#and I’m currently freaking out because I still haven’t told her I’m dating someone who’s not the ideal type she thinks would be a good fit

[toyfrogs]

help 😀

[jo-harrington]

Corrective Action (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader and Eddie have been hanging out for a little while and a lot of people seem to think it’s ok to voice their opinion around her.

Previous Part: Interview Prep

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Bullying, manipulative/helicopter parents, ACAB, all around shitty people that might trigger some things. Thick skinned reader who is sick of said shitty people. Sad boy Eddie. Hurt/Comfort. Pinky promises.

Note: I really hope this one is good guys, I feel like I wrote half of this in an airport wishing I was actually drinking (I did and I was, but I'm sober and kind of currently wishing I wasn't). If this is me fishing for compliments...I guess this is just yummy bait.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager (in chronological order because I’m chaotic and I’m not gonna stop writing this way) and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

It started with Stacey at work.

You were sitting at the little desk in the stockroom, working out payroll and the next schedule, when she came to clock out.

“Hey, good job today on upselling diamonds,” you told her, incredibly proud. While she was great at customer service, she really had a hard time getting customers to add to their basket. You had worked on coaching her and she was quickly becoming your best sales associate. “I’m proud of you, you’ve been doing so great!”

“Yeah thanks! All of these rich PTA moms I swear to god,” she rolled her eyes. “I guess my mom was only a hard ass if I asked her to buy me things though. If anyone else tried to sell things to her, she always caved.”

She continued going on about her mom getting all the upgrades when she got a new car.

“���Mr. Harrington almost started singing when she finally signed the lease.” She laughed but then sobered up, glancing around the stockroom to see if anyone else was around. Stacey cleared her throat. “Hey I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“What’s up?”

“Are you, like…dating Eddie Munson?”

It would have been an innocent enough question if not for her tone. Or the way she grimaced and scrunched her nose, as if just saying his name put a bad taste in her mouth.

Eddie had been wary of your interactions with Stacey from the beginning, you recalled. And when you had asked him why later on, he beat around the bush a little before giving in.

She was someone who had been in his classes for as long as he could remember, she was not a cheerleader but certainly one of the popular girls, and when her jock boyfriend got a job at the local insurance office after missing his chances at getting an athletic scholarship, she stayed behind too and made all of the local gossip her business.

And for some reason, even if he swore he never remembered saying more than two words to her at any given time, she made rumors about him her specialty.

You’d been at a loss. On the one hand, you knew Eddie dealt with bullies and rumors even if he never outright admitted it to you. But on the other, you had no reason to distrust Stacey. All you knew about the people you worked with were just what they told you and what you were able to witness while working together. And you knew Stacey engaged in all sorts of gossip. But Eddie’s name had never exited her mouth.

Until now.

“What?” You were so shocked at the entire scenario that you didn’t even realize she would take that as an invitation for her to continue.

“Well he’s been hanging around the store and I’ve seen you guys sitting together sometimes. But like…well, haven’t you heard?” She got closer and sat in the chair next to you. “He, like, sacrifices virgins in the woods and has, I don’t know, summoned demons before. He’s a Satanist, a freak.”

You bristled at the name-calling and the accusations.

“Stace—“

”And you’re new so of course you don’t know—“

“Stacey I’m gonna stop you right there,” you held up your hand and she immediately shut up and sat up a little straighter. “First of all, it is incredibly inappropriate to ask me about my personal life. About any aspect of it, outside of what I willingly share with you. I am your boss, I’m not your friend, this isn’t high school. We are all entitled to privacy and I am incredibly uncomfortable discussing this with you.

“Second, again not that you need to know, but no. I am not dating Eddie. Eddie works here in StarCourt and you make friends with people when you work at a shopping mall. That being said, Eddie is not only an employee at StarCourt, but also a human being and a neighbor to all of us—”

“Ew no he isn’t. He lives in that—“ she started but you weren’t having any of it.

“And because of that he deserves some respect. Calling someone a freak and spreading rumors isn’t respectful. Which leads me to the last point.

“One of the values of this company is integrity. Doing the right thing, even if it’s hard to do. And I’m sorry but bullying, under any circumstance, is not the right thing to do. So even though you are off the clock, you are still on company property and you are certainly not operating with integrity. I’m incredibly disappointed that I have to have this kind of conversation with you, but I will consider this a warning for next time.

“If I hear talk like this coming from you again, there will be disciplinary action,” you concluded. “Do you understand?”

You hated to do it, you hated to put on the manager pants. You hated that Stacey’s eyes welled with tears the longer you talked and that she trembled as she finally nodded. But even if Eddie wasn’t your friend, you wouldn’t condone this kind of behavior. You held your team to an incredibly high standard and this wasn’t it.

You sent Stacey home and got back to the schedule with a sour taste in your mouth.

---

The next time, you were actually out with Eddie.

He had told you that the sunrise at the old quarry was second to none and when you confessed that you had never actually watched the sunset or the sunrise before, he immediately figured out the best day for you to go together.

He had put together a picnic with all sorts of breakfast foods, because apparently no one made pancakes, bacon, and eggs better than he did—

“Got an A+ in home ec, thank you very much. Didn’t help me get my GPA up but Wayne is pretty happy when I have breakfast waiting for him after a double shift.”

—and treats from the gas station since he insisted that you needed to experience all of the convenience food he loved. There was a thermos full of coffee and a boat load of blankets in the back of the van. He picked you up at your apartment, ringing the bell at ass o’clock in the morning looking way too energetic for someone who woke up so early.

“What do you mean? I never went to sleep!”

The radio was low as he drove you towards the outskirts of town; he’d also surprised you with a replacement of your old Boston cassette that you had nearly played to death, and he hummed along and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel along with Foreplay.

You reached a certain sign on the road signaling the quarry was up ahead, only for the tell tale lights and “whoop whoop” of a squad car to sound off from behind you. Eddie cursed and pulled off to the side of the road.

“Sweetheart can you grab me, uh” he motioned for the glove box. You’d already popped it open and dug through to find his registration as he pulled the wallet from his pocket. “Thanks.”

The crunch of gravel caused Eddie to look at this side mirror and groan a low, drawn out “fuck.”

“Munson,” the officer greeted roughly once the window was rolled down.

“Callahan,” Eddie replied. “Hopper got you on traffic patrol now huh?”

“Very funny,” Callahan deadpanned. “You know why I pulled you over.”

“Actually I don’t,” Eddie chuckled dryly. “License plates are up to date, I wasn’t speeding, and that tail light you busted last time you pulled me over is fixed.”

What the fuck?

"I don't like the tone you're taking with me, kid," Callahan spat. "Not a respectful bone in your body, any time I have to pull you over. It's for your safety after all. And the safety of the entire town."

How many times had this guy pulled Eddie over? 5? 10?

“Anyway, we just broke up a party over in Loch Nora about an hour ago, lot of kids high and wasted,” Callahan continued and there was no way you could have guessed the words that were coming out of his mouth next. “I know how you like to hang around parties like those, do a few deals. Maybe you decided to take advantage of some pretty girl who doesn’t know where she is.”

Callahan leaned down a little further and shined a flashlight into the van, directly at you.

“How you doing tonight miss? Can you tell me your name please?”

Your world was shaken to the core.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, clenching your fists.

“You got your wits about you, or do I need to call an ambulance or something? Maybe your mom, if she needs to come pick you up?”

“I’m fine, officer, but I don’t like what you’re implying about my friend here.” You responded harshly. “Or about me. I am a grown woman, I am in this van of my own volition, with full mental capacities other than the fact that I’m maybe a little tired because I just woke up 20 minutes ago to go see the sunrise with my friend.”

Callahan stumbled over his words for a second, immediately backtracking as Eddie sat speechless in the driver's seat.

“We were never at a party in Loch Nora. Eddie didn’t kidnap me. Neither of us are drunk or high. So I’m pretty sure this is an unlawful traffic stop officer,” you concluded.

Both officer Callahan and Eddie looked at you with dumbstruck expressions.

“What, it’s true. So unless you have another reason to have pulled us over, officer?” You asked. “Can we be on our way now?”

He cleared his throat and handed the license and registration back to Eddie.

“Must have seen another van outside the party. An easy mistake to make,” he replied. “Got yourself a smart girlfriend there, Munson. Don’t fuck it up like you usually do ok?”

Callahan did another “whoop whoop” before pulling away and heading back to town, but Eddie continued to sit stiffly, refusing to move.

“You ok?” You asked, putting a hand on his arm.

“I can’t…he didn’t…” Eddie stumbled over his words. “I’m not like that ok? I don’t…I don’t take advantage of girls at parties. Fuck. Please don’t think—”

“I didn’t,” you assured him.

“Callahan always has it in for me, man,” He explained. “I don’t even know what I did. Caught me smoking weed on school grounds with the guys one summer way back and it was like a permanent target was placed on my back.”

“Small town cops with a big ego,” you explained, knowing fully well how douchebags like that were. “And you’re the resident bad boy.”

“You gotta stop calling me that,” he groaned in, what you believed to be, embarrassment.

---

And it kept happening.

Whispers when you went out for pizza, eyes watching you at the grocery store with pity or disgust, you didn’t know for sure. The one time you both stopped in Montgomery Ward on lunch to get a new dress (and for Eddie not to spend his lunch alone) and the saleswoman kept hovering as though you were about to steal.

Well, not you. Eddie.

No one usually dared to say anything to your face but you could still hear it. “She hangs around that Munson boy. Ugh such a troublemaker. Poor girl. Someone should tell her. He’s a trickster, that one.”

And no, you knew it wasn’t everyone. Just the busybodies who didn’t know what they were talking about.

You’d usually roll your eyes and continue on with your day. You could take whatever was thrown your way—some people just sucked and they couldn’t keep their mouths shut—but you knew how it affected Eddie. You could see it when you were with him, how deflated he became.

Your friend, one of the best people you knew, regardless of your stupid crush on him. He became distant, shrunk like he wanted to take up less space in the world.

You just about had enough of it.

And it all came to a head one day, a week after you hired Chrissy Cunningham as a part-time associate.

Her mother dropped her off after Cheer camp one day and wanted to see the new store.

You had a pretty solid parent policy that you made known to your teenage associates, just as your old store manager did when she first hired you at 16. Parents could come in and visit, shop, sure. But they weren’t going to interfere with the business. No calling to complain if the schedules conflicted with family nights. No calling in sick on their kids behalf.

“If you’re old enough to take on the responsibility of a job, you’re taking all of the responsibilities, ok? Even the not so nice ones.”

Chrissy, just like the others, understood.

Chrissy’s mom, on the other hand, had a bit of a problem with that.

You were nice enough when they first got in, getting to hear how the whole family was so excited about her first job, how it would look great on college applications come Fall. Chrissy, of course, had told you all of this in her interview; she was a sweet kid who clearly was trying to take on a lot and once you met her mom, you understood where the pressure was coming from.

Your mom was like that too, in her own way. Picking and picking and picking.

“Oh actually,” Mrs Cunningham started and from her tone you knew it was just going to be the beginning of a whole to-do. “I was meaning to ask if Chrissy could change her schedule? I saw you had put her on Saturday afternoons. But there’s a junior cheer team at the park district that she helps coach and they have meets on the first Saturday of the month.”

The too-big, overly-whitened smile was an unspoken threat of “you’re going to give me what I want or else.”

You explained that weekends were a mandatory availability for your associates who were still in school, but it didn’t mean they would always be scheduled. You had already told Chrissy that you would give her the days of her meets off, if she let you know the dates at least 2 weeks in advance. It was only once a month, after all.

That smile fell, like it always did, when someone like Mrs. Cunningham, like your mother, like all the other Stepford-wife types in town, didn’t get their way.

She tried once again to explain, this was important to Chrissy and she could trade Saturdays for another day. Maybe Thursday afternoon? Only if she didn’t have too much homework, of course.

But there was no way to know that when you were writing the schedule two weeks out, you argued.

"Then I guess you'll just have to find a replacement for her shifts if she can't come in," Mrs. Cunningham argued.

“Ma’am, I leave the responsibility of schedule and availability to my associates when I hire them,” you explain. “Not their parents. You said you were excited for Chrissy to have a job. It’s only been a week. If she thinks she can handle Saturdays—or even if she doesn’t—I’ll leave it up to her. School hasn't even started yet; let's just give it some time before we try to make changes ok?”

And as one does when they feel attacked, she went after low hanging fruit.

“I wouldn’t expect you,” she sneered, “to know a whole lot about responsibility…or planning ahead for the future. You work in this little shop; it's not even a real job. I’ll bet you didn’t even go to college.

“And Chrissy said you’re friends with the Munson boy right? That he shows up sometimes to talk to you. He’s never known a day of responsibility in his life. He’s…he’s a drug dealer, a troublemaker—”

“Alright that’s it,” you interjected. “This is a place of business—my place of business—and we’re getting busy, so I will have to ask you to leave Mrs. Cunningham. Unless you want to stay for a piercing, I do have paying customers to tend to. I will discuss the schedule again with Chrissy. I promise.

“But for now, thanks for stopping by, it was so nice to meet you.”

---

“God she was such a bitch,” you complained as you watched Eddie throw cardboard boxes into the bailer.

This was typical for lunches spent together. You would both run trash down to the loading dock and complain about work while Eddie smoked—allowing you to luxuriate in his secondhand smoke for a little while—and then you would head to the food court to eat and just…spend time together.

Listen to music, talk about movies or books or whatever else came to mind.

This friendship was still new, there was plenty to talk about.

You kind of hoped there would always be something new to talk about. And that you two would be talking and having lunch together for a long time.

Best not get your hopes up though.

Currently, you were recounting the interaction with Mrs. Cunningham, purposefully leaving out the way she brought him into conversation.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Right?

“Poor Chrissy,” you sighed.

“Poor Chrissy?” Eddie scoffed. “Yeah, really sucks to be on top.”

“You know, she might be on top at school—”

“And her family might be rich, and she might live in a big house, and she might only need to work so it looks good on college applications. See where I’m going with this?”

“—but it sucks to have a parent constantly shitting on you. Even if they do it for ‘your benefit...'.”

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

“I stayed at home with you kids and this is the thanks I get?”

“I can’t make you respect this family. But don’t you have any self-respect?”

Maybe you were just projecting...

“Speaking of Queen Bee, here she comes now with her lover boy,” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes dramatically, and then he made a gagging noise. You were exiting the service corridors and spotted Chrissy, who had clocked out for the day, walking towards the food court with a very clean, athletic-looking blond boy.

“Now if you wanna talk about a bitch, look no further than Jason Carver.”

He proceeded to tell you all about how Jason and Jeff were neighbors, how they used to be friends as kids. How they stopped talking once Jason started up with sports, and he started picking on Jeff once he made varsity.

“He had some macho, roided up growth spurt last year, and that paired with the self-righteous bible thumping meant that Hellfire was an easy target. Those meathead jocks picked on us before, sure, but…I dunno, Jason is a whole other level of cruel. 

“And he doesn’t hesitate to beat up the younger kids, but if I’m around…well needless to say they’re a little scared of me, they don’t want to take a chance that I’ll put a curse on them or something.

“I’ll do whatever I need to, I’ll be their villain, if it means keeping those kids safe.” He rubbed the sleeve of his flannel against his nose and sniffled lightly. “But it’s not like there’s anything I can do aside from that. I have to just sit there and take it, let my friends take it, because if I don’t…if I don’t, then I become everything they say I am. Angry, dangerous, a menace, a criminal.”

“Eddie that’s terrible,” you grumbled, Chrissy’s mom and your own troubles forgotten. "You don't deserve to be picked on like that."

Eddie hummed in contemplation for a moment.

“Ok enough of them, do you want to share chili cheese fries?” He diverted. You hesitated, not wanting to drop the subject entirely, but also not wanting to push him. Eddie flashed you those big, pleading eyes, though, and you caved.

Asshole knew exactly what he was doing.

“Sure,” you smiled.

“And you’ll let me buy today,” he continued, holding his hand out before you could argue. “Because you feel bad for me you’re gonna let me do it.”

“What logic is that?!” You exclaimed. He giggled maniacally and motioned for you to find a table before he practically skipped to the line to order.

He was lucky that he was cute.

---

Chrissy approached you the next time she had a shift together; you were planning to pull her aside at the end of her shift to double check that she was sure about her availability and to go over the parent policy once again. It was kind of a relief that she took the initiative instead.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” she began timidly. “She shouldn't have come in here just to interfere. It's just that I do have a lot going on, and when I told her I wanted to work at the mall too...well, she just..."

"Chrissy, I understand," you interjected. "Really I do, you don't need to explain. I knew when I hired you that you had a lot on your plate."

"Thank you again, by the way."

"I just want to make sure that you're sure this is the right move. Do we need to look at your availability again?" you asked. "If your mom comes back to have this conversation again, I'm not going to stand for it. I need employees who are responsible for their own time."

