as you let Sawtooth walk past you and his brothers to lead the next attack. Rounding a corner, Sawtooth heard the running footsteps and the ice drill roared to life, followed by screaming as the girls skidded to run in the opposite direction. they ran for the front door, which had been chained shut during the day. More shrieks as they realised and had to double back on themselves. Suddenly, Sawtooth stopped. He turned to you, giving a single nod towards where the girls were. You understood. Follow them. Darting in front, you ran with silent feet and sensitive hearing. They were heading upstairs, to the attic. You followed them as they ended up stumbling into the room the guys slept in. Your bedroom was in a hidden door off to the side which was locked. And you were thankful. You didn’t want them rummaging through your stuff. The girls found some of the older clothes, pulling them on to keep warm if/when they got outside. This changed the game again. Because now you couldn’t rely on them freezing to death in the current climate. You had to get them before they left the grounds. You kept to the shadows as the girls ran back out the room, through the attic and back down the stairs, towards the east wing. You didn’t follow them the whole way, instead following the drill sound to find the guys. “They went upstairs and found jackets. They’re prepared for going outside.” You ran up, tell the brothers the new information. Sawtooth huffed as you noticed they had pulled on some of their own thick jackets. The ones they had been wearing the night before, so had probably left somewhere in the kitchen area when they came back. One Eye held out your own, which you had kept by the back entrance. Grinning, you kissed his cheek before pulling it on and guided them towards the west wing. One Eye ran ahead to open a door with his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. He rattled the release handle a few times with little avail. “They’ve blocked it.” You mumble, running forward and looking through the window. You couldn’t see anything in the way of the door, so you looked through the small crack between the two door. You saw a thick object connecting the doors. “They’ve jammed something through the handle.” You call over your shoulder to the others. Suddenly, you heard running and just manage to jump out the way as Three Finger’s body collides with the door, falling to the ground. You press your lips together in a harsh line to stop yourself from laughing as you and One Eye look at each other. His amusement did nothing to help your attempts, so you had to raise your hands over your mouth before hearing grunting from Sawtooth. This wasn’t the time for jokes, even if his eyes did betray that he found it rather comical as well. One Eye tried the same body slam, but managed to catch himself without falling. Nothing seemed to budge the door. There was little point in you trying, so you stood to the side as some kind of strange cheerleader. That was, until, Sawtooth walked up to the door. He looked through the window, before walking back and passing the drill to One Eye. He gave himself much more of a run up to the door, and as his mass collided with the door, your noticed it gave a lot more that the previous attempts. And there was a cracking sound. “Its working.” You run up, pushing on the door and seeing it was now moving if only by an inch or so. You stepped back, looking to Sawtooth as he lined himself up again. A second, and third time but it was the fourth that he broke through the door. Three Finger let out a triumphant cackle as the brothers raced through the door, followed by you. Sawtooth took the drill back as they looked in each room, only to find one girl half was out through a burrow in the snow. She ended up crawling back, wiping snow off her face. She didn’t even notice Sawtooth coming up behind her. She didn’t know until the drill was protruding through her stomach as he mangled her insides. The blood sprayed out, only for you to notice one of the girls had climbed back down to try help her. She was pulled back up in a heartbeat before anything could be done. The drill was turned off and the body fell to the floor, lifeless. The brothers, their eyes fixed on the hole, knew where the girls had gone. Three Finger nudged Sawtooth, making a fist with his right hand and mimicking the revving of a motorbike. Sawtooth smirked and nodded as he left the room, you all in tow. “Ill go get the spark plug wires.” You call out, running past the others, knowing it was quicker you going to get them. You ran and grabbed the sparkplug wires before meeting the boys at the door. They now had more weapons, each holding one. Following them outside to the snowmobiles, you handed each of them a plug for each machine except one. You didn’t know how to even begin to wire one up or even drive one. They boys seemed to have a knack at this kind of stuff. “Once this is over, you have to show me how to drive one of these.” You nod to the dormant snowmobile, looking to Sawtooth, who paused for a moment before giving a single nod. Smiling widely, you watched three Finger as he worked. They wired up the machines before revving them to life. Stepping back, you were reluctant to go back inside when you heard Three Finger cackle. You looked at him and he nodded his head to the back of his. you paused, your heart skipping a beat as you prayed you understood him. Glancing to Sawtooth, he gave a single nod and revved the engine, an indicator to hurry up. Smiling, you ran over and swung your leg over the back of Three Fingers snowmobile, locking your arms around his torso. He glanced back at you, making sure you were ready before the other speed off. You cuddled into his back, grinning as the adrenaline from the ride set in. you loved how fast these things could go. They would be a great addition for the days of boredom. Sawtooth followed the girls tracks in the snow, and it didn’t take long to catch up. They circled the girls, getting them worked up. They screamed and cried out, but then Sawtooth signalled for the other to back off. Retreating back, you stood up on the back of the snowmobile to watch what would happen with the shadows in the distance. They couldn’t see you guys, but because they were in the open, you could just make out them. “Theyre splitting up.” You call out, knowing it was best to attack now. Going in for another attack, Three Finger managed to swing and injure one of the girls while Sawtooth grabbed another. You looked up, seeing the girl was struggling too much and started jabbing something into Sawtooths arm. He dropped her, but neglected to notice the incoming low branch. It knocked him right off his snowmobile. One Eye was right behind him, capturing the girl. You and Three Finger went to check on Sawtooth, who stumbled up with a grumble. He fobbed off your calls of concern, rubbing his head before trekking to get his snowmobile. You knew better than to try fuss over him like this. He would just push you away anyways. You would make sure to check him over once his ego isn’t as bruised. Hearing screaming, you look up and see One Eye had got the girl. Getting off Three fingers, you raced over to see what One Eye was doing. Three Finger sped off, in search of another victim. You saw the blood coming out the end of the bike as he looked up at you, waiting for something. “Well done. That’s really inventive.” You smile as the girls scream become weaker then stop entirely when the snowmobile dropped. One Eye beams at you before looking away shyly. Walking through the snow, you reach up and guide his face towards your own before kissing him, deeply. He melt against your kiss, whining slightly as he reached up, cupping your cheek. You were interrupted when you heard a female voice crying out. Heads snapping to the side, you saw one girl running through the snow. One Eye cut a rope on the back before scooped you up and put you on the back of his snowmobile, revving it and racing away. You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding on tightly.

 ------------time skip -------------

 You awoke, well rested and refreshed. Trudging through the hallways, you couldn’t help but feel happy and content. Three Finger appeared, grinning as he grabbed your hand and started to drag you to the front door, where you saw the truck was now out front. Along with a sulking One Eye. Frowning, you notice the bruising starting to appear on his left eye. Racing out the front door, without a jacket, you were in front of him before he knew it, cupping his cheek and looking at the injury. One Eye smiled, ducking his head a little out of embarrassment. He must have gotten hurt chasing the girls when you and Three Finger had come home last night, after you had rode for a bit with Sawtooth of course. Speaking of which, Sawtooth grunted, signalling to the truck as he climbed on the back with the crane part. One Eye stole a quick kiss before you all headed to the truck.  You took pride of place in the front beside Three Finger, which was already nice and warm. You didn’t know where you were driving to, but Three Finger apparently did as, after about 10 minutes, he pulled up beside a bank of snow. Looking out, you saw two bodies, decapitated. They hadn’t got away. Stepping out the truck, you climbed up on the rear wheel to see the brothers in the back of the truck while Three Finger retrieved the heads of the bodies. They didn’t even see the two snowballs you had in your hand until Three Finger had thrown the heads and bodies in the back and got back into the cab. You took the opportunity to hurl the snow at both One Eye and Sawtooth before diving back into the cab and locked the doors. Three Finger cackled as Sawtooth banged on the rear window. You smiled innocently at him, but you felt the sudden dread that you would soon have to get out the cab. “I don’t think I’ll be getting those lessons today.” You giggled as you glanced out the rear window. Three Finger cackled before driving away. You slipped closer to him, cuddling into his side as he drove.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Did I really just get the name of my own fic wrong? If you saw it, for the sake of us both, pretend you didn’t)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  

Chapter 5- Skewed Clarity

That night, Y/n had gone back to her room, dried off and plopped back into bed, more awake and before and irritatingly sexually frustrated. She’d tried dealing with the situation herself, but her efforts were fruitless and unsatisfying; her fingers were small in comparison to Keanu and all in all, she just couldn’t sink into the moment. For the briefest second, as Y/n had laid a top her unmade bed, the softness of the fluffy duvet caressing her skin, she had considered shrugging on her robe and trekking to Keanu’s room, uncaring if he was awake or not and demanding that he’d finish what he started, but Y/n had quickly deduced that she’d need a few drinks well to muster up that kind of courage. Besides, she wasn’t desperate. It was just a matter of politeness really, how dare he leave her like that, with silky moisture between her thighs and an ache to be touched?

After several failed efforts, or perhaps it was just one long one, Y/n had decided that she was through for the night, opting to quickly wash up, get back into her pajamas and crawl back into bed. It had taken almost two hours after that for her eyes to even start drooping and when Y/n finally fell into a fragile slumber, it was past five am.

There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to rectify the heaviness in Y/n’s eyes and as hard as she tried to stifle them, a yawn would escape her lips every few minutes or so. Figures that the night that she’d had the worst sleep of her life would lead to the first time they’d be filming at seven am. 

Really, she blamed Keanu. Who, coincidentally looked far more refreshed than she felt. Maybe it was irrational, but Y/n couldn’t help but be a little annoyed with him. First, he’d been on her mind so much that she couldn’t fall asleep, then he’d interrupted her alone time and gotten her worked up, just so she couldn’t fall asleep again. 

Ugh.

Walking from her trailer, already in costume with her hair and make up done, Y/n tried to chug yet another cup of scalding hot, black coffee before she got to set. It burnt her tongue and the bitter taste was the reason she usually added milk and sugar, but still, she needed to be as energetic as possible, and if her sixth cup of coffee for the morning was what it took, then so be it.  

They were shooting in the large parking lot that morning, which meant that Y/n would have to pass through the studio, to get to the open area at the front, where everything was probably already set up. It was the kind of walk that she ordinarily took with Keanu, but alas, Y/n had been avoiding him since their initial though very brief run in at hair and make-up. She had been heading in just as he was opening the door to leave. Small talk had been a must, though neither of them brought up their earlier encounter, what was there to say anyway? Y/n didn’t know if it had been a joke, if Keanu had actually intended to make her feel ‘some kind of way’, or if all in all, she was reading too much into it. It was awkward and Y/n hated awkward, she hated not knowing and she desperately wished that things with Keanu weren’t so confusing. 

The studio was quieter than it had been most days, though, that should have been expected considering they were meant to spend the next eight hours or so working outside. Jackson had predicted that in one long take, they could cover the entire scene in just about three hours, but that wasn’t accounting for the human factors; mishaps and bloopers. 

By the time Y/n was spilling out into the large, outdoor set up, the morning sun was stinging her eyes again and there was an energetic buzz in the air that had been absent from inside. Y/n began wondering if she’d be able to keep up with the way she was feeling. Why hadn’t she just downed some cough syrup and called it a night?

“Hey,” an unsteady baritone broke Y/n’s thoughts and she immediately clutched her chest, jumping in surprise when he gently touched the center of her back.

“Fuck,” the fright was enough to wake her up a bit, though it didn’t last long. Keanu came to stand next to her, closer than he did before things got complicated and Y/n had a feeling that it was intentional. She could smell the coolness of his cologne, mixing with the enthralling aromas of ground roast and cigarette. Y/n hated when he stood that close, it always got her flustered. 

Though, she didn’t want him to move either 

“You scared the shit outta me,” she sighed, letting her hand return to her side. Her gaze once again to the ongoings before them, not wanting to lock with his chocolate orbs for too long.  Why couldn’t she ever successfully avoid him? 

Keanu chuckled beside her, the throaty sound like water over rocks; smooth and soothing, “Sorry.” He seemed totally unaffected by their run in from the night before but Y/n couldn’t tell if he was faking it or if by some hellish miracle, his short term memory had been erased. It was bad enough that it had cost her a few hours of sleep, she couldn't be the only one with that memory. “I hate to be that person, but you look terrible. Everything okay?”

Scoffing, Y/n folded her arms and rolled her eyes. As if he didn’t know! “I’m fine,” she mumbled, slightly begrudged. With the toe of her block heeled ankle boot, Y/n kicked a rogue pebble, watching as it skipped out of her foot’s reach. The shoe scraped noisily as she dragged her foot back childishly, “Is that what you came over here to tell me?”

Unstirred by her mood, Keanu chortled again, “Somebody’s cranky.” Again, Y/n rolled her eyes, preferring to wallow in her sour, awkwardness instead of asking him anything about the previous night. When Y/n didn’t respond, his grin softened and his words were twisted by flirty undertones, “This is about last night, isn’t it? Don’t tell me a few little words made you all pissy,” Keanu’s breath was hot on her ear as he leaned in and Y/n hoped the set photographer wasn’t nearby to capture the redness painting her cheeks.

Gritting her teeth, she finally turned to face him, her hair whipping his shoulder as she did, “How dare you? First its oh Y/n this was a mistake, then you’re all up in my face, with your stupid smile and your good looks, telling me that you can fuck me real good and then you’re walking away. And-” the ‘v’ in Y/n’s forehead became more pronounced and her mild irritation turned into flustered anger, “Are you laughing at me?”

Tilting his head to the side, “My good looks?” He quoted, taunting her and Y/n groaned, frustrated. Still though, Keanu didn’t look like he had any intention of ceasing his quiet chuckles. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his character’s battered jeans, Keanu dragged his lower lip through his teeth, “I’m sorry,” he looked down for a minute, and Y/n could feel his eyes travel appreciatively up her body as he raised his head again, “You’re just….really fucking cute when you’re mad.”

“See?” Y/n huffed pointedly. It was so hard to tell what they were doing, what he was doing. Was he actually flirting, or was he just plain out fucking with her? “This is too confusing Keanu. You’re just…..”

It didn’t take too long after that for Keanu to lapse into his usual seriousness, hissing in hopes that no one would hear, “You think you’re not confusing too? One minute you acting like you regret what we did and avoiding me like the fucking plague the next we’re in a pool together and you’re basically asking for it.”  

“Do not put this on me,” her finger jabbed into his chest and Keanu caught her wrist, his fingers easily circling it with room to spare, “This is not my fault.”

