#also i’m sorry i started to get mad halfway through

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part three.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader Fandom: attack on titan (modern au) Word Count: 5.5k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - slow burn, mentions of sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @/saradika-graphics

part two. / part four. | masterlist

“You boned.”

“Annie!”

Eight o’clock in the morning and you’re already under attack.

Not a 'hello' or 'how are you' — just a crude accusation spoken very loudly in a very busy coffee shop.

You manage to salvage your coffee order before you can knock over the cup from shock, though the abruptness of Annie Leonhart’s proclamation sloshes some of the steaming liquid onto the table between you.

Annie doesn’t flinch when she answers.

“I see it in your stupid, beautiful face.”

“Can I please sit before you — I’m sorry, stupid and beautiful?”

“You are both. Don’t change the subject.” 

“You haven’t even let me—”

“I need every detail told to me in ways that would jeopardize our relationship with HR.”

Annie slides her sunglasses up to her hairline.

“Not that Shadis likes me to begin with.”

(Maybe you should have called out sick today.)

Drawing in a slow inhale through your nose, you give your colleague and friend a pointed look — as if somehow taking the ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ approach has ever worked on a woman like Annie.

“You almost made me drop my coffee,” you state instead.

“So you’re not denying it,” Annie catches, leaning halfway over the circular table. Her blue eyes sparkle with anticipation. “You met someone, and you did the do.”

“I did meet someone,” you confirm as you lean forward as well, matching her energy, “but no, we did not do the do. What are we in, high school?”

“Apparently,” Annie states with a growing grimace, unimpressed by your resolve. “Boring.”

Rolling your eyes, you pluck a sugar from the table to add to your piping-hot beverage.

“Fine, then you don’t get to hear about my boyfriend at all.”

Annie’s smug smirk drops to the floor.

Bingo.

You knew, out of anything you could have said, the b-word would trip up her war path.

Yet when you expect shock to follow, you’re treated instead with… worry?

(Well, that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting with the new relationship bomb drop.)

“Look me in the eye right now,” she demands, tone taking a serious curveball.

“I’ve only been looking at you this whole time, Annie.”

“Okay, well, keep staring at me.”

Annie takes a pause before quietly asking:

“I’m only going to say this once, because if I say it again I might throw up and have a stroke.”

“That’s… dramatic, but okay.”

“I care about you,” she starts with utmost sincerity.

Something uncomfortable bubbles in your belly, like the positive honesty feels weird — it is weird, coming from Annie, but still.

“I care about you a lot, okay? And I need you to know, because I care, that you really do not need to go back to whatever ridiculously stupid—”

“What?”

“—miscommunications he put you through. I know he has great hair and we’re surrounded by receding hairlines at the office so a full head makes it even more appealing, but—”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Without thinking, you dart your hand over the table and speak as fast as humanly possible.

“Ididn’tgobacktoPorco!” 

When Annie finally closes her mouth, you exhale and repeat with emphasis. 

“I did not go back to Porco.”

The tension in her face dissolves. “You didn’t?”

“Jesus, no, why the hell would I go back to Porco?”

“Because you said boyfriend, and it feels pretty sudden, so I just—”

“I said I met someone, Annie, not that I went back to someone.”

“It could have meant the same thing!”

Flopping back into your chair with a groan, you shake your head and bring the coffee cup to your lips. 

As you blow against the hot beverage, Annie seems to settle. Regroup. Assess.

“Okay, so it’s not Porco.”

“God, no. I’m pretty sure he’s still pleasantly happy with Pieck.”

“I don’t care what he’s happy with. Fuck that guy. So then it’s—”

A flicker of recognition passes over her face.

“—the eggplant guy?”

If only Levi could hear your work best friend describe him as the eggplant guy, given your text exchange before you ditched the bar last night. You’re not sure if you’d ever never live it down.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “The eggplant emoji guy.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Holy shit.”

Annie, dazed and dazzled by this newfound information, sips slowly on her six-shot heart attack of a hot coffee.

You still wait to take a sip of yours, forever the cautious one, and let the edge of the coffee lid hover a breath away from your lips.

Is it okay to tell your friends about this?

You didn’t ask. 

Hell, you haven’t had much of a conversation about what any of this means yet other than the fact that this relationship is exclusive and not as fragile as you’ve been conditioned to believe.

(Somehow Levi has already dissuaded an anxiety it took other men months to try — and significantly fail — at quelling.)

“Where’d you meet him?” Annie asks, breaking through the start of the cobweb doubts and mysteries can often so easily spin. “At the bar last night?”

“Sort of?”

Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, sort of?”

“Like…”

You trail off, trying to figure out the appropriate way to explain yourself.

“We technically met at the bar last night, for the first time?”

“Wait, so he’s a guy from a dating app?” Annie asks with a slight crack of confusion in her voice, sipping more of her coffee. “But I thought you got rid of those dating apps before the—”

She abruptly coughs, putting her drink down on the table in order to cover her mouth.

Ah.

There it is.

You knew you weren’t going to need to explain the situation very far with Annie. 

A natural-born detective, she puts two and two together before you have a chance to tease the miracle (mistake?) she’s conjured on a fateful napkin at a very shitty holiday party.

For a minute she stares at you, dumbfounded for what may very well be the first time in her life.

Her hand continues to cover her mouth. A tiny brown droplet bounces from her chin, dripping onto the wooden surface below.

Despite yourself, you feign nonchalance and finally take a sip of your coffee.

The warning sting causes you to wince and reluctantly sit the cup back down on the table.

Yep. Bad idea. Still too hot.

 “...it’s the Scout Services hotline guy?”

Annie’s voice barely registers past a whisper. 

Awe sweeps her expression—

Like she’s proud?

“Yeah,” you finally confess as if this coffee shop is a church ready to absolve your incoming sins. “The Scout Services hotline guy.”

Wooden legs creak as she scoots her chair closer.

Annie leans over the table with eager eyes and a mouth that’s catching flies.

“Did you stay over at his place last night?”

“No,” you concede, but you can’t help but add, “but I did see him twenty minutes ago.”

.

. — —

.

.

  There’s a difference between watching Levi work out from afar when you’re supposed to pretend you give two shits about the 90’s movie they’re playing on repeat between the morning news and music videos — 

— and watching Levi work out from afar when Levi is very aware that you cannot take your eyes off of him.

  After you locked the door to your apartment last night, getting ready for bed felt like a dream.

Grabbing water from the refrigerator felt like an adventure.

Shimmying out of your day clothes to an oversized t-shirt and sleep pants somehow felt exciting.

Like your world, once in sepia, had burst into technicolor.

For hours, a tingle lingered on your lips with the evidence of his boldness.

The ceiling was a makeshift projector, replaying the scene of him grabbing your face and pressing your into the wall of his apartment.

And, technically speaking, his bedroom would be right in this room, too.

Six floors up.

He’d been lying right above you, six floors up, for weeks, and you never knew.

By the time you finally found the relaxation to fall asleep, your alarm clock buzzed with the shrill urgency to start a brand new day. 

Truth be told, you didn’t care if you were tired.

Hell, even with bloodshot eyes and a dry mouth, you weren’t sure if you could actually be tired today.

Not when you had to pepper on some concealer and grab your best workout clothes to sprint a beeline to the gym.

(Something must be in the water if the gym could harbor this much excitement without seething sarcasm; the power of hyperactive horniness.)

Like clockwork, Levi was there — same workout bench, organizing the same class of free weights, but looking… lighter.

Maybe a little less serious.

Yet when the front door to the gym chimed with your entrance, his chin lifted instantly.

Searching eyes floated around, aimless with a flash of hope, until they eventually landed on you.

Something warm flickered across his face before he nodded once, a silent greeting.

Water bottle in hand, you raised your free hand to wave back before disappearing to put your stuff away.

By the time you left the locker room, Levi already began bicep curls in front of the mirror.

(Showoff.)

Slowly approaching the bench, you could feel the butterflies threaten to take over your entire body.

The way he so easily maneuvered you to that wall, the feeling of his lips on yours—

“Surprised you’re here so early,” Levi stated, bursting your dream bubble. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Bad news: the baritone in his voice was far worse in the morning.

(As if you needed any other reason to be distracted.)

“Something like that,” you confessed, unable to keep the smile from pursing your lips. “Are you always here this early?”

“Sort of.”

Levi paused to glance back at the weights he’s sectioned off at his bench before gesturing back to you.

“Actually wanted to catch you before you had work.”

You couldn’t stop the surprise even if you tried. “Oh?”

Right.

Because he knew what time you go to work.

Thanks to your motor mouth, he knew a lot of things about you.

Some would argue they’re things that no one else should.

It’s a little incredible that you could even look him in the eye after everything that had gone down between two telephones and a credit card.

Levi turned to set his free weights down on the bench below. He wiped his palms off on his hips and pivoted towards you.

For a minute you both waited there, saying nothing yet everything at the same time.

Silence usually freaked you out.

Not now.

Being in his presence was surprisingly perfect enough.

“Just wanted to wish you a good day at work, see if you slept alright, those sort of things."

"Oh," you lamely state again, trying your best not to break out into a giddy smile. "Well, I... appreciate the well wishes, and they're right back at you. Did you sleep alright?"

"Not exactly, but it wasn't a hinderance," he admits before jutting his chin at your body. "I like this on you."

"This what?"

"Your outfit."

Somehow his drive-by compliment had the power to wipe your memory of the outfit you chose between the time you left your apartment and now.

Your chin dropped to stare down at your clothes with a growing bashfulness.

“You do?”

Levi nodded once. “The color suits you.”

His words are so genuine that you couldn’t possibly come up with anything suave back.

Thank you? Too bland.

I think I look like shit? Lacking confidence was not a good look.

Instead you shrugged as nonchalant as possible and spoke—

“Well, you — you know, you look really good in white, so.”

You had to bite the tip of your tongue not to outright grimace. 

Smooth. Real smooth.

But not wrong — Levi was wearing a clingy white tank top and a pair of black basketball shorts. White was definitely in his color. It made the silver dog tags around his neck stand out louder.

"I meant it — the white looks great with your black hair, and I just —  please shut me up before I keep rambling about colors."

The corner of Levi’s lip curled upward briefly before he ducked his chin with a huff that almost sounded like a laugh.

As his head shook — in disbelief or modesty of his own, you couldn’t tell — his black hair swayed over his eyes.

“I could listen to you talk all day, you know that."

His tone was noticeably warmer now.

"But the attention to color is noted and appreciated."

Levi inhaled, taking a pause, before gesturing to the machines you’re usually situated at.

“Guess you don’t have much time before your shift?”

“Not really,” you confessed.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you promised Annie you’d meet her for coffee, then maybe you would have stayed a little longer. Talked all day, maybe, just to see if he was telling the truth.

“Well, I won’t keep you.”

Please do, you wanted to say.

Instead you nodded, pressing your lips together tightly. 

You weren’t sure if public displays of affection are on the table, so you gave a short, awkward parting wave.

Levi belatedly waved back, as if confused by the gesture.

“Have a good day at work,” he added before you turn.

As you made your way to the treadmill and assumed position, you noticed the way his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors watches your every move.

Eventually Levi turned to his set of free weights and began his typical routine — bicep curls, tricep extensions, back flies —

But every so often—

A glimpse.

After every set, a small but meaningful glimpse in the mirror found its way to you.

And shamelessly, for the first time in your life, you stared right back.

He watched as you departed for the showers and followed your departure through the exit.

.

. — —

.

.

“Holy shit. ”

“Yeah.”

To say you were giddy is an understatement.

Even now as you recount the brief meeting with your very-new, barely-a-day-old boyfriend, a flood of warmth unlike anything you’ve ever experienced washes over you.

“The insane odds that he’s been hot and sweaty at the same gym as you the entire time.”

Annie shakes her head, blowing her blonde side bang out of her face.

“I should’ve joined that stupid place when you asked.”

“Right? Shame on you,” you joke, attempting another sip of your coffee.

It’s still hot, but it doesn’t threaten to sear off your taste buds.

“Are his arms huge?” You shake your head, and Annie outright whines. “Oh, fuck, he’s lean?”

“He’s strong, I can tell you that.”

Pride.

Your tone is drenched in pure, unabashed pride.

(Because you are — proud, really, of the man you’ve managed to somehow charm into dating you despite the nagging feeling that he’s eons out of your league.)

As you dart your tongue between your lips to catch the remaining coffee, you watch as a dreamy Annie slowly but surely sinks back down into her chair.

Her brow pinches together, face scrunched in deep thought.

Then it smooths, though her one eye narrows to a squint.

“So then how does… everything work?” she eventually asks.

Annie reeks of skepticism, causing you to sit up taller in your chair.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you thought about it?”

“About what, Annie?”

“Y’know, the whole hotline thing.”

Right.

The hotline thing.

The part you haven’t quite processed yet.

Because at the end of the day, there is one very important truth:

Levi is an adult hotline operator.

Not only were you a former client as of a few days ago, but you are not naive enough to partake in the delusion that you were his only client.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of people called in nightly to get a fix.

There are only so many operators available nightly.

It wouldn’t be crazy to believe he has regulars.

Hell, he has the voice and the skill to possess an entire fanbase.

“Are you okay with that?” Annie adds as if she can hear your inner turmoil brewing within. 

Her tone reflects no judgement, for you or for him. 

It’s an honest question.

“I… have not gotten that far,” you are slow to start, choosing honesty as your best policy, before shaking your head. “I mean, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. I’m okay with that. I think I’m okay with that. I mean, I’m not stupid: a job like that is going to take a lot of… time and communication, but it’s a job just like anything else.”

“Like acting?” she supplies, and the haze is a little bit clearer.

“It’s technically a type of voice acting, right?” you agree, gesturing broadly with your hand. “And that’s certainly how this whole thing might have started out between us, but that’s not what it is now.” 

You may not be sure of many things in this world, but you’re pretty certain about that.

“It’s going to be a learning curve,” you continue, “but it isn’t like I’d ever ask him to quit his job over dating me.”

Annie nods and leans in to pick up her coffee, sipping slowly to gather her thoughts.

After a beat, she pulls the coffee cup away and speaks.

“You’re looking at this a lot more realistically than a lot of people would be, but I know that’s just how you are. A lot of people would be leery of that sort of occupation, so that’s why I asked. Not saying you have any reason to be concerned, it is a job, but boundaries and figuring out how to separate it from your former calls is… something to talk about.”

“And we will,” you reassure her earnestly. “Nothing about last night felt forced, if that makes sense. He’s… attentive? Intuitive? And he wants to talk things out. Do things right. Go slow.”

A grimace curls on Annie’s lip. 

“Go slow? What are we, in medieval times?”

“Annie.”

“I’m kidding,” she concedes, “sort of.” 

With a pause, she shifts in her chair and gestures with her hand at you. 

“Look, after all of Porco’s bullshit and the way the two of you ended in such a wishy-washy way, it’s nice to hear about a man that actually wants to communicate and go slow.”

“You really mean that?”

“Absolutely not, I’d die if the guy I was seeing went slow,” she replies, shaking her head wildly. “But we are two totally different people when it comes to romance. You love that whole wining and dining and waiting for the right moment shit, and I… do not.”

“Clearly.”

“And that’s why we gel so well.”

A genuine smile grows on her mouth. 

“But, seriously,” Annie continues. “I’m happy about anything that makes you happy. It might be unconventional, but aren’t most great things?”

She isn’t wrong.

Some of the greatest love stories ever told faced copious amounts of adversity and challenges.

Maybe dating Levi Ackerman will be one of the wildest adventures of your life, but you’ve fallen far too deep now to claw yourself out.

You want to see where this goes.

Where it could lead.

(To hell with conventional.)

As she lifts her coffee towards you, you catch Annie’s drift and lift your own.

The paper cups tap together in an early-morning ‘cheers’ of solidarity.

“And who knows?”

Annie smirks in devilish contemplation.

“Maybe he can tell me if my Bert’s actually tall, lanky, and breedable.”

“Annie!”

.

. — —

.

.

The day goes fast because everyone in your office is hungover.

Eren Yeager mourns the 80% tip he left for the bartender.

People ask where you went last night, but Annie — forever the wingwoman — tells them to mind their business, voice a hair too loud for their sensitive ears.

By the time you say your goodbyes at your desk, successfully avoiding your ex-boyfriend for yet another day in the office, the sun has already begun to set.

You beeline straight home with a gurgling stomach and a skip to your step.

When you get off of the elevator and make it to your front door, you notice a tiny green sticky note hanging right under the rounded peep hole.

In all capital letters, jagged and purposeful:

------------- DINNER, MINE, 8?

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Did Levi leave this on your door?

Is he seriously inviting you over tonight for dinner?

Ripping your phone from your pants pocket, you quickly look for Levi’s phone number. 

Although you’re fairly — if not completely — certain it’s him, you don’t want to presume it was a note left on the wrong door.

[ME:] Hey, quick question. Did you leave a note at my door?

Within seconds, a reply flashes in your notifications.

[LEVI:] Did it fall off?

[ME:] No, but there wasn’t a signature on the note

Three gray dots dance as he types.

[LEVI:] Shit, I didn’t leave my initials?

[ME:] Nope

[LEVI:] Well that’s embarrassing.

Unable to keep yourself from grinning, you unlock your front door and waltz into your apartment.

You lock it once more and kick off your shoes, padding across the floor towards your bedroom.

[ME:] lmao it isn’t embarrassing, but I accept

[LEVI:] Great. See you at 8.

You’re about to toss the phone on your bed to freshen up, but it buzzes again.

[LEVI:] Do you enjoy pasta?

[ME:] Love it

[LEVI:] Good.

After a few seconds pass, you’re certain that’s the end of the conversation.

It takes ten minutes to hastily wash your face, fix your clothes, and fuss over your appearance in the mirror to finally give up and accept this is as good as it’s getting on such short notice.

(Why does nothing sit right when it actually matters?) 

Confidence may be forced and fleeting, but you do your damnedest to hold your head up high when you enter the elevator and press on the button to illuminate Levi’s floor.

You can do this.

You can have a casual, very-last-minute dinner date.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding…

Ding.

The elevator doors open, and you make your way to the door you’d stumbled out of the night before.

Your knuckles rapt at the wood before you can chicken out, waiting for a response.

Muffled shuffling can be heard on the other side of the door before it flies open.

Levi Ackerman stands before you in a black apron tied around his neck and hips, obscuring the creme-colored Henley hugging his torso.

His emerald-green oven mitt sits idly against the edge of the door, creating a barrier between his apartment and the hallway.