"No I know..." she sighed. "I'll talk with her. I really do like working here."

"I like having you work here," you reassured her. "You're doing a really great job so far."

"R-really?" she smiled, eyes getting a little glossy. "Thank you. I'm trying. My mom...never seems to be happy with anything I do. If it's not what I do, it's how long it takes, and if it's not that, then it's how I look, and--" She was starting to breathe a little heavily and you sighed.

"Hey listen, I get it," you said gently. "Mom's...well, sometimes they can be the worst. They know exactly what buttons to push. And I don't want to sound insensitive because I want you to know you can talk to me any time, I'm here for you. But we are on the sales floor.

"I know your shift is almost over, if you want to take a few to go in back and settle down before you leave, you can," you encouraged her. It wasn't a busy day; you could afford to give her a few extra minutes to herself.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, Mindy will be back from lunch in a few and I can come and grab you if I need you."

Chrissy gave you a watery smile and then headed back into the stockroom.

There were a few minutes of restocking bracelets before the shop bell rang as a new customer walked in.

"Hey! Welcome in!" You greeted brightly, mindlessly, before looking up to find Chrissy's boyfriend standing there. He smiled and nodded in greeting.

"Hey, I'm here to pick Chrissy up," he explained.

"You're a little early," you laughed, trying to be cordial despite Eddie's words about him echoing in your mind. "She's just in back finishing up. I'll let her know you're here."

"Nah, that's ok," Jason shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you really quick."

You frowned at him and narrowed your eyes.

"Boyfriends unfortunately don't qualify for the employee discount," you stated lightly, hoping that this was the only thing he had to ask. "So if you have a little sister or something--"

"No, it's about Eddie Munson," he continued. "You really need to stay away from him."

Yeah. That was exactly what you were afraid he would say.

Ugh, you were really getting tired of this.

And it wasn't just that you were sick of people meddling, it was this boy in particular who was really rubbing you the wrong way. Gossipy sales associates with jock boyfriends, useless troublesome cops, nosy housewives, and well-meaning grandmas were one thing.

But a high school boy who was still wearing a letterman jacket in July, with a too nice smile and the audacity to have a savior complex when he was the one tormenting other kids?

That was where you drew the line.

You just wondered if you were willing to lose your job because of him.

“I'm telling you this for your own good. The crowd he’s a part of…,” Jason leaned closer as though it was a secret. “They’re a bunch of wastoids, listening to that devil's music, trying to lure virgins into the woods to sacrifice. And if you want to sit with the right crowd at lunch when school starts--”

You barked a laugh at this, right in his face, and he backed away looking confused.

Ok, so this wasn't "lose your job" worthy.

You mentally pulled on both your Disappointed Older Sibling and Angry Store Manager pants to gear up for this fight.

"Ok kid, real talk," you started, clapping your hands like a coach would. "I'm not in the business of yelling at teenage boys. And as flattering as it is that you might think I'm still in high school, there is no way a teenager would be managing a store. So there's point number one. Number two, don't assume a lady's age ok? At all. In either direction. That's a life lesson I'm gonna give you for free.

"Number three, and not that this conversation isn't...just really lovely, I need to get a point across and I'm sincerely doubtful you're gonna listen to me anyway. I just need you to understand that...like, whoever is hanging out with who, or going where, or doing what, is generally none of your business. Especially your girlfriend's boss. It's really disappointing that a nice boy like you is gonna cause his girlfriend to lose her job because he can't mind his own business."

And that was the punctuation at the end of the sentence to make him look nervous and a little sweaty.

You felt a little bad saying it, because no, you weren't going to fire Chrissy because of this dumb boy. But hopefully this would be a lesson learned.

"E-e-eddie was hanging around Chrissy the other day," he stuttered, looking extremely out of his element. Never been the person who had to face consequences before; you knew the type. "I saw him in here when I came to pick her up. She said...you were his friend and he was just waiting for you."

"I'm sure he was waiting for me."

"He always had crushes on the cheerleaders," he explained. "He was sniffing around this girl Julie a few years ago and she found out he was into this satanic stuff...I figured either you or Chrissy were next..."

"Oh buddy," you sighed. "And you figured if you came in here and told me not to hang around him, I would be spared...and Chrissy would be too?"

"See? You get it."

"Except that's really not how things work in real life or at a shopping mall, kid," you said. "Everyone is allowed to go wherever they want and talk to whoever they want. And I, as one of the managers in this building, am able to assess what is a danger to myself and my employees and Eddie certainly isn't one of them. Except for his corny jokes, he is harmless.

"You on the other hand," you continued, savoring the moment Jason's eyes got a little wider. "Approached me with a very distinct and threatening energy. So unless you want me to call mall security and make sure you are no longer allowed on the premises, I will need you to...re-evaluate your tone of voice and your intention of visiting.

"So, what was your name again?"

"J-Jason Carver, ma'am."

Ew. Ma'am. Ok you weren't that old. But you could deal with it.

"Jason Carver," your tone changed immediately, back to the sickening Store Manager voice you defaulted to on a regular basis. Eddie had called it unsettling before, to hear you go from your regular tone of voice to that. Jason's eye twitched and you grinned maniacally. "It's so nice to meet you. Chrissy was telling everyone it's your anniversary coming up?"

His eyes shifted slightly, and he laughed nervously.

"Ye-yes ma'am," he agreed.

"And what are you planning to get her as a gift?" you asked. He froze again. Ok, no gift; Chrissy definitely deserved better than that. "I think a necklace would be really lovely. Not from here, I can see you looking at the jewelry wall. But there's a really nice jewelry store downstairs that has birthstone pendants and stuff. I think she would really love something from there."

"I-I think that's a great idea," he nodded vigorously.

The door to the stockroom opened and Chrissy walked out with her bag in hand, ready for you to check it.

"Ok, I'm all set to go then, thank you so much for--Jason!" Chrissy smiled when she saw her boyfriend. "I thought you were going to wait for me downstairs."

He cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Figured I would come up and surprise you," he grinned smoothly. "Met your boss, she's...really cool, just like you said."

Nice save.

Ok maybe he wasn't as stupid as you originally thought.

Chrissy waved goodbye as they left, and Jason had the right sense to keep his mouth shut.

---

You waited outside Tape World as the mall started to slow down and get dark. There was a little coin-operated horse right outside of the store and you leaned against it and wondered, if it was a real horse, how fast it could take you and Eddie out of this shit hole of a town, away from all of the people who said horrible things.

You had nothing to complain about though. Eddie had to deal with it for years. He did so much to protect his friends...all you wanted to do was to protect him too.

The gate opened up and Eddie ducked underneath, grinning at you once it was locked and he was upright once again. He muttered a quick goodbye to the associate who closed with him before he approached you.

"Hey, it's only Thursday," he laughed. "Did I forget we had plans? I thought you opened."

"No, I was a mid," you shrugged. "But I stayed because..."

Should you tell him? You didn't want to upset him, or have him pull away from you, like he always did whenever talk of his reputation around town was mentioned. You wanted your silly, carefree, wonderful best friend not to have to suffer because of narrow minded people anymore.

"Beeeccaauuuuseee." He hums for a moment. "Because you knew that I was planning a Little Debbie taste test for Sunday and that all of the snacks were in the van right now?"

"What?" you laughed. "Oh my God."

"You said you were more of a Hostess person. I am trying to change your allegiance to the Dark Side of the Force." He stood taller, theatrically trying to mimic Darth Vader. "What better way than with a joint or two and a shit ton of snack cakes at the lake."

"Eddie!"

"What? Don't tell me you have never smoked before," he said in mock offense. "What rock have you been living under? I'm going to have to call your parents, young lady. They did too good a job raising you."

You stared at him for a minute as he laughed and you couldn't help yourself; you quickly closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his waist. He went stiff for a second before placing one of his arms around your shoulders and his other hand on the back of your head.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. "I mean, I know I did good with the Little Debbie, but you don't have to smoke if you don't want to. I was just kidding."

"No, it's not..." you sighed.

Hugging Eddie was nothing like hugging a girl friend--all squeezes and giggles over something silly and stupid--or hugging a relative--stiff and a little cold, your family not really ones for outward affection to begin with. He was just the right hug shape, his arms at the right height, the right length to wrap around you. His cheek at the right height to rest on the top of your head if he really wanted to (which you really hoped he did). His stupid waist that was perfect for you to wrap your arms around and soft enough that you could squeeze a little bit and he would actually give instead of just stiff and there.

An Eddie Hug was a perfect hug.

And hopefully your hug was perfect for him too, so that it wouldn't hurt him or scare him away as you told him...

"You remember last week?" you began. "You said Jason Carver is the biggest bitch I'd ever meet?"

"Y-yeah," he replied hesitantly, getting a little stiff in your arms, but he did nothing to pull away from you.

"Well, I met him and he is," you continued.

"What did he do?" Eddie asked, irritation evident in his voice. "If...if he did something, said something to you, I swear to God I--"

"I handled it," you cut him off. "He tried to scare me away from you. He said...well, it doesn't matter does it?"

"I'm sure it's what everyone says about me."

"And I told him he could get fucked," you said.

"What?!" Eddie finally pushed you away from him, hands gripping your arms tightly, as he laughed. "No you didn't."

"No I didn't," you shook your head. "But I might as well have. I think I scared him."

"Did you do the creepy voice?" he asked.

"Yeah," you giggled.

"I fucking hate that," he shivered.

"One day, Eddie Munson, you will answer the phone with a 'y'ello' and you will forever be turned to the Dark Side too," you mimicked his Darth Vader impression. "Just you wait and see."

"Never, I would sooner die!" He threw an arm across his eyes dramatically and turned away from you. After a moment had passed, he stood up straight again, hands fidgeting at his sides. "So, uh, are we cool?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because everyone tells you to stay away from me," he shrugged. "That I'm no good. That I'm a freak. I've been hearing it all my life. But I don't think I could stand it if I heard it from you too."

"Eddie," you started, worrying at your lip for a second. "I know how soul crushing it is to constantly have to hear how bad you are, how you're never gonna live up to whatever expectations others have of you. But listen to me, and listen good: you are absolutely wonderful.

"A wonderful neighbor, a wonderful coworker, a wonderful friend. Who cares what other people think about you; who cares, even...what I think about you?"

"I care," he shrugged.

"But it doesn't matter how many people tell me that you're bad, I'm never gonna think that about you ok? You're so many things but you're also just...good. Ok?"

"Ok," he nodded, eyes getting progressively more watery by the second.

"And don't you start with the self-deprecating shit around me anymore either," you weakly swatted at his shoulder and his torso, and he laughed. "I can't take it. Only one of us can be a miserable piece of shit, and I'm older, so I have dibs."

"You're not a miserable piece of shit," he chuckled. "You're wonderful too."

"No more of this...sad sackery then? From either of us?" you asked and held out a pinky to him. "You can't break a pinky swear."

Eddie wrapped his pinky around yours tightly.

"No more. Upon punishment of death."

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04

Tag List (can I call you guys the Sales Associates? OMG, that's what it's gonna be): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytchh @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I'm sure I missed some tag requests, but I have been out of town with shoddy internet access so blame that, not me.

[rubyvhs]

remedy (ii) — sam winchester

>prev | series masterlist

summary: jessica and gen explore what’s between them by forcing you and sam to do the same —tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!reader, insecure reader.

“You never told me what happened with Sam.” And with good reason too. Jess, she’s your best friend and your roommate, naturally she got worried when you kept avoiding the topic. The topic being: ‘You and Sam spent an awfully long time outside. Alone.”

“Nothing happened. We smoked.”

Her eyes widen and she lets go of her phone. You’re both in your two room apartment, but currently in hers. She’s on the beanbag, you’re on the bed. She’s about to scream. “You what?”

“Yeah.” You say a little reservedly. You trust Jess wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t tell anyone, and it isn’t like it’s a secret even if she does, but she’s very overprotective. As in, she would go give Sam a piece of her mind if you say anything that could piss her off. Again, not like he did anything, but still. You can never be too careful.

“Come on, slut, I want details.”

“Those are the details. We smoked.” Oh fuck it. “And he asked if I’m a sophomore.”

“Why would he ask—” It hits her quickly and her eyes widen with an exaggerated gasp. “No way. Sam freaking Winchester likes you?”

“He doesn’t.”

“I beg to differ. He’s a senior, you know that, right?” You nod, pulling you head down as you play with your fingers in your lap. There’s not much you can do with Sam without him looking at you like a kid. It’s only a five year age difference— hell, your parents are eight years apart, but in university it’s different. He’ll want to feel mature, it’s hard to date someone who— yeah, hasn’t actually done anything. Ever. 

Scratch that, he probably wouldn’t date you if you were twenty. Okay that’s more of your insecurities talking but still.

“C’mon, you so don’t like Sammy. That hair? Are you serious?” 

You suddenly catch her tone and look up with a small laugh, “You’re kidding!” And yeah, you're theory is right, she’s blushing. “You like Sam?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t deny it—”

“I don’t—”

“Lying whore—”

“I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“It’s Gen.” You furrow your eyebrows into a frown and tilt your head. What’s Gen? “I like her. Not Sam.”

“Okay… what does that have to do with—”

“She’s his best friend. She’s into girls but they’re roommates and I used to date Sam so I don’t know what he said about me— I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I used to date him.” You get out of your seat at her slightly trembling voice. She says the last sentence like it’s an afterthought, like it’s not supposed to mean much. It fuels your insecurities, but other than that, nothing. “I’ve liked her for a year now but she’s… I’m scared to tell her.” 

“Gen’s hot. You’re hot.” You sit up on the desk so your legs are dangling in front of Jess, she places her hands on your thighs. “Come on, don’t be stupid. I haven’t paid attention but I’m sure she’d feel the same way if you made a move.”

“Maybe,” but she doesn’t think so, you can tell, “I don’t wanna— I mean, I know you haven’t seen her around a lot but she’s cool, okay? Like really cool. And Sam’s like her German Shepherd bodyguard.” That earns a genuine laugh from you and she slowly smiles into it too. She loosens up even as she’s panicking slightly because, seriously? How ridiculous is this?

“‘S okay, Jess. Cool or not, you're cooler. You’re the coolest. No one has anything on you, and don’t even worry about the German Shepherd bodyguard.” 

Famous last words.

Sometimes, in life, it’s better to shut up than comfort your friend. So much better. The most better, no matter how grammatically incorrect that sentence is. Because if you don’t shut up, you end up on double dates (three days before your final) with a guy who probably hates your guts. 

And it’s all your fault really. Your self control and Jess’s pouty face. God, it’s cruel for her to have such a beautiful weapon. Real shame it doesn’t work on Sam to make him back down— which is why you’re here. On Gen and Jess’s date. With Sam. This isn’t a double date. This is just… torture, in its purest forms. 

“I could be studying right now.” You whine while Jess parks her mustang at the mall entrance. It’s a last-ditch attempt to go back home. 

“You studied enough. I quizzed you on the flashcards three times.”

“But I missed a few the last time.”

“You’ll pass.” 

“Jess, c’mon, does he even know?”

Last ditch attempt turns into a complaining session. It doesn’t work. Doesn’t make you feel better. And definitely doesn’t stop you from stuttering and blushing like a ten year old when you see Sam. 

Gen and Sam meet you at the shooting range where you’re supposed to have your ‘date’. You greet Gen with a hug while Jess does the same for Sam, and when you switch… he’s smiling but you decide to play it safe and put out your hand. He glances at it for a second before extending his and saying a quick ‘hey’. It works out, there isn’t any of that initial awkwardness, and it’s almost like four friends going out. 

You decide to get food first so you end up at a cafe/restaurant type of thing called mince. 

“Why’d you choose here?” It’s the first thing you’ve said that actually sounds like you want to be here and Gen’s smiling as she answers.

“Used to work here last summer, best freakin’ burgers ever!” She’s so bubbly, her shoulder-length brown hair is in loose waves that you just need to ask how she does, her smokey eyeshadow has a hint of glitter on the sides and it’s all very pretty. She’s pretty. You get what Jess is on about.

“And the—” Gen interrupts Sam to shout ‘milkshake’ at the same time he says it which is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. She gets excited about the smallest stuff and is showing it constantly. 

“You used to work here too?” You ask, just because you’re proud you spoke at all.

“No, would annoy Gen to get me half-off meals the whole summer.” Gen rolls her eyes like it’s true which makes the rest of you laugh. 

And it goes on with casual conversation; when are your exams, what are you doing this summer, did you hear about Lily’s new party. It’s mostly like all of your outings until the food comes, then Gen and Jess start to close their conversation in.

Gen and Jess. They should have a joint name. Genevieve and Jessica. Jenica? Jessevieve? Nessica? Maybe you should take a break. But God these burgers really are as delicious as she says. Incredible. All that flavor put in one? Maybe you should work here. 

It seems like your (practically) moans aren’t so quiet because Sam’s amused expression says it all when you look up at him. He’s sitting opposite to you and watching you eat more than he’s touching his own food. “That good?”