“I never said it was anybody’s fault,” Keanu countered, still holding onto her hand. It had been so long since he’d last touched her, in any way, he’d missed the softness of her skin and Y/n his calloused touch, “I’m just saying, maybe neither of us are as blameless as we want to be.”

His admission left Y/n scrambling for words. The truth was that Keanu was right, they were both active participants, worse yet, Y/n would be lying if she said she wanted to stop. The thoughts of Keanu were consuming, her quelled longing for him was hard to deny even to herself. Swallowing thickly, Y/n watched as Keanu’s grip slipped from her wrist to maintain a gentle hold on her fingers. They had forgotten their surroundings a while ago, not noticing if anyone was looking at them. “This is…..” Y/n didn’t know what it was, and she couldn’t really think of it while he was standing that close.

Keanu bent his head, a contagious smile curving his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I-”

“Places everyone!” Jackson snapped and they sprang apart. Keanu passed one had over his hair, the other going to his back pocket, while Y/n, who didn’t really know what to do with her hands, immediately grabbed the hem of her leather jacket, sucking in a breath.

Stuttering, Y/n’s lips quivered, about to speak when, in a frenzy a hair and make-up team surrounded her and Keanu, picking and pulling at their outfits, freshening their make-up and giving them one last look over before the scene. There was a faceless hand in her hair, fiddling with her extensions while someone else passed a powder brush on her cheek, “Can we….?”

Meanwhile, there was a woman freshening a cut on Keanu’s jaw while two others gave his outfit gentle tugs to ensure perfect placement, “Yeah,” he assured her hurriedly, hoping that the aids wouldn’t suspect anything. 

By the end of the day, all Y/n wanted to do was face flop into her bed, and she was pretty sure that she could sleep then. Her caffeine high had kicked in right in the thick of their first scene of the day; where her and Keanu’s characters were supposed to be ‘ambushed’ by operatives and subsequently engaged in a  shootout, where she’d acquire ‘minor wounds’. It had taken three takes to get the end right, but just as midday approached they did. Afterwards, she had taken her lunch break while Keanu shot a brief solo scene and then vise versa.

They weren’t done for the day until the sun was resigning past the distant horizon and nothing further could be done outside. Thank heavens they weren’t needed on set again until past lunch the next day. 

As she packed some things into her handbag, Y/n could feel the wear of her muscles with each movement and the heaviness of her eyes every time she blinked. The crash after the caffeine had worn off had hit her hard and if there were something bigger than a small sofa in her trailer, she might have showered and slept right there. 

With a huff, Y/n zipped the bag and reached for her coat draped over a throw pillow, when someone knocked on the metal front door calling her attention, “Y/n?”

Keanu.

Even if they’d spent most of the day together, they hadn’t gotten back to their earlier conversation, though Y/n didn’t know what she’d say if they had. Still, she answered the door, hoping he’d be braver than she was.

Keanu had absolutely no idea what he was going to say. But nonetheless, his anxious feet had led him to Y/n’s trailer, and possibly, by his fist’s own admission, he hit the door three times. It was hardly his best idea; to show up at her trailer, without a clue on what he was about to say all while knowing that Y/n must have been dog tired. Though, he was already there, so the least he could do was rack his brain for a quick remedy.

When she pulled the door open, standing before the entrance looking a bit worse than she had that morning, Keanu frowned, that was definitely the worst timing in the history of things being timed. “Hey,” he waved briefly, only coming up the two metal steps when she waved him inside. Upon seeing her bag, packed on the counter of the small kitchenette, Keanu scrubbed on hand over his groomed beard, stuffing the other into his pocket, “Is this a bad time?” Maybe if she said yes then he could return to his uncomfortable state of not knowing, trying to figure things out until he, well, knew. 

But alas, there was nothing as unforgiving and he internally cursed when she quickly quipped back, “No, I don’t have anywhere to be.” With a tired huff, Y/n dropped onto the small, rich brown, leather sofa, patting the spot next to her, “What’s up?”

“I……” What was up? Quickly, he scanned his brain for anything useful, though eventually came up short and let his mouth go on autopilot, “I wanted to talk about this morning, about us.”

Keanu couldn’t help but smile lightly when she absently scrunched her nose, testing the word on her tongue as if it were foreign, “Us?” Sighing, Y/n shifted in the sofa, bracing an elbow on the back cushion and pulling one leg under herself, “Is there an us?”

“I don’t know,” he cleared his throat, speaking as the ideas came, with no room for thinking them over or polishing them up, “But I think at this point it's more there than isn’t, if you know what I mean.”

It took a minute, and Y/n seemed to be mulling on it, but eventually, she gestured her agreement, moistening her succulent pink lips before, “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Right,” Keanu stalled. He wasn’t good at that, letting people in and letting himself feel. It wasn’t like he couldn’t, he could, he did. Even if it was all a jumbled mess, he did feel something, or rather several things for Y/n. Things he couldn’t quite decipher, but also things he wasn’t ready to lose. But it didn’t make sense and Keanu didn’t know what to do with those things. Besides, his relationship track record had never been on for the ages, he was always giving too much or too little, typically the former; a commitment-phobe at heart. 

Y/n looked at him expectantly and Keanu felt terrible for making her wait, but he really didn’t have a clue on what he should say next. How could you explain what you felt if you didn’t understand it?

Maybe he didn’t need words.  

Swallowing thickly, Keanu reached out, letting his thumb caress Y/n’s jaw, awed at how she leaned into his touch. 

Maybe it wasn’t just a sex thing. Maybe it was something more, merely covered up by something primal, because still there with Keanu, Y/n didn’t feel they way she had in the pool, or that day after their sex scene. Instead, she felt a fullness in her chest, it was warm, and she was very surprised that a feeling like that could be physical. Her heart didn’t beat a mile a minute, her palms weren’t sweaty and she wasn’t anxious about his next move. For the first time in two weeks, she knew exactly what to expect from Keanu.

It didn’t feel much bigger than their friendship though, it was merely an extension. It was the tranquility he brought, paired with the warmth of his touch. The thought was barely there and fleeting, but somewhere in the back of Y/n’s mind registered that Keanu’s was completely unlike Luke’s touch; a couple fingers on her cheek able to do more for her than arms around her waist. 

Intently, Y/n watched as Keanu leaned forward, licking his lips just before he laid them on hers. Coffee, cigarettes and something sweet. The taste was one she quickly committed to memory. Slowly, Y/n tilted her head, allowing him better access, letting her eyes slip closed. One hand moved to cup his cheek, the rough hair tickling her palm. 

What she felt right then was unmatched, the completeness morphing with a sense of serenity. Like the first breath of spring air or sipping chilled Rosé in the heat of summer, refreshing and light. The sensation in her chest spread, traveling to her finger and toes while the inner working of her head simply stopped. It didn’t matter what the road to lead them to that moment looked like, how much hurt there had been, confusion, despair and anguish, gone, just for a few savory minutes, letting them be in their own little bubble.

Butterfly wings fluttering against his lips, that was the only thing Keanu could liken that kiss too. It was so unlike anything they had shared before then and Keanu felt as if that was the last thing he ever did before he died, it would be okay, because even if he couldn’t say it, he’d shown her. Shown Y/n that she wasn’t just a body to him, that every touch he’d laid on her wasn’t a mistake, it could never be. 

What they had, whatever it was, was still in its infancy, but he liked it. Keanu wanted to show it off and protect it all at once. Keanu had always been afraid of relationships, and he could tell that Y/n was the same- there had always been an understated caution that hung in her words when spoke of Luke, like she was never really sure that sharing herself outside the realm of what was tangible was what she wanted. No doubt, they both had their flaws, but maybe, they could try together. Keanu wasn’t sure if it was what he wanted, but by then, he didn’t think he could firmly say he was sure of anything. Anything except for the fact that kissing Y/n felt right. 

When they broke, their breaths were still shared for a minute, Y/n and Keanu smiled softly. “Is this what you want?” Y/n’s voice was meek and unsteady, she didn’t even know if it was what she wanted.

Humming, Keanu lingered on the question for a minute, relaxing into the cushions. Acting on the urge, he pulled Y/n against his chest, her ear over his heartbeat. The blurry thoughts clouded his vision and Keanu knew his answer would change everything between them forever. But arguably, that had already happened. 

Suddenly plume of fear bloomed in the center of his chest; fear that he would hurt her, fear that they were too different, but most prominently, the paralyzing fear that she would hurt him. If Keanu let her in, chances are, he wouldn’t want her to leave. But it happened, it always did, they always left. 

Then again, what was life without fear? What was happiness without suffering?

“I…..” Keanu sighed at the way Y/n relaxed against him, absently tangling his fingers in the ends of her hair, his glazed eyes trained forward, “I think.....I think that maybe we could try. I mean, this is so confusing, and we didn’t exactly have the best start, but maybe it could work. I don’t really know how to do this,” he chuckled, usually asking a woman out came on instinct; Keanu would just do it. But the effort needed weight with Y/n, she deserved more than just a random offer for coffee, they got coffee together all the time. Keanu was about to start tripping over his words again when Y/n shifted against him, burrowing her nose deeper into his chest, “What are you-”

All it took was one look down for Keanu to realize that Y/n was far gone, and probably hadn’t heard a word of his ramblings. Huffing his quiet laughter, he shook off his thoughts, tightening his hold on her waist as he leaned his head back. Maybe he’d have something more worthwhile to offer her the next morning.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana 

[nike-shawn]

Vampire Shawn, Part One

Happy Halloween loves! Part two coming soon.... send me any ideas or comments you have for the series!! 🎃🎃

“Hey. Do you need someone to walk you home?”

His eyes are kind. They remind you of your dog’s eyes a little; innocent yet slightly mischievous. You smile to yourself— comparing a handsome boy’s eyes to your dogs’ probably means you’ve had too much to drink.

“I’m fine, actually. Thanks though,” you tell him, handing him your now empty solo cup. “If you could toss that into the trash can behind you, that’d be great.”

He looks slightly confused but takes the cup anyways and quickly deposits it in the large plastic garbage bin that somehow belongs perfectly fine in this dump of a frat house. There are cigarette butts and crushed beer cans underneath each of your steps as you make your way back to your friends in the kitchen.

“Um,” you hear him start again, and you wonder how he caught up to you so fast. “I was just asking because I noticed that the guy you were talking to earlier left with my friend.” You turn to face him. His kind eyes look a little sad now. “He shouted something at you but I don’t think you noticed. Something about ubering?”

“Fuck,” you mutter. It’s not entirely unlike Freddie to leave without you. In fact, it’s starting to become the norm.

“So, like I said, I can walk you home. I got left behind too so…” he drifts off, shrugging.

You look at him for only a few moments before deciding that, yeah, this kid looks trustworthy enough. The alcohol flowing through you is starting to make your eyelids feel heavy and if Freddie is already gone then there’s nothing else for you here. The booze is gone, the house is getting too crowded to move easily, and you’re bored.

“Sure.”

He smiles and you can’t help but return it with one of your own. He nods and leads you out of the party, one gentle hand on your wrist.

You break out into the front lawn of the house and you finally feel like you can breathe properly without the humid, stinking air of the fraternity. The boy looks over at you happily as you dramatically sigh and say “40 degrees never felt so nice”.

“You more of a cold-weather person?”

“Yeah. Love when the leaves change and the snow comes. Best part of the year.”

“I’m a winter person too,” he replies, and you hum a response as you remember how cold his fingers were on your wrist earlier.

You’re a few steps in front of him as you rattle off the directions to your apartment. The two of you start to talk about the guy who was screaming the lyrics to Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus when he suddenly stops. You don’t recognize that he isn’t right beside you anymore until he says “wait just a second.”

He takes a step off of the sidewalk and into the grass. Fall leaves crunch underneath his shoes as he peeks into the dense wall of trees right ahead of him. You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?”

“Do you hear that?” He asks, looking back at you for a moment with an inquisitive look. “Sounds like an animal is hurt.”

You don’t wanna sound like an asshole, but part of you wants to say F it to whatever animal is in there and just get along with your walk. It’s getting chillier and chillier and all you have on is your stupid, skimpy nurses costume. “Is this some Halloween prank?” You ask. “Because it’s not very funny.”

“No, no,” he says. “C’mere. Can you hear that?”

You step forward a bit but are still a ways behind him. You strain your ear to try and hear what he’s hearing.

“I can’t hear anything.”

“Oh,” he says, taking a step back. There’s a shift in his attitude. If you weren’t so drunk maybe you would’ve noticed that he’s suddenly impatient, walking quickly ahead of you.

You are almost out of breath when you see your apartment complex come into view. The boy hasn’t said anything since he stopped to check on the animal. “Um, hey,” you start, “it was really nice of you to walk me back but I’ve got it from here.”

His energy shifts yet again, now back to his happy-go-lucky frat boy persona. He flashes a brilliant smile and starts to undo his flannel. You realize that he went as some kind of lumber jack for Halloween as your gaze follows from where his fingers are loosening a button all the way to his large, tan work boots. “If you won’t let me walk you back, at least let me give you this. You’re shivering.” He hands you his flannel, smile still stretched wide across his pretty features. You absentmindedly wonder why he didn’t offer it earlier but take it anyways, grateful for the extra warmth.

“Thanks,” you say, draping it around your shoulders. He reaches forward and starts to do up the buttons for you. You feel a strong pull towards his body, like you could just melt right into him. Once he has the last one done, the one right at your neck, you two share a laugh and he starts to step backwards, beginning his walk back to wherever he lives. “Nice meeting you!”

“You too,” he replies.

You scramble to find a suitable goodbye, but he’s already walking quickly away from you. You stammer out, “wait, I never got your name!”

He looks over his shoulder, lips quirked up at the ends. “My name’s Shawn.”

And then the night swallows him up.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Weeks pass and you forget about Shawn. You scold Freddie for leaving you at the party but you aren’t really mad. Although Shawn was slightly odd, nothing happened. There was nothing memorable about the walk back, really, besides that scene with the wounded animal that you couldn’t hear. But you chalk that up to him just being a sympathetic drunk— it’s not a bad thing to want to help another living thing.

You come home from class one day and sling your backpack down on the floor as you flop onto the couch. Your roommates are all gone this weekend visiting family since you have a few days off in the beginning of next week, giving you a whole 4 days to yourself. You sigh happily and turn on a movie.

Rain is pounding on the roof and you’re almost asleep when someone knocks on the door. You’re startled awake by the noise. Quickly, you smooth down your hair with your palms and straighten your shirt before opening the door to reveal…

“Shawn?”

He smiles that signature smile. “Hey. I was just wondering if you had that flannel from a while ago? I have an event and we’re all supposed to wear one.”