“Hey,” he greets, and your heart melts.

“Hey.”

“Thanks for coming by. Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved, actually.”

Something glows in the corner.

When your attention is ensnared by it, your eyes can’t help but widen.

On his small two-person dining table sits a tall candle burning on a cheap golden pillar.

There aren’t any other decorations or place mats. It’s just that sole candle, two folded napkins, and a set of silverware for each.

“My shitty friends told me it would be… appropriate to light a candle, when a date is coming over,” he explains slowly and all-too seriously. “I don’t typically light candles when I’m eating food.”

When he turns to glare at the barren romantics on his table, you note that the tips of Levi’s ears burn pink.

(As if you could be any more endeared.)

By the looks of the candle wax dripping down, it had been sitting there for a while.

“Candles are good,” you promise, toeing your shoes off at his front door. “I like candles.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I have like a million of them in my apartment.”

Levi can’t help but snort. “I have only this one that I picked up on my way home today.”

He steps out of the way to let you in and trudges back to the stove where several pots steam to a simmer.

Picking up the handle with the oven mitt, Levi carefully fills two circular plates full of seasoned spaghetti with a blush sauce and some basil drizzled on top.

Taking a seat by the candlelit table, you watch as he carefully picks up both plates and walks across the kitchenette towards you. He places both down simultaneously, serious in his delivery, before removing the mitt and apron to join you.

“How was work?” he casually continues once he sits.

“Same old boring stuff,” you confide, picking up your fork. “Do you cook often?”

“I do, yeah,” he confesses, mirroring your movements with his utensil. “Nothing elaborate, but it gets the job done. Do you?”

You scrunch your nose.

“When I’m not being lazy, sure. Instant ramen is my best friend, which is kind of a little sad. I want to start cooking more, but the drive doesn’t exactly hit me beyond, like, maybe once or twice a week. Leftovers are a godsend.”

There you go again.

As if rambling on the phone wasn’t enough, you can’t help but still do it in person.

The longer you talk, the more your brain screams at you to stop, but it’s that slight oversharing that always seems to sneak itself in.

An imperceptible smile graces his face. 

“Guess you’ll have to visit more during the week, then, so you go home with proper meals.”

The idea makes your heart flutter. 

“Guess I do.”

Both of you grow silent as you eat the (unbelievably) delicious meal he’s conjured.

You can’t get over how good a simple plate of spaghetti can be, but you imagine it’s whatever he’s done with the sauce that pushes it over the edge. 

After an exhausting day of office work, you try your damnedest not to scarf it all down.

Then you open your big damn mouth, not even thinking:

“Do you have work later?”

Because that’s what normal people ask, right?

About occupations, about schedules — it’s reciprocal to ask him about his job, but the metal of his fork scrapes across the plate as his hand completely stills. 

Levi’s attention rises back to you, fleeting apprehension in his gaze.

“I’m supposed to,” he cryptically replies.

“Supposed to?”

A hush falls over the intimate crowd.

Your brows knit as you attempt to decipher what isn’t being said.

Levi remains still, doing the same in return from the other end of the table, before slowly answering.

“If… you don’t want me to clock in, then I understand.”

When your eyes widen with the implications, he shakes his head and sets down the fork.

“I mean to discuss this with you before we go further anyway.”

That festering self doubt from the night before begins to creep up the veins of your hands, towards your hammering heart.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Levi huffs. “I understand my occupation isn’t conventional. Most people wouldn’t put up with the—”

“Put up with?”

You blurt, accidentally disrupting the beginning of his speech.

Setting down your own fork, you rest your hands in your lap as you put on your brave pants and take a leap of faith.

“Levi, I’m not asking you to quit your job over me.”

His head turns a fraction of an inch, eyes narrowed.

“It’s like acting, right?” you continue, returning to the conversation you had earlier with Annie. “It isn’t… real. I mean, not really. You put on a character and it—”

“Let me just stop you for a second. Please.”

Levi sits up taller, softening his tone despite the firm interruption.

“I meant what I said to you last night. You’re the only person I have ever crossed that line for, and our connection is something that will never happen again. I want this to work, so I’ll be as transparent as you need me to be so you never feel as if my job is anything but what you said — acting. Yes, it is a character. And no, Levi on the hotline is…”

He sighs heavily, as if this is a heavy burden he’s carried.

“That Levi is not this Levi sitting across from you.”

“I know.” 

You find a moment of bravery to not only interject, but reach across the table to grab the hand resting its surface.

Levi momentarily tenses at the touch before overturning his hand, curling his fingers around the edge of your palm to your wrist.

“I need you to know that I’m fine with being your cheerleader,” you promise, “and I’m not saying that just to… I don’t know, trick you someday down the line.”

Levi’s expression softens.

“You’re allowed to change your mind about me, though.”

“I know,” you repeat with a hint of amusement. “I’m not kept captive on the sixteenth floor. I very much want to be here, with you, eating dinner. Maybe a couple of times a week if you’re not too busy.”

“Never too busy, no,” he replies, softly running his fingertips along the inside of your wrist in a soothing manner. “My door’s wide open for whenever you want to spend time here.”

You burst into a grin. “Just not during your work hours.”

You can’t believe it.

Levi opens his mouth to respond, but a pinkish hue sprinkles across his cheeks and spreads up and under his black fringe to his ears.

You made him blush?

“You… I mean, maybe one day you could,” he nearly sputters. “I don’t recommend it — not because it’s too explicit, but it — Sorry, you caught me off guard with that.”

To say it feels empowering to throw confident, dominant Levi off of his axis is an understatement.

You can’t help but abandon your food and lean your elbow on the table.

Leaning against it, you glance down at your joined hands and purse your lips to avoid smiling.

Ideas.

Very bad ideas swirl like a surprise storm in your mind.

With this newfound shift in dynamics, of testing the waters of what this is in comparison to what you previous had, you can’t help but open your mouth and ask one very pointed question:

“Do you need a warm up?”

Levi’s brows knit as he stares you down, studying the forced neutrality on your face. 

“A… warm up?”

You’re not sure what you’re saying right now.

Your lips move, sure, and you hear your voice, but your brain is about three words behind.

“Just saying, since you’re working tonight. Like how Broadway performers do a vocal warm up before they go out on stage, if you needed—”

“You want me to warm up for my job for the night... by telling you how to get off?”

Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re proposing in this momentary lapse of judgement.

"In my own apartment," he clarifies, "right in front of me."

Levi isn’t even actually trying and all the heat shoots straight between your legs.

Maintaining eye contact, you can’t help but swallow.

"I guess that's kind of moving too fast, huh?"

“A little," he confesses, but there’s an element of breathlessness to his voice.

Is it a stupid idea? Maybe.

One could argue jumping into a relationship with the guy you were having hotline sex with for a week is also a stupid idea.

You never claimed to be a smart woman.

"And I know you want to take things slow, but..."

As you trail off, recognition passes across the dark-haired man's face.

Then — an almost playfulness in his tone, if you really listen closely.

"...but I’ve already heard you come at least twenty times in twenty different ways over the phone before I even got to ask you out," Levi finishes for you, "so I think it’s safe to assume we make our own rules.”

Unconventional.

What your best friend called this relationship skitters across your mind; a reminder that no matter how by the book you do this, it’ll still be a little off-kilter.

(And you realize you like that.)

“And how about a twenty-first?” you ask.

"I wouldn't say no," he blurts, then explains. "I... want to go slow, yeah, but I can't lie and say I don't miss hearing you."

You can't stop your brows from flying up.

"You miss hearing me—"

"Yeah."

The room feels ten degrees hotter, and it isn't the candle's fault.

Levi's throat bobs as he heavily swallows.

“Are you positive about this?”

Are you?

Your attention is unwavering when you respond. “Only if you want to, too.”

Expression still neutral, Levi contemplates.

His eyes drop blatantly to your lips, lingering, before they return to your face. And, with barely a whisper—

“I need to hear you say yes or no. Explicit consent. You know me.”

Anticipation floods your veins.

You nod, then for good measure, “I do. Yes.”

“And you know you can stop at any time.”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m still taking you out on that damn date.”

“I don’t doubt you, Levi.”

Levi inhales, slow and steady, through his nose at the sound of his name on your lips.

“...color?”

Something about hearing the stoplight measures vibrate in his very throat makes you more than ready to throw caution to the wind.

“Green.”

A hand raises as Levi’s hand runs across your cheek.

His thumb glides along your lower lip, right to left, before settling at its center. 

Testing the give — the submission — the pad of his thumb tugs your lip down.

It’s met with no resistance.

“Then take a seat on my bed.”

.

Author's Note:

The AO3 author curse hit me, but guess who is back!

I appreciate all of the comments on AO3 and the messages here in my absence with this story. The enthusiasm (and re-reads oh my gosh, I could send you all little treats for the re-read messages!) has seriously been my north star for the last four months. We are, in fact, getting spicy as hell next chapter.

Thank you for any reblogs, replies, etc. Every comment gives this writer wings.

[mattluvr]

CEO!matt when reader is soaked with rain so her his favorite white button is see through

“sorry i’m late, sir.” you apologise, barrelling through the door to his office in a damp trench coat, umbrella hanging limply by your side.

a storm had hit boston hard and fast this morning, and due to a missed alarm, you’d not had time to check the weather forecast as you’d rushed to get ready. evidently, your weak attempts at protecting yourself from the harsh rain hadn’t worked in the slightest, freshly washed hair now slicked, makeup running down your face.

all this, and still matt found himself having to adjust his pants and scoot under his desk that slight bit more to hide his crotch from your view.

you see, you’d made the silly decision to wear a white shirt to work today, now obviously soaked through by the rain, white lace bra visible to the naked eye. and, what makes it worse for matt is that it’s his favourite shirt of yours, the buttons starting halfway down your chest, ruffles lining the edges, only drawing more attention to your cleavage. which didn’t help his issue down there.

you frown as you observe matt’s pinched expression, certain that he’s mad at you for your tardiness, and you slowly put your umbrella away, shaking the rain off you as you shrug off your coat also.

great. now matt has an even better view of your tits your see through shirt, gulping and rubbing the bridge of his nose in an attempt to pull his eyes away.

“is everything okay, sir?” you mumble, stepping forward to check he isn’t dying or some shit, which obviously receives a knee jerk reaction from your boss, who snaps his head up and waves you away.

“you can, um, go. i don’t care about you being late.” matt hisses, angry at how his eyes keep subconsciously travelling down to your chest. his next words are strained, but he feels they need to be said before he gets reported for harassment. “and change your shirt. the rain’s made it see through.”

you look down and realise that matt is in fact correct, and your cheeks flush bright red, pulling your coat back on as quickly as possible. “shit, i am so sorry.”

and before he can say anything else, you’re running out of the room, embarrassment flooding through your body as you rush to the end of the corridor, back to the safety of your desk. you can’t believe that’s just happened to you, in front of matt of all people. and, on top of all that, the bra that just so happens to be on display is the sexiest one out of your entire lingerie drawer. naturally.

you groan, opening up your laptop to start your work for the day, still blissfully unaware of matt’s actual reaction to your transparency problem. who, speaking of, is currently cooped up in the bathroom attached to his office, rubbing one out.

his hard on had been raging. it’s not his fault you’d decided to wear such a see through shirt on the rare day it storms in boston.

he finishes and calls you back to his office. to see your inappropriate outfit again. duh.

taglist. . . ( @mattslolita, @aelinslegend, @chrissturniolossidehoe, @mattbrainrot, @conspiracy-ash, @emely9274, @matts1freak, @h3arts4nat, @sturn777, @sofieeeeex, @ifwdominicfike ) is open!

divider credits. . . @issysh3ll

thank you for all the CEO!matt requests, i’m working through them slowly but surely 🫶

[belit0]

Uchiha with a love interest that ‘be in situations™️’

Gods silliest soldier fighting his wackiest battles

‘Sorry, gotta run I fucked up and sold my soul to the fae. Don’t worry I’ll weasel out it.’

‘Did you know that training seagulls to steal food for you is a crime? Also, I need to hire a lawyer.’

‘Babe, don’t be mad, but I was practicing our wedding vows in the woods and got hitched to a dead person on accident. I think I can get out on technically but she might get the house.’

‘Did you know the daimyo is bald? No this has nothing to do with the wig on the dog.’

Don't worry, I've watched it many times asjdhalksdh

Madara

“Babe, don’t be mad, but I was practicing our wedding vows in the woods and got hitched to a dead person on accident. I think I can get out on a technicality, but she might get the house.”

Madara stares at her in total silence.

Not even a blink.

The kind of stillness that makes birds stop singing and grown men reevaluate their life choices.

-What.

-Okay, before you get all murdery, let me explain. There was a full moon. The vibe was romantic. I was practicing vows. Just—y'know, casually, emotionally, passionately—like people do when they’re catastrophically in love with a war criminal.

He doesn’t respond.

Just watches her with the slowly dawning look of a man whose blood pressure is hitting god-tier.

-And then this woman appeared. Gorgeous. Flowing hair. Hovering about three inches off the ground, very ethereal. She looked like a bridal ad from beyond the grave.

-Because she was.- His tone is glacial.

-I know that now.- She points accusingly at the woods. -But at the time, all I saw was someone with great taste in veils and a real flair for dramatic timing. I panicked. She said "repeat after me" and honestly? That’s on her for being too efficient.-

He closes his eyes.

Very slowly. -You married a ghost.-

-Technically, yes. But I only said half the vows.

-You. Married. A. Ghost.

-Don’t be mad. It’s not like I gave her your ring. Also… she might have a claim on the estate, depending on how binding spectral unions are in this region.

Madara pinches the bridge of his nose so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter.

-You married a wandering spirit and risked everything we own because you were... rehearsing.

She offers a sheepish smile. -I was just trying to get it right for us. You know, make it perfect. But now there's this vengeful spirit wife and she might have squatters' rights. So, maybe we start a polygamy arc? You, me, and the undead queen of spite? Could be fun.-

He turns and walks away mid-sentence.

She follows him, voice bright. -We can make a schedule! Mondays and Tuesdays for me, Wednesdays for ectoplasm date nights—Madara, don’t ignore me, this could work.-

Izuna

“Did you know the daimyo is bald? No, this has nothing to do with the wig on the dog.”

Izuna opens the door and sees her holding a very nervous pug.

In full ceremonial Daimyo attire.

Including a very expensive wig.

-What the actual fuck (Y/N).

-Okay, so technically speaking… you know how the palace has, like, a lot of stairs? And I’m very clumsy? And the Daimyo maybe doesn’t have great balance either?

-You pushed the Daimyo down the stairs.

-Tripped! He tripped. I tripped. We tripped together. Down sixty-seven steps of betrayal.

He doesn’t blink.

Doesn’t move.

The dog barks.

The wig shifts.

-And the dog?

-I thought maybe if we slipped the wig on something and walked it past the guards real fast, no one would notice. Dogs are stealthy. Very royal in vibe. Strong posture.

-You impersonated the Daimyo with a dog.

-Technically allegedly. Anyway, can you fight extradition charges? Asking for me. And the pug.

Izuna walks into the woods to scream into the void.

The pug gets a better seat at the war table than (Y/N) ever will again.

Shisui

“Did you know that training seagulls to steal food for you is a crime? Also, I need to hire a lawyer.”

Shisui’s halfway through a dango when (Y/N) bursts in, covered in feathers, bleeding slightly, holding a scroll and a fish.

-I need legal counsel. And maybe bird seed.

-What the hell did you do?

-I may have… started a seagull cult.

Shisui chokes. -I’m sorry—what kind of cult?-

-They follow my voice. They respect me. I give them crackers, they bring me bread. It’s very symbiotic. Except I might’ve sent them into the Daimyo’s summer banquet and now I’m technically wanted in three provinces.

He’s laughing so hard he’s crying, but also grabbing his gear. -You’re pure danger. An actual national threat. You know that?-

-Don’t romanticize me.

-Too late. You had me at ‘seagull cult’.

Itachi

“Sorry, gotta run. I fucked up and sold my soul to the fae. Don’t worry, I’ll weasel out of it.”

Itachi arrives at the gates of the compound only to see (Y/N) barefoot, eyes glowing slightly, and eating something from a crystal jar while sprinting.

-What did you do now.

Calm.

Deadpan.

Dread in his bones.

-Okay, listen. You know that weird circle of mushrooms in the woods?

-No.

-Right, I forgot you’re immune to whimsy. ANYWAY, I stepped in it. And then some very sparkly man in half a cloak asked if I wanted to learn the secrets of time. So I said yes. For fun.

Itachi inhales slowly.

-Turns out, that was a contract.

-Of course it was.

-But I think I can outsmart him. I’ve read enough fanfiction to weasel out of this if I can get his real name and reverse it during a blood moon.

-You sold your soul to a myth and your plan is to reverse it.

-Exactly! You get me.

He considers leaving the village and going full hermit.

She high-fives him mid-existential spiral.

[soapsbaby]

Hi! Can I request silly horny autocorrect texting headcanons with 141 and whoever you wish to add? I couldn't stop laughing at Soap's "baby gorilla" so I hope my request is okay. Thank you! 🧡

Love your request! I couldn't really come up with enough autocorrect headcanons so I made more general texting ones! Hope you enjoy anyway mwah!

Summary: 141 + König silly texting headcanons Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, König all in relation to the reader (some romantic, some friendly) Rating: slightest bit nsfw Word Count: 500ish

Simon

Simon texts you like he hates you all the time. One word answers, no emojis, no anything and then gets confused when you wonder whether he is mad at you. 

“Hey love, do you want me to get you something from the store while I’m there? love you!!” “no” “Simon, are you mad at me?” “no” “Promise?” “yes” 

He understands your point but he would rather be caught dead than use emojis

You have him saved in your phone with the ghost emoji as his name, he has you saved as your full legal name even though you’ve been dating for years now, just isn’t a big phone guy. 

Johnny

He types like he just slams his hand onto the keyboard and hopes for the best and there are more words with typos in his texts than there are ones without. Even autocorrect can’t save this man. 

He once, to your horror, told you about this “super cute rubber dick” he found at a store and how he’d bring it home to you so you’d have something to remember him by when he goes on missions. It took about an hour and him sending a picture until you realized he meant to say rubber duck. 

He’s been saved in your phone with the little duck emoji next to his name ever since.

Price

Old man texting all of the time. Does not understand memes (but laughs about them to make you happy), does not understand emojis and their meanings or any abbreviations. 