You swallow and quickly nod. Yeah it’s that good, what kind of joke is that? It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Best burger, anyway. You take a sip or your cherry cola before he shakes his head, “You’re missing out.”

“What?”

“On the milkshake.” You smile a little and play with your necklace’s charm, something you’ve picked up doing since you stopped smoking regularly (the small wins in life). “Here,” He moves his across the table. With his straw. So first you share a cigarette and now a straw? You may as well kiss at this point, it’s all the same. 

You lean down to try it and— wow. You’ll be personally giving every chef in this place a raise, who cares if you don’t have the right to do that? You will make the right when their food is this flavorful. 

Even a vanilla milkshake feels different— is that cinnamon? 

“Right?” And if your feverish nod wasn’t something to go by, then the fact that you were the first to finish your food says it all. 

After you’ve all eaten till you couldn’t get up (thank God for friends who you can accomplish that with), you walk around, hand linked in Jess on one side with Gen and Sam on her other. You don’t want to make Sam uncomfortable, no matter how nice he acted in the restaurant so you try to stay as far away as you can. Which okay, in retrospect you might look like a toddler holding onto Jess but no one seems to mind.

Until they do. “Me and Gen are gonna look at something, okay?” Jess says, her voice a little low so only you can hear. Jess wouldn’t hate you for refusing, but you can see how much she wants this. You nod and swallow your fears. That would leave you alone with Sam. “Don’t worry, okay? He’s a good guy—”

“‘M not worried. Have fun, baby.” She beams and runs over to where Gen’s standing. Sam is on the phone somewhere so you settle for walking around ‘till you stop at a jewelry store. If anything reminds you of your parents, it’s stores like this. Gold jewelry. Your tradition. Other people would get phones or shoes when they achieved something, you’d get an 18 karat ring— and it’s not to say you’re a multi-millionaire (you definitely aren’t), it’s much much cheaper where you're from. 

You got your first earring when you were two days old from your uncle. A necklace from your grandfather. Three bracelets from your father. All gold. 

“You like it?” Sam’s voice startles you, jumping back, you look at him. He’s looking expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess,” They’re beautiful earrings, matching the ones your mother wears all the time back home. “Reminds me of someone.” 

He nods and when you look up into his eyes he’s quick to blurt out ‘I’m sorry’ like he’s scared he’ll talk himself out of saying it. What does he have to apologize for? You guys didn’t even flirt, it was nothing. 

“It’s okay. I mean— obviously you have nothing to be sorry for anyways.”

“I shouldn’t have done that—”

“What, talking to me?”

“Leaving.” Does the action of breathing include air being sucked out from your lungs forever? Thag Shouldn’t be happening. “It makes it seem like I'm an asshole and you’re cool, didn’t mean to make it look like that. I’d love to be your friend, give me your number?” you hesitate for a moment too long, “if you want, of course. If you want to be friends with a senior.”

He says it like he’s a fifty year old senior resident which forces a laugh out of you and helps you relax a little. “Yeah, of course, I just didn’t want to assume anything, you’ve been nice, Sam, haven’t been rude or anything. It’s just, you looked pretty scared when I mentioned my age.”

He rubs the back of his neck with a small huff, “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

“Okay, yeah, give me your phone,” He opens the contacts app and you easily add your number along with your name. First and last. Who knows how many people he knew had your name? Could be hundreds. Thousands. Millions even. 

“It’s not a bad thing that you got scared— but anyways,” you hand him his phone back, “if it makes you feel any better I’m turning eighteen in a couple of months.” It’s not a total lie, you’re turning in January. It’s May. So if you think about it, it’s a couple of months… multiplied by four. Really only eight months. Same thing.

“It doesn’t,” he snorts and you frown a little. His eyes widen  and he shakes his head, “not in… I meant that there’s nothing to feel bad about anyways. You’re a cool person, I like hanging around you.”

You try to lighten the mood, smiling and waving your hand, “Keep the lies coming.” He laughs a little but you can see he’s about to explain himself again. “It’s fine, Sam. I understand what you mean. I liked hanging out with you too.”

“Yeah?” Flirting, friendly banter, pity— who cares, you’re talking and he’s being all cute while you make your way around a mall that you have no interest being in. 

“Definitely. And I tried blueberry cigarettes for the first time with you.” You say excitedly, and it’s really true. It was thrilling (when compared to your routine of studying, eating and going to the gym everyday) to try cigarettes with flavor— not that it was really prominent, but at least you tried it. “And your car’s amazing. A Mazda, right?”

His eyes seem to twinkle in the way-too bright light, “Got it last year actually.”

“I noticed, ‘s a newer model.”

“Yeah, twenty one.” You're both somehow closer as you walk, your arms brushing against each other in the white short sleeve top you decided to wear and his Zeppelin t-shirt. You’re about to take your phone out (because God knows that that's the only thing you can do when you’re stuck in an awkward situation) before he points at a shop and practically shoves you to come with him. Not that you need a push, you would’ve gone very very willingly. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask when you stop right in front of a dollar store. 

“‘S a tradition me and my brother had— have. We buy fireworks every first of the month.” You feel a light laugh escape you even as you want to pout in confusion. What does that have to do with you? “It helped us save money instead of buying them all at once on the Fourth of July. Still haven’t bought my May ones, we should go in.” It doesn’t take you five seconds of looking into his sparkling eyes to agree. Those eyes. They’re just brown so you can’t say that the color is what captivates you, it’s the way he uses them. So so insanely innocent when you’re sure he isn’t, when he's shown you he isn’t. The fact that he’s still hanging out with you is proof enough.

“It’s the twentieth of may, anyways, why did you wait so long to buy them?” The question is born out of curiosity as you both walk around the different aisles, you examine any piece you find remotely interesting. 

“My brother and I… we don’t talk as much, anymore. Just reminds me of him a lot, I guess.” 

His eyes are trained in front of him so he’s avoiding your gaze and his voice is so soft you’re afraid you might not catch what he says. “Then why are we doing it now?”

“I miss ‘em. My family. Just wanna stop doing this avoidance thing— which is Dean’s thing by the way, not mine— and actually remember them.” He shrugs like his voice isn’t about to crack and his hair isn’t covering his eyes as faces down. You decide to ask a stupid question. A very stupid question.

“Oh, why are you talking about them like they’re gone?” Lesson number two: Sometimes, in life, it’s better to shut up than try and comfort your friend acquaintance. So much better. The most better, no matter how grammatically incorrect that sentence is. Because you just don’t know them well enough, and it’s inevitable to sound like a total dick. 

“They’re… they’re not. Or actually—” oh please no, if one of them is dead, being a ‘dick’ is the least of your worries. “Mum died when I was six months old but I was talking about my dad and Dean, he’s my older brother. We fought when I got accepted into Stanford, dad didn’t exactly approve.” His mother died? You’re a total bitch is what you are. An abomination at best.

“God, Sam, I’m sorry—” You hurry to push out the most sincere apology of your life but he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. You freeze automatically. 

A, there’s a hand on your shoulder. B, it belongs to a guy… from the male species— of men. C, you like Sam and want him to keep touching you.

“Stop, don’t, it’s fine. Mum was a long time ago and dad, guess it’s just the way it is.”

You’d think. You’d believe, that after all of this you would shut up and mind your own business at the very least— but no such luck. You hear yourself asking, “what about Dean?”

“What about him?”

“He's your brother—” It’s as if the universe is on your side because you never get to finish your sentence. A toddler runs over to you to hug your legs so tight you can't move and she’s crying out ‘mama’ too many times for her head not to pound. Yours certainly is. “Hey, hey,” it’s no use, she’s as sure that you’re her mum as you are that Sam is never going to open his mouth around you again.

She starts crying. As if you sold her to the highest bidder and she’s just now finding you again. You would if she keeps holding on and crying like this. 

Sam doesn’t share your same sentiment because he starts cooing at her, leaning down to pick her up. He lifts her in the air and the crying comes to an immediate halt. You love kids, nothing against them— in fact, you cared for your little brother since the second he was born. First to hold him. But right now? When you’re embarrassing yourself to last you a lifetime, your affinity to kids is decreasing ever so slightly. 

“Hey, princess, where’s mommy?” Right here. Is what you want to say, instead you cough a little too obviously, making Sam send a smirk your way. The little girl with two ponytails on each side, she couldn’t be older than five, shakes her head. “You don’t know? Is she here?” He points to you and your eyes widen for only a second before you glare at him. Now that the girl has gotten a better look she shakes her head. The small things you're grateful for. “What’s your name?”

“Rory.” She pouts out but she seems content in Sam’s arm. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder and you’re willing to bet money your heart's beating so fast you might pass out. It’s so heart-warming, he’s so frickin’ good with kids. Why is he so good with kids?

“Okay, Rory, let’s go see where mum is.” He glances at you to make sure you follow him and you make your way to the register. He tells the cashier what’s happening and he announces over the speakers that someone should pick up their child. Sam keeps holding her and glancing at you frequently while he’s playing with her, as if willing you to do something too. 

You won’t. He’s stupid to think you will. It isn’t like you would’ve left her there in the middle of the store if you were alone but you definitely wouldn’t have held up a stranger (even if it’s a child) and then played with her. Bringing her to the lost and found (cashier… whatever) is more than enough.

Her mum picks her up a few minutes after and you’re both checking out with the fireworks in record time, mostly because he grabbed them when you weren’t looking— which really begs the question of how the hell is this man so good at something that sounds illegal? 

Should you be concerned? Yes. Will you be? Probably not. Which is why you keep walking before you ask questions again. It’s bound to happen. It will happen. Exhibit A:

“About your brother, you said you guys don’t talk. Why?”

He doesn’t seem to mind even if it looks like he’s a little sad talking about it. “Oh, it’s nothing. He’s just always traveling and he wasn’t really happy that I went off on my own.”

“That’s a dick move,” you’re a dick, is what he should say to you so you try to save yourself, “I mean that you did a really incredible thing. You got into Stanford on a full scholarship— he should be proud.”

It takes him a second to answer, he’s staring in front of him and it isn’t to avoid your gaze, it’s to come up with a genuine response. And his response is genuine. “He is. Dean’s proud.”

You don’t push it after that, you get a matcha strawberry drink, you both buy some snacks that you don’t open and then Jess calls to see where you are.

“You know,” maybe you don’t want to know. He seems to catch your thought because his smile widens, “this was fun. We should do it again— alone, next time.”  

Is this what being asked out looks like? Should you get Jess to answer for you— maybe you should—

“As in a date, sweetheart. Is that okay?”

If he keeps calling you that then yes.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He says fairly and leans down to kiss your cheek. “Good night.” And then he walks past you to Jess, throwing a quick ‘night Jess’.

“Oh. My. God.” Jess all but sequels next to you as you both walk back to her car.

“You can say that again. I just got my first kiss!” Jess’s eyebrows furrow.

“Oh you poor poor sheltered girl.” Which throws both of you into a hiss of laughter while she leans up against you in victory. You both got what you wanted. Even if you didn’t know you wanted it.

You definitely knew you wanted it.  part three; holding onto thin lines ‘till we just walk between them.

title from: softly by clario

main masterlist

hi guys so here’s the second part, I think it’s gonna be 3 parts because the last two have been 3.5/4k so the last one could be 6/6.5k and I can end it there. Glad you guys like it so far and comment if you wanna be tagged!! & if you’re wondering, yes gen’s faceclaim is gen padalecki our beautiful beautiful girl. her and adri are a power couple.

ALSOOO I REACHED 100 FOLLOWERS I love u guys sm and I’m so glad you like my writing enough to want to follow me and I love talking to you and getting your thoughts on everything so let me know what I should do for 100!!

tag list: @angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403

[anyoneseenadam]

omg can u do smth about the inner circle finding out about reader and azriel’s relationship? maybe they’ve been like secretly dating for a while! ily <3

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: butt ton of fluff

a/n: i made this a part two to this fic! but it can be read separately, i love az sm so i hope you enjoy!! (this has not been proofread sorry lol)

------------------------------------——————————

A week later you were invited up to the house of wind. Azriel was swamped with work and missed you, and since he stayed there most the time he had dragged you in with him.

Currently you were lying in his bed, curled around a long pillow, and sleeping, wearing one of his shirts and your panties while he trained. He had promised you he would introduce you all soon but so far you had been sneaking about the house. A task that was easy for the spymaster, but less so for you.

He had tried to treat it like a holiday. Sneaking you down to the kitchen to bake cookies at midnight and spending nights on the roof, pointing out constellations.

When you had first arrived Azriel had explained what was going on with Nesta and Cassian as he snuck you in. While you were walking up, giggling behind one hand, the other tightly clasped in Azriel’s warm calloused hand, you had run into Nesta. Your eyes had widened meeting her, stomach dropping as she sized you up and down.

“Nesta,” Azriel’s voice calmed you slightly as you wrapped both hands around one of his, moving behind him ever so slightly. “This is my girlfriend; we’ve been dating for about six months and you cannot tell Cassian.”

She had smiled then and reached a hand out to shake yours, “am I the first to find out then?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m (y/n).” You muttered, some confidence coming back.

“Pleasure to meet you, if you ever need someone to bitch too about him come to my room,” she left with a warm smile and you laughed, turning to Azriel.

“I like her,” you said, and he looked down at you frowning.

“Why would you need to bitch about me?” he asked, and you kissed his pout away, pulling his hand to continue onwards.

“Probably cause you smell.” He jabbed your side before picking you up and carrying you over his shoulder into his room, dumping you on the bed and crawling over you.

“Horrible girl,” he muttered, pressing kisses into your neck as he ground his hips down into yours. You giggled into his mouth; the rest of the day spent tangled up in him.

The next few days after that were relaxing. He was always away first thing to train, but you weren’t going to complain when he came back stripping of his clothes, sweaty and flushed but always holding a coffee for you.

The rest of the day would be spent either flying out to walk around shops and see markets in other courts, or sometimes flying over mountains, safe and secure in Azriel’s arms. The day before he had prepared a picnic and taken you to a beautiful field, smiling as you pointed out different kinds of flowers, before he picked a gerbera daisy and pushing it behind your ear, then kissing you so hard you almost fell over.

You woke slightly when Azriel returned, his heart warming when he saw you dozing, engulfed in his scent. He put your coffee next to you and you muttered something inaudible to him, snuggling further into his pillow and smiling sleepily when he pressed a kiss to your head, eyes never opening. He sat by you for a minute and pushed the hair away from your face before deciding he was going to bring you breakfast.

He pressed another kiss to your head before standing, quickly replacing his sweaty clothes, and leaving the room, letting you sleep in. His mind so filled with thoughts of his pretty girl and the smile she would give him when she woke up that he didn’t notice that Cassian wasn’t in the kitchen at his usual time.

You on the other hand noticed it pretty quickly, waking suddenly when the door slammed open, a man’s voice that you didn’t recognise asking your absent lover a question.

The well-built man stopped suddenly when you sat up in bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to work out what to say.

“You’re not Azriel.” He stated, realising that the strange girl he saw was covered in his brothers’ scent. And was wearing his brothers’ clothes. And drinking coffee from his brothers’ mug.

“Yes I am.” You said on impulse, shaking your head at your own stupidity but relaxing when the man you presumed was Cassian relaxed.

“Who are you?” he asked, a smile breaking out on his face when he realised who you were.

“Umm I’m (y/n), Azriel’s girlfriend.” You sat up straighter, pulling the covers tighter over you as you realised you were half dressed.

Cassian’s eyes lit up and he ran to your side, sitting in front of you and cheering. “Tell me everything! How did you guys meet? What do you do? How long have you been together?” he bombarded you with questions and you laughed nervously, silently preying that Azriel would return soon.

“Uhh we’ve been together for about six months and I own a flower shop, that’s where we met,” you explained to him when the door flew open again, another tall, dark haired man running in with three women. You recognised your high lord and lady and blushed bright red as they stared at you, smiling so widely.

“We came as fast as we could.” Rhys explained, introducing himself, his wife and Amren and Morrigan. They all crowded you and you moved back slightly, feeling the panic rise in you as they all asked you a million questions.

They were all kind, but so excited that their friend had gotten a girlfriend they were acting slightly insane. You tried to answer their questions, but they were coming so fast that your breathing began to pick up slightly, insecurities rising as you realised that you had just woken up. Your hair was probably a mess, and you hadn’t even washed your face, and you were in an old t-shirt and probably smelt bad.

You looked up when Azriel walked in, his eyes widening at the sight of his entire family in your room.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked as his family turned to him instead, asking him a million questions, Cassian practically in tears that he hadn’t been told.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your arm, turning to see Feyre smiling at you, “I’m sorry if we freaked you out a bit,” she said and you went to deny but she continued, “it can be a but much I know I went through similar, except for me it wasn’t eight in the morning!” her voice raised at the end and Rhysand turned around sheepishly.