You’re taken aback by the surprise, but you hurry to accommodate him since you have had the flannel way too long. You just didn’t know how to find him again. After a quick chat with Freddie you knew that he was a frat brother, but you weren’t going to trek all the way over there just to drop off a shirt. So you say, “yeah of course. Let me just go grab it.”

“Am I allowed to come in?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah! Yes, of course.”

It seems to take him an unnecessary amount of time to actually step into your apartment, but once he does you rush off to grab the flannel that you’re sure has just been bunched up in your closet somewhere.

When you return, he’s still standing by the door. You hand him the shirt and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “There ya go. Sorry it took me so long to get it back to you.”

“No worries,” he assures.

You assume this is the part where he leaves, but he stays put. You rock back awkwardly on your heels.

Suddenly his eyes take on a concerned look. He takes a few steps forward with his hands outstretched, almost like he’s about to catch you. “Woah, are you feeling okay?”

You feel completely fine, though as soon as his hand makes contact with your shoulder you feel heavy and leaden, your eyes already drooping.

You feel only a small pinch before you fall asleep.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

When you wake up, you’re back on your couch, but this time you’re laying horizontally across the cushions with an ice pack on your forehead. You can faintly hear Shawn’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you think you hear him saying. “I don’t know what to do.”

You try to sit up but when you do, all the blood rushes from your head and you start to feel dizzy.

“I can’t just do that. She’ll never go for that.”

You try to tune him out. You remember passing out and start to comb through the reasons why you would suddenly lose consciousness. You were nervous, that’s for sure, but you’ve never passed out from that. You haven’t had water in a while. Maybe that’s what it was.

Shawn must’ve ended his phone conversation because he comes into the living room and immediately sits on the floor beside the couch, leaning back on his palms casually. He takes a deep breath. “So,” he starts, “I need to tell you something.”

“I know I passed out.”

He laughs a little, though you can tell he didn’t think it was funny. His face has taken on a worried undertone and he keeps running his hand through his now tousled curls.

At his sudden nervousness, you feel a bloom of your own anxiety crawl up your throat. “What is it?” You ask quietly.

“Have you ever read Twilight?”

The severity of the situation contrasted with the stupidity of his question makes you laugh. “I watched the movies,” you tell him.

“You know how he’s like, all pale and stuff? And he is just really fuckin’ weird?”

You laugh again. “Sure.”

“Real vampires aren’t really like that.”

The smile starts to fall from your face. This doesn’t sound like a joke. “Shawn, what are you even talking about?”

He clears his throat, now moving so he’s a bit further away, leaning his back against the bottom of your lounge chair. “I’m being completely serious when I say this, OK?”

“Okay.”

“I’m a vampire.”

You fight to keep a straight face. A mix of disbelief and anger is starting to show on your features— your eyebrows start to shift towards the middle of your face and your jaw falls open a bit. You want to laugh but you also kinda want to cry. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have told you but, uh,” he pauses, clearing his throat, “something came up when I bit you.”

“You… bit me?”

He clears his throat again, a nervous tick. “So, there’s something that happens when a vampire is… hungry… Um, and basically I can make you fall asleep just by touching you and when you wake up you don’t remember the bite itself. But, yeah. So, when you fell asleep I bit you. You can probably still feel it.”

You don’t move. Shawn blinks at you a few times, then takes your hand gently and leads it to the junction of your neck and shoulder where there is unmistakable soreness. You don’t stop looking at him, in shock.

“Anyways,” he continues, “does that make sense?”

You look down to where the flannel hung over a chair by the door. It’s snowing now. It shouldn’t be snowing, you idly think. It’s only November 1st.

“Y/N?”

You jolt back to life. “How do you know my name?”

Shawn looks surprised at the question. Of course, there are many other questions you could’ve asked, but this is the one that popped into your head at a time where there is little you can make sense of. He runs a hand through his hair. He says, “I did a little research.”

“How?”

“I put in your address on the auditor’s website.”

Well. That makes sense. Part of you was expecting some kind of magic spell he cast to find out this information.

Shawn stands and offers you his hand. You look at it and blink. He says, “can I show you something?”

You nod and take his hand. You should probably run or ask Shawn if he’s on hard drugs but you don’t. You let him keep your hand in his as he leads you to the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you step in the mirror, you see them. Two puncture wounds, identically shaped and on a backdrop of a dark blue-ish bruise. You gasp out loud, your hands immediately drifting to the spot. You knew that it was sore from when Shawn drew your attention to it earlier, but you didn’t know that it would look like this. This is a bite. An unmistakable bite from someone with two long incisors and a thirst for blood.

And if Shawn’s telling you he’s a vampire, you’re having a hard time refuting it now.

Part Two 

[punkscowardschampions]

Zelda & Zach

ihatemyguts: Good thing you told me how bubble boy posi Robyn’s ‘rents are

ihatemyguts: ‘cos that felt like such a brush-off

ihatemyguts: I feel kinda bad, it’s low-key just upset her with no shopping trip pay-off 😬

inandout: your first date was today

inandout: the insane jealousy must have forced me to forget

ihatemyguts: Obviously

ihatemyguts: moping and staring out of open windows would be bad for your health

ihatemyguts: probably

ihatemyguts: can’t have that

inandout: mope hard enough and fling myself all over the house, they’ll call it exercise

ihatemyguts: I’d let Rob know but her parents would probably sue me

ihatemyguts: I did some research

ihatemyguts: and yeah, flare-ups fucking suck, but if she was struggling that bad rn she’d be in hospital getting her 💉 on

ihatemyguts: makes me ⁉️ if the meetup will happen

inandout: makes me wonder if her brothers are allowed out

inandout: if they are maybe they can help us smuggle her to the meetup

ihatemyguts: not just a pretty face

ihatemyguts: that’s a damn good idea

ihatemyguts: I can slide in their DMs

inandout: Cranking up the jealousy metre to give me a full work out, I see, are you gonna be a PE teacher when you grow up?

ihatemyguts: *prays they aren’t like 12*

ihatemyguts: imagine if that was my life’s ambition

ihatemyguts: wear unflattering sportswear and give kids complexes

ihatemyguts: even without the potential life-shortening illness, I’d reconsider that

inandout: it tracks that you’d wanna make them 💩 and bringing back the bleep test could work

ihatemyguts: okay I’m not 🦹‍♀️ or 🐯 levels of sweet but is that what you really think of me? 😏

inandout: I think there’s only one rebel teacher coming to mind and I haven’t watched that film so all I know is they stand on desks

inandout: probably not a perfect fit for you

ihatemyguts: I could force you to watch it for our first date

ihatemyguts: and ask you, what your dream job would be

inandout: Netflix and chill or cinema screening of the ‘classics’?

inandout: we could do a drive-thru

ihatemyguts: hmm 🤔

ihatemyguts: there are pluses to ‘em all

ihatemyguts: cinema, we could laugh at all the snobs and 🤓s

inandout: Cool, reach out to me with the time + date when it’s showing

inandout: Are you allowed 🍿?

ihatemyguts: oh hell no

ihatemyguts: have to find another way to hold my hand

inandout: 🦸‍♀️ said she was gonna look up ice breakers and stuff, hopefully it was a fruitful search and she won’t mind sharing the info

ihatemyguts: do you think she legit didn’t realize how thirsty that boy was for her

ihatemyguts: or is it all uwu coy-ness

inandout: It’s hard to tell

inandout: but if I remember my glasses I’ll do my best to decode her body language from 6 ft away

ihatemyguts: aside from hospital, have you ever met someone else with cf?

inandout: Nope

inandout: jokes aside, it really is discouraged

ihatemyguts: that’s a hard one to get your head around

ihatemyguts: far as adjustments go

inandout: getting Robbie at this meetup won’t be easy

inandout: separate ones mean we might not have her there

ihatemyguts: I reckon we can trust you and Kara to keep the teen love story fictional

ihatemyguts: for all our sake’s

inandout: She’ll get her man

inandout: it’s not like bad advice and dating pitfalls are just a click away

ihatemyguts: cosmos never steered ANYONE wrong

inandout: Yahoo answers neither

ihatemyguts: might be confused as to why they’re not related

inandout: [I like to think he’s just sending his fave yahoo answer answers now for the lols]

ihatemyguts: [meme back and forth lads]

ihatemyguts: if she gets her date we could go into the matchmaker business

ihatemyguts: start at home

ihatemyguts: 🤖 don’t last forever

inandout: Rob’ll need to be next or she won’t forgive us

inandout: and we’ll soon get tired/guilty of seeing the amount of 😿💔 spam the chat

ihatemyguts: we’ll have to liberate her first

ihatemyguts: in a literal way

ihatemyguts: not the pretentious, free your 🧠 type of vibe

inandout: Kidnap’s playing into her parents’ fears but we don’t have a better option

ihatemyguts: now it’s my turn for a potential 💡

ihatemyguts: what if that is exactly what she should do

inandout: jump scare them?

ihatemyguts: if she did some actual wild shit to show them they’re being suffocating, ‘scuse the mention, then they’ll have to compromise and let her do normal kid things and everyone will win

ihatemyguts: I realize getting her to wild out might be a problem

ihatemyguts: catfish it though?

inandout: 💡⭐️

inandout: getting her to agree to do it for real would take longer than we have but you’re right, faking it wouldn’t take any time at all

ihatemyguts: get Lauren to picture whatever the hell she’s up to

ihatemyguts: sorted

inandout: + there’s your next photo challenge ready to be accepted, dressing as if you were going on a date with 👵🌈✨ instead

ihatemyguts: hold my neon

ihatemyguts: and think, do we clue Rob in on this plan now or do it on her behalf first, ‘cos we could hit up her house phone with some madness to get ‘em sus now and when she’s like wuuuuut it’ll sound even more

ihatemyguts: or is that a bit evil genius instead of 🦹‍♀️

inandout: Does she even have a house phone? We don’t

inandout: you’ll have to find another way to trick my parents into believing I’m a badass

ihatemyguts: I bet they do

ihatemyguts: can’t trust a mobile

ihatemyguts: and I bet they don’t have a microwave, they’re that sort

ihatemyguts: obvs I’ll just direct them to Lauren on your friends list with a 🤔

inandout: We should probably warn her, in case she takes it the wrong way

inandout: or decides to stand up to them for her YA movie moment

ihatemyguts: yeah, you’re right

ihatemyguts: if she doesn’t go for it, her brothers might be of use still

ihatemyguts: have to focus my evil energy elsewhere

ihatemyguts: such as…

ihatemyguts: 🥁

ihatemyguts: [one of the crazier lewks from babyteeth for the photo challenge]

inandout: 🤞🏻 one of them is old enough to drive the people carrier

inandout: Uhh… that was a suspiciously fast transformation

ihatemyguts: didn’t know you was challenging a pro?

ihatemyguts: and someone with a lot of time on her hands

inandout: I do now

inandout: and I’m guessing it’s not every day you get stood up based on what else I know about you

ihatemyguts: it’s a first

ihatemyguts: not that I constantly ask people out

ihatemyguts: but that is what I’ve put across so fair enough

ihatemyguts: what am I interrupting for you?

inandout: I’m waiting on friends

inandout: this could end in both of us being stood up

ihatemyguts: am I a drag you down with me type?

ihatemyguts: hmm

ihatemyguts: nah, I’ll cross my fingers that your friends aren’t flaky

inandout: Late, but I’d be too if it wasn’t my house

inandout: What are you gonna do now shopping’s off?

ihatemyguts: life is one big photo challenge, right

ihatemyguts: yours is ‘whatever will make your friends double-take when they open the door’

ihatemyguts: it’s a good question

ihatemyguts: we’re going to virtual shop tomorrow but she wasn’t up for it today

inandout: Wait for it and their faces

inandout: + you’re virtually invited to watch movies and play games, you won’t be the only one who isn’t here in person

ihatemyguts: 👍

ihatemyguts: cool

ihatemyguts: meeting new people is my new thing, as long as your mates are down/not the level of nerd that they might get a nosebleed if a girl is about

inandout: Some of them are girls if that helps

inandout: and my brother won’t be there to bring down the cool

ihatemyguts: low-key a shame

ihatemyguts: have to meet him before the first date though

inandout: I’ve got a father you can ask for permission if you’re feeling old-fashioned

ihatemyguts: full set

ihatemyguts: fun

ihatemyguts: mines in scotland so we’ll let you off that trek

inandout: But a road trip is a coming of age movie staple! 😫 Has Netflix aired any YA without one + are you willing to take that risk?

inandout: mine’s a workaholic but we’ve got years to catch him

ihatemyguts: forget the meds, see who gets fucked up first

ihatemyguts: it’d be a journey, for sure

ihatemyguts: do you know what he does? ‘cos so’s mine and I couldn’t tell you, tbh

inandout: Or mix them up and see what happens when you take the ones for my 💩

inandout: He’s a sales manager, he says, but why so vague?

ihatemyguts: sounds like something they’d do at cool parties

ihatemyguts: and that sounds suspish

ihatemyguts: they should have this 🤓 but with a moustache instead of the buckteeth

ihatemyguts: dads are elusive creatures… conspiracy time, what are they all up to

inandout: Not sure that’s the topic Rich has been watching vids on but I’ll ask

ihatemyguts: he can always tactfully ignore you if he’s 😳

ihatemyguts: like he does with 👵🌈✨ when she’s extra

ihatemyguts: more than usual

inandout: Be harder to do that in person

ihatemyguts: I think everyone will still get on

ihatemyguts: unless fibrofog shows, then that’ll be teen show worthy drama, of course

inandout: I think he’s genuinely blocked, he’d need a 2nd account to find out about it

ihatemyguts: hope he’s seen catfish too

inandout: He’d be a fan of the one where the man refused to believe it wasn’t Katy Perry

ihatemyguts: it does seem like the sort of thing she’d do

ihatemyguts: poor bastard

inandout: 😂

ihatemyguts: ultimate photo challenge, catfishing everyone and then going for the ruveal

ihatemyguts: might need more than just a wig 🤔😏

inandout: Dressing like her would make my friends do a double-take

inandout: [pics of some of her outrageous lewks with his head put on]

ihatemyguts: 😂😂😂

ihatemyguts: you suit the 🍦🧁🍭🍩✨

inandout: We’ve probably got a can of squirty cream lying around for hot chocolate

ihatemyguts: inhaler but make it ~sExxxIii~

inandout: [a lil video of his failed attempt to re-create that in her insta DMs or wherever because idk if they can send stuff like that here]

ihatemyguts: Katy dat you 😍😍

inandout: I’ve agreed to only string you along for 4 years not 6 and I don’t have any savings to spend 25% of on a 💍

inandout: looks like the comparison starts and stops with our black curls

ihatemyguts: not much of an orlando bloom clone myself so it’s alright

ihatemyguts: pirate is always an excellent disabled-friendly costume though so add that to the ideas board we should start

inandout: If we decide the next meetup is fancy dress, Lauren will never go back home

ihatemyguts: that’s the mood

inandout: [sends her whatever he did for the photo challenge and his friends reaction to it because why not say they’ve arrived and there’s a similar feral mood here]

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

They say no plan survives contact with the enemy.  Danny wishes they were wrong.