Is obsessed with the ability to send you gifs. You ask him a yes or no question? He won’t type it out, he’ll send you a gif of someone giving a thumbs up or of someone shaking their head.

If he gets the chance he will always prefer calling you over just texting.

Gaz

He makes typos all the damn time but god beware you ever mistype a single time because he will mock you for it until eternity. God beware the one time you told him you wanted to grab some food from “Windy’s” instead of “Wendy’s”. Now every time someone suggests to get takeout he’ll have this smug look on his face. “Oh, I think y/n would prefer Windy’s actually”.

Is the type to send you 6 minute voice memos about whatever he has been doing that day, get distracted halfway through and  then start the story over. 

Has like 7 hours of screen time on days that he isn’t at work. He’s the type to refuse to download tiktok and then scroll instagram reels for hours. 

König

He has German autocorrect on and it’s a mess. He can’t type to begin with but the autocorrect makes him borderline incoherent.

He is also a big user of emojis when it comes to texting you, he loves all of the smileys and hearts

���I am ging to the größere Story, do you nieder anything?” “Sorry what?” “Going to the Wal mart do you need any thing?” “No, thanks” “Ok Love you!!! 💕💞💖❤️”

Will send you pictures of everything that reminds him of you "Look at this flowers 😄💕"

[forhappysake]

Fluffy Surprise

Author's Note: Not proofread and the first fic I've written in like six months so read if you dareeee

Summary: Reader decides to give Spencer a present when he returns to their new home.

Warnings: People with cat allergies, beware! (?) Fluff ofc.

You moved into the new house two weeks ago.  Technically, you moved all your stuff into the new house two weeks ago. In boxes. Lots and lots of heavy boxes.

Spencer had come up with a system, labeling each box with the room it would go into at the new house. You had worked together to pack everything, label each box, and unload the boxes into your new home. 

And it seemed like the moment he set the last box down and you were ready to start setting the place up, his phone rang. 

Spencer had been gone for one week. 

The case was halfway across the country, somewhere in Santa Fe. You couldn’t exactly be mad at him for being gone, but unpacking and trying to organize everything without his input was a nightmare. You were finishing the last box in your shared bedroom, carefully placing his clothes on wooden hangers and organizing them in the closet, when your phone rang. 

Spencer’s name lit up the screen. You answered quickly. 

“Hi, Spence,” you said, plopping down on the freshly made bed.

You could tell how tired he was from the long pause he took before responding. “Hey, honey. How’s the unpacking?” he asked with a small sigh. 

You frowned to yourself, worried about how tired he sounded. “Oh, it’s alright. I’d like you to look through all the rooms when you get home, just to make sure everything is where it should be.” You let out a soft laugh, “I also had a hard time hanging up all the pictures and paintings without you, so we may have to straighten some of them up when you get back.” 

Another pause followed, though this time you could envision him nodding to himself. “We can do that,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to do it all by yourself. I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “It was fine, Spencer. Besides, I’m pretty sure chasing a serial killer or something gives you an excuse.” 

He sighed on the other end of the line. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. We caught the unsub this evening. I’m hoping to be home late this evening, but it probably won’t be until after you go to bed.”

You smiled, content with the thought of him coming home to your freshly decorated home. “Oh, I’ll be staying up. I want to see your reaction to the place.”

“Alright,” he said, clearly too tired to urge you to go to bed instead with a list of facts about the health benefits of a good night’s sleep. 

You sighed. “As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I’ve got about fifteen more boxes to go.” 

“I understand. I should probably get some work done, too. Files, reports, you know how it is,” his voice was barely a whisper now, the exhaustion beginning to get the better of him. 

“Don’t work too hard, Spence,” you cautioned. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I won’t. I love you too,” he answered. The end of his line promptly went dead.

You looked around the bedroom, discarding your phone on the bed. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something you could do to make Spencer’s return home a bit more special. 

You sat up and leaned over, furrowing your brow and resting your head in the palm of your hand as you tried to think of things Spencer liked. Of course, Spencer liked a lot of things. He liked sweet coffee, puzzles, and a classic novel in some foreign language you couldn’t comprehend. 

None of those things were overly special, in your mind. As you sat and wracked your brain, a thought finally came to you. 

One month ago, walking by a local cat cafe, Spencer spotted the most beautiful calico. She had fluffy hair, one black ear, one orange. Her little paws were white and she was so well mannered. Spencer and yourself had gone in immediately and he had spent your time inside doting on the calico, whose name, you learned, was Calypso. 

You bolted up from the bed and out into the living room, finding your purse sitting among the unpacked boxes. You shot out to the car, and without a second thought, drove the ten minutes to the cat cafe. 

You said a silent prayer that the cat was still available as you pulled into a parking space across the street. As if on cue, you looked up to see the same cat lounging lazily in the window sill, green eyes poised on you. 

The adoption process was quick, quicker than you anticipated. Fifty dollars later, you were on the road with Calypso in the passenger seat, sitting demurely in the carrier the shelter had provided you with to take her home in. 

On the way home you had to stop at PetSmart to pick up a litter box, a few toys, and a scratching post with the hope that your new furry friend would not decimate your new furniture. Calypso remained in the carrier, watching quietly from the shopping cart as you agonized over which treats to get. 

Soon enough, you were on your way home. The moment you walked through the front door, you set the carrier down and allowed Calypso to wander free. She was tentative at first, gently sniffing the floor and getting the feel for her new surroundings. However, after ten minutes, she perched herself on the kitchen counter, looking quite like the queen of her own castle. 

You took this chance to open her new toys and scatter them about the house, as well as find a secluded corner for her litterbox.

For the rest of the day, the cat watched you unpack boxes. Beady green eyes noting your movements until you disappeared from her sight. Occasionally, if you left the room for too long, you would turn to find that she had followed you. In these moments, you would stop to offer her a gentle petting and giggle as she flopped down on the floor, furry belly up to the sky. 

It was six hours after his phone call that Spencer arrived at home. 

2:19 a.m. was the time on your watch when you heard the lock turn and rose to greet him at the door. Calypso, seated in the corner of the room on a side table, perked her ears up at the new noise coming from the entrance. 

Spencer locked the door behind him and turned to face you, reaching out and pulling you in for a long hug. 

You rubbed your hands up and down his back. “Are you happy to be home?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shoulder. 

“You have no idea,” he said. He pulled away only to examine the living room. Spencer nodded in approval. “It looks really good in here. You did a great job.”

You smiled warmly, nerves settling in your stomach as you realized he’d not yet noticed the cat in the corner of the room, who was still watching him with suspicious eyes. 

“Spencer, I have to tell you something,” you said, wanting to explain yourself for doing something as impulsive as adopting a cat while he was away. 

His face suddenly became very serious. “What is it? Did something happen while I was gone? Are you alright?” 

The questions came quickly and you shook your head to reassure him. “No, Spencer, it’s nothing bad. Here, come look.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward until the two of you were standing behind your couch in the middle of the living room. 

“Look around,” you said. 

Spencer’s tired eyes traversed the room. You watched as they landed on paintings, the television, the clock, and nearly everything but the cat who sat entirely still in the corner. 

“I don’t understand,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did you make some major change I don’t know about? If you did, I’m sure that it’s f-”

At that moment Calypso jumped off the side table. The soft thump that accompanied her landing on the floor was enough to stop Spencer in his tracks. Finally, you watched as the feline caught his eye. 

“You didn’t,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. His reaction wasn’t telling you much, and you were afraid that he was not pleased. 

You started trying to explain yourself. “Well, I knew that you had a long week. I wanted to do something special. I know how much you enjoyed spending time with her at the cafe and now that we have the space I figured…”

You trailed off. In the time you had spoken, Calypso had crossed the room, climbed the couch, and began butting her head up against Spencer’s hand. Panic was setting in. Why wasn’t he reacting? 

Just when you were about to push him to say something, you looked up to see a large grin plastered on his face. Spencer gently wrapped his arms around the cat and picked her up, holding her close and petting in between her ears. 

“This is the most thoughtful present ever. I love her,” he said. His excitement reminded you of a little child and pulled at your heartstrings in a way that could have made you cry. 

You sighed in relief. “I’m so glad.” 

With Calypso still draped over one arm, Spencer reached out for you, pulling you to his side. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you so much. I love her. I love you,” he said, smile still evident on his face. 

“I love you too,” you said, turning to face Calypso, who looked all too content to be wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. 

“I think she’s trying to steal my man,” you joked, nudging Spencer on the side. 

Spencer laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that. My heart has room for two lovely ladies.”

[sturniololuvz]

Would you make one where Chris’s daughter is like 14 and she’s rlly competitive and for a video they do a bunch of challenges and she gets hurt but ignores it, cause she doesn’t like to lose, but then she came second to Chris, and she start to cry and laugh at the same time and acts like she’s mad at him, shes not seriously mad, make it funny 💕 btw your fics were always good but recently they been so good 😊

thank uuuu

“I’m Not Crying, You’re Cheating!”

⸻

“Okay, ready?” Nick clapped his hands and pointed at the camera. “We’re doing the Ultimate Family Challenge Showdown—winner gets bragging rights, and the loser has to do a TikTok dance with no rhythm.”

Chris smirked at you. “So you might wanna get that Renegade ready, princess.”

You scoffed, tugging your hair into a messy ponytail. “Dad, please. I literally beat you in Mario Kart blindfolded.”

Matt held up a whiteboard with everyone’s names. “Challenge one: obstacle course. Backyard edition. Let’s go.”

⸻

You were a beast. You crushed the obstacle course—vaulting over a lawn chair, crawling under a table, hopping over a pool float. But halfway through, you clipped your knee on a brick near the shed. You hissed quietly, glancing down.

Yep. Scraped, red, bleeding just a little. But it wasn’t that bad.

You stood up, shook it off, and charged through the rest of the course like nothing happened.

Chris had seen it, though.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, jogging over with a bottle of water as you plopped dramatically onto the grass.

“I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “Don’t distract me, I’m mentally prepping for the next round.”

He raised a brow. “You’re bleeding.”

You shrugged. “Battle scar. It’s fine. Real champions don’t cry over scratches.”

Matt, off to the side, whispered to Nick: “She’s definitely her dad’s kid.”

⸻

Challenge two: Water balloon dodgeball. You and Matt were instantly in an alliance until he betrayed you ten seconds in by pelting you in the shoulder.

“YOU LITTLE—”

“Sorry!” he shouted, laughing and running for cover.

You launched a balloon at him so hard it burst mid-air.

Chris was on fire. Literally hadn’t missed a throw. Every time you tried to catch him, he juked you with a stupid little dance move and yelled, “BOOM! Outta here!”

You were still in the top three when the round ended. But your knee was throbbing.

Still, you refused to quit.

⸻

Final round: Trivia + mini physical challenge combo. You and Chris were neck and neck.

“Last question!” Nick yelled. “Who is the tallest Sturniolo triplet—”

“Nick!” you and Chris shouted at the same time.

“Correct!” Nick laughed. “Now, final tie-breaker: three-legged race—Chris versus his clone.”

Chris grinned and held out his arm to you. “Let’s go, champ.”

You wrapped your arm around him, the two of you limping toward the finish line together like maniacs.

You were killing it—until your knee buckled a little at the end and slowed you down just enough for Chris to edge across first.

“AND THE WINNER IS… CHRIS!” Matt screamed, holding up his arm like he was at a wrestling match.

You stood there, sweaty, bruised, bleeding, and absolutely fuming.

You weren’t really mad… but you were also definitely crying and laughing at the same time.

“I hate you so much,” you said, voice wobbly as you shoved him with one hand, the other trying to wipe your face. “You cheated. You have… longer legs or something.”

Chris, red-faced and laughing, pulled you into a hug. “Oh my god, are you crying?”

“NO! I’M SWEATING FROM MY EYES!”

Nick, still filming, whispered to the camera: “She’s crying because she lost to her dad. She’s also bleeding. This is the most intense video we’ve ever done.”

You pushed away from Chris dramatically. “Don’t touch me. I’m mourning my dignity.”

Chris knelt down, inspecting your knee again. “You literally shredded your leg and kept going just so you wouldn’t lose.”

You sniffled and gave him a weak smile. “Was it worth it?”

He grinned. “Absolutely not. But you’re insane, and I love it.”

Matt jogged over with an ice pack and a Capri Sun. “Here. Champion recovery kit.”

You sipped dramatically from the straw. “I’m coming back stronger next time.”

Nick zoomed in on your face. “Any last words for the camera?”

You looked deadpan. “My dad’s a cheater. Subscribe for revenge.”

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

omg just read ur long sleeves fix it was sSOOOO GOOD! if u write part 2 i will be tuned in & reading ☝️☝️

i miss you, i'm sorry- r.c. x reader

part 2 of long sleeves!!!

OMGG IM SOO GLAD YOU LIKED IT <3

warnings: swearing angst (?) mention of drugs, rehab, and reader is so fucking codependent, like girl?? anyway, this is horrible y’all i cannot for the life of me write a happy ending so i tried my best 😞 can you tell i’m depressed LMAOOO? YALL SHES DEPRESSED TOO 😔 but seriously if i could make it happier hmu, i won’t get mad i promise. i’m new at this whole writing thing 🤠 not proofread cuz i wanted to post this already so tell me if there are big mistakes and my first language isn’t english so sorry if there are errors

disclaimer: the reader's depression is based on my own experiences, everybody is different and what i might go through isn't the same as what another person goes through. with that said, if you find any of these topics triggering, i understand! so, please always take care of yourself <3

ps: sorry this took so long, i've just been busy with school and my dad has been sick for a few days now so i haven't had time.

I'M ALSO HALFWAY DONE THROUGH THE FLASHBACKS FOR NO BODY, NO CRIME. i just haven't had the time fml. hopefully tomorrow 🤞. ok enough whining and into the story 🥁

want it, so i got it, did it, so it's done

making the bed started playing and the first line felt like a punch to the gut. i hated when life kicked you when you were already down.

i quickly changed to a cheery workout playlist that felt more mocking, in a sense, but decided it was better to not relate to the lyrics than listening to my despair sing back to me.

after that day in tannyhill, i'd decided to start running at night. in a silly way i thought that maybe running would burn away my pain in a healthy way. though how healthy running on barely any sleep, with nothing but depressive thoughts in my brain, was beyond me.

still, at least this way i felt like i was doing something. that i was taking action instead of moping. that doesn't make any sense. ugh, shut the fuck up. i really didn't know whose side i was on half the time.

the night sky was clear, making the stars wink at me as if they knew something i didn't. the sea breeze caressed my face, combing its fingers through my hair and drying away my tears.

running equated crying but by the time i got home i would be so exhausted that i couldn't even think. which was, of course, the ultimate goal. not think of him.

six months had passed and it didn't hurt any less. on the contrary, all i could think was how i'd abandoned him. probably when he needed me the most. two weeks after our breakup, sarah called me to tell me that rafe was terribly sick and they were taking him to the hospital. i'd debated whether i should tell her what had happened but she then said that she was aware of the situation and that i shouldn't go see him. she was only letting me know and, in a way, it felt like she was blaming me.

that was the last time i had contact with the camerons, town gossip and my mother becoming the only ties left between us. he'd gone to rehab and was apparently taking better care of himself, his family supporting him every step of the way.

fucking hypocrites. ward never cared when i told him about his son's addiction, instead saying that i should keep quiet, that everything would be okay. rose only cared about new shopping places to spend the family's money. sarah had started spending time with her new boyfriend and barely came home and wheezie was far too young.

so that left me. it had always been me, but when word got out of how bad rafe he was, they then played the card of ignorance and became the holy family.

i took a deep breath and slowed down to a jog, unaware of where the fuck i was. i looked at my surroundings for the first time and of course, i was in front of tannyhill. the gates were close but i could hear muffled voices on the other side. stepping closer to listen like the eavesdropper i was.

i looked through the bars of the gate, only to see him or well his back. he was with ward, who was lowering another suitcase to the ground. i frowned but i then heard his voice saying my name.

Ward turned his head sharply in his direction, "you are not seeing her again, alright? she's the one that got you into this mess in the first place." oh so the asshole blamed me.

he turned to face his dad and i gasped. his hair was buzzed and he looked older, healthier. he looked good but i couldn't help but feel like this was a different person entirely. i felt a slight pang in my chest because i'd been the one who had insisted on him leaving his hair longer and now he'd erased that too.

his voice interrumpted my thoughts, "dad, that is not true and you know it." why was he defending me? in a way what ward said was true. i'd left him alone that night.

his father stepped closer to him and put his hands on his son’s shoulders, “son, trust me when I tell you that it is best for you to stay away from her. don’t set yourself up for disappointment. We know where that led you.” Ward then kissed his forehead like one did to a child in a condescending manner.

Ward then picked up the suitcases left and turned to enter the house, leaving him standing there with a strange expression on his face. He lifted his gaze and somehow found mine, like they always did. I’d forgotten how we always sensed the other, no matter how much time had passed. My heartbeat sped up, causing me to quickly turn around and ran away from him as fast as I could.

“He is such a good father to those kids, especially Rafe.” Vanessa, my mother’s friend said, swooning over ward. Like god, he’s married, get a life.

Either way it seemed like every corner of this island is haunted. Ever since he’d come back as a stellar young man, all the women at the country club started obsessing over him, but more so his father. They practically held him as a saint and it only made my blood boil.

I felt my mothers gaze on me when his name was mentioned, noting the way I flinched and seemed particularly interested in the half eaten strawberries on my plate. They continued to chatter, causing me to tune them out and look at my surroundings for a distraction. Big mistake.

The doors had opened as if on cue, and there he was with a new found confidence that was unfamiliar to me. Before I could look away his eyes found mine, quieting everything around me, dèjá vu flooding my body. We looked at each other for what seemed an eternity until ward came up behind him, clapping his hand on his shoulder to turn him away from me. The colder version of his son’s eyes bore into mine in a warning. Stay away from him.

I looked back down at my plate no longer interested in my food. My eyes welled up and I knew that if i stayed a minute longer on this table I would start sobbing or worse.

“Mom? I’m not feeling well so I’m going home,” my voice quiet in her ear and she realized what I meant.

She nodded, “take the car, ok?”

“It’s ok, I can walk home.” I needed to clear my head and driving wasn’t the best idea.

“Are you sure?” The concern in her eyes made my heart wrench.

“I’m sure, mom. Thanks.” I stood up and voicing my goodbyes, leaving the club as fast as I could.