“You’re right, my deepest apologies,” he said, still unable to keep the smile off his face, “Come to ours for dinner this evening.”

You smiled at him, nodding as your knee bounced to get rid of the anxious energy, muttering goodbye as Feyre and Rhys dragged their family out the room.

“I love you!” Cassian called over his shoulder and you laughed, eyes filling with tears you were trying to hold back.

“Cauldron baby I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Azriel asked and you nodded at him laughing at yourself as you cried.

“I’m okay, really. They were all so nice.” You assured him as he put down the tray he was holding and wrapping his arms around you.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, his hands gentle as they wiped the stray tears.

“I cry at everything, the other day I cried because someone said they liked my dress,” you laughed and he shook his head, laughing with you.

“You’re in touch with your emotions,” he reasoned,

“I’m a baby. A baby with no social skills that gets overwhelmed very easily,” His shoulders shook with laughter as he lay the two of you down, “I haven’t even had my coffee yet and that was so much social interaction.” You complained, wiping your eyes as you calmed down.

He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead gently, “Are you up for seeing them properly tonight?” he asked, holding you so gently.

“Yeah it’ll be nice,” you assured him, “plus I do think me, and Cassian have to discuss our shared love for you. I think we might start a fan club.”

Azriel laughed, “If you say so.”

“I really do by the way. Love you I mean. Like I love you so much it makes me stupid, when I’m bored I just think about you and things we could do, and it makes me so happy.” You raised yourself up to look down at him as you spoke, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as he smiled dopily up at you.

“I love you so ridiculously much too.” You sat up together, your back pressed against his chest as he passed you your coffee and the breakfast he had prepared the two of you.

The stress of tonight could come later, you were just content to spend the rest of your morning in his arms.

[lilacprincessofrecovery]

A Stark Halloween Party // Tony Stark x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1788 Warning: Light insecurity

There's this one girl. She wasn't a girl. She was a woman. She was bigger than other women. She was different. She loved herself. That's what drew big time tech billionare Tony Stark to her. He liked that she was confident. She was sometimes sarcastic under her breath when she thought no one could hear her. Tony realized that she was very similar to him. Tony didn't treat her like he treated Pepper. Pepper had actually decided to go to a law firm instead of working with Tony.

He knew y/n would be slower than Pepper in heels. He would only order her to stand beside him and write his work notes while he was in his lab. She would make him laugh. That wasn't easy for him since the New York incident. He loved to see her every day at 10am. Being confident was a great thing to be around Tony Stark.

Another thing about him, Tony always loved parties. No disaster would get him down when it came to a celebration or charity. Halloween was a big shen-dig for him. He was a man who liked costumes, too. He made everyone's costumes better yet he had someone else make the costumes; not that he didn't have an idea of the costumes but he couldn't sew. He decided after the computer generated the costumes to go and switch them up himself and give everyone Tony Stark appointed costumes.

He had called everyone in the compound to the main conference room. Everyone was surprised that Tony called everyone since there was nothing on the news or on the tv monitors hanging around the place, lately. He explained that he wanted to throw a Halloween bash. He started giving everyone their costumes and that their outfits will be sent to them when they get made. It was 2 weeks until Halloween. He could do it. He even thought about making them dress up as each other but after he chuckled about that he decided to go with traditional costumes.

Tony named off announcing the costumes explaining he used a generator so they won't guess he chose legitimately to give him and y/n similar matching costumes. or get annoyed if they didn't like the costumes he picked.

Steve. Sailor.

Natasha. Angel.

Y/n. Princess.

Clint. Ghost Face.

Thor. Pro Wrestler.

Peter Parker. Vampire.

Sam. Police Officer.

Scott. Devil.

Rhodey. Storm Trooper.

Wanda. Jessica Rabbit. (Mostly because of the hair)

Vision. Michael Myers.

Bucky. Werewolf.

Happy. Superman.

Loki. Plague Doctor.

and himself. Prince Charming.

It was a bit harder than he thought to give them all costumes. They all practically live in costumes. He chose the most ironic costumes he could. He however made sure he and y/N were matching. He wouldn't tell he didn't generate the costumes. Only FRIDAY knows.

Once everyone got their costumes, they're of course was arguements of why they got the costume they got. Tony rolled his eyes. "Deal with it." He smiled at y/N and went and left to go to his office. He ordered a famous designer to create the costumes except the princess one. He wanted to design that one himself.

"I can't believe I'm even coming to this party," Loki complained.

"Your face will be covered, Brother," Thor responded.

Loki groaned.

"I am stronger than any wrestler," Thor thinks. "I do not trust technology."

Steve looked at Natasha. "I considered joining the marines. I preferred to be an army soldier though."

Natasha was in shock and crossed her arms. "I am no angel. I would rather be a ninja."

Steve chuckles, "Tony's not going to change his mind."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "I blame the computer more than him."

Wanda looked to Steve and Natasha, "My costume is the most sexist outfit..."

Vision looks at her with a soft smile, "I would love to see you in that costume."

Wanda then forgets all her worries about being so sexy and caresses his cheek, "You ok with your costume babe?"

Vision nods, "I will wear whatever is given. I haven't ever celebrated Halloween before."

Wanda smiles, "Ok."

Vision tilts his head, "Who is Michael Myers?"

Wanda calmly describes the psycho to him.

Vision thinks, "I see..." He said that a lot.

Scott looks to Clint, "I'm just glad to be a part of this team."

Clint nodded, "I was going to take my kids trick-or-treating this year..."

Scott laughed, "Well maybe it won't be on actual Halloween."

Clint nodded, "Hope so." He wasn't too fond of his costume. The devil? Really? He disapproved.

Natasha looked at Clint, "Really? you think you got it bad? I've never worn a dress before. A white one at that."

"Computers aren't against you," Happy interrupted Nat and Clint.

Happy liked the idea of being Superman. Finally, he is a superhero like everyone else around him.

Happy looked at Peter who was over excited for being invited to his first Avenger/Tony/"Adult" party. "Are you alright kid?"

Peter nods and flops down on the couch. "Oh yeah. I am excited! I also love that Tony is making our costumes. He always makes me great costumes. You think I can invite MJ? and/or Ned? Do you think Mr. Stark would mind?"

Happy shrugged, "I don't think he would mind."

Bucky was quiet standing in a corner not caring either which way. but trying to think of what a werewolf costume would look like.

Rhodey thought a storm trooper would be cool. Star Wars is a classic afterall.

Sam was neutral about his outfit. He didn't care one way or another about being a police officer. He was trying to imagine himself in it. He could be a police officer. He loved helping people and saving the day. He felt like a police officer anyway. Just with the metal wings.

y/N was being quiet. She was worried now that her costume wouldn't fit once Tony gives it to her. Talk about embarassing. She hurriedly rushed up to her room to avoid anyone else. She wasn't an insecure person since middle school. She was surprised her confidence was currently faltering.

"Looks like the computer thinks you and I should match," She bumps into Tony.

"Tony... I didn't see you... sorry," y/n told him.

"Are you alright?" Tony arched his brow.

"I was wondering if... maybe I could pick my own costume. I mean I'll still be a princess... I just..."

"What are you afraid of... you don't want to match with me?"

"Tony... I'm not feeling well. I am going to my room," She left.

"Hmm... hey... y/N, wait!" Tony didn't understand why she wasn't happy or glad they matched.

She looked in the mirror and immediately went to bed after sighing loudly. She needed to get her mind off of the party. She wasn't even happy that she was even invited to one of the biggest shen-digs of the year.

She was very quiet during her work the following days. Tony was concerned. He had FRIDAY keep an eye on her for him. She was just anxious and didn't try to keep up with him anymore. She wasn't even wearing heels anymore.

The costumes came in from the designer. Tony already had everyone's measurements so he had sent them out. He didn't have y/n's so he tried scientifically to decide the size of her costume. She would never tell him or let him near her with a measuring tape. She would rather disappear than have ANY of the Avenger's Family know her size, especially Tony. She had a crush on her boss. Who wouldn't? He was Tony Freaking Stark. Tall, dark, handsome, rich, smart, and a superhero.

Everyone is glad how their costumes turned out. They fit just right and were amazing. Tony definitely appreciated the styles and the designs worth every penny. Everyone was happy with their costumes.

The night of the party y/n didn't come to the party hall. He went to her room and knocked on the door. She was crying on the edge of her bed with the dress in her lap, makeup running down her cheeks. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I can't fit it."

"W... did you try it on?" She shrugs then sighs and shakes her head. "No..."

Tony just stared at her. "O....k. Come on I'll help you. If I have to wear poofy sleeves you have to wear the poofy dress."

She blushed nodding and stood up and he helped her dress into her costume, sucking in her stomach as much as she could so he doesn't see her 'girth'.

As a Prince and Princess, Tony and the reader smiling

"You look sexy in that costume," Tony smiled softly at her.

She blushed deep, "You're drunk and that's inappropriate Mr. Stark..."

"Call me Tony. Please... You've been here for 6 months... You're always with me. You know me better than anyone... You have pretty hair, y/n... and such soft, delicate figure... You are so beautiful. Now will you come downstairs and be with me at the party?"

She giggled, "We are at the party."

He smiled, "I made sure we matched."

"What...really?"

He nodded, "I wanted to be with you. I chose all the costumes. The generator was just me. Don't tell." He laughed. "You are my date on purpose."

y/N's eyes widened, "You wanted me to look like a giant marshmallow?"

Tony looked offended, "I wanted you to be mine."

"Wait... like me... and you?"

"Me and you..."

"What why? I'm not as hot as the other women you..."

"NEVER say you are less than anyone else. Where's the y/N I am used to that doesn't care what others think about how she looks? and Especially bimbos from my past. They don't matter. It's the past. This is the future." He takes her hand and puts a palm against her palm and smiles down at her.

" You know... you are such a catch. I'm attracted to you and all your beauty and snark. Yeah, I notice you. You have an old timey type of beauty like a princess... and I am your Prince. Well, I would call myself a King. You do everything for me. You know me better than anyone has ever..."

"He is so egotistical," Bucky said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "She is a Queen. My queen; not a princess."

Steve smiled soft. "She is sweet as can be. Princess was a perfect outfit for her. She better watch out for him. He will corrupt her." He laughs.

y/n grinned wide at Tony insecurities all gone and leans up and kisses him. "My Tony?"

"My y/N..." Tony kisses back passionately.

Everyone claps.

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (21)

all parts here

_

“Don’t tempt me,” Matthew chuckled and headed down the hall toward his bedroom, “you’re definitely not ready for that yet,” he called behind him. 

He was gone for a few minutes, leaving you standing alone in his living room and feeling weird about it. You didn’t really lie about your intentions, because you did want him, but you were still hung up on letting other people know about it. 

“Here,” he tossed a ball of clothing at you, “to wear back to your place.”

You unraveled the clump of clothing and took note of the Flames tee shirt with his name on the back and the pair of sweatpants with his number printed down the side.

“Wow, no one’s going to know where I came from with these clothes, thank you for the disguise.” 

“I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re wearing my name and number and I want to take you out, for real this time. No bullshit, no me showing up drunk and acting like an asshole. I want to take you out on real date.”

You wanted it, you wanted that real date so badly but you still weren’t ready to share your situation with the world. 

“Matt, I…” your response died in your mouth and you felt incredibly stupid wearing clothing with him literally written all over it.

“It can be just us and it will be here. I’ll do everything, all you have to do is show up.”

*

He was practically begging at that point but it was worth it, she was worth it. 

“Just show up? That’s it?”

Matt watched her closely, hoping she’d agree, but there was no describing how he felt when he saw her wearing his clothes, with his name and his number sewed into the fabric.

Holy fuck. He had been waiting for this. He had been waiting for someone to come into his life that was everything he wanted and more. He had been waiting for someone to become a constant, someone that was more than just a night of fun, someone that actually meant something.

He had no idea she would come in the form of someone who initially hated him and still probably might just a little bit, but he wasn’t bothered by that. Matthew knew what he wanted, and as much as his past self might have argued, he had always known. Soulmates were probably bullshit but if they weren’t, he was pretty sure who his was. 

“That’s it, I promise.”

“Fine.” 

“You want me to walk you back to yours?”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure your name on my back will give everyone a pretty good indication of who I’m with.”

“You’re with me?”

Her cheeks lit up red but she rolled her eyes and gently slapped him on the shoulder, “your name is on my back. I’m also pretty sure I can make the hike to the elevator by myself, good morning, Matthew Tkachuk.”

He never planned on falling in love, but he knew she was special and it just kind of happened.

*

You didn’t immediately strip out of the clothing Matt had given you and that was the first indication that you needed to fucking cool it. You pulled the sleeve of the shirt to your nose and inhaled the smell of his fabric softener. 

“Ugh,” you looked down at Onyx rubbing against your legs, “he uses the expensive shit.”

It had been an interesting morning but you needed to get to work and get your shit together.

++

You were running late to work and to make matters worse, you had a meeting with the coaches that you were incredibly close to missing. Nearly sprinting into the conference room at the last minute, you took your seat and a calming breath. The meeting was mostly a blur until you were addressed directly. 

“You’re being presented with a new opportunity.”

*

Matt had yet to see her that day but he’d been hearing that she was supposed to have a meeting so he hung around the general area of the conference rooms, hoping to catch her after it was over. She arrived in a rush and gave him a quick wave before heading inside. He wasn’t invited into the conference room but he was able to look through the window and he saw the look of surprise on her face and he knew what was happening.

She was being presented with a new job, and it wasn’t with the Flames.

Just when they were starting to finally fucking figure it out, she was going to be ripped away from him. He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t lose her. If she was going to leave, he was going to follow her. 

*

The pay was only slightly better than your current salary but taking a job with the Philadelphia Flyers would bring you closer to home and that was definitely something to think about. Taking a job with the Flyers was mostly full of pros but there was only a single con that mattered— Matthew Tkachuk.

He was waiting outside the conference room, dressed in full uniform, and he looked about as stressed as you felt.

“What the fuck are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be on the ice?” 

“Yeah, but I heard you had a meeting and I had to know what was up.”

“Matt, you’re literally on skates and in pads, go to practice.” 

“What happened in your meeting?”

“Go to practice,” you pushed past him and headed toward your office but he wasn’t giving up. 

“You’re leaving aren’t you?”

That stopped you dead in your tracks but you couldn’t turn around and face his question. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

*

“I haven’t decided yet.”

It wasn’t his place to say anything and it definitely wasn’t his business but that didn’t stop him from grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around to face him.

“Don’t leave. Please?”

“Matt, I don’t know, I haven’t made any decisions.”

He wasn’t interested in her response and ignored it entirely, instead pulling her into his chest and pressing his lips against hers. They moved in sync for only a moment until she was pushing him away. 

“You can’t just do that! I could lose my job! Fucking go to practice, Matt!”

++

She was well aware of their date. He had made sure of it. 

She was also fourteen minutes late and he was starting to get worried that she wouldn’t show. Maybe he had fucked up too many times for her to let it go, maybe she had taken the job with the Flyers and she was already gone. 

Matt paced back and forth in his living room, freaking the fuck out, until a soft knock at his door interrupted his negative thoughts.

“Hi, Matt.” 

“Hey. I didn’t think you were coming.” 

“I’m sorry for being late. The Calgary Flames don’t care if you have plans outside of work.”

“I get it, experience and all, come on in.”

He noticed right away that she was wearing a pair of jeans and the shirt he had given her with his name on the back. 

“I like your shirt, good number and solid name.”

“You think? I like the name but I kinda wish the number was a seven instead.”

“Fuck you,” they both laughed at that as Matt lead her into the kitchen. 

“You’re fucking kidding?”

“I'm not.” 

“Holy shit.” 

*

The spread in front of you was everything you could ever want. Matt had pulled out all the stops and gotten takeout from your favorite diner, Mexican restaurant, Italian place, and Taco Bell. There was more than enough food to feed the entire Flames team. 

“I wasn’t sure what you like, so I made sure there were a lot of options.”

“Are you lying?”

You looked up at him and noticed his cheeks flush as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “yeah. I might have asked around.” 

“We’ll never be able to eat all of this.”

“I know. I was thinking that, if you’re fine with it, we invite some of the guys and their partners over later. Only if you’re cool with it though, I said it would be just us and I meant it.”

If you agreed, this would be your coming out party with Matt. Everyone would know that you were some sort of something and you still weren’t sure if you were ready for it. 

“We’ll see, I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. We’re on your terms tonight.” 

This was not the man you met two years ago. This was not the man with a shitty attitude and a chip on his shoulder that he took out on everyone. This was not the man that told you to sleep on the floor because he wouldn’t get into bed unless you did. 

This was a different man entirely. 

This was a different Matthew Tkachuk and you kind of hated how much you really fucking liked him. 

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Regeneration Potion (Plat!C!Tommyinnit x Witch!F!Reader)

TW: Mentions of Dream's actions during Tommy's exile INCLUDING his un alive moment. YES I KNOW TUBBO CAN HAVE MORE THAN ONE FRIEND. SHUSH. PLOT.