Dash Baxter was a conflicted person right now. He’d been feeling off practically all school year, and Valerie, Star, and Paulina were about ready to tell him to fuck off while they went and did their own awesome friend stuff. If he was pressed to think about it hard, he would say that it started when Manson had gotten the school to change the menu for a whole ass week. Now, Dash typically cooked or baked his own food anyway, so it was hardly something that sucked for him but plenty of his teammates bought lunch at school and they weren’t weird vegans like Manson! He’d gone up to her to give her a piece of his mind about all of that shit since he couldn’t exactly go yell at a teacher, and maybe he shouldn’t have yelled but he was angry and his voice got louder when he was mad.

Then Fenton got between them like Dash was gonna throw hands with Manson or something. Don’t get him wrong, he knows how dangerous a girl can be – Valerie would never have been friends with him if he didn’t respect how dangerous a girl like her could be – but his father had raised him to never lay hands on a woman. And besides, Dash wasn’t feeling violent! Or, at least, he didn’t think he had been.

Except that when Fenton got between them, Dash had been pissed. He’d gone from mad to unseeing rage and stuffed one of the dumb mudpies in Fenton’s face, and then Fenton started throwin the garbage, and then a food fight happened. Now, some people might think that his year was off because of the fire that happened after this food fight, but it was actually the start of it. Dash Baxter only threw hands when someone was threatening his friends, not for getting between him and someone else. Not for nothing. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever done in his life and he felt horrible about it afterward but he couldn’t think of what had gotten into him.

Worse still was when it kept happening. Mikey and Lester were rambling kinda loudly about some stupid card game and Dash got annoyed, went over to ask them to quiet down. Then there was this weird this rush of some sorta warm slimy something down his spine that was there and gone in a flash, and he was barking at the two of them, “Shut the hell up or else I’ll make you.” He almost didn’t realize he’d said that but then Kwan elbowed him hard in the ribs and Dash winced, running a hand through his hair. “God, did I say that? Shit, sorry dudes I didn’t mean that!”

Except… he did. Dash was the one who said it, right? And he said it practically automatically, without even thinking it. Was that who he was becoming? Was he turning into his grandfather? Kwan promised him he wasn’t, Vincent said he wouldn’t let Dash turn into his gramps, but then Dash was shoving scrawnier kids into the lockers out of his way, and he’d been about to mouth off to Fenton for no freakin reason other than he was there and his freaky mad scientist parents had to be the ones to put that green fire and stuff. Then a god damn monster popped out of Fenton’s locker, attacked Foley, and Dash was out of there.

Right after the fire the school had everyone set up meetings with the counselor, Dr. Spectra, and Dash went too, just like everyone. She even gave him a journal to write his feelings down in so he could work out what he was feeling and put it in words at his own pace. He didn’t like how she was implying that he couldn’t put his feelings into words at the same speed as everyone else, but if she was then hey, she wasn’t… she wasn’t wrong . And after writing it all down in that black journal, Dash came to a bit of a conclusion: Fenton was at the center of all of this.

Danny Fenton was a bit of a freak already, his eyes glowed when he was pissy even back in 6th grade and Dash knew it had to be because his parents were mad fucking scientists and either they experimented on their kids or the radiation in their house had gotten to em. And now that freakiness was popping up and destroying the whole damn school! Hell, Dash was pretty sure one of the Fentons’ damn ghosts had stuffed a buncha frogs down his pants the other day, cause he heard laughter when he ran away. But that had nothing on how furious Dash had been when Fenton called him stupid .

Dash wasn’t fucking dumb he was a little slow but so were plenty kids! Nerds and geeks like Fenton and Mikey and Josh all thought they were so fucking smart that they could get away with calling anyone else stupid ? Dash had been planning on educating Fenton on just how smart an idea that was. Then Falluka yelled at him and Kwan… God, Kwan looked so fucking disappointed in him.

So Dash was feeling a little conflicted and a lot shitty when Danny Motherfucking Fenton walked up to him in his star trek hoodie and said, “Dash I need your help.”

“Oh yeah?” Dash snorted and sneered at the smaller boy. “Why should I help?”

“You remember the monster thing that nearly tore off Tucker’s leg?” Dash paled a bit and nodded. “Something worse is lurking in the school. Something smart. We need your help to expose it before we can get rid of it.”

“So you want me to put my ass on the line and risk getting mauled because your freaky monster is out here lookin to eat someone?” Dash scoffed and turned away. “I ain’t stupid, Fentina, no matter what you think.”

There was a growl behind him and the hairs on Dash’s neck rose up. He tensed and damn near sprinted when he remembered that Fenton was packing heat. Maybe he was stupid. But then Fenton sighed and the lights flickered. “Dash, did you notice that you’ve become more and more of a jerk lately? You used to be the awesome jock who could run faster than everyone but Valerie and you made cookies for the whole class.

“Now you insult everyone at every turn and you tried to beat me up for telling you off. Doesn’t that feel wrong to you? I know nobody wants to believe my parents about the ghosts but you saw the monster, you saw Tucker bleeding and this is real Dash. And what do ghosts do in movies?”

“You sayin I’m possessed, Fenton?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it but it made… well sense was the wrong word but it lined up. “Wouldn’t I blackout or somethin?”

“Not necessarily. Some ghosts are smart n subtle and they can make you do things, feel things enough times while you’re awake that it’s habit-forming. My friend Sydney Poindexter can show you.”

Dread hit Dash like a tidal wave and he turned to bolt. Then he was cold and he relaxed all over, went deathly calm. He was submerged in the utmost chill vibes. Then he was utterly terrified, so much so he almost needed a change of pants. But then he was over the moon happy, frothing at the mouth pissed and then calm again.

The heat slowly returned to Dash’s bones as the back of something- someone filled his vision. Then he was looking at the bucktoothed, weak chinned weird movie hologram ghost of - if Fenton was to be believed - Sydney fucking Poindexter . “You see, Dash,” Fenton said while Dash stared at Poindexter with a very real sense of dread and awareness that someone who could fly could catch him faster than he could run, “if Sydney here were to possess you from time to time and adjust your mood and behavior just a little bit each time, especially over the few months we’ve been in school, you’d start doing everything he made you do on your own. You wouldn’t notice it either, it’d feel like your own feelings.” Dash finally looked at Fenton. “Got the picture, Dash?”

“... I thought your family hunted ghosts down?” Dash’s voice was as small as he felt. Because of that, he nodded quickly when he realized he’d been asked a question. “Y-yeah, I get the picture. I’ve been. I’ve been fucking possessed. ” Icy hot fury and horror filled him up to the brim and Dash shook, fists clenching and unclenching. “I’m being haunted by someone and they’re fuckin with what kinda person I am. But who the hell would do that?”

“Dash, Sydney is going to hide so that Ishiyama doesn’t turn on the security system and shoot holes through him - and he’s a good person, Dash, trust me.” Yeah, sure he is. “And we’re gonna go to the principal and have her call a very specific person to the front office. I need you and I to be hiding right next to the door to the hall, because when he sees you, he’ll know what’s happening.” Fenton reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out- ok, he really did have bottomless pockets because no way he kept a gun and a belt in there. He handed it to Dash who held it in his hands, feeling a bit numb. “Put that on. It’ll give a nasty shock to any hostile ghost that touches you.”

“So that he can’t possess me again, right?” Fenton nodded and Dash was putting the belt on before he even knew it. It clicked into place and he felt a warm buzz rush through him. “Fuck, thanks Fenton. Danny. Do we uh. Do we go now?”

“Dash you’re heading to practice,” Fe-Danny said, and Dash sighed and slumped against a locker. “Don’t worry though, we have a plan.”

“Right. A plan.” Dash took a deep breath and nodded. He wanted to get whatever ghost asshole had been messing him up, making him into a total asshole, right the fuck then. But Fenton was the nerd with the sci-fi gun and a ghost friend here, not Dash. And he wasn’t all that keen on being near Poindexter of all dead people, so he nodded again and half turned. “...This… after this ghost dude is dealt with, I’ll… I’ll go back to normal, right?”

“That’ll take some effort on your part, Dash. Do you want to go back to normal?” Dash whirled around to tell Fenton of course he did but he was just gone.

Dash scoffed and shook his head, walking to practice. “Got his boyfriend’s dramatics.”

It was legitimately the simplest of plans. Danny had come up with it so it was very simple and easy to understand. Danny and Dash headed into Ishiyama’s office at lunch, Sydney waited just outside of Danny’s own sensing range for him - which had gotten alarmingly smaller since his resurrection - and when Dash identified Bertrand as his late grandfather, Danny, Sam and Tucker would turn him into a pile of green sludge, then go after Spectra after making the case that she was also something inhuman disguising herself to feed off of the students. Simple.

Easy to understand didn’t mean easy to execute. When Danny Fenton of all people approached Ishiyama and said something was up, with Dash Baxter backing him up, she called up Bertrand Baxter to her office. Dash looked absolutely floored by that revelation though and turned on Danny immediately. “Are you saying my fucking grandpa is the one who’s been haunting me?”

“I really hope you’re not like, attached to him or anything.”

“Oh no, he was awful but dude, you knew? ” Danny sighed and nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He could’ve possessed you in the shower when you took off the belt and figured out how much we know.” Danny looked to Ishiyama, who had gone pale and was typing furiously at her laptop. Danny, however, headed to the door to the hallway and crouched down, reaching into his jacket. Dash was still standing in the doorway to the principal’s office, however, and so when Bertrand came in and Danny got to see his disguise for the first time - short, grey slacks with dress shoes and a red dress shirt with a suit jacket and bowtie. His hair was grey and his eyes were green and he looked like a stereotypical rich white guy, reminding Danny how wealthy Dash actually was - Bertrand stopped and stared at Dash for three seconds.

“Oh. you. Wonderful to see you again you sissy ass brute, have you been sewing anymore wittle teddybears for yourself or are your sausage fingers too big for that?” Oh, Danny hated that tone. So, he pulled out his rifle, aimed it at Bertrand’s face, and smirked.

“Wow, you looked slimy in life too, huh?” Danny got to see wide green eyes filled with shock and terror before he squeezed the trigger on his gun and Bertrand became a green splat on the wall that Danny would have to clean up later.

“You didn’t even leave a little bit of ass for me to kick?” Sam groaned as she stood up from behind the wait desk, patting the shaking attendant’s back while she got closer. In her hands was a thin metal tube with the Fenton Logo on it and a button, looking to any trained eye like a typical collapsible bo staff. “I got this whole new weapon from your mom and everything.”

“Please don’t say that in front of the principal - and hey, we’ve got more ass to kick.” Danny grinned, maybe a bit wider than humanly reasonable, and turned to Ishiyama. “I’d like to make a complaint about Bertrand’s boss.”

“You can make that complaint to her right here in person, darling. ” Danny spun to look at the source of the predatory purr that was damn near right in his ear. Red suit, red hair done up in ridiculous horns, and eyes that were slowly shifting from green to yellow to orange. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet, Mr. Fenton, but it’ll be my pleasure to give yourself and your friends a session. Free of charge.”

“Hm, I hear you, Penny, I do. Counterpoint.” Danny grinned as Sam hit the button and swung her now humming staff - the Fenton Anti Creep Stick™ - at Spectra’s face and watched as it sailed through the air where Spectra had been. The creature named Penelope had twisted back and around fluid as water to avoid the strike and spun around, kicking Sam in the gut and knocking her into the reception desk. Danny snarled and raised his rifle, managing to shoot Spectra in the shoulder.

Spectra flicked the ashes from her shoulder where her suit and ‘skin’ had been burned - though her skin looked more like it’d suffered a fading sunburn than it did a glob of ionized ectoplasmic plasma - and backhanded a shocked Danny. He raised his arms in time to block the nails that were now claws with his jacket, but these sleeves were cotton and simply tore open while he was flung back as well. “Oh Danny, honey, you should really do your research more. I’m not a ghost .” Darkness flooded the room and they - Danny, Sam, Tucker, Dash - were in what Danny assumed to be her office. He hissed and pulled out the Peeler, but that was smacked out of his hands and clattered loudly to the floor.

The others disappeared in a cloud of smoke, which the room was steadily becoming. “Come now, Danny, none of that. We’re here to talk, after all. About you, before you ask. After all, you have quite a few pressing anxieties to address, don’t you?” A clipboard appeared in her hands from the smoke all around them and she read over it while Danny reached for the bonds to his friends. The threads were… slack, dim, quieter than they should be.

“Daniel James Fenton, your sister had an appointment set up with me for you, worried unlike every other child here you weren’t getting enough attention. But of course, someone like you can never get enough attention.”

“When I get my hands on you I-”

“Ah, that testosterone you keep shooting up with really is making you more aggressive, isn’t it?” Danny snarled at her and she tutted at him, walking slowly around her desk. “Or is that the ectoplasm running through your veins causing you to act out violently on mere speculations and possibilities from what’s more than likely just a bad dream from your little friend. That’s what it does, after all. Corrupt the mind and soul. Oh, but of course you know that, don’t you?

“Your parents have all the science on ghosts at their fingertips and surely you’re smart enough to read up on it. Oh,” she covered her mouth and sucked on her teeth, looking all the world like she’d just noticed something inconsiderate coming out of her vile mouth before vanishing into the darkness. “Oh, well I suppose you could read it but it wouldn’t stick, would it? The dead can’t learn anything new, after all, you’re just an echo of who you were before.”

“Bias and prejudice aren’t science!” Danny raised his rifle again, energy racing to his eyes as he searched the shadows desperately. The light rose to his call, filled him untethered him from the Earth, but what he Saw felt wrong . Even the lies the eyes tell him are truer than what was around him and he knew that but he couldn’t see through the smoke. “Sam and Tucker have hammered that into me plenty well enough by now to cut through bullshit like that! And really, I liked your office better after that flubber wannabe and I trashed it.”