The sun was out and the sky was clear of clouds, a stark contrast of how I felt inside. I walked down the path, golf carts filled with kooks passing me by. All of them chattering about the next party or newest deal they had closed.

I kept walking and walking until I reached the boardwalk, which was thankfully empty. I sat down on the edge, swinging my feet over the water with the girl staring back at me and somehow looked as if she was drowning.

The wind carried the sound of footsteps behind me, my body tensing as his perfume arriving along with his shadow looming over me. The drowning girl hid away, leaving me alone. I almost begged her to take me with her.

“Why do you always run away?” my heart sank and then restarted when I heard his voice. For the first time in months, I heard the world clearly again. I hadn’t realized the power it had over me. Didn’t you?

Who was I kidding? He would always be my favorite person, everything about me was shaped by him. My favorite color was blue, my favorite smell was his cologne, my favorite taste were his lips, my favorite sound in the world was his voice, his body my favorite thing to touch. But most of all, his soul.

I took a deep breath before lifting my gaze to his. The knot on my throat made it hard to speak, “Who said I was running away?”

He scoffed before sitting down next to me. “I know you. Or at least I thought I did.” His tone sounded reproachful, his eyes searching my face. this time i really looked at him, gone were his red, glassy eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks but most importantly, the anger that had felt permanently etched into his features every time he looked at me.

the buzz cut now made his features more prominent, his body was stronger and not as skinny as when he’d been living off cocaine and god knew what else.

he looked more like the rafe i’d met forever ago, but there was still something that wasn’t quite there. his innocence. which wasn’t the one of a child, but more so the type of innocence that comes with ignorance. the type where you think you can get away with anything and that bad things only happen to somebody else, but never to you. no matter how bad you behave, you genuinely believed there would be no consequences.

and the boy in front of me knew how untrue that belief was.

“rafe, i—” the knot on my throat became worse, preventing me from talking further. great, now here come the waterworks!

i turned my face away so he couldn’t see my tears but it was too late.

he took hold of my face, “look at me.”

i tried to jerk away but it was no use. i had no other choice but to cry silently while he judged me.

“im going to talk and you’re going to listen, understood?” his voice now held a tone of authority i’d never heard before.

that’s kinda hot. dude, now is not the time.

i nodded because what the fuck was i supposed to do?

he turned so both of his hands held my face now. then he did something i wasn’t expecting, he leaned in and kissed my forehead for what felt like an eternity.

when he pulled away his gaze held mine, with a force stronger than any physical restraint i could possibly be held in.

the tears were flowing freely so i probably looked like a drowned cat at the moment.

“im not mad at you, ok? i hope you know that i never asked for you to not visit me. i know it was my dad that didn’t want you near me, but i swear that the only person i ever wanted by my side was you.

“i won’t deny that i was furious when you left me that night. i only got worse because i didn’t have anyone to stop me, or at least try to. i felt like you were the last person that still believed in me, who would always be beside me. and i took you for granted.” his words felt like a knife through my heart. i abandoned him.

“rafe, im sorry. i shouldn’t have left you like that. not when you needed me the most.” my words barely made sense but he somehow understood. he always did.

“no. you did the right thing. i hurt you, i told you that i hated you. when all you’d ever done for me was love me. i’m sorry, ok? if you hadn’t left then maybe i wouldn’t have gotten help.” he lowered his hands to his lap, my face burning where they had been resting.

“i know you tried to help me. that you talked to my dad about how i was and i know that he dismissed you. he only took me to the hospital because i overdosed and he didn’t want the island to know how ward cameron’s perfect son was a drug addict.” he laughed in a humorless manner, “hell, he even paid everyone at the hospital to keep quiet. that didn’t help much, frankly. gossip always finds its way.”

i wanted to say something but i could tell he wasn’t done so i waited until he felt ready.

this time his voice was hoarse, making me realize he wanted to cry too. i couldn’t take it anymore because nothing could hurt me more than seeing him in pain.

“rafe?” i murmured. he looked up with a broken expression causing me to wrap my arms around him. i felt him tense for a second before he hugged me back tightly.

my shirt got wet with our tears and we clung onto each other like a lifeline, with rafe repeating my name like a mantra. after a while, we pulled away and he held my face between his hands like before, only this time much gentler.

“i miss you, im sorry.”

“i miss you too, rafe.” i fell back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. we sat silently for a while before he spoke.

“can we at least be friends?” the question caught me by surprise.

“you’ve always been my best friend, rafe. but again i’m sorry for not being there, i should’ve done more.”

“no, you couldn’t have. it was the way things were supposed to be.”

he played with my hair like he used to, “you’ve always been my best friend too, kid.”

i punched him playfully at the name, making him chuckle. i pulled back to see his face and i wiped away the few tears that were left with my hand. he fell silent, leaning into my touch, “i love you, you know? not being close to you drove me insane. and it makes me so happy to see that you are healthy, at least physically.

“i want to help you in any way that i can and i want to be there from now on, if—“ his lips crushing onto mine cut me off before i could finish. his hands were in my hair, holding me in place as if afraid i’d run away again.

only i knew i wouldn’t. not this time. he groaned when i bit his lower lip, softly. he ran his tongue along mine before i let him in. i sighed into the kiss and pulled him impossibly closer. our lips explained more than any words that came out of them ever could. i separated from him to breathe and he only kept kissing my cheeks, jaw, neck until he reached my collarbone where he rested his head with quick, short breaths.

“i love you too,” he said. i touched his hair and ran my fingers over the short strands.

“i like your hair, by the way,” i murmured.

he laughed, pulling back. “really? i got it because i thought you would hate it.”

i rolled my eyes, “are you serious? either way, you look good with any haircut.”

“i wasn’t exactly planning on this to go like this. in my head, i was going to confront you and tell you all the ways i’d been miserable but that went away when i saw you that night by my house.”

“oh.”

he chuckled, “yeah. oh. anyway, i was telling my dad how i was going to ask why you never visited me and that’s why he said what you heard.

“i then realized it had been him and as if life liked playing tricks on me, there you were at the gate with a sad expression. yet before i could say anything you left running. i wanted to go after you but my dad called me inside and i didn’t want a fight that night. so i waited until i saw you today and when i was going to ask you to talk to me, again my dad came along. but then i saw you leave and i figured it was now or never, so i excused myself and he was so busy talking to the others at the table that he didn’t notice.”

i scoffed, “well, i’m guessing he noticed by now.”

he laughed, “yeah.”

we fell silent but i still had one more thing to ask, “how did you know i was here?” though i think i already knew the answer, after all i hadn’t exactly been surprised when he came. more like a sense of having your intuition confirmed.

“remember the night we met? i was alone and drunk, saying i was going for a night swim when i saw you sitting here alone. which should’ve alerted me that you were a weirdo but between your beauty and the alcohol, those thoughts went to shit.”

i blushed slightly, “i’m not a weirdo, jackass. i’d had a rough night.”

“i know, kid. i’m just messing with you and besides, i might’ve drowned that night if you hadn’t been here,” he smiled fondly but a bit sad as well.

“so, that makes me your knight in shining armor?” i grinned.

he scowled in mock annoyance, “how dare you mock a damsel in distress?”

i chuckled and felt a heavy weight lift off my chest. i felt lighter than i had in a while, and all because of him.

“my apologies, dear.”

he took my hand with a smile and brought it to his lips for a kiss, before placing it against his cheek.

“but to answer your question, we always find each other,” his words sinking in. that was true. we always did as if there was some invisible string tying him to me.

“you’re right. although you’re still not beating the stalker allegations,” i teased.

“ugh shut up, it was one time!” he groaned.

i burst out laughing, “you followed me for a whole day! that’s some stalker behavior type shit.”

“c’mon, kid. i wanted to give you your bracelet back and i didn’t know where you lived,” his eyes widening in a too innocent way which caused me to narrow mine.

“a bracelet that wasn’t even mine. plus you could’ve just given it to me when you first saw me,” i crossed my arms in front of my chest with a raised brow.

“oh c’mon, but where’s the fun in that?”

i pushed his shoulder, playfully only for him to laugh and hug me.

“i really just wanted to know if you were with someone else, so i wouldn’t make a fool of myself.” he whispered in my ear.

“you could’ve just asked,” i rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

“i wanted to be cool about it, ok? i had a reputation to maintain,” he joked but i knew he was a little serious. he’d been the epitome of a rich, arrogant, country club boy.

“i thought you were such an asshole.” who the fuck wears shades inside of a convenience store? you guessed it: rafe cameron.

he gasped in mock surprise, “you’re just saying that because you had the hots for me.”

“pfft, sure buddy. i think you’re projecting a little,” i laughed.

“i never said i didnt,” this time his tone was a little too serious making my heart beat faster.

“can we try this again?” he asked shyly.

i pondered for a moment before answering, “yes, but i want you to let me help you this time, ok?”

he moved his head to look me in the eye, “i promise.”

“ok, but wait. what about your father?” i’d somehow forgotten how he hated me now. or maybe always had.

“what about him? i’m an adult, i can make my own decisions. besides it’s none of his business. he’s the one that got us here in the first place.” his tone was now angry, which was rare when he spoke of his father. it was usually filled with frustration and sadness when it came to him. and i knew how important his father’s approval was to him.

“rafe, i don’t know. he’s still your father and i don’t want to come between you two,” i lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill.

he was silent for a moment before lifting my chin with his finger, frowning when he noticed my expression.

“you’re the love of my life. i’m not losing you again, ok? he’ll have to understand and i will talk to him. i’ll tell him how things really went down. plus, he isn’t innocent in any of this either.”

pursing my lips, i nodded. “ok” i didn’t really believe ward would be capable of changing his mind, but if it made rafe happy then i would try and compromise.

rafe searched for my eyes with a soft smile, “i love you.”

i returned the smile, “i love you too.”

he then got up to his feet, reaching his hand down to help me stand. after a few more kisses and a hug, he took me to his truck. we drove around with no particular destination in mind but with the sole purpose of being by ourselves without prying eyes and judging remarks.

i hoped deep down that i wasn’t making a mistake and that everything would be ok.

and as if on cue, “everything is going to be ok.” i turned my head in surprise at his words.

“don’t act so shocked, kid. i know you better than i know myself.” he then lifted my hand again and kissed it like he’d done on the boardwalk.

i chuckled and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. with the windows down, the ocean breeze, his hand drawing circles on the back of mine, and the soft music playing, i felt myself float away.

“sleep, angel. i love you.”

and then i woke up.

JK JK IT’S NOT A DREAM.

or is it? HEHEHEHEHE

ALSO WHY IS SHE SO CODEPENDENT??? LIKE GIRL STAND UP (says the one who wrote her 👯‍♀️)

anywayyyy, if you made it this far THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU!!!

please feel free to write comments or whatever, i love talking to you all 💞

and if you liked this check out my other stories!!

im currently writing a murder mystery kind of story and i only have two chapters for now, but i will make flashbacks with like text messages and diary entries and stuff. i’m trying to make it as if the reader is part of the investigation (I HOPE IM DOING A GOOD JOB) and i already have how i want the story to end but writing it is the hard part. like how long do i make it?? i don’t want to rush it but i really want to finish it because the characters take a mind of their own when i write. does that make sense? prob not lol

div creds!!- by @anitalenia

[h4nj1sunggg]

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 ( l. minho x h. jisung ) - 08.

it's lightly angst, be aware. words: 2k

Y/N’s heart pounded as you sat on the couch, Minho pacing in front of you and Jisung leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The tension in the room was suffocating, and the looks they were giving you made you want to disappear. This wasn’t how you wanted things to come out. Not like this.

“So, let me get this straight,” Minho began, his voice dangerously calm. “You were a fan. A STAY. And you didn’t think it was important to mention that? Even after we told you that we wanted to take you out for dates? Fuck y/n it's been two months. two.”

Your throat felt dry, and you struggled to find the right words. “It’s not like I was hiding it on purpose,” you said softly. “I just… didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think I was with you because of that. Also I would never think that you guys wanted to date, me, out of the blue.”

“Oh, really?” Jisung’s tone was sharp, and you flinched - never heard him sounding like that . “Because finding out from like this instead of you was so much better. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to hear that after months? We talked about this with Chan Hyung, asking for an opinion and he thought it was funny, by the way. Said we should’ve guessed by how you acted around us in the beginning.”

“I wasn’t acting any kind of way!” you protested, finally looking up at them. “I was nervous because I liked you both! Not because of… of your careers or your fame. That had nothing to do with it!”

Minho stopped pacing and fixed you with a cold stare. “Then why not just tell us? If it wasn’t a big deal, why keep it a secret? Do you know how it feels to think we can’t trust you?”

Those words hit harder than any raised voice could have. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I was scared,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t want you to think I was just some crazy fan trying to get close to you. I love you for who you are, not because you’re Minho and Jisung of Stray Kids.”

Jisung let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even know how hard it is to believe that right now?”

Minho’s expression softened slightly, but the hurt was still evident in his eyes. “y/n, we… we’re not mad because you were a fan. We’re mad because you didn’t trust us enough to tell us. We’ve shared everything with you. Our schedules, our struggles, our lives. And you kept this from us.”

"What do you expect me to do? 'hi yeah I'm your neighbour and I'm a fan' since the very started? we.. we wouldn't never be here like this now." You snap out, your thoughts and fears clear in your face.

Jisung steps from the doorframe, "you hid it from us for three fucking months y/n, that's fucked up."

Your tears finally spilled over, and you buried your face in your hands. “I’m sorry,” whispered. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to be honest without ruining everything.”

Jisung’s shoulders sagged, and he moves in the room, running a hand through his hair. “This feels like a betrayal, y/n. It’s going to take time for us to get past it.”

Minho sat down beside you, his voice quieter now. “We’re not saying this is the end. But if we’re going to move forward, there can’t be any more secrets. Understand?”

You nodded, wiping your tears. “I understand. And I promise, no more secrets. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Jisung sighed heavily and joined them on the couch. “We really like you baby. That’s why this hurts so much. But if we’re going to fix this, we need you to meet us halfway.”

You reached out, hesitating before taking both of their hands in your. “I’ll do better,” you said earnestly. “I’ll be better. Please, just don’t give up on me.”

Minho squeezed your hand, and Jisung gave you a small, tentative smile. The road to healing wouldn’t be easy, but at least they were willing to try.

The following days were filled with an awkward tension that neither Y/N nor the boys could ignore. You found yourself overthinking every word, every action, desperate not to mess up again. Meanwhile, Minho and Jisung were trying to act normal, but the cracks in their usual demeanour were evident.

One night, Jisung called for a meeting in their living room. You felt you stomach churn when you step out your apartment to get into theirs, the fact that they live next door was a knife at double slice, Minho opens the door and you make your way to the couch like you always do. Between them, unsure of what to expect.

“We’ve been talking,” Jisung began, glancing at Minho. “And we think it might help if we… reset. Start fresh. No baggage, no lingering doubts.”

Minho nodded. “But that means being honest from here on out. About everything. If there’s anything else you’ve been holding back, now is the time to tell us.”

You swallowed hard, your palms sweating. “I’ve told you everything. There’s nothing else, I promise. except that I watch edits of you most of the time.” You try to light up the situation, blushing at your own words.

Minho studied you for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Then we’ll do our part to move on too.”

“But it’s going to take time,” Jisung added. “We need to rebuild that trust. Together.”

You nodded, a small flicker of hope igniting in your chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Minho gave you a faint smile. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think you were worth it.”

Jisung reached out and ruffled your hair lightly. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? We’ve got this.”

For the first time in days, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay. They weren’t perfect, but they were willing to fight for their relationship—and that was all you could ask for.

The sun streamed through the curtains on a crisp Saturday morning, and you found yourself pulled from your thoughts by the sound of Minho’s voice - remembering what he said after their small argument a couple days ago.

“We’re going out Saturday,” he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. “No work, no stress, no rehashing over this. Just fun.”

You blinked at him from your spot on the couch, your brow furrowing. “Fun?” you echoed, a bit skeptically.

Minho’s lips curved into his signature playful smirk. “You remember what that is, right? Come on, a smile. Jisung, stop eating cereal in your pajamas and come over here!”

That morning you were in their apartment already, wearing a beautiful long dress, waiting for your two dates to hurry and get out of that apartment, as soon as possible.

Within the hour, the three were in Minho’s car, the tension that had hung over their heads for days gradually lifting as the city skyline gave way to colorful signs and flashing lights. When Minho pulled into the parking lot of a retro arcade, you couldn’t help but smile.

“This looks promising,” Jisung said, rubbing his hands together as if already planning his domination of every game inside.

“Don’t embarrass yourself,” Minho shot back, leading the way inside.

The arcade was a cacophony of sounds and colors, with kids and adults alike crowded around machines that beeped and buzzed. You felt a pang of nostalgia as you took it all in. It had been years since you’d stepped foot in a place like this.

Jisung’s competitive side emerged almost immediately. He made a beeline for the claw machines, gesturing for you and Minho to watch. “Prepare to be amazed,” he declared, inserting a coin and maneuvering the joystick with exaggerated precision.

You tried to stifle your laughter as the claw wobbled, barely grasping the edge of a plush toy before letting it fall. Jisung’s face was a picture of disbelief.

“Smooth,” Minho said dryly, stepping up to the machine. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

To everyone’s surprise, Minho’s first attempt resulted in a perfectly executed grab. The claw lifted a stuffed cat and deposited it into the prize chute with mechanical efficiency. Minho retrieved the plushie and handed it to you with a small smile.

“Here. Something to remind you of me,” he said.

You cradled the plushie to your chest, grinning. “Cheesy.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Jisung muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

You smirks, "you are just jealous that he didn't won anything for you too." Jisung gasps as he steps close, whispering to your ear like it was a secret just for you, "he gives me his dick every night, that a win-win." Your laugh fills the arcade making Minho's ears red in embarrassment of what he just overheard, "Jisung!"

The trio spent the rest of the day hopping from one machine to another. Minho turned out to be a sharpshooter at the basketball hoops, while Jisung redeemed himself by crushing it at Dance Dance Revolution, dragging you into a duet that left them both breathless and laughing.

As the hours passed, the weight that had settled over them in recent weeks began to lift. By the time they left the arcade, their arms were full of tickets and prizes—including a ridiculously oversized stuffed panda Jisung had insisted on winning for you after his earlier failure.

Back home, they collapsed onto the couch in a heap, their laughter gradually fading into comfortable silence. Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder - an old habit of his, his voice soft.

“I’m glad we did this,” he said. “It feels good to just… be us again.”