Reader wears a dress most of the time. Also Tommy is around 17 (I forgot his canon age sorry)

I might make this a series!

☆Tommy P.O.V☆

His hotel was taken over.. His house was practically empty.. He was stared at everywhere he went.. His best friend replaced him instantly without much of a second thought.. His brother was dead, his other brother probably wanted to spill his guts for switching sides... He had... Nothing...

He had died for God's sake! Sure, he didn't expect people to immediately bawl their eyes out at the news, but he didn't expect to be brushed off so damn quick! He didn't expect the person he betrayed his brother for to replace him so quickly! He didn't... he... Was... Tubbo really his friend? He exiled him without checking up on him... He... He moved on so.. quick..

Standing over the giant crater once known as L'manberg, now covered with a thick sheet of glass... He wrapped his arms around himself and gave a sigh. In the distance, he could see Ranboo and Tubbo running around, most likely gathering materials for Sam Nook...

Gritting his teeth tightly, he felt a familiar burning behind his eyes before he stood up from a pile of dirt he claimed as a temporary chair. It took all of his power not to scream in emotional agony as he stormed away from the sight of his old best friend with someone else who he claimed as his new bestfriend.

Don't turn back...

With a few iron ingots and a low durability netherite sword to his name, Tommy walked as quickly as he could away from the memories. The sacrifices. The pain. The lonely feeling...

He had easily walked for a few hours, trying his hardest to find an area completely secluded from everything and everyone.

If they moved on once... They can move on twice..

He wanted to hold on.. He wanted to keep every little memory and object that he found comforting... But now... Everything he looked at caused a sharp pain to jolt through his heart...

He glanced up at the biome around him, only to frown slightly. It was a Dark Forest... But there was many problems..

He knew there were some large mushrooms, but he had never seen massive flowers bigger than a mansion! Everything... Felt weird... Somethings were incredibly varied in sizes! He spun around in awe as he stared at the different sized flowers and mushrooms scattered around him. Then... fear struck into his heart again...

Wilbur... He told him a story about a forest far to the north of L'manberg... Trees bigger than the eye could see, mushrooms taller than a house or smaller than a fingernail, flowers being anywhere from a millimeter tall to miles high into the air, all because of the land was protected by a Witch.

In the story, Wilbur said that only the lost and lonely would find that forest out of desperation to find salvation...

The Forest of the Forgotten...

His lips parted in surprise and he spun around to exit the land, in fear of upsetting the witch... Only to find a silhouette standing against the light a few inches away from him.

A not so manly scream tore from his throat and he hurriedly threw himself backwards, raising his arms above his head as he landed on the ground, "I'm sorry, Dream! I promise not to wander off again! Please don't take my stuff! Please I don't have anything left! Please...! Please!" He begged, tears spilling from his eyes as he scrambled backwards until he hit a tree. Tommy didn't even hear the foot steps wandering closer until a purple light rose into view.

He took a few gasps for air as he slowly lowered his hands. 'Dream's in prison. He's not here. He's not gonna hurt you again..' He carefully rose his gaze, only to see...

A young woman... She looked... Around his age!

She was kneeling on the ground a few feet away from him, just... Watching him. A black pointy hat was balanced on her (h/l) (h/c) hair that was nicely framing her (s/t) face. Her eyes were analyzing his every movement as they surged with purple flames... But they weren't threatening or violent... They were curious but calm..

He stared at her for a solid few seconds before realizing that the soft purple glow was coming from a ball of coloured fire in her hand. Mesmerized by the energy, Tommy hardly noticed when a dull pink glow appeared in his vision, only when the woman made effort to talk, did he notice.

"I... Don't know who Dream is.. But, I'm not here to take your stuff. That's a promise." She smiled softly, and moved her hand that held the pink glow closer to him. It... Was a Regeneration Potion. "Here, you look a little... Uhm... How do I say this nicely... Torn up...?"

Tommy couldn't hold back a frown as he rubbed his eyes free of tears. He forgot that his injuries from Dream hadn't healed yet... And probably wouldn't be healed for a long time. "Thanks... I guess.." He grumbled in an attempt to save whatever dignity he had left.

While he was considered naive, he wasn't stupid. He knew not to trust strangers immediately, so he uncorked the bottle and smelt it as he analyzed the colour to make sure it was really regeneration potion. At first, he wasn't going to drink it, but he quickly remembered that it wasn't like he had anything to lose, so he took a small sip.

It was dangerously sweet, much sweeter than Phil or Techno's potions, but it definitely wasn't awful and it for certain wasn't poison. He rolled his shoulders as he continued to sip at the potion while she stood up.

Dusting her black robe and dark (f/c) dress of any dirt, despite them being already dirty and a bit tattered, the (h/c) woman stood up and continued to clean the dirt off. "It will be getting dark soon... I'm not much of a fighter, so I will not be able to fend for the both of us if need be. Do you have a shelter nearby or would you like to seek refuge with me for the night?"

Did this crazy woman not know the meaning of stranger danger?

☆Your P.O.V☆

No matter how much you threw yourself into your studies, the looming loneliness never seemed to leave you..

Keeping to your daily routine, you begrudgingly lifted yourself out of bed and sat down at your vanity, glaring at your reflection that bared knotted hair and sleepy (e/c) eyes. Your non dominant hand stretched out towards your closet and watched as your irises lit up a bright surging purple, activating your magic. Your dominant hand began to run a brush through your hair while your other hand controlled the magic that was currently being used to sort through the row of clothes in your closet. Once you found an outfit that you deemed adequate, you made a quick gesture with your hand that caused the clothing to float onto your bed.

It didn't take very long to get ready, I mean, come on, you were in a large forest miles away from the closest village! It's not like you were going to be seeing anyone for a few more centuries.

Your house was cozy and rather small, but it housed you and your black cat Salem comfortably. It was nice and quiet where you lived.. Albeit dark and lonely..

The trees often covered the sun and prevented you from knowing what time it was, but you had stopped caring about the date long ago. It never mattered to you anyway.

"Yeah, yeah. Quit meowing. You act like you haven't eaten in a year." You rolled your eyes at the dramatic feline as you prepared your own breakfast first. Salem kept meowing loudly, standing beside her food bowl and swatting it every so often until you used your magic to toss a fish to her. "You done with your whining now? Big baby."

You rolled your eyes as you sat down with your bowl and quickly ate the fruits you had sliced up. Downside to living here, you primarily survived off of fruits and berries because animals rarely wandered into the forest, and if they did, well you kept them for their resources like milk or eggs or wool.

With a small sigh, you got up and washed your bowl, via magic so you didn't have to feel the burning sensation of the water on your skin, as you contemplated what you were going to do today.

Eventually you decided on going to walk through the forest to find more animals or scavenge for more fruits. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you double checked that it was stocked up with healing and regeneration potions just in case, only to throw your shoes on. Waving good bye to your lazy annoying cat, that you still love regardless, you shut the door and walked down the path.

The silence was normal... But god it was deafening when something stepped on a branch or when one of your chickens decided to give a particularly loud squawk, but it did indeed heighten your senses.

Giving a sigh, you rose your hand and a purple pulse flew from your hand then trailed down your body and travelled through the forest. Your magic didn't detect anything out of the ordinary except for once thing near the entrance.

"Ah.. God.. Please don't be a zombie.. I'm not a fighter.." You whispered under your breath before setting off towards the untouched and overgrown entrance of the forest.

Arriving to the main path, you looked over a little bit to see a tall blond male spinning around in absolute awe of the forest.

He then took a sharp breath and spun around, almost immediately coming face to face with you. The loudest scream you had ever heard left the boy and he quickly stumbled backwards until he fell to the ground and hit a tree, "I'm sorry, Dream! I promise not to wander off again! Please don't take my stuff! Please I don't have anything left! Please...! Please!" He practically cried apologies while he curled into a wall.

'What kind of reaction was that?!' You thought curiously as you kneeled down a few feet in front of him. Assuming that the dark had freaked him out, you summoned a ball of fire and held it out, using the time to study the strange boy. His dirty shirt was ripped and torn in several places, his skin was decorated with mud, soot, cuts, bruises and scars and his cheeks were damp with tears. His breath was turning into gasps as his thin frame shook violently.

"Hey... Are you okay?"

He didn't seem to hear as he began murmuring quietly to himself, rocking back and forth a small bit to calm himself down. After a few moments, he lowered his arms and stared blankly at the magic in your palm.

Seeing the injuries on his pale skin, you dug into your bag and pulled out a glowing pink potion before holding it out to him. He didn't seem to notice it until you cleared your throat. "I... Don't know who Dream is.. But, I'm not here to take your stuff. That's a promise." You smiled as politely as possible, and moved your hand that held the potion closer to him. "Here, you look a little... Uhm... How do I say this nicely... Torn up...?"

The male grumbled a bit under his breath but looked genuinely thankful as he took a small sip of the potion. After deeming it wasn't poisoned, he began to take larger drinks of it.

"It will be getting dark soon... I'm not much of a fighter, so I will not be able to fend for the both of us if need be. Do you have a shelter nearby or would you like to seek refuge with me for the night?"

Honestly... The face he made amused you quite a bit...

[migilini]

Hiiii! I liked how you did the road trip one shot and was wondering if you could do a request for Charlie Gillespie where the reader and Charlie are dating but have been living in different states due to COVID and the boys do an Instagram live and the reader wants to be on the live with them and Charlie gets so excited and it’s fluffy?

So far apart - Charlie Gillespie

A/N: ofc i can! Thank you so much, hope you like it :) I will proofe read it tomorrow.

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist

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Tiredness was your new default state. College alone was stressful and hard enough plus it didn't help that you had to do it online from your little NY appartement that you shared with three other roommates. But you had too. You were in your last semester ever! That was motivation enough to pull through.

Currently you were trying to facetime your boyfriend Charlie. You haven't seen him in about four months but if someone would ask your roommates, they would say it felt like an eternity of you moaning and pouting about not seeing him. When COVID started, the two of you seriously debated about moving in together. However, at that time, your classes were not online yet and you couldn't move away, he also couldn't move to New York with you because he still had meetings with the JATP Cast.

You stared at your ringing phone, desperate to hear his voice. You knew that he should be awake, you had the time zones imprinted on your brain.

Sorry babe, have a meeting in 5… Will call you after okay? <3 the message that just popped up on your screen made you frown a little. You weren't mad, you just had a really awful week and missed him like crazy.

Sure thing <3 yout texted back and threw the phone onto your bed. Deciding that instead of waiting for him to call back, you could use the time usefully and start studying for your next test in two days. 

It was an hour later, you were completely engrossed in the textbook, so you barely heard the ringing of your phone. Maybe a bit too quick, you tossed all your books to the ground and launched yourself on the bed to find your phone. 

His pretty face filled your screen “Heyyy!” “Hello beautiful!” You two grinned at each other.

“How are--” A knocking on your door interrupted your question. “Yes?” The door opened and revealed one of your roommates Alexis with a sheepish look on her face “I’m really sorry to interrupt but Tara just broke off with her boyfriend and she needs a hug.”

You looked up at your red haired friend “She broke up with Tom?!” Alexis nodded “It's an emergency” she claimed. Charlie understood this as his clue to end the call saying a quick goodbye and a don't worry about it, when you shot him an apologetic look. 

This is how it went nearly every time. Something always came up, either you were studying non-stop and he didn't want to distract you or he had actor things and meetings going on. It was truly tiring. The last time you really had the opportunity to facetime was a couple weeks ago and even then you fell asleep inert 15minutes. When Charlie accidentally lulled you to sleep with a song he's been working on. 

Still the two of you made it work. Charlie had started writing you weekly letters with his perfume on it. And you being your crafty self, sent him a little care package with letters, some self made food and paintings, every now and then.

You just finished all your tests and essays for this semester and you felt free again. Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom window and put your school books away. Sinking down on your bed, you closed your eyes temporarily, enjoying the moment. You got up again to get yourself something to eat and a coffee. Your roommates were currently away, probably getting groceries or books at the College Library.

You mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, the sandwich you made yourself still laying next to you on the nightstand. Ever since Julie and the Phantoms released, the cast's accounts blew up like crazy and Charlie always showed you off like a queen so of course people found your page as well. You didn't mind though. Most of the people were really nice and respecting, protecting your relationship from all the not so nice guys

You just answered some DM’s, chuckling at a meme that Maddie had sent you, when you got a notification that Owen was live. Naturally you clicked on it, knowing that Charlie most likely will be in the live as well, due to the fact that he was currently at Owen’s with Jeremy.

You were one of the first ones. Owen grinned when he saw your name come up in the chat. 

“Guten Morgen everybody.” You chuckled when you heard your boyfriend singing in the background, writing in the chat that Owen should say hi to Charlie. “Are all of you streaming JATP?” he asked the live audience while you nodded to yourself, your laptop open beside you. It was a bit embarrassing to admit how often you saw the show, but every time you felt lonely you watched it. It had some really cute guys in it after all.

He read the chat “Do you like watching the show you participated in? Thats a good question. Charlie, Charlie! I have a question for you.” The camera turned and it showed the canadian boy you fell in love with. 

“Eh…” he said as he walked into the kitchen, Owen following close. “It was very weird at first. Guess I'm more used to it now.” he answered honestly. You weren't even listening, you just stared at your phone in trance, the light making him look so incredibly pretty.

Suddenly you got an invitation to join the live from Owen. You sat up a bit straighter and blinked a few times before accepting. 

“Helloooooo!” he screamed, making you laugh. “Hi Owen. Yall are up early.”

“Yeah… you know Char. That dumb early riser.” he complained. “Yeah I feel you. Though he lets me sleep so he must love me more than he loves you.” you teased making Owen pout in a childish way.

“Charlie! Who do you love more, me or y/n?” the statement made your boyfriend laugh and for a moment your breath hitched, it was music in your ears and once again you realised how much you missed it.

“I’m really sorry bud, but definitely y/n…I want to...” Charlie just wanted to explain why when he heard your chuckling from Owen’s phone. “See told ya.” It was truly a blessing that the camera was still turned to your boyfriend, making it easy for you to see his reaction. He nearly let the fork he was holding fall out of his hand, his eyes widening while his mouth grew into a big grin. “Is that y/n?” he asked cautiously. Apparently Owen nodded, because before you knew, the camera turned and you were face to face with your boyfriend. 

“Baby!” he screamed, a wide, toothy smile on his lips. “How dare you go on live with Owen but not with me!” he jokes. “How was the history test? As hard as you thought it would be?” you cut off his rambling “Hi! Nice to see you too. No, it was way harder than I expected. Let's hope for the best, I get the results sometime next week”

“I bet you killed that test baby! No, Owen you don't get the phone back… I don't care that it's your live.” The chat was freaking out over Charlie's happiness by just seeing you, talking about how they want love like that.

“Little explanation for everybody. Me and Charlie haven't really been able to facetime so were just really excited right now. Sorry if it's boring.” you explained to the chat. 

“Don’t ever say that ever again.” he said in a serious tone “it's not boring.” you held your hands up in surrender. “Sorry sorry. Can I talk to Owen again? I mean he is the one who invited me.” you teased, poking your tongue out. With a pout he gave the phone back to Owen.

“Are you also streaming the show today?” he asked you. Charlie was in the background, looking at you over Owens shoulder, making silly faces. “Of course! Who do you think I am? I’ve been watching it everyday since it came out.” Owens' face fell “You're kidding… that doesn't… that doesn't seem healthy.” you shrugged “Well i don't really care. I have this massive crush on someone from the show, just can't get enough of him.” 

The camera shook and a couple crunts later you were once again faced with Charlie. “I sure hope it's me or you're not allowed to wear that shirt anymore.” he pointed to the shirt you were currently wearing and that was in fact one of his.

“Not gonna tell you babe. My mouth is shut.” you winked, making him blush. “I miss you.” he blurted out with puppy eyes. “I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you.” he grinned at that excited for the surprise he had planned. 

“I think i'm gonna go, let you guys actually comment on the show. I love you Charlie.” You sent him a kiss and he pretended to catch it with his free hand.

“Eww that's so cheesy.” Owen muttered from somewhere in the back.

“I love you too.”

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

That last fic was really sweet! Would you possibly be willing to do a continuation with BokuAka and KageHina perspectives? x

Why So Mean? 

Pairing: sick Kageyama, caretaker Hinata

Word Count: 5,625

Warnings: vomiting, swearing, meanie kageyama :(

————————————————————

Hello hello! Long time no see :)

ABSO-FREAKING-LUTELY I WILL DO THIS. You and another asked for this and I’m SO HYPE ABOUT IT. So thank you!! I’ll answer the other ask with the Akaashi part :)

My timeline w the Kuroo chapter (& most likely the Akaashi one once it’s fully written) do not line up with this one at all. Please just ignore that and pretend it all makes sense. Thank you much appreciated.

If you prefer reading on ao3, check it out here!