A flash of red suit came into view and Danny pulled the trigger, but Spectra was faster than the green hot plasma, and claws swatted his weapon away while slashing at his chest. Thank Tucker for leather jackets and all the protection they offered but now Danny was on his back, the ground and somehow the kind of uncomfortable chair that all schools used to punish the students for the simple crime of being there.

“Ah yes, Sam the rich goth girl who befriended you as soon as she heard that you were the son of the town crazies. The one who warned you away from coming out to your parents so they could help you become normal again - or as close as someone like You can get.” She laughed, the sound of ice spilling down a glacier into the cold dark waters below, and it echoed around him like the chill of a winter night. “Don’t you know she’s only friends with you because you’re ‘unique’? Because you’re a freak ? Don’t you know, oh so darling Danny, that as soon if you were able to get rid of all this craziness and live a peaceful life, she’d grow bored with you and leave?”

“You don’t know a damn thing about Sam, she’s not like that!” Danny rolled out of the chair and got to his feet, every movement like he was covered in sandbags and the smokey shadows every two feet away seemed to swallow up his voice, growing darker and pressing closer like a rolling tide. Light curled into a ball in his palm, and he hurled it where Spectra was, but the shadows ate his light and left barely a foot in any direction to move.

“Oh and the year you’ve known her has revealed everything to you, hm? Well, I suppose when someone murders you with peer pressure and you stick around them it’s clear how pathetically desperate for another friend you are. After all, the only other one you have is your oh so precious Tucker . Precious, pragmatic Tucker who cheered you on to go to your parents about all this, more than ok with you getting dissected for it. After all, he’s a smart boy and you can’t have fooled him as well as you fooled yourself into thinking you’re the same Danny Fenton he knew before you died.”

Spectra laughed again, claws digging into his shoulders, and anger, resentment, and fury rang through his soul, the chime of a burning bell. Light struck Spectra in the face, the Fomorian’s cackles finally cut off with a shriek of pain as she stumbled back and the choking darkness ebbed a foot away again. Danny snarled at her, spying the empty hollowness where his light had sheared off the false skin on her face, another ball of orange-silver light crackling at his fingertips.

“You keep Tucker’s name out of your filthy lying mouth! He would never hurt me!”

“He sure did take his time making you any sort of protection though, and once he got your parents to give him something that made his very touch a taser’s spark to your skin he wasn’t in any rush to modify it for your safety. Almost like he didn’t want you able to touch him, or he didn’t feel like making you something genuinely substantial as protection - after all, he finally got another one working and where did that end up? On Dash.” Danny stepped back when the shadows closed around Spectra once again, glaring into the dark of her office and kicking the desk to the wall for room. It didn’t even clatter against the wall when it vanished from his sight and he couldn’t tell if that was because there was no wall or if he was simply losing his stars forsaken mind.

“Modifying the Spector Deflector took time, you slippery little oil stain, now come out where I can punch you.”

“It hardly took time for your parents to make it, did it? And oh your parents.” She purred, voice taking on a cloyingly sweet tone and Danny shuddered at the cold against his skin, the smoke curling against his jacket and following him as he flew up to the ceiling to make some room. Now, though, it looked like he was trapped in the abyss with no floor, no ceiling, no way anywhere and if he ever stopped flying he would fall and fall and fall and there was no end to this darkness, no stars to sing to him and comfort him and it was like the times before his very first self .

“We can’t forget the source of all this anguish can we? Those darn parents of yours that put ghost hunting and science and your better sibling before you the whole of our life and even your afterlife! Oh, even you know now that normal old human authorities would clutch their pearls and steal you away to a safer place to live than with them. How many times have you had artificial ectoplasm in your food, either poisoning you or bringing it to life for you all to fend off? How many times have they barged into your room with no concern for your privacy and dragged you away to do work for them like an intern? How many times have you nearly died because dear old Dr. and Dr. Fenton couldn’t be bothered to make their home a safe place for a child?”

Danny curled up into a ball then, clutching at his head and closing his eyes. The star song that rang through his body and warmed his bones when he was a ghost grew dimmer and darker and colder with each word out of the dark and past the echoes it took a moment to realize that whining sound was coming from him. “Shut up! Shut up shut up, you don’t- so they’re a little clumsy! No one can be the best parents ever, and they love us! They love me!”

“Is that why they killed you?” That laughter felt like a slap to the face and Danny slipped into intangibility, only to fall from the air as his power left him, and he landed on the cold hard ground, alone and shaking. “Your father so careless with the most outrageously dangerous things that he left a doorway to the land of the dead plugged in even with the door to the lab still open. Your mother, so stubborn, so sure of herself, would never listen to your advice on how to simply not mutate the food that her family eats let alone listen about how ghosts actually work from you . Daddy dearest doesn’t truly care what you want to be, he knows that you’re not smart enough to become an astronaut, skilled enough to live off your art alone, and that all you really have to fall back on is the family business of ghost hunting, so why shouldn’t he talk over you about it all? Your own precious Mommy didn’t have an answer for you as to what she’d do if she knew you were a ghost.

“Oh, your parents are just so awful that they went and let you die, and you don’t want to face the truth of it? Is it because you’re afraid that you’re just like them, keeping Agatha locked up in that soup can for a whole weekend before you let her out, turning Hunter into a splatter on the ground, shooting my dearest little assistant because he’s a ghost? Or is it because you know, deep down, that what they would do as soon as they knew you’re not human is strap you down and cut you up to see what you actually are. You don’t even know, after all!”

His light was a pinprick in the distance, practically gone and with it the gossamer strings that bound him to his friends and let him know he wasn’t alone. They were gone because he was alone, wasn’t he? How could he not be, with whatever the hell he was? There wasn’t a thing out there like him, and if the dark pressing in on him like oil choked sea water swallowed him up then no one would truly understand what was lost. Would they even feel they lost something at all?

“Are you a ghost pretending to be human again? Or are you a creepy little boy with creepy little powers? A changeling left behind by a faerie through that portal, or some kind of curse? Oh, who cares what you are? Not a boy, not a ghost, not a fae or jinni or beast of this earth! Who could possibly care for a thing - a mistake like little Danny Fenton? Or should I say, C-”

Orange, fury, protect, love, wrath, HOW DARE SHE blazed down the bond between Danny and Jazz and filled him with a warmth he’d near forgotten existed. Green light cut through the darkness and engulfed Spectra, peeling away her suit and her skin and the darkness that made her up like one might an onion or potato. “ How dare you, you worthless parasite? How dare you lay a single clawed hand on my baby brother while you sit here, curled up in your precious darkness to hide from the truth that would burn away your empty, worthless lies?” Danny had never heard Jazz so angry, had never seen such fire in her aura and it kindled that spark inside of him that was growing oh so distant. “Sydney?”

Danny had never loved the color green so much before he saw peridot flames leap from Sydney’s hands and engulf the room, before sweeping in to swallow Spectra up in a pile of burning rot . They were back in Ishiyama’s office and the waiting room before it, Tucker and Sam and Dash all pale and shaking like they were freezing, but the heat of Sydney’s flames and the rage in his screams were like a camp fire in the cold woods. When Danny turned to see Jazz she was practically a chrome and green knight, wearing armor he’d never seen before and brandishing the Peeler at Spectra like a shotgun at a mugger. “I can’t believe I thought someone so pathetic they had to pick at the insecurities of literal children for a misery meal would do anything to help my brother.” She squeezed the trigger and held it until even Spectra’s shrieks of agony were nothing more than echoes in the room.

Jazz turned to Danny and before she was even fully out of the armor he had his arms wrapped around her, clinging tight to the only person that felt well and truly real at the moment. She hugged him back just as fast and relief slammed into the horror and misery and blended with the vindication until he couldn’t tell what feeling it was that blurred his vision and made his face wet with tears, but when Jazz ran a hand down his back he shook with the force of his sobs. Tucker and Sam put hands on his shoulders and the threads between them were a sickly puce and bloody red that had him dragging them both into the hug with him. They stood there, leaning on each other in the office and crying, and some part of Danny knew that they were going to be alright.

They had each other, and nothing could get to them when they were with each other, right?

[ziracona]

Thinkin about how the NOES 2010 movie is so good. Listen…listen. It has really unusual structure. Most of the time, a horror film follows either a single unit (one person, one family) through a whole plot (The Witch, The Babadook, Saw, Halloween) or a group of victims with one pretty obvious final girl in the mix (Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I Know What You Did Last Summer), but NOES 2010 doesn’t do that. It takes you through several protagonists, one at a time, moving on from one teen to another when your initial protagonist is killed, starting with Dean, moving on to Kris, then Jesse, and then Nancy and Quentin when they’re the last two standing. It’s a fresh take, which makes everything so much less sure, and gives narrative weight to the characters who die instead of just making them bodycount. Everybody gets treated like the final girl, not canon fodder, which is extremely important to the story the film is telling. Nancy and Quentin don’t even become the film’s focus until almost halfway through the story.

Probably someone who is unfamiliar with the original film would assume Kris is the protagonist until she is killed thirty minutes in a little ala Psycho. It makes everything seem less certain, and makes the characters who you lose as important as the ones who make it, which is a really responsible way to tell something. A lot of the time, the characters in horror are kind of assholes (which is great and another rant for another day, because since the stakes are so low [literally you just have to care enough to not want the character to be brutally murdered], you can get an audience invested in an willing to explore the complexity of even a shitty  person—but like I said, that’s a wholeass other rant), but in NOES2010, they’re not, which I think is important. Never does the film want you to feel like the characters either suck and deserve something happening to them, or are stupid (look, when the publicist in Scream 4 got out of her car in an unlit parking garage in the middle of a Ghostface chase, I saw the wholeass theater stop cheering for her to live because she was so stupid we just couldn’t root for her anymore—it happens) and to care less about their outcome that way. Everyone fights hard and tries hard and it’s just not enough.

Obviously it’s a slasher, but NOES 2010 is really like a thesis work film on CSA and how it affects people, and the commentary is both responsible, and really, really well done. As someone who has had to write a character who has committed that kind of crime, and walk the fucking razor’s edge between making them duly awful, and not crossing the line into anything exploitative or gratuitous, I can say with certainty that is not an easy thing to do. Because you want to give weight to the suffering that has been inflicted and realistic portray of the depravity of your villain, but again, you really don’t want to show anything more than you have to. That’s not what it’s about, and honestly, you can talk about that kind of a serious issue without actually showing things on screen. A film about CSA would be kind of defeating its own purpose if anyone who had ever experienced that shit went to watch the movie and went away more traumatized. The film does a really responsible job of walking that line. Freddy is awful, and there’s a constant threat with him—especially in the film’s climax—but he never actually assaults anyone onscreen (or off, except in the referenced past. The worst thing he does onscreen is lick someone, which is still incredibly disgusting), and the film still manages to keep how awful he is very, very real.

CSA is a really shitty thing to go through, obvious, it feels incredibly of dumb to type that—any assault is. Obviously. One of the big things in dealing with it after is a lot of the time, victims can feel broken, or damaged, and even worse, be talked about like they’re some kind of ‘damaged goods’ by incredibly shitty people in their life, but the film doesn’t even give that enough weight to bring it up. There have always been two big ways in film to combat ideas, one of which is direct confrontation (IE a film specifically about something being wrong—Do The Right Thing talking very openly about racism for instance) and by just straight up not doing the thing (Star Trek dropping a woman of color in as both a major cast member, romantic interest for people of other races, and someone working in a position of power, and just being like Yup. This is just normal). Both of which are very necessary and useful approaches. In NOES 2010, all four of the protagonists are in romantic relationships at some point (and so is Dean, the mini-lead protag). It’s not played out voyeuristically, and you don’t get any hot makeout seshes, but they’re definitely in comfortable, functional, physical relationships. In a silent but fucking hardcore stance, while Kris and Jesse spend the night together early in the film, there is not a single on-screen kiss until Quentin and Nancy have found out the truth about what happened to them as kids, and a few minutes later, right before their final confrontation, they kiss. Not even a second thought about anything, except how much they really need and want to kill this piece of shit coming after them, as it should be. It’s a rockhard solidification that not only do the characters not see each other differently because of what happened, but it has done nothing to change who they are or what they can be.

The movie is only an hour and a half, which isn’t that long, but still manages to pack in not only multiple different realistic reactions, (Quentin goes through some hardcore withdrawl/denial after finding stuff out initially, Nancy gets fucking mad), but to cover some of what this is like for their parents. In one conversation with Alan, Quentin’s dad, he tries to explain the mob enacted justice on Krueger years ago by telling him that he hopes someday when he’s a parent, he never has to experience how it feels having utterly failed to protect your child. Even though they only have like thirty seconds of flashback to work with, the script gets in one of the parents in dismay asking what other choice they have about hunting Krueger down, because the alternative is making their three-four year olds get on a stand and tell a room full of strangers what happened to them. It’s a horrible, awful situation to be in. Although it would be really easy to make some drama between characters and their families, even the characters who die have good relationships with their families, and neither the dead teens or their parents are ever narratively ‘punished’ for anything that happens. Kris’ last words to her mom before she leaves on a flight, about eight hours before Kris is murdered, are, realistically, “Love you.” The last thing Nancy says to her own mother is, “I know you were just trying to protect us. Thank you,” and her mother’s last words to her are, “I’m just glad you’re safe.” Characters still die, but they at least get the peace of deserved last words to each other. The film also not only definitely does not vilify the parents for burning Freddy to death for assaulting their preschool aged kids, but comes down in its finale openly supporting that vigilante justice decision, with Nancy’s last words in the film being thanking her mother for protecting them.

Even the whole nightmare theme fits in well with the story being told, because nightmares are a very common side-effect of past trauma, symbolically, there’s a lot people have to fight through in their lives when that kind of shit happens to them, even years later, and it genuinely isn’t given enough weight by most people. As kind of icing on the cake in the film, not only does Nancy get to kill Freddy, he dies in a very ugly, undignified way, with a slit throat and gross expression on his face, after getting his ass handed to him in a like a thirty second fight in reality with two very motivated teenagers.

Plus, Quentin Smith is canonically ADHD, and Nancy Holbrook is a really underrated protagonist who reads autistic and I love her.

Anyway. This movie does a great job about using horror as a medium to talk about a topic usually only people already interested in that specific topic would check out, plays out its narrative very responsibly, comes down hard with a big two thumbs up to murdering your local pedophile in a bonfire, and says fuck you to assault victim stigma. My only real beef with this film is that they were so dead set sure they would have a sequel that instead of ending with real resolution, it’s got a stinger at the end (on rewatches I always skip the last scene lol).