Minho nodded, stretching out beside them. “We’re not there yet, but we’re getting closer. And that’s enough for now.”

You glanced between the two of them, your heart swelling with gratitude and hope. You tucked the stuffed cat closer to you and smiled. “It’s more than enough.”

Jisung chuckle as he rest his chin on top of your shoulder, "so now, are we watching your saved edits on TikTok about Minsung? I'm really curious."

A blush spread over your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling to avoid any grins from the two guys, "you did not checked my TikTok account."

"in fact we did." Minho giggled.

You moved up from your laying position with a bigger blush, "W-We?"

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “What? You left your phone open on the coffee table. We’re only human.”

Jisung nodded, his grin growing. “And it’s not every day you find out your girlfriend has a whole collection of edits dedicated to us. I mean, you even liked the one where Minho winked during the concert.”

Girlfriend. He said girlfriend but you tried to not overreact even if his words made your stomach filled with butterflies. You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“Believe it,” Minho said, leaning closer. “By the way, who made that edit where I’m flipping my hair? It was kind of… iconic.”

Jisung leaned against you, feigning a dramatic pout. “And what about the one where I’m rapping? You replayed it, like, ten times.”

“I hate both of you,” you mumbled into your hands, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

“No, you love us,” Jisung teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “And clearly, you’re our biggest fan.”

Minho smirked, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Next time, just show us the edits. We’ll even help you pick your favourites.”

You peeked through your fingers, narrowing your eyes at them. “You two are the worst.”

“The worst at being the best,” Jisung quipped, earning a groan from you and a snort from Minho.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist )  . ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist roommates )  .

taglist ! @estella-novella @fackeraccount @ihrtlix @hanji-coffee

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 12: Into The Depths

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: If you aren't cut out to be part of the group, then you’ll just have to go it alone.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, also physical violence, swearing, guilt, arguing, self-doubt, blood, injury, near-drowning

a/n: the warnings on this chapter may tell you that there's quite a lot in store... and after you all loved last week's found family wholesomeness last week, I really hope you're not mad😅

You were beginning to think Kuyang had had it very lucky. The current ‘lab’ you occupied looked more like a bunker to you.

No windows in sight, you instead had to stare at an array of screens displaying the outside world. Waiting.

You moved your fingers idly, blue static crackling between each one. Though you trained your eyes attentively on the ‘view’ beyond the heavy concrete wall, you couldn’t suppress the itch. You knew you weren’t the only one. You had trained, you could fight, but still all you were able to do was react to Bolt’s every whim with no way to anticipate him.

That was Namjoon’s department, though.

Only a tap of your toes belied your otherwise calm, level gaze as you scanned the images.

At the very least, you were here in advance this time. No rushing halfway across the city on an emergency call. This lab housed some kind of weapon, the ‘shield rifle’, and though you had seen it only in pictures, you had to admit it looked a useful piece of kit. The forcefield spheres it fired could be used both for attack and defence. Something you wanted kept on your side. So, for whatever connection had tipped you off this time, you tried to be grateful.

That is, if the threat turned out to be real after all.

A dart of movement made you blink not a second later, half convinced it had been a figment of your restless mind. But no. It was like they had been waiting for your doubt to begin so they could laugh at you.

Hastily regathering your focus, more figures crept into the frame, confirming what you had first seen. A hungry smirk quirked your mouth as you lifted your receiver to your lips.

“I can see four people outside exit C,” you told them, “don’t think they’ve spotted us, though.”

“Copy that. Anyone else got movement?” Jin asked swiftly after.

“Nothing yet.” Jimin.

“Hm, Yoongi, can you get around to Y/N?” Namjoon instructed, “I’m not seeing any other action yet. But stay alert.”

“On the way,” Yoongi said simply.

Beside the screens was a thick door, barely distinguishable from the blank wall. Eager eyes glancing towards it, your feet couldn’t resist a step closer to where action soon promised to bloom.

Were they really that clueless? You almost felt sorry for Bolt’s warriors as you saw them sneak closer, oblivious to the fact they were already unders surveillance, directly in your line of sight. One of them crouched, producing some kind of tool.

You rolled your neck. So they were going to break down the door? They sure were making it simple for you; maybe you could be persuaded to go easy on them.

“You seeing this?” you asked the receiver.

“You ready?” was Namjoon’s response.

Before you could respond, the screens went dark. Smart move – or it would be, if you hadn’t already clocked them.

Yoongi couldn’t be far away. Another confident step took you towards the door, your powers now thrumming in your veins.

Sure enough, the door juddered, before rising from the ground. A bracing breath and you were ready, on your toes. The intruders didn’t fire yet, though. You would have to let them come for you.

“Wait!” a cry crackled through the radio on your hip. Cursing, you snatched at it, hoping your position hadn’t been given away.

“There’s someone else-”

No sooner had you time to frown than a cacophonous crash sounded, somewhere distantly on your left. Even through all the layers of concrete, it rumbled, stirring horror low in your chest.

Backing away several paces, your eyes darted urgently between the slowly raising doorway and the far end of the corridor, beyond which something bigger had just happened.

What was that? The question was on your lips without you thinking it, the only clear thing among a rush of panic that brought your friends’ faces spinning through your mind. Your hallway suddenly felt so isolated, its darkness stretching out either side of you.

But the words never passed your lips.

The moment your receiver was at your mouth, it exploded with noise again.

“Shit-” you had never heard Hope curse before, “Monsoon’s here.”

Your eyes widened. That was a name you had yet to make an acquaintance with. But you knew it alright. Monsoon was a title you had only ever read side-by-side with Bolt in the papers.

“Y/N,” Namjoon’s decisive tone cut through your reeling thoughts, “deal with the first lot. Everyone else, get to exit A and get this fucker out.”

So you stalked forwards, impatiently lifting one arm to finish the door’s ascent. As your powers met the resistance of the concrete, you gritted your teeth and pushed through, lightning gushing from your palm to haul the door aside, leaving you framed in the doorway.

The people from earlier backed away from the door as you finally faced them.

They clutched familiar weapons. The one closest to your shifted their gun defensively, drawing your attention.

“Please, let’s not,” you said flatly, “I have better things to be doing. Though I’m sure you know that.”

It crossed your mind that this lot had likely been a purposeful distraction. Yet more of Bolt’s fodder.

One of them shot a nervous glance to their neighbour. That was the only movement, making you scowl, eyes rolling.

“That yours?” you asked blithely, tilting your head to a van a short way to the right.

You watched with dark amusement as their heads followed your direction. And then your patience snapped. Letting loose a burst of blue power, an extension of you, it closed like a fist around the van and tossed it skywards with an ease that made you smile.

It arced over the group, suspended, for a moment.

Then you brought it slamming back to earth, right at their feet. Close enough to force them scrambling back, away from you. The force cracked the road, blue sparks skittering through trenches carved from impact.

You glared at them through the blue trails of light leaping and sparking from the wrecked vehicle.

They ran.

Feet still planted in the same spot, you waited just long enough to be sure they were really going for good, before you caved to what you had been itching for this whole time.

Turning on your heel, you raced back inside. Yoongi had probably already passed you by, hidden safely until he needed to be. A restless force took you tearing through the place alone towards the main entrance, where Monsoon must have attacked. Looked like they weren’t going for subtlety with this one.

Another abandoned doorway was a blur as you raced on. Another corner and noise reached your ears. Another step, and you were forced to a skidding halt.

Up ahead, a door slammed shut.

Hurriedly shooting a lightning blast at the solid surface, you were poised to run straight through – but nothing moved.

Behind it, you could hear crashes, a brief roar like flames, a rush like waves. When something collided directly with the other side of the door, you slammed your palms against it in frustration. You needed to get in there, help your team!

The communications had dissolved, an incomprehensible exchange blaring back and forth through your radio. Some instructions from Jin, cut off by a cry by Jimin, before a breathless Hope only got half a sentence out. Clearly called back by the fray. You couldn’t bear to be so close, yet helpless.

Giving it one more try, you watched your powers glide fruitlessly around the doorway’s seams, fizzling out.

Grabbing at the receiver, you called into it.

“I can’t get through! How do I open this thing?!”

Namjoon’s voice of reason never answered you. No-one answered you.

Just the echoing collisions of things you couldn’t see, beyond this unfeeling barrier. You were panting harder than ever despite having stopped running. Were they ok?

You needed to get in there.

Breathing out harshly, you stepped back and squared your shoulders. With the strength of your worry filling you, your impatience to help, you summoned as much as you could muster-

And fired.

Jungkook’s familiar shouts from the training room steeled your mind even more. You had honed this power with him, and now you could use it.

The shock of blue connected this time, illuminated your face and the corridor like welding fire as you concentrated it on your obstacle. You felt the kickback but leaned into it, only digging your heels in harder.

For one moment, the electricity grew taught between you and the door, straining like it was solid-

Then it gave way.

The door smashed inwards. Without a second’s hesitation, you strode forwards into the carnage laid out before you.

The space you had entered earlier was in ruins, chunks of the wall lying on the ground in rippling pools of water, electricals hanging, frayed and sparking, from the ceiling. Daylight was thrown inside from the wide open main door, though the smaller ones around the space still lay shut. Oddly, there was none of the purple fire that your group usually left in your wake.

You were about to find out why.

You had quickly scoped out the figures dotted throughout the space: some running, some firing, some just staggering up from the ground. And only one you didn’t recognise.

The hero wore white, starkly standing out against the battered bunker.

In the opposite corner, a fierce plume of purple flame roared to life, silhouetting the stranger. The next instant, the man struck, a torrent of water following his movements and drenching the fire to ash.

V was leaping out of its path, caught mid-air by the blurred form of Hobi. V was dropped to safety on a pile of rubble in a blink. Then Hope kicked off the wall in a one-eighty, landing with one hand on the ground in front on Monsoon.

Then Hoseok charged. Monsoon staggered and dodged, struggling to track the man who ran circles around him. Suddenly, the hero held his arms out, stumbling even more cluelessly. In your hurry towards the action, you spotted a cloud of shadow hovering at his eyes. Yoongi.

Monsoon stopped.

Then the tsunami hit.

Throwing his arms out, Monsoon summoned a ring of water that frothed with white. It hurtled straight for you – straight for everyone – knocking you back in a winding blow. Hobi was struck from the air, even his lightning pace unable to outrun the wall of waves.

Your back never even hit the ground. Churning water turned you over, and you found yourself stumbling to your feet, running in the total opposite direction.

Gasping from the unexpected impact, you collided with something else.

Someone.

Hands grasped your upper arms firmly, keeping you on your feet as you blinked away the slew of water. You looked up into the face of Jungkook.

Brows drawn, he scanned you swiftly. Then he was pulling you back, both of you retreating from Monsoon, who stood taller in the centre once more. His mask gleamed white again, eyes now rid of darkness.

Misguidedly, your eyes hunted for Yoongi. Of course, you didn’t find him. You hoped him being invisible meant he was still alive in here somewhere.

Jungkook’s hands loosened, making you glance back to him. His eyes had left you, focussed somewhere distant.

“What the…?”

Following his look, words stopped in your throat too.

The small doors, the ones which led inside, to the very lab you were defending… were sliding open.

All of them.

“What… ppening…?” your waterlogged radio spit out panicked fragments of Jin’s voice, “I locked these-”

And as you noticed, Monsoon was not far behind.

Hobi was first off the mark, already in front of the man. He dodged one canon-like column of water, successfully knocking Monsoon to the side, but he wasn’t so lucky the second time. Hurrying to support him, a boulder flew overhead, and you were running.

Jungkook’s hand at your back urged you on before you disconnected, running in step towards the enemy.

Jimin’s projectile found its mark, landing solidly in the doorway Monsoon headed for, but the man simply lifted his palms and a flood carried it away before the next could pile up. And the same flood gathered around the hero, carrying him on faster as he deflected another blow from Hope.

Behind him, you plunged forwards into ankle-high water which only deepened the closer you got to the man himself.

A sharp golden streak caught Monsoon unawares. Falling sideways, off-course, he was slammed against the wall beside the opening. Jungkook leapt into the air a moment later, Monsoon’s next shot falling between the two of you.

While you dived out of its path onto the ground, Jungkook took to the air and fired again, again.

But Monsoon was prepared now he had his assailant in sight. He caught each blow with a splash of water in mid-air. His retaliation avenged him, a cannon-like blast of water sending Jungkook crashing against the wall.

Wincing, you watched him slide to the ground clutching an arm. The way his face twisted, teeth bared with pain, had fire bubbling anew within you.

Something else stole your attention first.

Pushing yourself to sit, your ear came close to your receiver where it had fallen. Almost unheard in the chaos of the fight, Jin was trying to figure out the cause of the error.

“I’ve lost the system… ‘s offline.. disturbance started- section C… one of the door- shorted-”

A door shorted the system? In… section C?

Realisation hit you in slow motion, and it was all too fast. Washing over you, heat prickled menacingly, spreading across your skin. A trapdoor opened up for your stomach to fall through, robbing you of more breath than the impact of Monsoon’s freak wave.

It had been you.

Finally struggling to his feet and unopposed, Monsoon dragged himself through the empty doorway. You should stop him. You should-

Numb, you looked up. It wasn’t the bright white of Monsoon that grabbed your eyes. It was another gaze, looking right back at you through the wall of water.

The wave Monsoon had created to tide him through your attacks sunk slowly, seeping back into shallow puddles around where you lay. As it deflated, Jungkook’s eyes came into sharper focus. His pain forgotten, still slumped against the far wall, he suddenly seemed so much closer than he was. You had seen that glare before; why did it drive such a burning poker through your chest now?

Your own guilt pushed it deeper. His eyes only reflected the piercing regret now surging through you.

The world tilted unnaturally as you forced your legs beneath you. Your own breaths thundered through your skull as you twisted, feet leaden as you tried to catch sight of your friends, counting the shapes of bodies… Losing count…

Then you were at Jungkook’s side. On your knees.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, voice far away, “are you-?”

He didn’t wait for you to finish.

Shoving away your outstretched hand, he was on his feet. You rose too, steps falling away from him with rising dread.

“That was- that was you?! You were watching over section C, right? …Right?”

You flinched at his raised voice, breathing coming faster.

“Hey,” a sharp snap cut him off.

Whipping around, you found Hope standing just a pace away. His eyes fell over both of you. Cold.

They lingered on you for only a second, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you, before they rested on Monsoon’s escape path.

“We should be chasing after him.”

But he got no further.

All the lights shut off at once, plunging the space into near-darkness. Only fading daylight from the entrance behind you maintained your sight. The lot of you jumped.

Head snapping up, you whirled around, searching the space. When you faced the outside doorway, the cause made itself known.

Marching inside was Namjoon. His footsteps echoed like gunshots in the silence after the battle.

You physically felt your heart jolting lower with every step he took. Tension radiated from your leader. Instinct had you stepping back as he passed, fists clenched, and disappeared through the door.

You gulped when a flash of red came from the darkness beyond.

Shame burned your eyes. At least the darkness could hide that.

Again, you turned, slower this time. There was V climbing down from the rubble, Jimin taking his hand to help him. You still didn’t see Yoongi, but perhaps that was by design. His absence would have been noted by now if not one of you could see him.

You swallowed harder, dipping your head. You had thought you could help… Instead, you had caused all this? Swayed an already losing battle in favour of the enemy?

No wonder Yoongi wouldn’t grace your sight right now. And Hobi didn’t even want to look at you. And Jungkook-

Jungkook’s rage screamed loud enough through his eyes. You thought you had been used to this, but all of a sudden you couldn’t stomach the thought of the venom in his gaze.

It reminded you of the time you hadn’t known him. When he had been all brick walls and disdain… and you had just watched those barriers slam back up in real time.

It shouldn’t be the thing that stuck in your throat.

He shouldn’t be the one you desperately wanted to take it back for.

No.

Taking a firm breath in through your nose, you stamped on the feeling. It couldn’t make you feel any shittier, tossing it on the steaming pile of shame and ugly humiliation already festering in your gut.

A new flash made you blink back to the outside world. Namjoon stood in front of you all.

“He’s gone… with the shield rifle. The doors are open all the way to the other side.”

When his eyes landed on you, you wished your powers would burn you up from the inside.

That journey home was probably the most you had ever understood Jungkook’s need to lose himself in the gym in moments of frustration.

The silence of the car locked you in, even your halting breaths feeling like too much movement. Your presence felt like a neon sign, advertising your monumental failure to your friends, drawing their eyes without asking for it. If only the seat could swallow you up, render you truly invisible.

And while you sat still, your insides only rioted more.

So the moment you got home, you broke away from the subdued group heading for the living room. And they let you. Even as you walked away, you couldn’t relax, every step controlled. You wished your footsteps would be quiet.

Your footfalls rang out faster and faster on the staircase as you finally began to give in to your bottled-up impatience to move.

Sights set on the entrance to the gym, you already ached for the burn in your muscles. Any hope of dodging the storm of guilt currently bombarding you full-force. By now, your pace was ready to burst into a run, eyes desperately fixed on the approaching door-

A hand caught your arm, roughly wheeling you around.

Before you even noticed it was Jungkook, you had ripped your arm back from his grasp. Trying to reign in your breathing, you shot him a blazing look.

“Jungkook, please leave me alone-”

“You think you can just walk away from this? What was that, back there?”

You breathed in harshly, unprepared for his exclamation. Turning your face to glare hard at the floor, you ground your teeth together.

“I’m not walking away. Just… can it wait?” Your question came out flat.

His brows only drew tighter, disgust rapidly etching into his features.

“Just like you could wait to come barging in to fight Monsoon?” his voice was cutting, “you wanted a piece of the action then! But now you’re the one who gets to decide when we deal with this? It affects all of us.”

Face pinching, you flinched back from his relentless rain of accusations.

With what you told yourself was a steadying breath, in and out, you tried to swallow down your rising irritation.

“I didn’t know it would fry the circuit-”

“What did you think our power does again?!” Jungkook cut you off, incredulous, throwing his arms out.

Shutting your mouth with a snap, you breathed through your nose. Maybe both of you needed to cool off. It wasn’t like you had wanted this to happen!

And yet he was back to treating you like a child, like he was above you-

Shaking his head, a scowl took over Jungkook’s mouth. His glare slipped back into angry disdain so easily, and with a scoff he backed away.

“I knew I was right about you.”

For a terrifying second, the space between you teetered in silence so steep you wondered if you could hear the shaking of your tense muscles. And then-

Something within you snapped.