Kuroo Part

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Kageyama was being a jerk today.

Well...a bigger jerk than normal anyway.

Things were fine up until about the middle of afternoon practice. In fact, Kageyama was almost unnervingly nice to Hinata until that afternoon.

When Hinata woke him up, he didn’t grumble or swear at him (he was almost pleasant!). He pecked the top of Hinata’s head in a cute sleepy haze on his way to the bathroom (PDA? Even with the risk of someone catching them?!). He even let Hinata pick off his plate at breakfast (without smacking his hand away or swearing!).

However, something must have set his boyfriend off. He was being cold, ignoring Hinata’s complaints and questions. He was almost completely silent while they were playing. It was freaking Hinata out.

During their practice matches, Kageyama was consistently flawless as usual, Hinata was really on his game, and the other spikers were in good form as well. His foul mood couldn’t be because they weren’t playing well.

It also couldn’t be because anyone picked a fight with him either. Kageyama got along with most of the players at these training camps. He even did serve practice with some players from Shinzen and Ubugawa last night when Hinata went to practice with Bokuto and Kuroo.

So when Hinata couldn’t figure it out himself, he marched up to Kageyama during a water break and demanded to know what was wrong.

“Hey! What’s up with you today?”

“Hah?” Kageyama asked sharply, glaring down at Hinata.

“You’ve been really quiet for the last two hours and you’re being a butthead right now!” Hinata snapped back. He wasn’t backing down when he knew he was right. He knew something was bothering Kageyama. He just had to find out what it was and then he could try and make things better for him.

Kageyama blinked at him for a few seconds before his face melted into a deeper-than-normal- scowl. It was more...confused than angry though. Hinata thought that he was about to relent and finally tell him what was wrong.

Instead he scoffed and walked away.

Hinata’s jaw dropped as he watched his boyfriend walk away. How dare he?

He clenched his fists and scoffed as well.

For the rest of their practice matches, Hinata and Kageyama avoided any non-volleyball related interactions. However, by the end of their last game, Kageyama looked so pitiful that Hinata couldn’t find it in himself to be angry anymore.

Instead, he sat beside Kageyama who plopped himself heavily onto the floor as soon as they finished their penalty lap. He was leaning against the wall, panting.

Hinata turned his head to observe him. He was sweaty and breathless as to be expected. Hinata was also trying to catch his breath and wipe away the sweat before it dripped in his eyes. What was unexpected was the pale tint to his skin, probably barely noticeable to other people. But Hinata, who spent an exorbitant amount of time studying Kageyama’s face, noticed.

His eyes scanned Kageyama’s face and saw the near imperceptible blush rising to his cheeks as well. Was it from the running? Or…

Hinata’s hand moved towards Kageyama’s forehead but before he could touch it, Kageyama’s hand slapped it away.

“Ow! What the heck? That hurt, Yama!” Hinata cradled his hand against his chest.

“What are you doing, dumbass?” Kageyama snapped. Hinata took a moment to be utterly flabbergasted at the malice laced in the reply. It felt unwarranted, given that Hinata was a) his boyfriend and b) just trying to help.

“I’m trying to figure out why you’re being such a freakin’ asshole today, Jerkyama,” he narrowed his eyes and glared up at Kageyama. The setter’s lip curled and he clicked his tongue.

“I don’t know why you’re so in my fucking face today, idiot,” Kageyama spit back so venomously that Hinata almost instinctively recoiled.

“Cause I know something is wrong and I don’t know why you’re hiding it from me!” Hinata yelled back. What the fuck was his problem?

Hinata could feel the eyes of his teammates on them now, probably wondering what was causing their dynamic duo to fight this time. Thankfully, they kept their distance. He knew they’d step in if they needed to, but he and Kageyama have gotten a lot better at resolving things themselves. (And that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they are secretly dating. Nope.)

“I don’t have to tell you everything. You’re not my mom,” Kageyama shrugged sharply. “Just back off okay? Fuck. You’re so clingy. Let me breathe,” he exhaled and turned his head away again.

The words cut through Hinata’s chest painfully.  He gaped at Kageyama for a moment before standing up quickly and glaring down at Kageyama.

“Fine. What the fuck ever, Shitty-yama. I don’t know what crawled up your ass today, but I’m sorry for caring. Come find me when you’ve got your shit together and you’re ready to be my boyfriend again,” Hinata seethed and walked away.

If Kageyama was going to be such a jerk, he would go practice with Kuroo and them again until Kageyama decided to not be a dick.

“Hinata,” Suga called out to him. Hinata inhaled and slowly turned to face his upperclassmen.

“Yeah?” He asked as calmly and normally as possible.

“Is everything alright? Looked like things got pretty intense. You guys haven’t fought like that in a while,” Suga asked and put a hand on Hinata’s shoulder. He squeezed, eyes wide and a concerned frown on his face and Hinata’s anger melted. They hadn’t officially come out as a couple to the team or anything yet, but it’s not like the team didn’t know how close the two were recently. Even if they believed it was only as friends.

“Yeah,” he huffed, “I don’t know. Something’s bothering him, but he won’t tell me. I almost thought for a second that he might be sick, but if he has enough energy to be such a huge buttwad, then that’s probably not what it is.” Suga nodded in understanding.

“Want me to keep an eye on him?”

Hinata peered over Suga’s shoulder to where Kageyama was still sitting. Yachi was sitting facing him on her knees, clearly trying to get him to talk to her. If he was responding, Hinata couldn’t tell. Kageyama’s knees held his knees to his chest, his head resting loosely on his arms. He was about to say yes, absolutely, please, until he remembered that they were just friends in the eyes of the team and he therefore had no reason to be as concerned as he was.

“Uh pft, what?” he tried to cover, “if you want--I mean--I don’t care--it’s not like we’re dating or anything. If he wants to be an idiot, that’s his problem.” Suga raised his eyebrows at him.

“I’ll have him practice setter switches with me then,” Suga said with a soft smile.

“Okay. If you want to… it might help him...,” Hinata replied, grateful that Suga wasn’t questioning his weird reaction. Suga ruffled his hair before prancing over to the rest of the team to coerce them into more practice.

Hinata inhaled slowly and exhaled away his frustration. Then he turned and skipped over to where Kenma and Kuroo were chatting quietly.

“Kuroo-san!” Hinata called and ran up to them, “are we practicing again today?? I want you to show me that cool wha-BAM block again!!” He jumped up and attempted to imitate Kuroo’s cool kill block.

“Shoyo, Kuro was actually just saying that he was—“ Kenma started. Hinata thought that Kenma almost looked worried about something? Kuroo cut him off before Hinata could figure it out.

“On my way to look for you Chib-chan!”

Hinata grinned at him. He loved practicing with such amazing players. He learned so much and it was a sure way to take his mind off his grumpy boyfriend for a few hours. Hopefully, by the time they met up for dinner, Kageyama would be in a less crappy mood.

“Let’s go grab something to eat and then we’ll round up the others,” Kuroo told him and Hinata nodded and ran off. Now that he knew Kuroo was coming, he should convince Tsukishima to join.

***

Extra practice was absolutely not going the way Hinata thought it would. In fact, it only reminded him about how completely useless he was trying to help Kageyama earlier that day. He was still completely useless. Tsukishima already yelled at him and Lev to be quiet.

“You’ve got a fever,” Akaashi said and Hinata’s anxiety spiked. Maybe Kageyama was sick after all. He might’ve caught whatever Kuroo had. And Hinata was such an asshole to him. He would have to apologize after they took care of the current situation.

Hinata watched helplessly as his upperclassmen slowly broke down, trying without success to think of some way to help. Akaashi and Bokuto seemed to have it covered, but Hinata was tired of feeling useless.

When Lev mentioned Kenma, Hinata was more than happy to retrieve the setter. He knew exactly where he should be too.

“Kenma!” Hinata yelled breathlessly as he entered the Nekoma sleeping quarters. He scanned the room for the familiar brown-blonde hair, ignoring the curious eyes of the other Nekoma members in the room. Kenma was nowhere to be found. He locked eyes with Inuoka who blinked at him in shock.

“Hinata? Is everything okay?” He stood up and crossed the room.

“Uh,” Hinata quieted down a little, he wasn’t stupid enough to blurt out the situation. That might only cause panic. “Kuroo-san is sick and I came to get Kenma.” Inuoka’s eyes widened.

“It hit Kuroo-san? Already? Damn,” Inuoka sighed, putting a hand on his forehead.

“What are you talking about?” Hinata asked.

“A few players from Shinzen and Ubugawa got a stomach bug. They just told Nobuyuki-san. He went to go talk with the rest of the captains and vice-captains about what to do. He took Yaku-san and they figured they’d just tell Kuroo when he got back. I guess he knows…” Inuoka explained and Hinata’s stomach dropped to his feet. Kageyama practiced with a bunch of Shinzen and Ubugawa players last night, so he most definitely was sick. Shit.

He wanted to run to find his boyfriend, but he had a job to do right now. He trusted his team to take care of things until he could find Kenma.

“Where’s Kenma?” Hinata pressed.

“He’s in the shower,” Inuoka said and Hinata cursed.

“Okay. Thanks, Inuoka!” he called as he sprinted towards the bathrooms.

Kenma was very unhappy with Hinata when he burst into the bathroom shouting his name and throwing the curtain open. After he explained the situation with Kuroo though, Kenma sighed and said he’d be right out. Hinata waited impatiently outside the bathroom for Kenma to finish. When Kenma emerged from the bathroom with his hair tied back and dripping and his Snorlax slippers adorning his feet, Hinata quickly led him to Gym Three.

“Kuroo- san! I found Kenma!” Hinata yelled as soon as they got there. Kenma immediately went over and took Akaashi’s place beside Kuroo.

Hinata watched for a little while, but when Kuroo started gagging more he remembered that his own boyfriend might be in a similar situation.

“Uh, I’m gonna—I’m gonna go,” he stuttered and ran out of the gym to find Kageyama.

He had no idea where his boyfriend might be at this point. Was he even sick? Was he angry at Hinata? If he was sick, would he still be in the gym anyway? It wouldn’t be surprising at all if he blatantly lied about being sick in order to keep practicing.

“Hinata!” Kiyoko ran up to him, “there you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I ran to Gym Three earlier, but as soon as I saw the situation and that you weren’t there, I just left. Please come with me,” she said quickly and turned back the direction she came from.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. Kiyoko looking for him so urgently couldn’t be anything good. She shook her head.

“Kageyama almost passed out while he and Sugawara were practicing, but he refuses to leave the gym.” Hinata’s chest squeezed. He was right. Kageyama was sick.

“What a freaking idiot,” he said, picking up his pace a little.

When he got to the gym, Kageyama was standing on the court, swaying on his feet. Yachi was hesitantly tossing balls up for him to set. Before each one, she tried to say something about how Kageyama should sit down, but Kageyama cut her off with a glare. Asahi, Yamaguchi, and Kinnoshita were all practicing half-heartedly, keeping an eye on their stubborn setter. Noya was the only one who looked angry. Hinata imagined that he tried to get Kageyama to leave and was quickly shut down.

“Where are Daichi and Suga?” Hinata asked Kiyoko. She shrugged.

“They were called away for some captain’s meeting.” Hinata nodded.

“Shinzen and Ubugawa players have a stomach bug. It’s probably about that.” Kiyoko’s eyes widened and she shot an anxious look in Kageyama’s direction. Hinata grimaced and steeled himself.

“Hey! Bakayama!” Hinata shouted and the ball Yachi tossed fell to the ground untouched. Kageyama turned to him and Hinata gasped.

He was paler than earlier, almost ashen, and positively dripping in sweat. Hinata’s feet carried him over to his idiotic boyfriend and he immediately cupped his flushed cheeks. His fever was immediately evident. Kageyama registered the movement a little too slowly (incredibly concerning) and grabbed Hinata's wrists and weakly tried to pull his hands off his face.

“Stop. You have a fever. You need to go to bed.” Hinata said, not leaving any room for an argument.

Of course, that didn’t stop Kageyama.

“I’m fine,” he said. The crack and complete lack of bite in his voice made the statement incredibly unconvincing. Hinata pursed his lips and dropped his hands.

“Fine. Let’s do some passing drills then,” he shrugged and walked over to Yachi to get a ball.

“Hinata, I don’t know if that’s the bes--” Yachi started.

“Get a bucket and some water ready.” Hinata cut her off with a whisper. Her mouth immediately dropped into a frown, her eyes wide, but she nodded and ran to the store room.

“Fine. You suck anyway,” Kageyama muttered. He moved into position.

They started passing and things were going smoothly for the first few minutes. As time passed, however, it was more than clear that Kageyama was unwell. There was an obvious sway to his stance, and he was panting even though they’d only been at it for a few minutes. Hinata was uncomfortable with putting his boyfriend through all this, but if the idiot wasn’t going to admit he was sick, there wasn’t anything else he could do.

Without realizing it, Hinata let out his frustration on the ball and spiked it down. Kageyama jumped to try and reach it when it bounced back up, but just barely touched it. When his feet slammed back onto the floor, his legs gave out and he fell to his hands and knees. Yachi and the remaining Karasuno players gasped and tried to run to his side, but Hinata beat them to it.

“Kageyama!” Hinata ran over to him. He swiped back his sweaty hair and cringed at the heat he felt.

“That was a shit move, boke,” Kageyama wheezed.

“I didn’t mean to spike it, really, I was just so frustrated because you’re being so unnecessarily stubborn about this. You’re clearly sick, idiot.” Hinata replied. He couldn’t keep the concern out of his voice. Kageyama seemed way worse off than Kuroo.

Kageyama thought about his words for a second before he looked at the floor and nodded. Hinata sighed in relief.

“Can I take you to bed?” Kageyama met his eyes. Hinata frowned. Kageyama’s eyes were fever-bright and glassy (Hinata secretly thought it made the blue of his eyes even more beautiful, but he kept that to himself. For now, at least).

“Please,” Kageyama croaked. His bottom lip trembled and if there weren’t other people around, he would’ve kissed Kageyama’s sweaty forehead.

Instead, he stood up, extending a hand down to Kageyama. The setter took his hand and Hinata helped him stand slowly and carefully. As soon as he was upright, Hinata pulled one of Kageyama’s arms around his shoulder and wrapped his own around his boyfriend’s waist. Kageyama leaned a little too heavily on Hinata.

Hinata bit his lip. If Kageyama did catch the same bug, he needed to get him somewhere away from people sooner rather than later. It was unlikely that Kageyama would be okay spewing his guts up in front of everyone.

“Here, I’ll help,” Yamaguchi said and Hinata shook his head before he could make his way over to them.

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to catch this,” Hinata said and sent Yamaguchi a grateful smile. Yamaguchi nodded and took the bucket and water from Yachi.

“I’ll follow you. I want to find Tsukki anyway.”

They made it about 3 feet out of the gym before Kageyama pushed himself away from Hinata and careened off to the side. He put a hand on the wall and doubled over with a painful sounding wretch.

“Crap,” Hinata muttered and grabbed the bucket from Yamaguchi. He walked over to Kageyama and put it down in front of him and put a hand on his hunched back. A second later, he heaved again unsuccessfully.

“Can I do anything?” Yamaguchi asked. Hinata glanced at Kageyama’s scrunched up face and watched his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. He turned back to Yamaguchi and shook his head, sending him another thankful smile.

“It’s okay. I got this,” Hinata said. Yamaguchi hesitated, but nodded and placed the water bottle on the ground before turning and walking away.

“Relax, Yama,” Hinata soothed.

“Go’way,” Kageyama replied. Hinata for the umpteenth time that day, took a second to compute his boyfriend’s response.

“As if, stupid. It’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen me puke.”

“That’s not,” he hiccuped, “that’s not it.” Kageyama said.

Hinata stared at him for a second and tried not to be hurt by thoughts that hadn’t yet been voiced.

“...you’d rather be alone?” he asked softly. Kageyama looked up at him, his eyes big and his mouth in a tight line, but an apologetic look on his face. He nodded. Hinata tucked his lips into his mouth and took his hand off his back.

“I’ll just be over there then,” he chuckled pathetically. If Kageyama didn’t want him around, it didn’t mean that he didn’t love him or trust him, Hinata tried to remind himself. It was just a preference. This was a new situation for them as a couple and Hinata had to remember that he was still learning things about his boyfriend.

“Hina—“ Kageyama tried, but was cut off by another gag. It was wet and gurgling.

“It’s okay, Yama! I know it’s not cause you don’t love me. It’s fine. Come get me when you’re ready,” Hinata assured and walked around the corner of the gym.

He sat down against the wall and took a breath. It was stupid for him to feel so hurt. The only reason he was this upset was because they fought earlier and never really made up.

Around the corner, Kageyama gagged harshly and Hinata winced. He resisted the urge to run around the corner and help.

For the next several minutes, Hinata sat by helplessly, uselessly, and listened to Kageyama wretch and gag and hiccup and gasp unproductively.