Not that it’s a flawless film—it’s got budget parents, which I think is both hilarious and fantastic (meaning everyone except I think Dean has only one parent, the same gender as them, and it’s hilarious and I adore it). They had rushed filming for some of the end. Etc. But it’s really solid, and doesn’t get enough credit as a film. It’s very different from the original—less campy, less funny. But it’s supposed to be. It’s telling a different story. And it’s telling a really good one.

[youtuberswithalex]

hold on i found all of my old Christian music and im emotional, the nostalgia, so im just gonna do a react post--

first song was Hope is Coming by Nate Deezy and oh boy. oh boy. i met the dude and knowing how he talks and listening to his music. oh boy, he was kind of mimicking AAVE and it’s. not great to listen to now. the song is a bop music wise but. yikes

Overcomer by Mandisa. I used to BOP to this song and you know what? I still do. I saw her in concert and she was AMAZING

The The Earth Is Yours came on, which already was one of my favorites, and it was the cover by Gungor (or their original? I can’t remember) and I almost started crying because. Gungor’s music always made me feel really close to God, like He was my best friend. and now I kind of feel like I’ve lost a friend in stopping being Christian, and though I know I can still pray and stuff while still not being Like That, it just... hurts too much because it was so weaponized against me. I miss relying on Him for everything though.

Pause to get lunch

Good Morning by Mandisa and TobyMac. Hearing “top of the morning to ya” set off a visceral reaction to high five the air. also hearing them interact at the end is adorable

COME ALIVE BY CROWDER OHHH IT’S A BOP!!! 

YOUR LOVE!!! 

IS A LEMONADE

call me out by gungor?!?! how could i have forgotten this one!!!!! OH MY GOD AND I JUST REALIZED??? HOW RELEVANT THIS IS????? IF YOU TAKE OUT THE CHRISTIAN STUFF THIS IS STILL HOW I FEEL?????? CALL ME OUT WHEN I DO THINGS WRONG PLEASE

could i......... do a sanders sides animatic to this

WHITE MAN BY THE MICHAEL GUNGOR BAND. THE SAME BAND BUT A DIFFERENT NAME. THIS SONG NEEDS TO BE PLAYED TO EVERY CHRISTIAN WHITE SUPREMECIST. GOD IS NOT A MAN. GOD IS NOT A WHITE MAN. GOD IS NOT A WHITE MAN SITTING ON A CLOUD. GOD IS LOVE AND HE LOVES EVERYONE.

i just copied and pasted a link to the song on facebook jfkdlsjf pray for me (no pun intented)

Beautiful Day by Jamie Grace... I’m pretty sure I first heard this song on Veggietales? or maybe i freaked out when I saw it on Veggietales bc I already loved this song lmao. But it is still... you guessed it... a bop

i also just realized how much more diverse my music was back then versus now... out of the four artists I’ve listened to, half (if not 3 of them? i don’t remember what Gungor looks like) are POC. bruh current alex, I know all you listen to now is the RWBY soundtrack, but like. Diversify my dude

OHH HEAVEN BY GUNGOR??? THE CHILLEST CHRISTIAN SONG I ADORED

YOU ARE!!!!!!!!! CROWDER AGAIN

oh my god. oh my god jesus freak by newsboys. this song is fucking WILD to see in concert. the drummer goes up on a platform that goes sideways and starts SPINNING. while he’s going H A R D. also this song totally matches up with what i listen to now, style wise??

oh my god im getting dizzy from jamming to this one

R E S T A R T WE’RE GETTING ALL THE NEWSBOYS JAMS SUDDENLY

if anyone’s wondering what im doing as i listen to these, i’m currently checking out these artists’ twitters to see if they’re like... White Supremacist christians. Michael Gungor has made me happiest by blatantly retweeting and talking about the BLM protests, along with a tweet stating firmly that he accepts LGBTQ+ people. I knew I could trust this guy. I followed him. Crowder didn’t have anything blatantly for or against but he did make one post about not hating people using that one Dr Suess book, so like. he can slide for now but im not following him

DO LIFE BIIIIG!!!! JAMIE GRACE!!!!! THIS WAS THE ONE ON VEGGIETALES... WAS IT??? IT WAS AT THE END OF THE STAR TREK KNOCK OFF, I THINK???

OH BABY, FISHERS OF MEN BY NEWSBOYS

GO-O-O-O, GO-O-O-O-O

please be my strength by Gugnor? I don’t remember thohhhhh my heart i remember now

i used to harmonize to this all the time. it was one of the first ones i did that with :(

Steal My Show!! it’s pretty alright still. TobyMac didn’t really Get Me Worshipping like he did with a lot of other people, but I respect him at least-- wait let me check his twitter

alright i can respect him, he’s alright

Ah. Oceans by Hillsong United, AKA the song that every church-goer in 2015 hated because everyone played it every week. good reason to-- it’s really good still. are people still sick of it?? I remember holding my hands up to this a few times. and harmonizing many more

.......but oh man is it long. i do remember that now. eight minutes.......... why....... i definitely cried my eyes out and calmed down at conference one time during the length of this song

just realized that Jesus is a Friend of Mine isn’t on this playlist. Wow, Alex. Wow. What a waste of a Christian playlist.

THAT’S HOW YOU CHANGE THE WORLD

it’s so unfair that so many Christian artist put out That Kind of christian music, while Newsboys just. stole all of the talent. like come on guys spread it a bit. not EVERY song has to be a bop, you know /j

Speak Life by tobyMac. i... think im gonna skip this one jfkdlsj im just so not in the mood for this. He is definitely that That Kind of Christian Music style

LORD YOU ARE GOOD AND YOUR MERCY ENDURES FOREVERRR OH HOW WE JAMMED TO THIS AT CONFERENCEoh god it’s a live version and you can hear the Presbyterian Clap in the crowd

OH MY GOD MUSCLE MEMORY JUST BROUGHT BACK THE DANCE THAT WE HAD AT CONFERENCE OH MY GOD I COMPLETELY FOR GOT ABOUT THIS

i wish it brought back more than just the bridge before the chorus lmfao

alright skipping the rest of this because oh boy is it repetitive

STRONGER BY MANDISAAAA i forgot about this one omg. i loved this one, it used to be my Uplifting Song

Got another tobyMac and just skipped it jfkdsl

OH GOD’S NOT DEAD BY NEWSBOYS the movie was a lot of christians-are-oppressed propaganda but the song is pretty good still, i catch myself singing it sometimes still tbh

TRADING MY SORROWS?!?!?!?!? TRADING MY SHAME???!!!!! LAYING THEM DOWN FOR THE JOY OF THE LORD?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? A BOOOOP

this was another one we had a dance for!!!! i remember this one more bc it was so much easier lmfao

HAPPY DAY!!!!!! THIS WAS MY FAVORITE ONE TO SING AT THE BIG MORNING AND EVENING MEETINGS AT CONFERENCE!!!!!! but this version is so slooooow but i couldn’t find any other version

....You Have Me. The song I always said that, when I die and go to Heaven, I’m going to find God and dance with Them to this song. Maybe, if They’re up there, we still will. This song gave me so much comfort in a time when I felt so alone.

I hope They aren’t mad at me for abandoning them. I hope They understand why I stopped going to church and listening to my parents about Them. That I remember who They truly are supposed to be, and that it’s not Them I left, but the church, and I struggled to disconnect the two. If They’re real... I hope they know that. And I hope They aren’t upset with me. I hope They know I’m sorry.

Fuck. I’m crying.

They DO still me. They DO still have my heart. But it’s the people that pretend to know Them that ruined me. I need to find a way to sever the connection. I want my best friend back. I miss Them. I miss being able to talk to Them about things and trust that They’ll take care of things and take care of *me* because They love me, no matter what my parents say, and They know who I am and They don’t love me despite that, but because of it.

THAT’S what I was taught. THAT’S the God I worshipped. Not the fake one the White Supremacists have taken hold of and ruined. The God that gave up Their only son to prove to us that They love us.

I don’t understand a lot about religion anymore. But I miss Them. I miss that comfort and love.

Fuck. Maybe that’s a good place to end this. If you made it this far, congrats! Thanks for coming on this journey with me. It was a long one. You’ve seen a piece of my heart that I’ll probably stamp back into the closet within a couple of hours lol

[niniblack]

As yet untitled Star Wars once upon a time au...

Yes, you read that correctly. Sorry, if you’re waiting on the next chapter of the boyfriend experience. I’ve reverted back to high school and started writing Star Wars prequel time travel modern AUs instead. (The next chapter of TBE is in the works, it’s just angsty as hell so...)

I’m posting this to gauge some reaction because I don’t know many SW people and I haven’t written for this fandom since I was literally in high school, so I’m very rusty. James is Anakin, obv. It helps if you’re at least familiar with the concept of Once Upon a Time (wikipedia has all you need), but that’s really all you need to understand this.

- - -

James decided to treat himself to a glass, or perhaps two, of nice whiskey that evening. It was his birthday after all. They were meant to be special. Even if he’d spend the day working, and was now spending the night alone, for who even knew how many years in a row now.

He’d barely taken a sip when there was a knock on his door.

He hadn’t ordered anything and wasn’t expecting anyone, so was surprised when he opened the door to find a kid standing in the hallway – a mop of blond hair; jeans, a t-shirt with a cartoon on the front, and a nice looking jacket; clutching one strap of a backpack over his shoulder.

“Are you James Smith?” the boy asked.

“What are you selling?” James asked.

The boy frowned. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m Luke.” He waited a moment, looking up at James with wide blue eyes. “I’m your son.”

James wasn’t sure he’d ever been speechless before, but he felt it now. He tried to say something for what felt like a full minute before managing, “I don’t have a kid.”

“Yes, you do.”

James frantically tried to recall what he’d been doing… ten years ago? The kid looked around that age. He’d been 23 and… in the hospital, for six months out of that year. “I don’t think so.”

The boy – Luke – looked annoyed. He shoved past James, into the apartment, and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. “My mom’s name is Paige Nadler,” he said over his shoulder. “You probably don’t remember her though. Or don’t remember that name.”

Paige? James didn’t think he’d ever dated a Paige. “You got the wrong guy, kid,” he told him, letting the door fall shut and following Luke inside. “Where are your parents? How did you get here?”

“You’re my parent,” Luke said. He’d perched himself on one of the kitchen stools. “And I took the bus.”

“From where?”

Luke was spinning around on the stool, letting his backpack drop to the floor, as he surveyed the apartment. “You live by yourself?” he asked.

“Yes,” James said. “Look, you can’t just barge in here and claim I’m your father. I’m not. I’m gonna call someone to pick you up.”

“Not the cops!” Luke was suddenly frantic, jumping off the stool and running over to James’ side to reach for his phone. James held it up out of reach. “Please don’t! I just wanted to meet you!”

James frowned down at him. “I didn’t say I was calling the cops.” When Luke didn’t say anything, he asked, “What’s your mom’s number?”

Luke shook his head. “You can’t call her.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t– She’s not–” Luke’s face twisted up, earnest. “You can’t call her.”

“I’m not who you think I am,” James told him, trying to say it gently. It probably didn’t come out that way, because Luke’s eyes were suddenly shiny with unshed tears, and unlike when people tried to use tears to get out of paying him, this time it made James feel awful. “I’m sorry, really. But I’m not your dad. It’s a pretty common name. And it’s a big city. You just got the wrong apartment. I’m sure you’ll find him at the next one.”

“How do you know I’m wrong though?” Luke demanded.

“I–” James paused. He… didn’t, actually. But surely he would know if he had a kid out there. The mother would have told him about it, wouldn’t they?

Luke leapt upon that pause. “See! You don’t know for sure. You could be my dad.”

“If that’s the logic you’re using then the old guy at the end of the hall who smells like piss could be your dad.”

“But we look alike,” Luke argued.

And he did have him there, James had to admit. They had similar coloring, and the same cleft chin. Luke was looking up at him hopefully now, and James sighed. “Lots of guys out there with blue eyes and a dimple.”

Luke sighed too, shoulders slumping.

“Where do you live?” James asked. “I’ll take you home myself instead of calling anyone, okay?” He kind of wanted to meet the kid’s mom, just to see if he did recognize the woman. Unlikely, but worth a shot.

Luke hesitated, but said, “Nuevo Esperanza, New Mexico.

James stared at him. “You took a bus here. From New Mexico.”

“I looked up how much Uber was but it was really expensive,” Luke offered, as if that was a good explanation.

- - -

The gps calculated the drive back to Luke’s hometown in New Mexico at nine hours and thirty-five minutes, and that was with no stops. Which should have been when James saw sense and called the cops to come get this wayward child and deal with him, rather than continuing to handle it himself.

But then he thought of the panicked way Luke had begged him not to. And, honestly, James had no desire to talk to police in even the best of circumstances. Luke still staunchly refused to give up his mother’s phone number, insisting that she couldn’t be contacted. So, it looked like it was up to James to take the kid home. To fucking New Mexico.

James had to sleep before embarking on that, so he set Luke up on the couch with a pillow and sheet and spent the time before he fell asleep hoping the entire encounter had been a weird dream, and that when he woke up the kid who may or may not be his wouldn’t be in his living room anymore.

No such luck.

“Can we stop at Taco Bell?” Luke asked the next morning, once they’d cleared town and gotten into Arizona.

“Do you see a Taco Bell?” James gestured with one hand to the barren desert scrub around them.

“I mean, at the next town.”

“The next town is not going to have a Taco Bell.”

Luke was quiet for half a mile. “McDonalds?”

They were about an hour into New Mexico when Luke asked to stop for probably the third time. There wasn’t a rest stop for miles, and when James suggested just pulling over to the side of the road Luke had turned to look at him with an expression of utter horror on his face. So James found himself driving twenty over and passing trucks with barely enough clearance to get them to the next rest stop before the kid burst. Luke took off running before the car had even come to a full stop.

James twisted his head to the side, trying to crack his neck. And realized that Luke had left his backpack behind. It was the first time he’d seen him let go of it since he’d arrived last night.

He was intending to look for Luke’s phone, and hopefully find it easy to unlock with a contact labeled Mom in plain sight, so he could finally call the woman and confirm that he wasn’t being led on a wild goose chase. It didn’t feel like Luke was lying, but as much as the kid talked he managed to not say anything substantial, and James usually had a good sense for these things. Something was up, beyond whatever had made the kid take a two day bus trip to track him down.