“What exactly is your problem?” you yelled, not allowing him to turn his back on you, eyes snapping up and ready to meet his fire this time. “Tell me! Ever since I got here you’ve hated me, wanted me gone. Even though the others never-”

Jungkook responded in kind without blinking, eyes hardening and foot stepping sharply forwards.

“They are my brothers,” he spat, “but unlike them, I’m not ready to trust just anyone who walks through the door with powers-”

“I had no other choice!” you cried, arms flying out.

“And that’s supposed to make it better?”

Jungkook pressed closer with the force of his shouting.

You gritted your teeth, stood your ground.

“Listen: I am not Bolt. Have I not proved that to you?”

“The only thing you’ve proved is that we can’t rely on you!”

“It was a mistake, Jungkook! People make mistakes!”

“We can’t afford to make mistakes!” his anger slid then into something darker, lowering in volume but losing no ferocity. “They are all I have in this world.”

“And you don’t think that’s the same for me?!”

His anger boiled over again in an instant.

“You haven’t gone through what we have! You don’t know what it’s like out there for people like us!” Now toe-to-toe, he jabbed a finger at your chest. “You were picked up straight away when you got powers, and we all held your hand through it! How can I really know we’re fighting for the same cause?”

“So that’s it, huh? I have to suffer in order for you to trust me?” you scoffed.

A heavier frown flickered along Jungkook’s brow, but when his mouth opened it was only to scowl. Had you finally rendered him speechless?

Eyes locked, barely inches apart, you both breathed heavily. Not one breaking away. Not one backing down. Jungkook’s jaw ticked. A similar spasm struck you, only it was a searing swipe of hurt through your chest.

Stirring up the power that dwelt there.

The crackle of lightning was audible, albeit only a single strand of static that escaped your palm. Reflected back in Jungkook’s eyes, your own bright flash of blue.

As if it had burnt him, he jerked away, severing eye contact.

Hurriedly putting distance between you, he looked back up once more. Gone was the hardened glare. Face slack, his expression was wide open with something so raw…

In one motion, the frown shifted his features once more. With a final, chilling look, he turned stiffly and stalked away. The change had almost been quick enough to convince you you never saw him look so wounded just a moment before.

His steps rang out on the stairs, and were gone.

Like a string had been cut, you deflated, finally allowing yourself a few reeling steps back.

You paused there. Staring hollowly ahead, you never turned back to the gym. All your previous intentions of escape had done just that and fled.

A shaky breath transformed into an embarrassing sniff. Gritting your teeth, you did your best to swallow down the sob that tried to break from your throat.

Breaths coming choppily, your eyes tracked the path Jungkook had just walked away from you. Your lips couldn’t resist the harsh downwards tug as his words fed the storm of your thoughts.

There was no brushing off Jungkook’s comments, like you had often done in spats past. There was no hand on your shoulder telling you not to mind him – no, that would have to come from one of the people you had just put in danger. Whose plans you had ruined…

Jungkook may be the only one up to saying it, but they must all agree with him by now.

His words hadn’t bounced off a shield this time. They had split your flesh and buried deep inside you, writhing in the current of regret dragging you off your feet.

He didn’t think you were on the same side? You had thought you had earned their trust, but now you couldn’t blame them for their doubt in you, after such a monumental fuck-up.

You twisted your fingers into a fist to prevent your hand from clutching your head. This was no time for self-pity. You weren’t the one who deserved comfort here. It was you who should be making things right.

With a shallow breath, you rolled your shoulders. Chose to dig your feet in against the stream of ugly emotions.

Some workout wouldn’t fix this.

You would.

At that promise, the waters settled around you, content with being given direction at last. The resolution may have granted a tenuous peace, the mess of shame still swirling below the surface, but at least you could breathe easier. At least you could move your feet, a new ease to your movements at the prospect of redeeming this catastrophe.

The odd sensation of walking a high wire remained nonetheless. Controlling each breath, aware not to make a sound, you cracked open the door at the head of the stairs.

Silence met you.

If you were lucky, the boys may have dispersed already. If they had, though, you had no guarantee as to how long they would stay away. It wasn’t like them to totally split. Knowing them the way you did, you had seen the way they got through things together, sticking by each other’s side after the hardships just as much as the victories.

A bitter weight settled in your heart. You had hoped to be part of that. Their care as a group was the reason you fought, the very people you had now jeopardised.

Stepping into the hallway, the guilt never left you behind, but you forced it to the back of your mind as you emerged, scanning the place. You heard a shower running on your way down the hall. It made sense that they would be recovering, regrouping.

A quick sweep of the living space showed it bare.

Or so you thought. One more step and your breath caught in your throat, catching the top of a head which had previously been obscured by sofa cushions.

Freezing as if you had been caught in headlights, it took you a moment to realise he was asleep. It was V, a faint line over his brows as he dozed. You glanced once more around you; if V was here, it wasn’t like Jimin to leave him alone, particularly in a vulnerable state like this.

You suddenly had to fight down a lump in your throat at the thought that you could be seen as the threat.

Which was why you had to do this; prove yourself anew.

No one was here. You had to move.

Marching fast as you dared, you made it soundlessly to the stairs. You had seen Jin and Jungkook on separate occasions getting the keys, and swiped one from the inconspicuous row of hooks below the counter.

You had never been the one with the keys, but you found you had watched the others long enough to know by instinct the button to open the front door. The instant you could squeeze through the gap, you closed it right behind you again.

Jogging on light feet, you made it to the smallest car they kept here. Another press of the keys showed you had managed to pick the right key, and you slid into the driver’s seat.

A flex of your fingers on the steering wheel, and you were set. You gave yourself no time to think before pulling away. All you would find was an array of thoughts competing for the best way to torment you.

It had been your short-sightedness, selfish impatience, that had brought Bolt one step closer to what he wanted. You had single-handedly put everyone in danger.

And all you had wanted to do this entire time was help.

Sparse rain greeted you outside, swiping heavy droplets against the windows.

The city passed in a blur, each grey road forgotten the moment you turned to the next. You were too stuck in your own mind. Maybe it should have bothered you how much of Jungkook you found there. But with your memories taking you on a wild goose chase – after some vague hope of seeing where it all went wrong, if he had seen the truth about you from the beginning – questioning why his words suddenly meant so much to you wasn’t something you had room to entertain.

Everything he said replayed as you neared your destination.

You haven’t gone through what we have.

What had he meant by that? The rest was clear enough, unpleasant as it was. But this? A brand new stake of guilt twisted at the dawning realisation. The boys all knew how you had gained your powers; they had all been there. But as for the rest of them…

Had you really been so blind? You hadn’t thought of it as easy, but when you walked into this life it had been laid out for you… Had you been thoughtless? Did you take your new friends for granted?

Of course you had wondered… How they had come to be there, how they had ended up together.

You tried to cling onto some hope in the form of, well, Hope, and of course V, who had each wanted to tell you their stories. But now you hardly felt like you had deserved their candidness. Why had they even told you? Had it been out of pity? That conversation had followed yet another of your fuckups... The thought made you wince, and your doubts were accompanied by a sharp needle of guilt for having them in the first place.

Such warring thoughts about your friends only propeled the spiral further. Perhaps you had assumed you would be let in on other stories when the time came. But now you saw you had never been close enough to know, to be deigned worthy. Your arrogance sickened you.

Tearing yourself forcefully from yet another well of self-depreciation, you blinked through the windscreen.

Hurriedly indicating, you pulled off. This was it. The docks showed themselves at the end of the road, and you pulled over in the shadow of a building.

Though the car stopped, you held onto the wheel for another moment, breathing deeply. If your worries had almost made you miss your turning, you knew you ought to be more careful with what you were about to do. Being off the ball could be disastrous.

Attacking any of the top dogs was off the table for bangtan for obvious reasons. Didn’t stop them having tabs on where they hung out. You had clocked it on a map Jin had shown you when he was explaining the various movements they were planning with their partners.

To be fair, you probably could have guessed by yourself that Monsoon would be by the biggest supply of water in town.

Okay, make this as simple as possible. Worrying about the boys wouldn’t help you make it up to them. Probably the opposite was true, in fact.

Stepping from the car, you shut the door softly. Stuck to the shadows as you moved towards the river, not flinching despite the rain against your face.

The river was high in its banks, a great mass roiling downstream, churned by wind you hadn’t previously noticed. Now that you reached the exposed plain of the docks, it pulled at your hair ferociously.

You didn’t mind. It covered you better, no longer afraid to make a sound as you moved, eyes constantly scanning.

Monsoon’s lair was close.

The light was fading fast, the blue of twilight well-established already. This time of day, it seemed the docks were mostly empty. Darting past a couple of warehouses, you saw no signs to direct you to your target, but were not dissuaded.

You used a stack of shipping containers ahead as your shield to sneak up to the river’s edge. Peering over the railings, you squinted at what little you could see of the concrete bank. Black water crashed at the edges, occasional spray joining the raindrops beating thinly at your skin.

Gripping tighter to the cold metal of the railing, you leaned further out. This time, you were rewarded. A little way up, a blue light glistened just above the waves, out of line with the white ones lining the docks’ edge.

Daring to let a smile lift your mouth, you crept nearer.

When you were almost on top of it, a darker patch of shadow fell away in the path, revealing a stairwell. The unassuming concrete steps would have passed you by at any other time, but it was exactly what you were hunting for now.

You hurried down.

It seemed you had hit the jackpot. What simple workman’s entrance would have such a high-tech control panel to get in?

Stepping up to it, you saw no sign of a camera, but that was no guarantee. Placing your hand over the panel, you covered the blue light glowing from the screen. This shouldn’t be too hard for you… But the similar situation mere hours ago had your heart racing a beat too fast in your chest. Aside from the others, you had to prove to yourself that you had the control needed.

Tentatively engaging your powers, you extended just enough to blow out this lock. The blue of the screen was joined by your own light, seeping between your fingers, and then both died.

You hoped you had been quick enough in your caution, not allowed Monsoon time to be alerted of your intrusion.

With the lock disarmed, the door fell open a crack. Just waiting for you.

It slid seamlessly open at your touch. The hallway beyond was dark, but it was clearly the right direction. While the construction was plain as the docks outside, flat walls leading you on, this was not built with identical concrete.

Summoning a ball of glowing light to guide you on, the brightness reflected startlingly back at you. From walls made of marble.

Dimming the light in your palm, you blinked in surprise for a moment. Eyebrows raised, you shook your head and pressed on. Monsoon was really in the lap of luxury here. What more did he want to achieve by stealing weapons?

If you were in a situation to build an entrance hall out of marble, you reckoned you would be calling it quits on any kind of work.

The impression was only elevated when you reached the end of the corridor. Peering around the next door, you were forced to expand your light source again. The room it lit up was vast and lavish. Set into the far wall was a huge window, giving you a view of the rippling water beyond. So you were below the river level here.

Stepping further inside, your blue light glimmered back at you from the depths.

You barely turned your eye over the living space as you stepped on a plush rug between stately sofas. What you were here for was right in front of you.

Laid out before the window, a clear cabinet sat full of various devices. Monsoon kept these weapons like trophies.

Near the bottom, you spied the shield gun he had secured today. You should have taken it and gone, right then.

But as you cast your eyes upwards, they stuck on the gun that took up pride of place. White casing held a clear, spherical centre. Needles of pale lightning darted inside. It froze you where you stood, a paralysing memory of cold and dread crashing over you for a second too long.

“Who the hell are you?”

You weren’t proud of the way you jumped. You instantly shut off your blue light, a second later being dazzled by white flooding the space as the main light was flicked on.

Your eyes were quick to find him. In the corner near the vast window, emerging from another entrance in this impressive lair, was Monsoon. Presumably, in any case. He had no mask anymore, but who else could it be?

Instinct kicking in, you dived for the thing you had come for. One hand stretched out for the shield gun, the other raising to fire a panicked bolt his way.

It never hit.

Monsoon swept a hand forward. Before you could gasp, a globe of water had engulfed you, taking your feet from under you.

Your reaction never got further than a thought. Trying to lash out, your body didn’t respond. Through your watery prison, you saw Monsoon step forwards, lifting his arm to raise you higher from the ground in the bubble he had created – the bubble trapping your electricity in here with you. The current buzzing in the water was your own, you could feel it. But you couldn’t control it. Couldn’t move at all.

“A Bolt wannabe, are you?” his voice reached you, muffled by the water in your ears.

You could only glare back, terror clenching your muscles almost as much as the electric current. A burning ache crept agonisingly from your lungs.

“Did you forget those powers could hurt you, too?”

Through dark splotches rapidly dimming your vision, all you saw were cold, mirthful eyes. Your entire body screamed for air, but your mind was clouding. Vague images assaulted you, of a storm whirling around you as you fell, of blue cutting through the night. You were trapped in a nightmare, your own powers the ones attacking you again, not the thing you had grown to love, understand and use.

Faux sympathy brought Monsoon’s face into a mocking pout, but even the rage it stirred in you couldn’t hold a flame to the flood pushing you farther from consciousness-

Your bones collided with the floor. You were already coughing and gasping before the pain from your knees and head began to bloom.

Choking in blissful air, you forced your shuddering arms to raise you from the ground.

Glaring up at Monsoon, you brought your arm forward again. Your enraged powers were more than ready to strike him down.

In one step, the man stamped down on the wrist stretched towards him. Pressed down harder as his eyes burned into yours.

“You may have powers,” he spoke, ignoring the way you winced as your bone ground against the floor, “but we can still cook you from the inside if we try for long enough.”

Lunging forwards, he released your arm only to grasp your collar. Dragging you up, he left your weakened legs scrabbling on the ground. Then he sent a fist flying hard into your face.

The impact flung you backwards, the weapons cabinet rattling. One temple connected with a solid shelf, pain biting at your forehead. Hands finding the surface, you clung to it, felt blood slick beneath your fingers at the same moment as the warm liquid dripped into your eye.

Striding to close the distance once more, Monsoon towered over you. He rested one shoulder on the cabinet and gave a cocky tilt of his head.

“What is it you were after, hm?” his eyes dragged teasingly along the shelves, “I rather fancy these myself-”

You could only scramble backwards. It wasn’t enough to escape the blade he flung your way, and another. One struck your cheek, one your collar. Inches higher and it could have slit your throat.

Two metal stars clattered to the ground around you while you panted. How were you going to get out of this? Your powers didn’t mix with Monsoon’s.

Pulling your legs out of the way, you did the first thing you thought of. With your good arm, you fired again. Sending a sharp, but powerful, burst, you hit a different mark. Instead of going for Monsoon, you sent the cabinet crashing down over him.

With a shout, he was pushed to the floor among a rain of metal and glass. Your eyes followed one particular weapon as it rolled away, white light mercifully still contained.

Desperately wobbling to your feet, you fell against an armchair, clinging to it to stay upright while the world swam around you. You pushed off it towards a sofa, hands grabbing the back to support you as you staggered on towards the door you had entered through.

A scraping filled the air. Monsoon, throwing off the shelves that crushed him.

Before you could dive for the exit, a winding impact struck you, sending you headfirst over the couch. The wave dispersed, leaving you gasping again, this time on the sodden rug.

A fearful look over your shoulder showed Monsoon looming behind the sofa.

“Get out of my house,” he spat.

And then, as if in reverse, the water puddled around you was sucked inwards. Collecting into a rippling sphere, it carried you helplessly. This time, you could move your limbs, but the thrashing was useless against the force that sent you flying towards the window.

Screwing your eyes shut, you waited for the impact of shattering glass around you.

It never came.

That was no window. The water hadn’t been held back by glass.

Instead, you were plunged straight into the depths. Bitingly cold torrents enveloped you. The bright light of Monsoon’s abode flew from your sight as the raging river swept you downstream in its currents.

Your flailing arms fought a losing battle. The water consumed every bit of strength you exerted, and pushed back harder, flinging you over until you lost your bearings completely in the blinding darkness.

Raging in your ears, the river stretched out black below you and above you… although you couldn’t tell which was which. You were at the mercy of the current thrusting you further into the numbing depths, the water which battered at you stinging in your wounds.

Sapped of movement, the most you could do was bite down and try not to breathe. Your lungs burned; it was only a matter of time until involuntary instinct would take over, flood you from the inside.

The churning water flipped you over again. With the sickening lurch of your stomach, it took too long for your numb skin to register the air that slapped you round the face.

The waves had spat you out at the exact right moment. You hauled air into your lungs in a shuddering gasp, arms desperately pushing down at the waves around you in an attempt to keep your head above them.

There was no getting out of this with your powers, even if you could summon them in your current state. As a wave swiped at your face, sending you back under for a horrifying second, you longed for the ease of simply flying away with a boost from your powers.

Or even… someone blazing down from the sky in a shower of gold, always there when you needed him in battle.

But there was no one to save you. Twisting your head, every snatch of vision between the waves showed nothing but a lonely expanse of water so much bigger than you. The row of lights at the bank was too far away, glinting temptingly out of reach.

Another swell caught you, pushing your head under. Its power swamping you, you were rolled over, the cold clawing at you and forcing its way into your mouth. Each moment you surfaced was cut short, barely enough for a breath before the flow overwhelmed you once more. You couldn't even feel the rain which beat against your face.

As the storm tossed and toyed with you, your rapidly fogging mind only filled with your friends. Their care, their laughter, their loyalty. How you wished you could have been enough.

More waves, more snatches of air stolen away. You wondered if your body would have given out already had you not had powers to bolster your endurance, prolong the nightmare.

A harder impact set off a ringing in your ears.

That hadn’t been water.

Waves already tangled around you again, but the smallest spark of hope had you fighting to the surface. Your arm hit against something solid, the force of the water dragging you against it tearing grazes into your skin.

Somehow you had ended up at the edge, where the river slammed at its banks. Currents tugged in every direction as you scrabbled to grasp something, anything, of the concrete walling you in.

For one terrifying instant, a rebounding swell overwhelmed you, forcing your fingertips away from land-

The next surge crashed around your ears, flinging you back the other way. Upwards, it scaled the wall and you made your last push.

Colliding with brick and metal, you threw your arms around a pole. As the hungry water sucked at your limbs, clawing to drag you down again, you clung to that railing with all the strength you had left.

The water fell away.

Releasing your grip, you collapsed onto the stone. Ignorant to everything beyond your own heartbeat, you were ignorant to footsteps rapidly firing closer. You only closed your eyes. And finally breathed.

Thank you for reading!💜💜

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[erinsturniolo]

i don’t want you like a best friend - M.S

summary: bestfriend!matt and “bestfriend”!reader at a party with unknown desires for eachother.