Finally, a harsh cough brought with it the sounds of vomit hitting plastic and Hinata felt some relief on behalf of his sickly boyfriend.

From there, it was almost like someone turned on the faucet. Hinata winced everytime Kageyama heaved. He was about to run to Kageyama, whether the setter wanted that or not.

“Sh-Shoyo,” he heard Kageyama whimper and with that Hinata’s resolve to sit by patiently broke and he got up and sprinted the short distance back to his boyfriend.

Kageyama was squatting with the bucket between his legs and his head in his hands, panting.

“Yama,” Hinata said at the same time that his heart broke. He knelt by Kageyama.

“Hey, I’m here. What do you need? Want me to rub your back? Want some water? I can tie back your hair or —“

“Sho, please,” Kageyama breathed. He looked at Hinata with the biggest, saddest, wettest eyes and the cutest, smallest, most adorably pitiful frown.

“Please jus’ shuddup ‘n hold m’hand,” he said and held out a hand. Hinata gladly took it and squeezed. Kageyama’s shoulders relaxed briefly before jumping back up by his ears when he heaved.

Hinata sat by quietly while Kageyama continued to throw up seemingly everything he’s ever eaten. He wanted to do more, but didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and make Kageyama uncomfortable. Just being able to offer even the most minute bit of comfort to Kageyama made him less anxious. He hoped Kageyama felt the same way.

Kageyama spit in the bucket and breathed heavily.

“Water?” He choked. Hinata nodded eagerly and handed him the water Yachi brought him. Kageyama used it to rinse his mouth out first and then fell onto his butt and took a few more sips, opting to sit cross-legged against the gym wall.

Hinata fiddled with his fingers, trying to figure out what to do with them now that he wasn’t holding Kageyama’s hand anymore. He decided to move the bucket away and await further instruction.

Kageyama looked...bad. And it made Hinata’s whole body twitch. He’d never seen Kageyama like this, weak and sweaty and vulnerable. On the one hand, he was glad that Kageyama trusted him. On the other, it hurt his chest to see the guy he loved in such a state.

A quiet sob broke him out of his thoughts and his head shot up to look at Kageyama.

“Yama?”

Kageyama shook his head and brought his arms up to cover his face. Hinata crawled over to him and waited for him to calm down.

“I’m sorry, Hinata,” he whimpered behind his arms. Hinata’s face softened.

“It’s alright.”

“No,” Kageyama said quickly, dropping his arms and meeting Hinata’s eyes. He was flushed, pale and sweaty, his hair matted and sticking up in all directions. Hinata smiled at him sympathetically.

“It’s not alright, Hinata. I-I was such an ass-asshole,” he wheezed between sobs. Hinata bit his lip.

“And you were on-only trying to h-help, and I was so mean!” He cried, his chest heaving. “You should break up with me.” Hinata furrowed his eyebrows and widened his eyes. How did he fall for such a freaking drama Queen?

He threw his head back and sighed, “Kageyama.”

“Don’t forgive me, Hinata! You’re not clingy! I’m sorry,” the setter continued to cry. His raspy breaths and choked sobs were quickly devolving. Hinata could see where this was going. He felt bad because Kageyama was probably way too out of it to realize that he was working himself up.

“Yama, please listen to me for a second you big idiot,” Hinata tried again. Kageyama continued to sob, hiccups sprinkling themselves in now.

Hinata needed to calm him down. Could he touch him now? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to make Kageyama more uncomfortable.

Kageyama made up Hinata’s mind for him when he lurched forward with a dry heave. He planted a hand on the ground in front of him but his whole arm was trembling. Hinata wrapped his arm around Kageyama’s heaving chest quickly to keep him upright.

“Tobio, calm down. Breathe,” Hinata soothed. Even he was surprised, but very proud, at how calmly he was handling everything. He’d brag to Kageyama about it when he was feeling better.

Kageyama shook his head quickly, eyes squeezed shut and dry heaved again.

“There’s nothing left, Yama,” Hinata tried to reason. He used his free hand to rub gently between Kageyama’s shoulder blades.

Kageyama grabbed Hinata’s arm around his chest and squeezed. His body continued to betray him and after a few more heave, he choked on a small stream of bile onto his legs.

Hinata cursed and pulled Kageyama up to a standing position. It only served to aggravate his stomach more and he belched up a larger wave. At least this time he didn’t get it on himself.

He kept an arm firmly across Kageyama’s chest and the setter leaned heavily into Hinata. It was concerning to say the least. His throat gurgled before more bile spilled from his mouth.

“Kageyama, hey. Breathe,” Hinata said more urgently.

“Hinata!” Suga called and Hinata’s head snapped towards his upperclassmen. Suga was jogging towards them with a few medical masks in hand.

“Shit, it hit him hard, huh?” He winced.

“Yeah,” Hinata replied with a grimace. Kageyama gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut and spit before moaning pitifully.

Hinata, getting past his own disgust, used the end of his own gosh dang shirt and wiped off Kageyama’s mouth. His boyfriend’s lip trembled when he made eye contact with him and Hinata’s mouth quirked up in sympathy.

“You’re okay,” he said. Kageyama turned and wrapped his arms around Hinata’s head and collapsed onto him in a heavy hug. On instinct, Hinata’s arms snaked around Kageyama’s waist.

Hinata managed to bring his face out of Kageyama’s chest and found Suga again. The older setter had an eyebrow raised and subtle smirk on his lips.

“Seems you guys made up,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” Hinata blushed, “is there somewhere he can rest?” Suga chuckled.

“Yeah. Come on. They’ve set up a room for the fallen,” he joked. “Do you need help?”

“Uh,” he glanced at the giant buried in his neck and smiled softly.

“Nah. I got it. Just lead the way.” He said and maneuvered Kageyama onto his back.

“Try to keep your insides inside for a bit, okay, Bakageyama?” Hinata teased. Kageyama just groaned and nuzzled further into Hinata’s neck.

Suga covered his own face with a medical mask before handing one to Hinata. Then he led them to a classroom set up for the sickies. While they were walking, Kageyama whispered repeated and delirious apologies to Hinata.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Hinata insisted after a bit, “I was a jerk too. I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. It was stupid of me to think I could fix everything if you just told me what was wrong.”

“I should’ve just told you,” Kageyama replied quietly.

“Yeah probably,” Hinata shrugged as best he could, “but this is new for us. We’ll figure it out.”

“Still. I was so mean,” Kageyama mumbled into Hinata’s neck.

“I’m not mad,” Hinata reassured. He looked ahead at Suga who was very obviously trying not to listen.

“You should be.”

“You’re sick, Yama. It’s no surprise that you’re grumpier than usual. I’m just grateful you’re letting me help you now.”

“I don’t want anyone else to help me,” Kageyama admitted. Hinata’s chest warmed.

“It’s you and me, then.” He smiled. Kageyama nodded.

When they finally made it to the Designated Sick Room, Suga left the room to tell Daichi what was going on while Hinata took Kageyama to a corner futon away from the majority of the others.

“Alright, I’ll come check on you in a bit, okay?” He said once he was satisfied that Kageyama was sufficiently comfortable. Kageyama nodded and turned onto his side and shivered. Hinata frowned. He didn’t want to leave his boyfriend, but he didn’t want to stay in that nasty, germ-filled room longer than necessary.

He turned to leave, resisting the urge to give Kageyama a quick kiss. Right before he stepped out of the room, Suga stopped him with a hand in his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, one hand still up to stop Hinata and the other on his cocked hip.

Hinata raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m going back to practice?”

“As if,” Suga scoffed before noticing Hinata’s confusion at the response.

“Hinata,” he sighed and turned away, “listen,” he met Hinata’s eyes, “we were trying to wait for you guys to be comfortable enough to tell us yourselves, but we all know you and Kageyama are dating.”

Hinata blinked up at him. Suga’s hidden meaning was not immediately apparent to him, but eventually he realized what his upperclassman was implying and he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“What— no— I mean we don’t— I don’t—“

“Cut the crap, Hinata,” Suga chuckled, a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow telling the middle blocker that there was no getting out of this one. He immediately deflated and dropped his head and shoulders with an exasperated sigh.

“How’d you guys find out?”

“For real?? It’s not like you guys were subtle at all!” Suga laughed fully this time. “You’ve been fighting less and you stare at each other all the time. Also, take it from me, the storage closets are not as private as you may think.”

Hinata flushed in embarrassment again. No way could he meet Suga’s eyes right now.

“Now. Get back in there. If Kageyama is sick, there’s no way you’re not at least carrying his germs.” Suga pushed Hinata gently back into the Sick Room, despite his many sputtering attempts at protesting.

Kageyama’s bleary eyes peeked up at Hinata in confusion when he unceremoniously plopped down beside his sick boyfriends. He huffed sharply and crossed his arms, pouting.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be in here. You’ll get sick,” he mumbled groggily. Hinata let out an exasperated sigh.

“Apparently,” he drawled out, “we aren’t as good at hiding as we thought so there’s ‘no way’ I’m not carrying your germs. Suga’s making me stay here.”

“Wha—“ Kageyama’s eyebrows squished together cutely while his foggy brain tried to interpret what Hinata said. As soon as he did, his already flushed cheeks deepened in color before he quickly buried his face in his pillow.

“Stupid, Shoyo,” came the muffled insult, “you’re too obnoxious.”

“Me?” Hinata gasped, a hand flying to his chest and his eyes widening. “You’re the one that insists we make out in the storage closet!” Kageyama turned his head and frowned up at Hinata.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I just really like you. Please don’t yell at me. I don’t feel good.” Hinata’s heart constricted from the sheer adorableness behind Kageyama’s wide glassy eyes and tiny little pout.

“Gah,” he squeezed his eyes shut and grasped at his chest. “You’re so freaking cute, Yamayama. I’m sorry! You’re right! It’s my fault.” To show his remorse, Hinata flopped onto his boyfriend and snuggled into him.

“Ah! Shoyo, stop! We’re in public, dumbass,” Kageyama cried through giggles. Hinata laughed and peered up at Kageyama with a smile. He pecked his flushed cheek and sat up.

“Guess since everyone knows, you’re really stuck with me, Yama,” he sing-songed. Kageyama smiled up at him softly.

“Good. Now let me sleep.” He rolled over and Hinata settled himself against the wall beside his head.

“Sure. I’ll be here in case you need to puke again. Let me know if you feel bad and I can get you some medicine or some water. Or hey! If you feel up to munching on something, I can run to the vending machines and—“

“Shoyo?”

“Hmmm?”

“Please just shut up and hold my hand.” Kageyama snaked one hand out from under his blanket and Hinata took it in his own as a smile tugged at his cheeks.

[collecting-stories]

Thirteen - JJ Maybank

Request: hi! could you write an imagine where jj and the reader are really close and when they are starting to hook up for the first time and y/n gets scared bc of her past. She has a flashback and JJ helps her. She is reluctant and denies that anything is wrong. But finally she admits to jj that it’s not him and he’s super sweet and protective?

TW: Very brief contextual mention of sexual assault to a minor. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

▽ △ ▽ △

A knock sounded on the bathroom door as you sat on the edge of John B’s tub, head in your hands as you tried not to cry. Not today, not after all this time. You knew who was knocking but you didn’t have it in you to answer. Partially from embarrassment, (had you really just up and ran into the bathroom in the middle of making out?) and partially from the residual and everlasting pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatened to swallow you whole every time you felt even the smallest bit of happiness seep in. 

“Do you...should I go?” JJ’s voice followed his usual three-in-a-row rapping pattern on the wooden door. Like a code you didn’t need to tell you it was just him outside. No one to be afraid of. 

“No,” you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, looking at the mirror across from you, a silver of forehead reflecting in the glass at your current height. “No, sorry, I’ll be right out.”

“Don’t apologise,” JJ replied hastily, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t trying to make you feel like you had to rush out, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. He wasn’t exactly world class at comforting people though, “Are you alright? Do you want me to call Kie or something?” 

“No.” That was the last thing you wanted. Then your friends would be up in your business and you loved them, truly, but you didn’t need them interfering in whatever was happening between you and JJ. Or not happening, at this point. 

“Is there, I mean...is there anything I can do?” He asked, pacing the small area around the bathroom door, staring at the pictures Big John had on the wall. “We can talk or something.” 

You sighed, standing up and getting a full view of yourself in the mirror. “Yeah. Okay.”

The bathroom door opened and JJ stood up straight, back hovering against the wall opposite you, as if he was afraid of what would come out. It was just you though, looking a little worse for wear, as if you’d encountered a ghost somewhere between the pull-out couch and the bathroom. And, to be fair, you had. A ghost that looked a lot like you only younger, maybe a little more naive, and scared. You walked out of the bathroom slowly, reminding yourself over and over that the boy your ghost was afraid of wasn’t here and it was JJ, looking sweet and sympathetic and a little scared himself, that was standing across from you. 

“Hey, uh....here,” he led the way into the living room, moving aside the old comforter for you to sit on the pull-out, “you can sit.” 

You chewed at your lower lip as you sat there on the side of the bed, thigh pressed against the arm of the couch, staring at JJ who was still standing, rubbing at his arms the way he did when he was nervous, “You don’t have to be weird JJ...I didn’t mean to freak out.” 

You couldn’t help the guilty feeling gnawing at you. It’d been a perfectly good afternoon until your meltdown. John B was out and JJ invited you over because, truthfully, things between the two of you had been changing. A little more than friends, it had been a long time since you had trusted yourself with letting a crush be anything more than a crush. But JJ was different, you had always been honest with each other and he had trusted you with his dad. You knew you could let him in, it was just the doing so that felt like an insurmountable hill. 

“It’s cool. I just,” JJ shrugged, sitting down beside you but keeping a person sized distance between your body and his. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“It wasn’t you.” You clarified though you hoped he already knew that. 

“Are you...okay? I mean, can I do anything?” JJ asked, teetering on the edge of wanting so desperately to help but also wanting to call anyone else in the world who would be better at this then he was. 

“It’s just-“ You thought about how to tell him so that he understood, how to make it sound so that he didn’t treat you like some sort of leper when he found out, “you know when you told me about your dad...”

“Yeah.” 

God, he would remember that for the rest of his life. The way you looked so upset when you thought he’d been picking a fight with Rafe or Kelce only to have him say that it was his dad. The way you looked, so horrified and angry, like you were going to march over there and beat the crap out of Luke Maybank yourself. JJ had half a mind to think that you could’ve if you really wanted to. 

“That’s, I feel like that.” You replied, thinking of the way he looked when he told you, that pain like a piece of broken glass wedges into his heart. 

“Is someone hurting you?” He paled as his eyes met yours. Immediately running through every possible candidate in his mind. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, not anymore. “I’m, I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“I wouldn’t.” 

“Yeah but-“ you started to say but JJ shook his head, cutting you off. 

“No, seriously. I wouldn’t. Whatever it is you can tell me.” He replied. He waved his hand between the two of you as he continued, “this is a judgement free zone.” 

“Yeah okay.” You nodded. 

“What’s going on?” 

“It’s just...I haven’t really...done this before.” You replied. It was a complicated truth and you were trying your best to get it out, to explain something you’d never explained before. “Well,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” JJ scooted closer finally and you found a small piece of you immediately comforted by the feeling of his hand against your back, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, moving your leg so your knee brushed his as id to silently confirm that it was okay. 

“I guess...” you tried to think of the words to say as you started to talk, “when I was 13 I had the biggest crush on my friend’s brother. I thought he was so cool. And he talked to me, ya know...like made me feel special. On day when I was over their house he told me he liked me a lot and that if I liked him I should...show him.” You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself again.

Trying not to run for the bathroom and lock yourself inside. This was JJ. Funny, dumb, always high JJ, who tried to do party tricks to impress you at the risk of breaking a bone. Who lied through his teeth to buy a keg the week before while you sat in the driver’s side of your jeep honking the horn at him so many times the guy in the shop sold the keg just to get you to leave. JJ who always made sure you were okay any time you were feeling nervous. 

You pushed on, “I just really wanted him to like me and I didn’t want to do that but I felt like I had to. And I haven’t been with anyone since then cause-“ 

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything, at all.” JJ stressed, his hand rubbing warm circles on your back. He leaned over and kissed your exposed shoulder, so gently you almost swore it was your imagination, “Whatever you want, I’m happy just hanging out like we always do.” 

“I know you are. I just, I like you but I just feel like, I’m not sure...how to be with someone.” You didn’t even think you were making sense at this point but he didn’t seemed fazed. “It feels, it doesn’t feel like I think it should.” 

“Maybe that’s like, you telling yourself you aren’t ready for that yet.” JJ replied, unsure if he was even doing this comforting thing right. 

“Yeah but you’ve been with like, a ton of girls before.” You weren’t naive enough to think that JJ had never hooked up with the girls he hung around at parties, you knew that was pretty much all he did. 

“So what? That doesn’t have anything to do with this.” He insisted.