The phone was not easy to unlock. Luke had face I.D. and his passcode wasn’t any of the obvious ones James tried before nearly getting locked out. He dropped the phone back in the bag, and dug around for what else Luke had with him. A spare set of clothes – not that he’d changed into them this morning – a battery and charging cable for the phone, and something hard wrapped inside a t-shirt at the bottom of the bag.

James pulled it out. It was some kind of silver, cylindrical toy, though he had no idea what it was supposed to do.

“What are you doing?” Luke demanded, voice high. He’d left the passenger door hanging open in his mad dash for the rest stop, and was staring at the contents of his bag spread out across the seat in horror.

“Going through your stuff.”

Luke was stunned into silence by the honesty.

“What’s this?” James asked, waving the toy in the air.

“Careful!” Luke reached for it.

James handed it over. “What is it?” he asked again.

Luke bit his lip. “It’s a lightsaber,” he said, emphasizing the word. He was watching James closely, waiting for god only knew what.

“Is that from Star Trek?” James asked.

Luke’s mouth fell open. “What? No!”

James raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s–” Luke seemed at a loss for words, knuckles white around the lightsaber. “It’s yours.” He said, holding it back out.

James shook his head. “I don’t want your toy, kid.”

“It’s not a toy,” Luke argued. “And it’s yours. Look.” He changed his grip, holding it with two hands, and did something that made a bright blue-white beam of light spring forth from one end. The air was suddenly filled with a buzzing noise, like an electric grid. It grated against James’ senses like nails on a chalkboard.

He clambered out of the car, staring across the roof of it at Luke. “What is that thing?”

Luke’s mouth was set in a stubborn line. “Your lightsaber.”

“It’s a toy.”

Luke glanced around, then took a few steps toward the handicapped parking sign near them and raised the… James wanted to say blade, for some reason, but it wasn’t a blade. It was a child’s toy. An overpowered glow-rod.

It sliced through the metal sign in a clean sweep.

James blinked at it. Blinked again, forcefully. The sign was still sliced in half, and smoking slightly. He stepped toward it. The metal looked melted along the edge.

“What the fuck is that thing?” he demanded.

“I told you,” Luke said. “It’s a lightsaber. It was yours. You just don’t remember.”

“I’d remember if I owned a movie prop that expensive,” James said.

“No,” Luke insisted. “It’s your lightsaber. Your name isn’t James, it’s Anakin. Anakin Skywalker. And you’re my dad.”

James stared at him for a long minute. This was… worse than he’d thought. “That’s just a movie, Luke.” Was the kid’s name even Luke, or had he pulled that from the movie too? James hadn’t actually seen Star Wars, but Luke Skywalker and lightsabers managed to bleed into the general pop culture well enough.

“It’s real,” Luke insisted. “This is real.” He waved the lightsaber, and the blue light made a swish through the air with a swooping sound, the color blurring.

“And you think that I’m… Anakin,” James said.

Luke nodded.

“And your mom?”

“Her name is really Padmé,” Luke said. “She doesn’t remember either. No one does.”

James wasn’t even sure what to say to that. Luke was starting to sound delusional. He was saved coming up with something as Luke launched further into his explanation:

“It’s the whole town,” Luke said. “Time is frozen. No one ever ages or leaves or anything. The Emperor used the Force or something and sent them all here and now everyone is trapped and can’t remember who they used to be.”

“The Emperor used the Force to trap a bunch of Star Wars characters in a town in New Mexico where no one ever ages and they can’t remember being Star Wars characters?” James asked, trying to wrap his head around Luke’s delusion.

“Yes!” Luke said, looking excited for the first time in this conversation. “Well, except for me and Leia. We age. But I think that’s because we were born here.”

“Leia?”

“My sister.”

“Oh, right.” James nodded. “That’s, uh…”

Luke’s face fell, and he turned off the lightsaber, holding it loosely in one hand. “You don’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that,” James said.

Luke shook his head, staring at a point on the ground between them. “You didn’t have to. No one believes me.”

James felt too tall all of a sudden, standing over him. He crouched down, trying to catch Luke’s gaze. “Hey. I’m taking you home, aren’t I? I’ll talk to your mom and we’ll figure this out, okay?”

Luke scoffed, but didn’t look up.

James tried a different tack. “It is a cool lightsaber.” 

That got him watery blue eyes peering at him from under the too-long bangs.

“Let’s get going again and you can tell me how it works.”

James stood up, and placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder to turn him back towards the car. “Come on. Faster we get going the faster you can ask me to stop for more junk food.”

Luke laughed, a little. “We still haven’t found a Taco Bell.”

“Fine, next Taco Bell it is then.”

[kohanayaki]

Caught in the Middle (Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove) Ch 7

Links: Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7

______________________________________________________

Ch 7 .:Conflicted:.

Your expression was blank as you slowly walked in the general direction of your house, kicking a small pebble across the dirt road. It wasn't really a rational plan to just walk home. Hawkins was small, but you lived on the other side of town, and it would be way past sunset before you even made it to your neighborhood on foot.

As the sounds of people talking around you grew louder you looked up as you were crossing near town square to see the lights of Starcourt Mall, brighter than ever. You bit your lip as you looked around you, trying to avoid seeing anyone from school. Suddenly, your eyes drifted to the main part of the mall, landing on that same blue and striped striped sign you'd noticed your first day back in Hawkins. 

You knew Steve would be there, but you were out of options at this point. Quickly deciding the possible payoff was worth the risk, you found yourself swinging open the door to Scoops Ahoy, the bell on the door frame ringing out as you did. 

As soon as Steve saw you walk in he was worried. Your eyes were red from crying and devoid of that little sparkle that always seemed present in them. Your shoes were covered in dust from your trek over here, and you knew you probably looked just as shitty as you felt. 

“(Y/n)? What's wrong?” Steve asked, his brows knitting together. 

“It's fine,” you said, “Just. . . can I use your guys' phone? It'll be quick, I promise.”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, “It's in the back.”

You thanked him quietly and pushed open the door to the storage and break room, leaving Steve and Robin alone in the front. 

As soon as you disappeared Robin leaned in to whisper to Steve.

“This is your chance, dingus.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve's eyes widened.

“Oh come on, don't act like you haven't been obsessed with her since she got back here,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. Steve's face flushed red.

“ 'Obsessed' is not the right word,” he grumbled.

“Sure,” Robin said, unconvinced, “In any case, you need to make your move right now or you're screwed.”

“I'm already screwed, Robin,” Steve said, “She'd with Billy now, for some reason. . .” he said that last part under his breath, and Robin bit back a chuckle as he did. 

“Listen, it's not too late. I'll bet you five dollars she's upset because something happened with Billy.”

“Five?” Steve said, a brow raising, “You're on. And you know why? Because they were in their own little universe of gag inducing cuddles this morning. He would have to seriously fuck up to make her cry.”

“And you think he's incapable of that?” Robin scoffed. 

Steve went silent for a moment, but he didn't exactly get the chance to think too deeply as you came out from the backroom. 

Once again you had dialed your home phone and once again you wanted to slam your head into the wall when it went straight to voice message. 

“Thanks,” you said, getting ready to leave and make the long walk back home. 

“Uh, wait!” Steve said, a little too fast.

“Yeah?” You turned around to look at him.

“It's just. . . look,” Steve took a deep breath before he spoke, “I know something's wrong even if you say it isn't, and you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I'm your friend and I hate seeing you sad, so if there's someone I need to beat the shit out of, please tell me.”

As you stared at him you looked for any sign of insincerity in his dark eyes but found none. And just like that your walls started crumbling. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes again, and you stifled a sob as they spilled over. 

Steve started to panic as he saw you cry, but when you pulled him in for a hug he felt the tension leave his shoulders. He gingerly wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. He inhaled the faint scent of your shampoo, stroking your hair gently as you cried into his chest. Your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, and Steve wondered if you could feel it too. Everything about this just felt. . . right. 

“Something happened with Billy,” you admitted, wiping away your tears. 

Robin smirked at Steve from behind you, mouthing 'I told you' before pulling five dollar bills from Steve's tip jar.

Steve rolled his eyes, pulling his focus back to you.

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“It's kind of a long story,” you mumbled.

“We got all night,” Steve said. Suddenly an idea popped into his head, “Oh, wait, I have just the thing!”

Before you could protest you were being lead into one of the booths while Steve started scooping ice cream into a large bowl. He topped it with whipped cream, caramel sauce, hot fudge, and a cherry before setting it down on the table and sliding into the booth next to you. 

“The USS Butterscotch Supreme,” he grinned proudly, producing two spoons from his apron pocket, “And don't even think about saying 'I can't' because it's on me.”

A small laugh escaped you and Steve's smile grew just a little wider. 

“I think this is just an excuse for you to eat free ice cream from your own store,” you said. 

“You caught me,” Steve said, scooping a spoonful of fudge into his mouth, “Now what happened?”

You told him everything- how Billy kissed you in your bedroom weeks ago and was sort of seeing you in secret since then, how you heard Tommy, Carol, and him talking in the hallway, and how you were basically left stranded after your fight since he'd given you a ride that morning. 

“Hold on, you walked all the way here from school?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Yep,” you sighed, shoving another spoonful of the sundae into your mouth, “That's why I asked to use your phone, so I could call for a ride. I gave my stupid brother the keys and now he won't pick up the home phone so he's probably still out. I'm not sure if I should be mad that he didn't take the car straight home or worried that he might be out committing arson somewhere.”

“Probably both,” Steve laughed.

After a few moments of eating ice cream in silence Steve set his spoon down. 

“God, I seriously want to punch Billy in his stupid face right now,” he said.

“Yeah, me too. But the worst part is that I still really like him,” You chuckled weakly as you picked at the cherry on top of the sundae, “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“I mean, your words, not mine,” Steve said playfully. 

You shook your head, laughing as you took your last bite of ice cream.

Steve was angry, that much went without saying. Billy had always pissed him off, but hearing that he hurt you? Steve was livid. The fact that Billy, the rudimentary asshole, had somehow ended up with you made him think that maybe karma wasn't a real thing after all. But not only did Billy manage to steal your heart, he threw it away in an instant, and that made Steve more mad than anything. If he ever got the chance to be with you he'd never want to let you go, much less disrespect you and say shit behind your back just to impress his stupid friends. But he forced all of his emotions down for your sake. He knew you wouldn't want someone starting a fight on your behalf, it's not the kind of person you were. You handled your own problems, sometimes to fault, but your tenacity and resilience were some of the many things he liked about you. 

“I should probably get going soon,” you sighed, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I've still got a long walk ahead of me.”

Steve looked at you like you'd just grown a second head.

“I can give you a ride,” he said as if it was obvious.

“Really?” 

“Of course,” Steve said, “You think I'd make you walk home in the dark? I'm not that much of an asshole. . . anymore.” he grinned as he nudged your shoulder.

Steve caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision and saw Robin waving her arms around behind you. As you leaned over to grab your backpack Steve mouthed 'What?' Robin rolled her eyes, pointing to you and making a 'go on' gesture with her hands.

“Um, hey,” Steve said suddenly.

“Hi?” you chuckled. 

“Do you want to go see a movie?” he asked.

Robin face palmed hard and you turned at the sound, only to see her whistling and leaning ever so casually on the counter when you did. 

“N-not like, right now,” Steve stuttered out, “Obviously, that's crazy. You probably have things to do when you get home. I meant, like, later. Any time you’re not busy if you even want to-“

“I'm free for the rest of the night,” you said, cutting his rambling off, “And I'd love to.”

Steve's heart pounded in his chest as you agreed and he had to mentally slap himself to get out of his head. 

'This isn't a date,' he told himself, 'She just broke up with Billy, don't be a douchebag.'

“I, uh, kind of don't have money right now, though,” you admitted, bringing Steve back to reality.

“Don't worry about it,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Neither do I.”

He lead you by the hand to the back room and looked over his shoulder before unlocking the panel on the wall that lead to the storage passage. 

“After you,” he grinned. 

You couldn't believe it, you could see the lights of the movie theater flickering underneath the door at the end of the hallway. 

“Didn't think you were one to break company policy,” you snickered. 

“Hey, I can be bad sometimes,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek immediately after. Did he really just say that? Luckily for him you just laughed before starting to head down the hall. 

“I'll catch up with you,” Steve said, “Just give me a second.”

He turned to Robin and panicked slightly.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about my shift-”

“I'll cover you,” Robin said, “This is the first girl in a while that's actually made you feel something. It's written all over your face, lover boy. So go get her.”

Steve's eyes twinkled with silent thanks as he bounded down the hall after you.

“Don't embarrass yourself too much!” Robin called after him. 

As she watched Steve's back disappear into the theater she smiled to herself, taking out her whiteboard and placing the very first tally under “You rule”.

Steve found you situated in the center of the back row, and he slid into the seat beside you.

“What'd I miss?” he asked.

“The main character's trying to bang his mom,” you said. Steve nearly choked on his spit and you laughed at his expression. 

“He went back in time and met his mom when she was his age,” you explained, “Now he's trying to go back to his time.”

“Wait, I thought the movie was called Back to the Future,” Steve said in confusion.

“Well yeah,” you said, “He's trying to go back to the future because since he's in the past the 'future' is technically the present which is his time.”

Steve just looked at you, and you could practically see the gears struggling to turn in his head.

“Okay, it's official- You're way smarter than me,” he said.

“You're just now noticing?” you grinned.

“You're mean,” he said with a fake pout. 

You both laughed, much to the chagrin of the viewers around you. Throughout the movie Steve would give the occasional useless but funny commentary. You actually ended up having a really nice time. This wasn't like the banter between you and Billy. With Steve everything was lighter- he was more carefree and loved making you laugh. You looked over to him at your side and smiled slightly. He was watching the movie with child like enthusiasm, that dumb little grin on his face illuminated only by the screen. 

Never in a million years did you imagine you'd be at a movie with Steve Harrington, especially not tonight. If Billy wasn't such an ass today you would've gone to that record shop across the street, making out in his car and getting some greasy diner food after. You bit your lip slightly. You didn't want to think about that right now. 

Nonetheless you had an amazing time, and it was just what you needed to take your mind off things. Your day had been a hell of an emotional roller coaster, and as Steve pulled up to your house you couldn't wait to go to sleep. 

He got out of the driver's seat, opening your door for you. 

“Such a gentleman,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Well you know me,” he chuckled. 

As you reached your front door you turned to him, hands in your pockets.

“Thank you for tonight, Steve. Really,” you said, “We should do that again sometime.”

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly finding the doormat really interesting.