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, lots of smut, shower sex, swearing, underage drinking, very few uses of y/n (I tried to put it in here no times but I couldn’t!! I’m so sorry omgggg I hate it too dw 😭)

may make you get mad: “that’s not fitting.” “I’ll make it.” I know. I hate this too but his dick is like seven inches and tbh any girl would be lucky to have all seven inches regardless of height. also I’m new to smut writing so I may suck at explaining shit and have horrid grammar. I myself don’t know what (juno) position they are in but I’m too lazy to fix it so.. finally, “pretty sounds” cringy af but I used moan and groan and idk what else there is

if u wanna take inspo from this (thank you!) idc as long as you don’t copy my entire thing. but if your under 18 fuck off, no smut for you 👎

word count: idfk?? find out yourself xx

(this isn’t gonna be realistic, I’ve never been to a party or hooked up with anyone before so 😭 I feel a lot of us here on Tumblr haven’t. we’re saving ourselves for Matt 😭😭😭)

(this is my first time writing a smut fanfic, first sturniolo fanfic and first Tumblr fanfic! sorry it might be bad, not proofread. just trying out writing instead of reading!)

(english is NOT my first language. if I spelled a word wrong or something DONT BLAME ME, LOVE MADE ME CRAZY. (iykyk))

I ACCIDENTALLY CHANGED IT TO I INSTEAD OF YOU HALFWAY THROUGH OH MY GOD IM SO FUCKING SORRY IM DUMB AF

You were just hanging out with one of your friends, gossiping about the latest rumors around your school when you got an invite to the biggest party of the year. Thrown by the one and only sturniolo triplets, they were known for throwing the most lavish parties and sneaking in drinks for everyone to have. Their parties also earned the reputation of the place to hook up. You and the triplets were best friends, but you were especially close with Matt. You secretly have a desire for Matt that no one knows, not even your best friends. When you saw the invitation you squealed. “f/n, we need to go shopping for dresses, right now!” And so you did, you went to every store when you found the perfect dress. A short dress with a black dress part and gold straps and trim. It was perfect, but you could only imagine Matt taking it off.

you and your friend arrived at the part around 9:00pm. The lights are on and music is blasting, even from outside. You and f/n park at the end of the 50-ish line of cars. You finally step into the party and are immediately greeted with booming music and a drink to start, you take the drink and glance around at everyone. The party had only started 30 minutes ago but people were already on the dance floor. You scanned the crowd specifically looking for one person. Matt. “Girl who are you looking for? You’ve been to these parties before, come on!” F/n yells over the loud music, yanking your arm and entering the dance floor. You started having sips out of your drink, and sat down at the kitchen island. “Hey! I’ve been looking for you for so long, where were you?” You turn around to see Matt, in a leather jacket and pants, you glance up and down at his body. Shocked on how good he looks. “oh, my friend just pulled me to the dance floor, I was looking for you too!” You giggle, while your hands begin to shake trying to maintain eye contact and not dick contact. “you? on the dance floor?” Matt teased “don’t even right now.” you tried to hide your grin as he kept teasing and laughing at you.

the time with Matt went by so fast. Your conversation lasted around an hour before you both realized how long you had been talking, and the party was livelier than ever, you and Matt had been pulled back onto the dance floor. The amount of people in the crowd was making your body be thrown around like you were in a washing machine. You finally caught up to matt, who was significantly taller, making it easier for him to get through. “Jesus Christ, it’s like a mosh pit in there.” You laughed “that’s because it is a mosh pit.” Matt informed you. You glanced up at Matt when you heard yelling from behind, you turned around to see Nick and Chris fighting for approximately the 1989th time. “No, cause-!” Chris was cut off by Matt’s yell for them to stop. “whatever, I’m gonna go get some a drink, you guys want any?” I said in annoyance by the mosh-pit-like crowd. “nah- jinx!”Nick and Chris said at once, then continued to fight over who said “jinx” first. “I’ll come, I’ll have to protect you from the crowd or else you’ll get trampled.” Matt chuckled. I chuckled back, but what he didn’t know is that that sentence sent butterflies through my stomach.

I opened the cabinet to grab another bottle of liquor and was only a centimetre away from the bottle, even in my tippy toes. Matt was on his phone, and I didn’t want to bother him, so I just tried to get it myself. I groaned in annoyance at the fact I couldn’t grab it myself, so I climbed onto the counter. I finally caught the bottle and was about to climb down when my foot slipped and I fell, but I didn’t fall. someone caught me?

Matt. motherfucking matthew sturniolo caught me, he is my best friend but still. I was in his arms looking up into his eyes like a dumb puppy. I was so stunned that I didn’t even realize the entire bottle of liquor emptied onto my dress. “shit- sorry.” I say as I try to stand up and clean myself off with the nearby paper towels. “no it’s fine, I should have helped you-“ Matt tries to say “no no Matt it’s okay, my fault entirely. how dumb did I have to be to climb up there?” I apologize, Matt chuckles “we don’t have much paper towels, let’s get you cleaned up” Matt says as he grabs my arm and pulls me toward the bathroom. “here you go-“ Matt says as he hands me a handful of toilet paper. with any other person I would be fine with the setting, but not with Matt. being in the bathroom with Matt probably seemed normal to everyone except me. it seemed like a fanfiction, a dream. I’m so lost in thinking about how romantic it is that he - MATTHEW STURNIOLO is in the bathroom with me, that I didn’t even think to look up. But much to my surprise Matt was staring right at my eyes. “oh-sorry. your eyes are just really pretty, whoever is your boyfriend in the future would be lucky to have you” Matt stutters, I freeze. did Matt just say, I’m pretty? “o-oh! thank you Matt” I smile blushing like a ripe-RIPE tomato. Matt giggles, I glance over and I realize that 10 seconds ago I swear the bathroom door was open, but now it’s closed. I look back at matt and he must have saw the lust in my eyes, and I saw the lust in his. I could tell that look, even if I haven’t hooked up with anybody before. the look of lust, wait no- love.

I stutter “m-Matt? why’d you close the do-“ “you know y/n.” Matt says while putting his hand on my cheek. I lean into him, he leans into me. and in that moment, I kiss him. I know, me, kissing Matt? but no, it’s happening. right now, I close my eyes and just stop thinking. it feels like both me and Matt are stunned at what we’re doing, but it both feels magical. He pulls me in and turns so my back is leaning against the sink counter. we let go of the kiss and Matt moves his hand toward my hip, and placing the other on my shoulder, fiddling with my dress strap. I place one hand on the back of his neck and one on his belt. I lean in again but Matt leans into my neck and starts playfully kissing it. I let out a small groan and start fidgeting with his belt. “matt-“ I try to say but matt cuts me off. “shh” matt whispers, and pulls my strap of my dress to the side of my shoulder. I fidget with Matt’s belt, but what I didn’t know is that it comes undone easily, and his pants are only held up by his belt. all of a sudden Matt’s belt crashes onto the floor and so does his pants. “fuck sorry Matt” I whisper. Matt pulls away and suggests me “how about I make us even? hmm?” I nod my head as he pulls a strap of my dress off, then the other. I put my hand under his shirt and slowly lift his shirt. Next thing I know my dress is on the ground and Matt’s shirt and pants are on the ground and Matt is turning on the shower.

Matt steps into the shower and throws his boxers off and out of the shower, I undress slowly but get pulled into the shower by Matt, still in my underwear. “I couldn’t wait.” Matt says seductively. I glance down and freeze. “like what you see?” Matt chuckles “that is not fitting.” I speak “I’ll make it” Matt whispers. he places his hands on my underwear and glides it off grinning. Matt grabs my hips and pins me against the foggy, cool glass. I place my hands on his checks and start kissing him. Matt pulls me closer and bites my lip, making me groan. He takes a hand off my hip and onto his dick, and starts teasing me with his dick, I can’t help but moan. My lips let go from his as I bite my lip. “there you go, keep making those pretty sounds for me.” Matt moans as he slides his length into my pussy, I practically scream at how good it feels, my head flings back in pleasure as he wraps my legs around him. He holds my body and bounces it to reach maximum pleasure, with each bounce, he goes faster. And so do my moans. I’m moaning as fast as I can and as loud as I need, I’m positive other people can hear but I don’t care. I can feel the knot in my stomach start to build up. “m-Matt g-gonna c-“ I stutter before creaming all over Matt’s veiny, throbbing dick. Screaming at how good it feels. Matt keeps me bouncing on his dick, just waiting for himself to cum. He starts moaning and I knew what was about to come (see what I did there 🤭)”shit y/n I’m about to co-“ Matt gets interrupted by my moans of his cum filling my walls, painting them white. “oh my fuck- I” I stutter before Matt lifts me off his dick and onto the ground. I land on my knees, panting like a dog. “oh my god, that felt so good.” I moan, Matt puts his hand on my chin and pulls my face towards him. “just wait for the car.”

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 20 shiver | words: 864

yeah, so, someone said they would like a part 2 to this so i wrote it. i don’t know if it’s any good but here it is, hope y’all like it (also sorry for all the mistakes, english still isn’t my first language)

next part 👀

“He just stayed over for dinner, Sirius. It was a ‘thank you’ for helping me with Gigi” James repeated for what felt like a hundredth time.

“Oh, I know your ‘thank yous’. Don’t try to fool me, I haven’t met you yesterday” Sirius laughed through the phone. James was surprised his best friend didn’t get mad at him for spending the evening with said friend’s brother.

He was expecting the man to throw a tantrum about it, that’s why he called Moony and asked for Sirius as soon as Regulus left his flat with the dog.

“You know, it’s kind of your fault. Why would you leave your phone to your brother? If you hadn’t done that nothing would have happened!”

“So, something did happen?” James heard the cheeky smile even though he couldn't see it and simply groaned at the response he received. Sirius could be his best friend, who James loved dearly, but he could also piss him off like nobody else.

“Don’t change the subject, just- why did he have your phone? I really was terrified with the whole situation and as if it wasn’t enough I almost got a heart attack because you really didn’t have your phone and I didn’t know who got my address, and if they wouldn’t ki-“

“Okay, James, breathe” he heard from the other side. He did just that. “Now, stop spiralling. He had my phone, because I left it there on my way to the venue. He was fucking with you, you know how he is” Sirius explained calmly and James felt a little better. But then “While we’re on the topic of fucking-“

“I’m hanging up” his bestie just barked a laugh at that.

“Yeah, Reggie’s here anyways, I have to pester him now. Bye, love ya” and with that Sirius ended the call.

James breathed heavily and slumped into the couch. Excluding the Gigi incident, the evening was really nice - he and Regulus prepared the butter chicken together (using tofu instead of chicken since Reg doesn’t eat meat). They laughed at what the vet said about them not being good uncles to the dog and talked about their lives. James knew from Sirius that Regulus went to art school but still listened eagerly as the younger man talked about his latest project.

“You should come to the opening. I think you’ll like it” Regulus said midway through his dish. He also smirked when James started choking on his rice. After a moment he calmed down, whipping his face with a napkin.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll try to make it. When is it exactly?” he asked, pretending like nothing happened just seconds ago. Regulus laughed at him, sounding so very sweet again, and James tried to hide the small smile and blush that appeared on his face.

“Next Friday at 8” the black-haired man replied simply, going back to his meal. He looked so soft and peaceful sitting at the table, the older man felt a need to squish him tightly, because what the fuck - how can someone look so pretty?

With James’ internal crisis and Regulus’ quiet chewing they fell into a comfortable silence. It was new to James - usually, while eating with his parents and friends, it was very loud, everyone talking and laughing all the time. But it was nice - to just sit and enjoy a dinner together.

When they were finished Regulus took Gigi and said he’ll drop her off at Sirius’. James just thanked him again, walking the other man down the hall. When Regulus was out, he turned over his shoulder and smiled warmly.

“See you next Friday” he said and walked to the elevator. James didn’t even have a chance to reply as the younger man disappeared behind the metal door.

He took another deep breath and went to his bathroom, taking a quick shower and preparing to go to sleep. He was halfway through his skincare routine when his phone beeped. As always, he didn’t bother checking it while he’s having his alone time, but as soon as he laid his head on the pillow he opened the unread message.

Unknown

Sirius is fucking mad

Whatever he says to you - do NOT believe him

He’s delusional, I swear

It’s Regulus, by the way

James felt a pleasant shiver going down his spine. Regulus didn’t ask for his numer, but apparently took it from Sirius’ phone. Sneaky little thing he was.

James

didnt expect you to be not only a murderer but also a thief

and i know your brothers mad ive known him half my life

Reg

I’m not a thief, I’m THE thief

If I managed to steal your number maybe I’ll be able to steal some of your time ;)))

THAT MESSAGE WAS FILLED WITH SARCASM

James laughed at that.

James

yeah sure

you can steal as much of my time as you want

THAT MESSAGE WAS ABSOLUTELY NOT FILLED WITH SARCASM

The reply didn’t come right away. He could see the three dots appearing and disappearing every now and then, though. And when it finally came, James just smiled at it.

Reg

You’re being cheesy, please don’t act like that at the opening

[thejessyami]

Fumbling (Keane X Anon)

“Stay still” She said in a whisper  as she tries to remove the button that is now stuck on her hair. Keane who was leaning on the wall for support looks at her with hazy eyes as she fumbles with her hair, removing it carefully from the button of his shirt. “I.. can’t..” was the words that came out from his mouth. Anon glared at him, clearly annoyed. They wouldn’t be in this predicament if this man had not drunk too much.

“Stay still you idiot, every time you move, you’re pulling my hair, and it hurts.” “Okay” he replied not wanting to hurt her more. “ But why are we whispering?” He asked.

Anon sighed in exasperation as she carefully untangled her hair from the button. "Because," she whispered, leaning closer, "we’re in the middle of a very crowded place, and the last thing I need is everyone noticing that I’m stuck to you like this."

Keane’s head tilted slightly as if trying to make sense of the situation, his breath warm against her cheek. "But we're not hiding," he mumbled, his drunken state making his voice louder than a whisper.

"Keane!" Anon hissed as she landed a light smack at his chest. "Shh, you’re going to get us even more attention!" She glanced around nervously, trying to see if anyone had noticed them. They were tucked in a corner of the room, but it wouldn’t take much for someone to spot the awkward scene unfolding. She tugged gently, trying to free her hair, but winced as the button snagged again.

How did they even get into this situation? Well Anon was looking for Milo to hand over the script, but as she scanned the room for him, Keane who was clearly drunk came from behind and put his arms around her shoulders, and whispered to her ear “Hey, Ms. Script Writer, what cha doing here all alone?” she turned around in shock and her hair got snagged on the buttons of his shirt. Thus, this predicament they are facing.

Keane’s brows furrowed in confusion as if the gravity of the situation had finally dawned on him. "Oh... I’m sorry," he said, his voice lowering in response to her frustration. He glanced at her hair, caught on his shirt and then back at her. "Should I... just rip the button off?"

Anon shot him with an incredulous look. "No way, you're not ruining your shirt for this, And I’m also not paying for damages." she muttered, her fingers working carefully. "Just stay still. I almost have it. And seriously, why are you this drunk already? We’re only halfway through the party."

Her exasperation was clear, the edge in her voice sharp, but Keane just blinked at her, trying to process her words through the fog of alcohol. He shrugged lazily, his lips pulling into a lopsided grin. "It's a celebration, right?" he slurred, swaying slightly. "Thought I’d... y’know... start early.. and I won’t charge you”

Anon huffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, well, starting early doesn’t mean you have to finish the entire bar by yourself." She tugged a little more, feeling her hair starting to slip free. "If you weren't already falling over, this would be easier."

But despite her frustration, there was a certain softness in her tone that Keane, in his hazy state, couldn’t help but notice. His gaze drifted from her fingers working meticulously to her face, taking in the furrow of her brow, the faint blush creeping up her cheeks, and the way her lips pressed together in focus.

"You know," he slurred, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "you’re kind of cute when you’re mad."

Anon froze, her fingers pausing in their careful work as she glared up at him. "Keane," she said in a dangerously quiet voice, "if you don’t stop talking, I will smack you in the face, and make sure to knock you out!.”

His eyes widened in mock fear, but a chuckle escaped him. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands slightly in surrender, which only caused Anon to tug at her hair harder as the button pulled tighter.

"Ow! Keane!" she snapped, her patience running thin.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He bit his lip, trying to keep still this time.

With one last careful maneuver, Anon finally freed her hair, and she let out a victorious sigh, stepping back and rubbing the sore spot on her scalp. "Finally," she muttered, glaring up at Keane, who gave her a sheepish grin.

Anon crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look “Don’t smile at me like that mister! Stop drinking,” she demanded, Keane’s hand shoot up defensively in a mock, though his balance wobbled even more. “Alright, alright I’ll stop drinking now” his grin still lingering despite her scolding, he then reached for her head at the same spot where the hair was tugging earlier.

Anon cheeks started warming up as she felt his big hand gently massaging her head. She playfully pushed his hand away and said in exasperation "Whatever. You’re hopeless," she muttered, turning away quickly to hide the flush creeping up her cheeks. "Just... try to stay out of trouble, alright?"

Keane chuckled softly behind her, the sound warmer than before. "No promises," he called after her, his voice teasing but gentler now, as if he was more aware of how his presence affected her.

________________________________________________

Authors Note:

Marami akong time! CHARZ!,

Namiss ko lang Asawa ko! CHARIZ. XD

Keane and Milo belongs to @ask-emilz-de-philz.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - March 28

extra friend anon (new...ish), A very confused anon, 20 times anon, family dynamics anon (tw: death), germany/france anon (new)

Extra Friend Anon

Extra friend anon (not new but it’s whatever, i’m not usually anonymous in your asks anymore,, he/they)

So like, i’m an extra friend in a friend group, i got introduced by this one girl…

Well, i feel attracted to one of those friends, and I’m not sure how he feels about me, and i can’t say it’s mutual because i’m afraid that would be a bit delusional.

But i do understand that it might be the same for him, and that he just has his own stuff to deal with. How do i confess that i don’t want it to just be physical attraction but that i really want more than that? My last relationship ended because i cared so much about romance while my ex gf seemed to only be physically attracted to me. Which physical attraction is a part of a relationship to me as well, but i am more of a romantic type of person at heart…

Anyway how do i confess that i don’t want this to just be another friends with benefits type of situation? I really care about the friend group a lot. It feels like we shouldn’t be together but i really do want to be with him. I’m not even sure if he likes guys or not and even then I don’t know if he would have those same feelings for me.

Hi!

I think the best thing to do is to be straightforward. Because the thing is, even if he doesn't want the same, it's much better to know that NOW, at the beginning, then halfway through the relationship. Like you implied, if you don't know for sure, it can fuck with the friend group and also it's just not want you want and could be hurtful. It's much better to risk that small amount of hurt now than a whole lot of hurt later.

_________

A very confused anon

You asked me to tell you what i think, so here’s a check in:

fist and foremost: your answer helped me alot, and i reaaaaally appreciate you for everything you do!! Your response made me feel a little more comfortable with just being, ya know? But at the same time i know my feels arent “normal” so i kinda wanna know what i can call myself, even if its not a set sexuality (which it probably wont be)

Also, i started going through the resource you have in your intro post for aro/ace labels. Aaaaand i cant find one. I haven’t read through the full thing, but i’ve been thinking and theres been some discoveries.

Do you know if the aro spectrum also includes liking people differently than normal or is it just lack of romantic attraction in various levels?

— a very confused anon (aVCa) —

I think the thing you need to remember is that feeling aren't normal or abnormal. They just...are. Who's to say that your feelings are any less normal than anyone else's?

Can you explain what you mean by differently than normal? I guess in my head, romantic and sexual attraction is just a spectrum, it's not a 'normal' or 'not normal.'

Also, here's a website with some definitions about ace/aro identities!

___________

20 times anon

20 times anon here

hi, cas, how are you today?

i have a little update about the situation. me and three of my other friends decided to tell her mom about everything. we are all afraid she’s going to be upset with us, but her mom reassured that she wouldn’t say it was us whole told. we just all want her to get better and hope that she gets the help she needs.

when i had a chat with her (the best friend) about it the day prior, she told me she didnt want to get better. it concerned me, and that’s why i decided to tell an adult. thank you so so much for the advice because i really needed it.

Hi!

I think you made the right call here and it sounds like her mom is a decent person- like she won't just get mad, she'll try to help. Remember, even if your friend gets mad, you did what you did out of love and concern, and you made the right decision <3

_______________

Family Dynamics anon (tw death)

I am so, so sorry to hear about your grandma. Deaths that are more shocking like that can be so hard. Remember to be gentle to yourself and give yourself time to grieve. Whatever you're feeling, it's valid, and I'm here if you want to tell me about her or how you're feeling <3

________

Germany/France anon

Hi hon <3 I know you said i didn't have to reply but I just wanted to let you know that I'm here whenever you need to vent. I don't know if it makes you feel better or worse, but, living in the US, I completely understand how you're feeling. It's scary and difficult, but we'll make it through somehow <3

Sending so much love

[pilot-boi]

“Hey, uh, Jaune? I, um. This is, uh… I’m sorry for yelling at you back in the Ever After, and I—…I get it if, um. If you don’t think I should know. Is… Penny… is she mad at me, for, um… for not being good enough?”

They’re in Vacuo, it doesn’t feel real. Jaune is setting on an honest to gods mattress for the first time in decades, and it doesn’t feel real. Pyrrha keeps chuckling at his amazed expression, he can feel her over his shoulder.

There’s a knock on the door and Jaune jumps. His hand is on his sword and he’s halfway across the room before Penny floats through the wall beside the door, looking troubled. And Jaune’s heart sinks. He knows who’s going to be on the other side

Ever since Ruby landed in the Ever After, Penny has only briefly left her side, and only to visit her father.

“Jaune? Can…” Ruby’s voice, muffled, trails off. “Can I come in?” He glances at Penny, who nods reassuringly, and opens the door

Gods has Ruby always looked so small?

“Hey Ruby,” he says, sheathing his sword. They stare at each other for a moment before Jaune steps aside and Ruby sidles past him. She’s quiet in a way that reminds him of tea cups and shattered silver eyes, and it scares him.

He sits on the bed and she sits next to him, a careful distance away. “You doing okay?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Are you?” she asks.

He shrugs.

The silence drags on, awkward and stifling, broken only by Penny humming quietly. She didn’t flinch when he drew his weapon, but HE did. Gods, half of it is still sticking out of her chest and she didn’t even flinch.

“Hey, uh, Jaune? I, um. This is, uh…” Ruby’s voice gets more quiet by the word, and she won’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling at you back in the Ever After, and I-”

Jaune is spouting apologies of his own before she’s even done talking. Pyrrha has to shush him multiple times before he realizes that he cut Ruby off.

“It’s okay but …I get it if, um. If you don’t think I should know.” Ruby shrinks in on herself. Her hands are tangled in her cape “Is… Penny… is she mad at me, for, um… for not being good enough?”

Penny, of course, immediately starts yelling reassurances, and Jaune winces at the volume of the echoey words. Ruby must take his reaction as confirmation though, because she sniffles and stands. “Right. Right I’m- im sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just…”

“Wait! Wait no, Ruby, no she doesn’t!” Jaune says frantically, waving his hands. “Or she’s not! She’s not mad at you. She could never be mad at you.” He’s just passing on Penny’s words, but even if he wasn’t he’d know that they’re true. Even he isn’t stupid enough not to see how much the former-android cares about Ruby

“Ruby, it wasn’t your fault, you did everything you could. You are the most…” Jaune can’t find the words. “You are the most enough anyone could be. Penny isn’t mad at you, because come on, she’s Penny.” Ruby chuckles weakly, and he takes it as a win.

“But mostly she’s not mad because you were MORE than good enough. You got us all to Vacuo, you got EVERYONE to Vacuo. You gave all of us the strength to follow you. She…” Jaune glances up at Penny. “She wants you to know that not only is she not mad, but that she’s so SO proud. Being just you has always been more than enough.”

At this Ruby does actually start crying, and he panics for a second because shit he messed everything up again. Next he’s gonna get slammed into a wall and left to pick up the pieces, he just knows it.

Over her shoulder Penny is trying to hold Ruby’s shaking form, but she can’t make contact, and Jaune has to look away. That’s his fault, he did that. He’s the reason Penny will never be able to hug her friend again, why Ruby will never be able to be comforted by her friend again.

“Stop that…” Pyrrha’s staticky reprimand whispers. “It’s not your fault.”

It is, it is. But since it’s his fault, it’s also his responsibility to make up for it.

“Ruby can I… Can I hug you?” Jaune asks, his arms held out tentatively. It’s all the invitation his best friend needs, choking out a sob and diving at him with enough force to send them both to the ground.

And that’s what breaks Jaune, and soon enough he’s crying and sobbing into her hair while her cries are muffled against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to, I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry.” Their apologies melt together, meaningless and meaningful in equal measure.

“It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t mean to, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” Reassurances from both of them, each the only one who can truly understand what the other is going through

He feels like some kind of poison is being drawn from a wound decades left unattended.

He’s not sure how long they sit there, the literal ghosts of their past whispering and cooing calming words to the broken leaders.

“You are more than enough, Ruby. You’re my best freaking friend, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You are SO much more than enough.” Jaune’s voice is broken, croaky with tears and emotion. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince, her or himself. “I can’t lose you again.”

He feels Ruby nod against his chest. “It wasn’t your fault. You’re my best friend, I could never be mad at you. It wasn’t your fault.” Her words are fierce, exhausted, insistent, and he chokes out a sob. Ruby is trying to convince herself as much as him. Gods they really are the same, aren’t they?

“We really are messed up, aren’t we?”

Ruby chuckles, and nods against his chest. “Yeah. Proper Hunters and everything, now.” She sounds bitter, and Jaune’s arms tighten around her.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess we are.”

“Does this… does this get better?”

Decades alone being burned alive by his own guilt, going half-mad with fear. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

Ruby laughs again, and wipes at her eyes. “I’ll do the same.”

And on the floor of a Vacuo dorm room, two broken leaders begin to heal.

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 4

read part 3 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x reader

warnings: implied sexual content/loss of virginity. no explicit language but it's clear what's happening (all characters are 18+). also lots of making out

a/n: okayyyy first time writing anything like this so i hope it's good. i debated making it more or less explicit for a really long time and landed somewhere in the middle. also if you want to be added to the taglist please leave me a reply and i'll put you on the list :)

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As cute as he may be, Ethan is a terrible driver.

I can’t figure it out. He’s usually so apprehensive, but as soon as I tell him my address, he’s going 15 over the limit, knuckles tight against the wheel.

“Um, do you need directions?” I ask.

“No.” He notices my puzzled expression, so he clarifies. “We actually used to live here, when I was way younger. I’m pretty sure I know where you are.”

As we start to weave through the backstreets of the suburbs, he looks over at me with a nervous glint in his eye. “So, um, are your parents home? Will they be mad that you’re getting home so late?”

“They’re out of town. A wedding for a college friend or something. Chad wanted us to throw a party, but Sam would have flipped, so it’s just me.”

“Shame, you seem like such a party person,” he teases, and I roll my eyes at him, a slight blush creeping on my face.

He finally turns into my driveway, which is good because I’m starting to get seasick. Stepping out of the car, I fumble for my keys before realizing I left the door open this morning. I’d usually panic about this sort of thing, but I’m distracted by the feeling of Ethan’s presence behind me.

Pushing open the door and flipping on the lights, I lead him into the kitchen. For some reason, I’m really, really fucking nervous to be alone with him. “Uh, do you want any water?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, sitting down at the table.

I grab two glasses from the shelf and fill them with water, sliding one across the table. “Thanks,” he smiles. “Um, I’m sorry about everything that happened tonight. That guy was a creep and you did the right thing, obviously, but what Tara said was really not cool.

I stare into the glass. “It’s okay. She was really drunk or whatever. I can apologize to her tomorrow morning.”

Ethan frowns. “Well, sure, but it’s not really your fault, right? You were looking out for her.”

“She wasn’t actually mad about the guy, I don’t think. She got into an argument earlier with her sister and I tried to step in, so she was super pissed at me already. I think she was looking for a fight.”

“Does she do that a lot? Look for a fight, I mean?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “She drives me crazy, and sometimes I want to kill her, but she’s my best friend.”

Ethan looks like he wants to say something, but stays quiet. Now’s probably a better time than any to pivot away from Tara and the chaos of the night.

“So,” I say, “any long-distance partner from any of your previous high schools?”

He laughs. “Uh, no. I’ve actually never… had a girlfriend or anything.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. You’re just so–” 

I stop myself before I finish that sentence. He raises an eyebrow at me. “What, Y/N? So what?”

“Cute,” I mumble. “Really, really cute.”

Ethan grins. “Oh, really cute, huh?”

“Shut up,” I say. “Yeah.”

I suddenly notice how little distance there is between us. I look up nervously to meet his gaze. Jesus, he’s tall.

“I think so, too,” he says.

I give him a quizzical look. “You think you’re cute?”

“Wait. Shit. No. Not what I meant– you. I think you’re cute, too. You are.” I giggle softly, and he blushes. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

My stomach turns. My butterflies are nearly unbearable, but I nod. “Yes. Please.”

Ethan leans in, and I meet him halfway, pressing my lips against his. My heart is pounding, but the kiss feels so perfect that I forget about everything else.

We break apart and his eyes are wide with apprehension. “Was that okay?”

In reply, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again, deeper this time. He relaxes into it, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in. We kiss like that, leaning against the kitchen table, until I pull back. “Can we go upstairs? Uh, my mom sometimes keeps a camera down here.”

“Sure, lead the way,” he says, slightly out of breath.

It takes everything in me not to run up the stairs, but I take him by the hand and lead him to my room. There are books and half-finished forgeries strewn across the various surfaces, plus a laundry basket of clothes I have to put away, and I kick myself for not taking the time to clean up this morning. 

Ethan doesn’t seem to mind, though. When I turn to him, he’s only looking at me. He reaches to cup the side of my face, studying it for a moment before kissing me again. I stumble back onto my bed and he follows suit. His hand reaches for my hip and I gasp softly when he touches a little bit of exposed skin on my thigh

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he says.

“No, no please– it’s okay.” I grab his hand, placing it back on my leg. “I liked it.”

He smiles slightly, eyes darkening. As he leans in to kiss me, his hand snakes up my leg, resting at the crook of my thigh. I follow suit, running my hand down his chest. 

The undershirt I have on was great for modesty, but I’m suddenly overheating. “Hey, um, do you mind if I take this shirt off? It’s literally a hundred degrees right now.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he grins. “Well, I don’t have a problem with that…”

I blush and he laughs, but I slip the straps of the dress off my shoulders and pull the shirt over my head, exposing my collarbone and a not-insignificant amount of cleavage. Even though I’m technically covered, I feel naked underneath his gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he says. “You know that?”

My breath catches, but his compliment fills me with some type of courage. I lean over and kiss him, harder than before. He makes a muffled noise, clearly caught off guard by my sudden boldness, but wraps his hand around the back of my neck. I find the hem of his shirt and pull away just enough to ask, “Can we take this off?”

Ethan nods profusely and pulls his blue polo over his head, and I swear to god: I am the luckiest girl alive. I notice for the first time how defined his arms are, and then I’m distracted by the abs he somehow had time to curate between cross-country moves. “Fuck, Ethan, you’re gorgeous.”

Under normal circumstances, I would be embarrassed to speak this plainly, but I’m too into this to care. He responds by leaning us both back on the bed until he’s basically on top of me, kissing me deeply and firmly. I’m suddenly kissing his neck and it’s like I’m not me anymore because I never do this, but fuck, he is so attractive and he wants me too. I don’t know how long we keep making out this way, but it’s a long time before he pulls back suddenly. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

He looks away, avoiding my gaze. “I, um… I just want you to know that I haven’t… done anything like this before.”

My cheeks go red. “Ethan, I haven’t either. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“That’s the thing, though,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “I… I want to. I want you.” He pauses. “If that’s okay?”

A feeling of panic surges in my chest, but I push it down. I think about the box of condoms that Mom bought me when I turned 18, “just in case,” and the time Mindy told me about her first time with Anika, and even the way I felt when Tara left me alone earlier tonight– I know that this is what I want. 

“I want to, too. Are you sure?”

He smiles. “I’m sure.”

We lay back in my bed and he’s pulling the straps of my dress off, kissing over the newly exposed skin. He kisses down my neck and chest, and I take the time to do the same. I want to make this moment last before he asks me one more time if I’m ready.

I am. 

I don’t have a moment to second-guess myself before he’s holding me, and we’re suddenly close, so, so close, and we stay that way until we fall asleep, nestled in each other’s arms.

taglist: @miawastakens

[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 5-- Date Night

An evening in with SE Saeran (791 words)

“I’m sorry that you’re missing the party.” The words spill out of Saeran’s mouth before it can occur to him that they may not be the most appropriate. “And…. nice pajamas.” 

You snort, filing into the bunker and flopping down onto the couch. “Please don’t feel bad,” you appeal, “I just got lunch with Jumin today, and he completely understands. He was worried about you getting left alone, anyway.” 

Saeran’s heart sinks. He’d thought this was something like a date, but… “So you’re babysitting me.”

You wrinkle your face up cutely, regarding him with palpable confusion from over the top of the couch. “What?” You shake your head, “No, sorry, I should’ve said— you’re doing me a giant favor, since now I get to skip the C&R event. But Jumin already knows I hate those corporate parties— plus, I’ll go to the RFA thing tomorrow, and you’ll get the bunker to yourself. I hope it’s okay… but I’d rather spend time with you than at some boring black-tie thing. If anything, you’re babysitting me, to keep me from changing into sneakers halfway though and ruining Jumin’s reputation by association. Did you pick a movie?”

“Thanks for explaining,” Saeran grumbles. It’s always embarrassing, but his therapist has been encouraging him to communicate how he feels about other people’s actions, positive and negative, and to ask for clarification when he doesn’t know something. 

“Of course,” you grin. “I should’ve made it clear earlier. I’m sorry if you thought— it’s just— I didn’t want Chairman Han to think I was ungrateful after he gave so much to the RFA, so—” 

“It’s fine,” Saeran assures you. “I’m not mad.” That’s another thing he’s been working on— telling other people how he feels, positive and negative, to help them better understand him. 

You visibly relax. You know Saeran wouldn’t say something was fine unless it actually was. “Okay, good. Then we can actually start our date.” 

Saeran’s cheeks heat. You’re probably only saying that because you’re not actually interested in him— why would you be, after what he’s done? Maybe you see him as a friend, but he can’t imagine somebody like you ever wanting anything more than that with somebody like him. Either way, the idea of it gets him flustered. “I chose a movie.” 

“Cool.” You’re already engaged in a battle with the remote for Saeyoung’s so-called ‘Genius TV,’ a heavily modified smart TV which, for some reason, features state-of-the-art security. “Which thing is it on?”

It takes Saeran a moment to realize that you’re referring to streaming services. “I already downloaded it from the website,” he replies flatly. 

“Legally?” You ask, but there’s a twinkle in your eyes that shows you’re only joking. If you cared about people breaking laws, then you probably wouldn’t be hanging out with Saeran in the first place.

“Probably not.” He may as well be honest with you. 

You giggle, and though Saeran isn’t sure what’s so funny, he’s pleased to have made you laugh. It’s moments like these where he feels more like a normal person— he is not a burden but someone around whom you choose to spend your time for the sheer joy of it. “You’re so straightforward,” you grin. “I love that about you. But, anyway, I brought snacks— let me just look for them really quick.” 

Saeran sits down beside you and wordlessly takes the remote while you rummage through your bag. He sets up the movie before returning his attention to you. “What did you bring?” 

“Well, I got salt and vinegar chips,” you report. At Saeran’s sour expression, you evidently feel the need to clarify, “But those are mostly for me. You don’t have to eat any if you don’t want to. I also got this big bag of—” You pause to read the label on the package in a dramatic voice— “Assorted Halloween candy.” 

“I’ll take that,” Saeran mutters, accepting the gaudy orange plastic bag. He’s always preferred sweet snacks to salty ones, though he’s endeared by your confidence in providing for your own cravings, too. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you reply, “Is it okay… if I lay my head on your shoulder?” Saeran considers your request. Sometimes, he can’t handle that level of intimacy— but today he thinks it’ll be fine. Besides, if he changes his mind, he knows you’ll back off without question, caveat, or complaint. “I’d like that.” 

“Okay,” you nod, before laying your head on Saeran’s shoulder as promised. “Thanks for being here. You’re… really special to me, you know? I mean, not like— well, if you wanted to, but— what I’m saying— oh, the movie is starting. I’ll just shut up.” 

Maybe he was wrong about you not being interested in him, after all.