Neither of you noticed how close you were until that moment. You could smell the warm caramel on his breath from the ice cream you two had shared, and your breath hitched as his face inched closer to yours. Before you could register what was happening Steve pressed his lips softly to yours. It seemed to last for an eternity but in reality it was no more than a second, because you both seemed to realize what you were doing at the same time.

You quickly pulled away from each other and Steve immediately felt guilty. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“It's fine,” you said at an equal volume, your head spinning.

“I should go,” Steve said, turning around. 

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Part of Steve wanted you to ask him to stay, but he knew that was just a fleeting thought as the sound of your door closing echoed almost tauntingly in the night air. 

Steve felt like shit. What the hell was he thinking? You told him you still had feelings for Billy and he goes and kisses you just a few hours later?

“God I'm such an idiot,” he groaned, kicking the tire of his car before climbing in and driving away.

You heard everything go quiet as he left, and as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling with millions of thoughts swirling through your head, you knew you wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. 

_________________________________________________________

When you walked into school the next day you could feel the eyes on you. News spread fast at Hawkins High, and unfortunately your love life was no exception. You tried to keep your head low and get to your first period as quickly as possible. Of course, the universe wouldn't let you be so lucky. 

“(Y/n), I need to talk to you, please,” Steve said, running up to you. Kyle gave him a dirty look and he backed away slightly. “Look I shouldn't have-”

“Steve, please don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't want to talk to anyone right now,” you said, picking up your pace and wishing you had the ability to just teleport to your first period. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hawkins whore,” Tommy grinned, walking up to you. Carol was glued to his side as usual and Billy was right there with them, unable to meet your eyes. 

'Great,' you thought. Couldn't you catch a break?

“Just ignore them,” Kyle said, gritting his teeth as he pulled you away and continuing to walk.

“Two hours after Billy and you go running to Harrington, huh?” Tommy continued, “Gotta say, I always knew you were a bitch but I never took you for a slut. Guess looks can be deceiving.”

Steve's fists balled at his sides as Tommy said that, about to defend you when you spoke up for yourself.

“Does it really matter?” you spun around, eyeing at Billy who was still looking anywhere but at you, “It was nothing serious, right?”

As you quoted Billy's words he winced slightly and it gave you a bit of satisfaction to know he at least felt half as shitty as you. 

“That doesn't change anything, slut,” Carol glared with an annoying pop of her gum.

“That's rich coming from you,” you snapped, “Don’t you have a football team to milk somewhere else?”

“That's it,” Tommy growled, slamming you into the lockers by the lapels of you jacket. You grunted as the hard metal made contact with your back. 

“Get off of her!” Kyle shouted, grabbing his arm. Tommy just scoffed, twisting around to sock your brother in the stomach. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and he stumbled to the floor. 

You shoved Tommy off of you while he was off balance, running to your brother.

“Ouch,” Kyle chuckled weakly.

“You idiot, why did you do that?” you said, your eyes full of worry. 

“You've always been the one protecting me,” he said, “I don't know, I just thought I'd try to do that for you. Guess it backfired.” 

Even when he just got punched your brother always managed to crack a joke. You smiled down at him, but the moment was broken by Tommy's laughter.

“Aw, isn't that sweet?” he mocked, the rest of his group laughing along expect for Billy who didn't say a word. 

You felt red hot anger start to burn in your chest as you turned around to face Tommy. Everyone went silent when they saw your expression. No one in the school had ever seen you that mad before.

“Listen to me, you sorry sack of shit,” you said, your voice deathly calm, “Don't you ever touch my brother again, you understand me?”

“Or what?” Tommy smirked, getting in your face. 

You grit your teeth so hard you thought they'd break, your nails breaking threads in the cuffs of your jacket. 

“He's not worth it,” Kyle said, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You sighed through your nose, taking a deep breath. 

“Yeah,” you said, “I know.”

You turned around with your brother, starting to walk away. But Tommy wasn't going to let it end there.

“Yeah that’s what I thought!” he taunted loudly, following your pace down the hall, “Just run away like you always did! You’re all bark and no bite, (L/n). You’d never have the guts to-”

CRACK!

You whipped around, slamming your fist right into Tommy's face.

He howled in pain, recoiling as he held his bleeding nose. 

“You bitch!” he snarled, charging at you. Your eyes narrowed as you stepped to the side, letting him run into the lockers, following up with a knee to his gut. It was like instinct took over you, and you hated it. This was the part of you that you wanted to leave behind, but in the moment you couldn't be bothered to care.

Before you knew it there were teachers out in the hallway, pulling you two away from each other. Well, more like pulling you away from him. It was a fairly one-sided encounter.

“What the hell is going on here?” the principal asked, his arms crossed.

“She just punched me!” Tommy said, playing victim.

“He hit my brother,” you countered.

“Now, miss (L/n), violence isn't always the answer,” the principal said in his usual condescending tone that drove you crazy, “If you really did punch him first you have to be held accountable. Besides, even if he hit you first, you should never respond by hitting back.”

“So I'm just supposed to sit there and let someone beat the shit out of me?” you said incredulously.

“Miss (L/n)!” the principal gasped at your language.

You scoffed, pulling away from the science teacher's weak hold and heading towards the door. 

“I don't have to listen to this bullshit,” you said, digging for your keys in your bag, “I already know I'm suspended,” you called over your shoulder, “And don't bother calling the house, because when my dad finds out what really happened he'll go ballistic on your asses.”

You ignored the protesting shouts of the faculty and the sound of Steve and Billy calling your name as you got into your car and headed towards the nearest gas station. You needed a smoke, and it wasn't as if it'd be your first relapse of bad choices in the last few weeks. 

You ended up a mile north at a 7-11 just outside the Hawkin's county line where you knew you could get a package for free. You haphazardly parked your car outside and walked into the store, heading over to the cashier.

“(Y/n) is that you? Holy shit!” the boy at the register smiled widely. 

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a tight-lipped smile, “It's good to see you, Jason.”

“You know it's on me. Need a light?” he asked, already getting you a pack of Marlboros from behind the counter. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you said.   

As you started tearing the plastic off of the box you spotted a rough-looking figure in the back of the store, grumbling to himself. His clothes were charred, somehow, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Your brows knit together as you recognized who it was.

“Hopper?”

Read chapter 8 here !

Taglist: @in-my-dreams-2000 @ggclarissa @iris1697 @5sosxgrethan @ohnoniella @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @aspiring-fangirls-world @wow-im-so-tired @hopesxxhigh @justanothercrazyassfangirl @too-many-lanes @whimsylavender @bish-ima-clown @amarachoren @mosiacbrokenheartstf @mcuvlxgs @xapham @metuel18 @immirandaq @nellaphine @multi-madison @gingertalksshit @jojo-buttercup @kyberhearts @mvdelaine @minnie-marvel @caitlin-rose28 @zandaleekrz @r3inventedd @void-fire-rose @macymafia @wanna-be-idle @newtsshelbys @kimmydespell @weyheyokay @r4ttusr4ttus @cynthianokamaria @spookyartisanmuffineggs @youcanstandundermyamberella @ashadowoftheforest @shrektiledysfunction @arithatonegirl @banannie25 @daddyuwuss @truthdaze @supervoldejaygent @gigi-maria-argu @dolan-mendes 

[gosh-mr-big-brain]

girls in white dresses and blue satin sashes (these are a few of my favourite things)

It was the beginning of December and Albion was looking like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. The streets were blanketed in the softest looking snow and the streetlamps were shining, giving the entire world a hazy, dreamlike feeling. Gwen smiled into her hot chocolate, wrapping her hands a little tighter around the mug. 

She was curled up on her couch, thankfully far away from the biting winter cold, and listening to soft instrumental versions of her favourite Christmas songs, as she watched the first major snowfall of the year. It had been a tradition that her family had shared when she was little, gathering together to watch the first snowflakes tumble clumsily from the night sky. It was her favourite part of the winter season, so she decided to continue it even after her mother and father had passed and her brother had started travelling to far and wide places that, more often than not, didn’t have snow. Sometimes the tradition would make her feel nostalgic and a bit lonely, but right now she only felt warm and content. 

Gwen snuggled a little bit deeper into her blanket and let out a soft sigh. She wished she could stay in this moment forever.  

“Fuck you, you fucking arsehole! See if I ever help you with fucking Uther ever again!” 

Gwen physically jumped at the sound of a slamming door and the string of curses that followed. Her hot chocolate very nearly spilled out of her mug, onto her supposedly cheap couch and brand new winter-themed pyjamas. Breathing a bit shakily as adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream, Gwen carefully set down her mug. She narrowed her eyes, trying her best to listen for anymore shouting but all was quiet now. She waited another moment but, since the silence persisted, she decided to pick up her mug again and try to relax back into the content state she had been in earlier. She had raised the hot chocolate to her lips, leaning back against the couch when-

“I fucking hate you, you arsehole! You’re the worst fucking brother ever!” There were a few more shouts, accompanied by a pounding of fists on a door. 

This time, Gwen did spill her hot chocolate. 

“Shit!” she whined, wincing as the hot drink seeped through her pyjamas, onto her leg. Deciding that she had had quite enough with the disruptive fighting that was occurring across the hall, Gwen set down her hot chocolate for the second time and stood up. Her neighbours were about to get a piece of her mind. She strode purposefully to her front door and flung it open with as much bravado as she could muster. “What the actual hell are you doing?” Was what she had meant to snap, anger and annoyance clear in her voice. Instead, it came out more like, “What…? Are you doing?” Regardless, it still had the desired effect. 

The woman who had been shouting and pounding at her neighbour's door whirled around to face her, her dark hair swirling around her face and her eyes absolutely blazing. She looked a bit mad, actually, but Gwen was left breathless anyways. And then the woman’s eyes softened and she tried to smile pleasantly despite the anger she was still clearly feeling and Gwen nearly passed out because fuck! She was gorgeous and Gwen generally didn’t do very well when interacting with gorgeous people (See: Leon, her childhood crush). A moment passed where Gwen literally couldn’t remember how to make words come out of her mouth before the woman decided to take pity on her and speak instead. 

“I’m sorry?” she said, and, oh no, even her voice was gorgeous! Bold and elegant, with a lilting accent. Gwen was screwed. Suddenly, she remembered that the woman was talking and did her best to tune back in. “... and he decides that this is the night, of all fucking nights, to finally make a move on his best friend whom he has been in love with for ages. But it’s not like I have anywhere else to stay, most of the hotels are full and the streets are absolute hell anyways. So, I figured if I were annoying enough they’d have to stop fucking and let me in out of irritation and pity. Apparently I misjudged their abilities to ignore me. I’m rambling, sorry. My brain to mouth filter absolutely disappears when I’m sleep deprived.” She scrunched up her nose into an adorable look of annoyance. “Not that you needed to know that.” 

Gwen let out a rush of slightly awkward laughter. “No, it’s okay. I ramble a lot too, only when I’m nervous. Which is all the time, basically. I’m a very nervous person.” She bit her lip, trying to force herself to stop talking. “Not that you needed to know that.”

The gorgeous woman laughed, her eyes lighting up. “I’m Morgana, by the way,” she introduced herself, stretching an elegant hand out across the hall. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Gwen. Guinevere, really, but everyone calls me Gwen,” Gwen responded, almost stumbling over herself to move further into the hallway to shake the woman,  Morgana’s , hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m, uh, quite sorry that you got thrown out of your lodgings.”

Morgana smiled, again, letting go of Gwen’s hand. “I am too. Don’t get me wrong, I am desperately happy that my brother finally became self-aware enough to acknowledge his feelings and act on them but it would’ve been lovely if he did it before I got to town.” She placed a hand on her lilac suitcase that Gwen hadn’t noticed due to her looming crush and extended the handle. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes wandering as she seemed to be thinking about something else. “I suppose I’ll try to find my way over to Merlin’s and break-in. He owes me that, at the very least.” Morgana’s gaze suddenly flitted back to Gwen’s. “It was lovely meeting you Gwen, I’m sorry to have troubled you with all my shouting and then my rambling.” 

She was turning to leave when Gwen was suddenly struck with a brilliant yet awful idea. “You could stay!” she blurted, her words coming out a bit stilted. “With me,” she added, to clear up any confusion. 

Morgana turned back, one impeccable eyebrow raised. “Really? You’d let me, a complete stranger, stay in your home?” 

“Yes,” Gwen responded, without really thinking about it. This wasn’t an action that was so out of character for her, though, Morgana was right; she wasn’t usually so accommodating to complete strangers. But there was just... something about Morgana. She felt that she had to get to know her and, even if her brother lived right across from her, she was afraid that she’d never get to see her again. “I mean, yeah, sure. You said earlier that the streets weren’t too good and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt trying to find other accommodations when I could have helped you out here. Besides, if your brother lives across the hall, you only have a very short trek to march before you can murder tomorrow morning.” 

Morgana smiled widely at her. “You are a godsend, Gwen! Thank you so much!” And before Gwen even knew it, Morgana was closing the distance between them and enveloping her in a tight hug. Gwen tensed for a moment but then gave into it, hugging Morgana right back. She smelled like lavender. 

“It’s not a problem,” Gwen mumbled into Morgana’s shoulder, feeling a bit embarrassed but also overwhelmingly content. “ Really ,” she stressed, as Morgana pulled away. 

“Well, I appreciate it anyways,” Morgana replied. She clasped her suitcase handle again and tugged it onto its wheels. “Shall we?”

“Oh! Yes!” Gwen spun around to face her open doorway. “Just through here,” she stated, walking inside and wincing at the rather obvious statement. She could hear Morgana entering behind her, the clacking of her heels (Morgana was ready for some fancy institution or business meeting, dressed in a red blouse that was probably worth more than Gwen’s apartment and black dress pants, and here was Gwen, in hot chocolate stained pyjamas!) and the rolling of her suitcase a surprisingly comforting sound. 

“Your flat is adorable!” Morgana exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. “I love it!” When Gwen turned to face her, Morgana was beaming and looking right at her. 

Gwen, a bit flustered, said, “Oh, thank you! I quite like it, and it has a really lovely view.” 

Instead of turning towards the window to check out the aforementioned view, Morgana kept her gaze on Gwen. “You’re right, it really is quite lovely.” Then she abruptly moved towards the window, her movements a bit more stilted than the fluid motions Gwen had become accustomed to. 

Gwen shook her shook, feeling her cheeks heat up. Was this really happening? Only five minutes ago she had remarked to herself that Albion looked like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Now, it appeared that she was living one. However, she wasn’t complaining. Gwen joined Morgana at the window, hopeful and excited for whatever may happen next.