“If that’s true then I should be fine.” You argued. If he could just move on and not think about or compare you to anyone he’d ever been with then you shouldn’t still be carrying this weight. You didn’t even want it. 

“That’s different, someone hurt you.” He replied, “Yeah I’ve had sex before but, both of us wanted it. What your friend’s brother did wasn’t anything like that.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’m messed up or something,” you explained. “or that you want something I can’t give you yet.”

JJ frowned at the sentiment, the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel any kind of pressure. From him, yourself, or anyone else, “I don’t care about that. And hey, we agreed, no judgement.” 

“Yeah I know but-“ 

“No. When I told you about my dad, that was really hard but you didn’t bail on me or make me feel weak. This is me doing the same for you.” He replied. “Forget dating or whatever, this is me and you alright. Best friends before anything else. What happened wasn’t your fault and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. Don’t think that it does.”

“Okay.”

“That was a half-ass okay.” JJ replied, his shoulder knocking against yours. 

“It’s the best okay I can offer.” 

“How about, we just watch something? John B’s not back for another couple of hours.” He suggested, getting up and climbing onto the bed, the springs creaking as they buckled under his weight. You twisted to watch him as he made himself comfortable, spreading out with his back against the cushions and his arms out on either side. “We can even take a nap.”

You kneeled up onto the bed and crawled over to him, careful as you laid down beside him and rested your head against his shoulder. His  arm came around to drape over you and you reached up to hold his hand. “You got a full eight hours last night, how are you still tired?” You asked, the mood lightening significantly as you relaxed with him, “What would you have done if we had actually had sex?”

“Fallen asleep on you.” He replied, shrugging as if it was the obvious answer, “You would have asphyxiated cause I would’ve crushed you to death.” 

“You’ve been hanging out with Pope too long, you actually know what that word means.” 

“Are you saying I’m not smart enough to know things without hanging out with Pope?” He asked, sitting up a little more to look at you. 

“No, I’m just saying Pope is smarter than you,” you almost shrieked as he tackled you against the cushions, fingers prodding your sides over your tank top. “Oh my god, JJ! Stop, you know I’m ticklish!”

“Not until you admit that I’m the smartest person you know.” 

“Yes, yes, okay, you JJ Maybank are the smartest person I know,” you laughed as he stopped tickling you, hands holding your sides as he leant over you and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Good,” He replied, “you admit the truth. Now, let’s watch something happy.” 

-

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

WIP Challenge Snippets!

Big thank you to everyone who requested something. I love hearing what ideas you all are excited for! I'll put each of the snippets below in alphabetical order. All but one are just dialogue - I'm currently at a point where that's all I have done for most of my WIPs.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, only smut fics were requested, so minors please DNI!

Hope you enjoy!

Centerfold*

I'm still unsure if this will be a mini-series or a oneshot. I have no freaking clue. Here's a snippet of dialogue, though! Starts with Derek.

“Alright kid, spill the beans.” “Did you know that phrase could stem from numerous possible practices? It could just be a reference to vomiting, but there’s an alternate explanation involving an ancient voting practice of dropping colored beans into a jar and—“ “Not gonna work on me, Reid.” “Fine.” (whispers) “That girl in that magazine? The ‘Vegas Vixen?’ I lost my virginity to her.” “You’re messing with me.” “No! I’m not! I swear that I am not messing with you.” “There’s no way.” “Would I make that up?!” “To mess with me? Yeah, maybe.”

Coquette*

This is a long work that has been heavily inquired about and a very long time coming, so here is a long snippet of dialogue to continue the trend. Starts with Spencer.

“Don’t sound so scared. I’m not going to tell anyone.” “I-I know.” “Do you?” “No. I just hoped not…” “What were you planning if I said I was going to?” “Where are we going? I never told you my address.” “I need to drive around in case someone is following us.” “Oh. That makes sense.” “Answer my question.” “I… hadn’t considered it.” “That’s a lie.” “Fine. I would make a deal with you.” “Tell me the deal. Maybe I’ve changed my mind.” “I won’t tell everyone how hard you got for me when I danced on your lap if you don’t tell them I’m a stripper.” “A tempting offer, although I’m not very ashamed of being turned on by a woman who’s made a career out of being tantalizing, Coquette.” “What’s your idea of a good deal, then?” “Hmmm… My silence in exchange for whatever you were willing to offer me before you found out who I was.” “What are you implying?” “I know a lot about that club… And that it was your first night in the backroom. But your nerves tell me you knew what you were there for.” “Are you seriously propositioning me right now? Through blackmail?” “You asked me what a good deal was, not what I would ask for.” “So what would you ask for?” “Your address. So I can take you home.”

H2M Epilogue*

This whole part makes me want to melt, but here is a funny dialogue snippet.

Derek: “Alright, I know you love to break rules, but Penelope made me doorman for a reason.” Reader: “You really want to pick a fight with me? On my wedding day? I know you know me, Derek Morgan. I know you know better than to stand between me and my husband.” Derek: “He’s not your husband yet, Princess.” Spencer: “Actually, we had a courthouse ceremony a few weeks ago, just in case something happened and we had to miss this ceremony.” (Reader tackles him as he walks up to the door) Derek: “Hopeless. And selfish. Penelope is going to kill me, you know.”

Lane Courtesy* (Franklin)

This fic is purely for my beta @sunlight-moonrise, but y'all can read it if you want. Starts with Franklin.

“Maybe it’d be easier if you bought clothes that fit.” “I think I look pretty good in what I’m wearing. And I think you think so, too. Besides... it’s all in the wrist, anyway. You wanna see?” (She grabs his ball, he grabs her arm) “Don’t worry, babe. I’m good at handling men’s balls.” “Oh, I bet you are.” “Plus, I promise I’ll give them back to you after.”

Practice Makes Perfect* (backburner)

This is a very old original idea I had. I'm not sure if/when I'll ever get around to it - if anyone wants it, I'd love to hand over the dialogue I have so far. Here is a snippet regardless! Starts with Spencer.

“Hey (y/n), what—" “Spencer! Can I come in?” “C-come in? Into my room?” “Uh... yeah.” “But you... you’re... you’re dressed like a...” “A stripper, yeah. Are you going to make me stand out here like this longer?” (He lets her in) “Is there something I can do?” “Can I dance on you?” “What?” “I want to give you a lap dance. Please.” “A lap— why?" “Who else am I going to ask? Hotch? Please, Spencer. You’re the only person I trust.” “Trust?” “Please stop rephrasing everything I say as a question.”

Shortbread (Chip)

Love me some Sub!Chip. This is honestly probably on the backburner. I've been in a very Spencer mood lately. Starts with Chip.

“Can I ask you something?” “What’s up, sweetheart?” “Why are you so nice to me all the time?” “What do you mean?” “You don’t really know me. But ever since I met you, you’ve always just been nice to me. I mean, I know you’re nice to everyone, but it feels…” “Different? It should.”

Seatbelt Safety* (Chip)

Gosh, this fic is so short, I really need to just write it. Uber Driver Chip. Starts with Reader.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I kind of needed to act a bit crazy.” “Why?” “I was trying to get out a super awkward date.” “By running into the street?” “Trust me. It was a bad date.” “Oh. Well, I’m sorry you had a bad date.” “It’s fine. You know how it goes.” “Not really. Haven’t had a date in a long time.” “Why is that?” “Idunno.” “Hm.” “What?” “You wanna go on a date with me?” “What?” “Let’s go on a date.” “... What?” “Most people say yes or no. ‘What’ isn’t very helpful. Is this why you can’t get a date?” “I can get a date! I just... haven’t been asked by anyone in awhile. And definitely not like that. That was weird.”

Study Session* (requested three times!):

I have a lot of this done already, so you get an actual sneak peek here!

“Listen closely, young lady,” he said like I had any other option. Like I wasn’t enraptured and enchanted by the feel of his warm breath once again hitting my ear. He could feel the way breath stuttered and my body stumbled straight into him with eager hands. I could almost feel his smirk against my ear when he concluded, “I would never... ever sleep with you.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t just drop me; he tossed me to his side like the very notion of being that close to me disgusted him. The desire that had been burning inside of my chest quickly shifted to rage. He could pretend like he didn’t want me, but there was no other justification for bringing me out to the back in the first place. There was no reason to allow me to confront him, nor for him to discuss my sex life in any manner at all. Seconds after we were both inside again, I grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back to me. Surprisingly, there was very little resistance. It was almost like he was waiting for me to do it. I tugged him into the small, dimly lit bathroom without a care in the world for who might have seen us or what whispers might follow. Spencer was already laughing, apparently amused by anger rolling off of me. “Say it again,” I ordered through heavy breaths, “Say it to my face.” I’d prepared myself for a number of responses — most of which were varying levels of humiliating. What I hadn’t prepared for, however, were the words that actually came out of his mouth. Casually, and without question, Spencer ordered, “Get on your knees.” He was so calm that I felt like it must have been a trick. It took everything in me not to fall to my knees, and instead I managed to ask, “Why?” His answer was equally unhelpful and alluring. “Because I said so.”

The Agent Assigned to My Webcam*

This is a beast of a fic, so it'll also be a while. There were so many parts I could show you, but I thought this one was the most thought provoking.

Reader: “Wait! Sorry, I-I... uh... Can I see your ring?” Spencer: “... Sure.” Reader: “Thanks. What did you say your name was?” Spencer: “I didn’t.” (He leaves, she follows him into the empty hallway) Reader: “Do I know you, Doctor Reid?” Spencer: “No.” Reader: “Are you sure?” Spencer: “I could ask you the same thing.” Reader: “Drop your pants and I’ll tell you exactly how sure I am.” Luke: (walks in) “Sorry. Am I... interrupting something?”

That's all for now, folks!

Thanks for reading. If you feel so inclined, let me know what you thought about any of the above here!

[songbirdsingingthings]

Daisies - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

I should really be going to bed rn but instead I had an idea while listening to some music and got really in my feels SO HERE IT IS <3

Warnings: Angst ending in fluff You could see it in the way that he carried himself. Shouto was nowhere near who he used to be when you first started dating. You missed the stolen glances the two of you shared, the red that took up residence on his cheeks whenever you came into the room, and the subtle touch he gave your hand which indicated that he wanted to hold it in his. You remembered when he would do anything in his power to get home to your shared apartment so that you could have dinner together and maybe watch a movie. Now when he got home, if he came home at all, it would be way past dinner and bordering on the next day. You used to stay up for him, waiting to put his meal you had prepared in the microwave so it could be warm by the time you helped him put away his coat and work bag when he came home from the agency. At first, you believed that it would only be a couple days of this, but those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into 3 months. You stopped staying up almost 3 days ago.

Currently, you were on the phone with your mother who was begging you for more details on your two year relationship.

“I know you know this, but your father proposed to me after two years of dating, about as long as you and your boyfriend have been dating,” she said, making you swallow a lump that was lodged in your throat. 

“You’re right Mom, I do know this. You tell me every chance you get,” you say in a joking voice with your voice as blank as a slate. You loved your mother, you really did. However, recently, she felt the need to hint at a proposal that you knew was not coming soon, if at all. For the duration, the two of you had never talked about marriage or if you thought about wanting to get married.

“I’m just saying, you would look beautiful in a white dress with a bouquet of daisies walking down the aisle. Where is Shouto? I haven’t been able to reach him in a while, can you put him on the phone for me?” At her words, you rub your eyes with your right hand and will yourself not to cry. You’ve already cried enough these past two weeks.

“U-um,” you begin, your voice wavering, “he’s n-not home. Probably won’t be for a while.”

“...Honey, is something the matter?” She asks, concern laced in her voice. It’s the soft comfort in her voice that makes you break. You sob into the phone, letting your tears run down your face.

“M-mom I’m so scared,” you say, crying through your words. “I-I don’t think he loves me anymore.” You feel your body shake from your weeping, now holding onto the edge of the kitchen counter for support. 

“Oh, Y/N...” your mother says, her voice quiet.

“He hasn’t come home for days and when he does come home, I feel like we’re strangers. I haven’t been able to talk to him and see what’s actually going in his life in so long that now our conversations are one of us commenting on the weather. THE WEATHER!” You scream into the phone as you walk over to your couch and collapse onto it. Your mother stays quiet as you vent, and boy, do you vent. On how Shouto’s given you the excuse of ‘work’ when you know for a fact that your friend Ochaco’s husband, Midoriya, worked at the same level that Shouto did and he came home at 7:30 sharp every night, and she lived ten minutes farther away from the agency than you did. How he hasn’t made an effort to try and take you on a date in months. How he’s stopped doing anything to make you feel like you were in a relationship.

“Y/N, you know what you have to do.” Your mother says, her voice serious.

“If you’re implying that I should break up with him-”

“No honey. You need to talk to him, and not about the weather. You need to tell him what you just told me and how much his actions have been hurting you. And, if he doesn’t see the fault in his actions, that’s when I would let him go. If anything happens, you can always have your old room back. I miss your cooking anyways, I feel like the house has downgraded from a 5-star restaurant to a 2-star one ever since you moved out.” This earned her a light laugh from you as you began to wipe the salty tears from your cheeks and take a deep breath.

“Thank you Mom,” you say.

“I’m always here for you Y/N, you know that. I’ll always be in your corner,” she says. You say goodbye and exit from your phone app to open up messages. You send Shouto a simple and concise message.

Y/N: I would really appreciate it if you could get home a little earlier tonight. We need to talk.

What shocked you was that almost immediately after, you saw the three dots pop up on the opposite side of the screen.

Shouto: Okay. Something up?

You were definitely not going to be starting this conversation over text. Absolutely not.

Y/N: We’ll talk when you get home.

The three dots didn’t pop up again, so instead, you decided to make dinner. You prepared a simple yet fail-safe comfort dinner for yourself, (favorite meal). Just as you finished fixing a plate for yourself and covered the rest in foil, you heard the faint jingle of keys outside of the apartment door. Your eyes dart up and your heart begins to beat wildly. Not in months has he been home early enough to have dinner with you - you thought you would’ve had more time to prepare what you were going to say to him. The door swings open to reveal Shouto with his work bag slung around his shoulder, hero costume stuffed in it. That detail stood out to you - never has Shouto not folded it carefully in order to prevent wrinkles. He dropped his bag near the front door and slid off his shoes. When he met your eyes, you stopped chewing instantly. The two of you stayed in your positions, perfectly still, until you slowly got up and grabbed an extra plate, putting a good portion of the meal you made onto it, and set it across from your spot at the dining room table. As you were sitting back down, Shouto walked towards you slowly, warily. It was like he was trying not to spook you. Like if he made any abrupt movements, you would jump up out of your chair and run for the hills. In his hand, you noticed, he held a daisy, which he placed on the table. Daisies always used to be a thing between the two of you. On your first date, he had taken you on a picnic in a meadow surrounded by the white dainty flowers. Daisies meant that you loved the other person. Taking a forkful of the food and placing it into his mouth, you could see him relax a bit. He always had a soft spot for your cooking, no matter what he felt like. The silence was overwhelming as the two of you ate, so Shouto decided to clear his throat.

“It’s been a long time since we had dinner together, huh.” He says. This simple sentence, just those 11 words, set you off. You slam your fork onto the table making Shouto jump a bit in his chair.

“Yes, Shoto, it has been. It’s been 3 months and 5 days since we last shared a meal together.” You say, venom leaking from your voice. Shouto instantly knew what this ‘talk’ you wanted to have was about. Just as he was about to open his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “No,” you simply say, “let me speak first. I could forgive the first couple of weeks when you came home late or said you had to stay over at the agency, but good god, what has been consuming all of your time that has made you spend more hours there than you have at home? I know for a fact that Midoriya works in the same department and has the same title and responsibilities that he has, but he’s home at 7:30 on the dot every night to see his wife and have dinner with her.” You snarl. “You haven’t been visiting home, I’ve called Natsuo and Fuyumi to ask if you were there and they said no. You haven’t been visiting your mother because the nurse makes sure to send an alert to our computer system for security reasons. So what, what has consumed your life in such a way that you don’t want to spend your time with me anymore?” As much as you tried, you couldn’t help it. You feel the moisture on your cheeks before you can comprehend that you're crying. Shouto’s face falls, his heart breaking as he can see yours has been crumbled for a long time.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry,” he says, his gaze never faltering from yours. He takes a deep breath and stands from his seat, making his way over to yours and kneeling in front of you. “I…,” he choked out. You always knew that putting his feelings into words has never been one of Shouto’s strong suits, so you granted him the time to slowly get his thoughts together. “I freaked out.” He said simply.

“W-what?” You said, confused.

“I know we’ve been together for a long time, and I know that you’re looking for someone to settle down with and I freaked out because I didn’t think that I was a person who could do that.” You close your eyes and exhale. “I’ve been staying out late because I’ve been going to counseling, and I couldn’t let it get in the way of work. I wanted to help myself so that I could make the both of us happy and partake in an equal and loving relationship. I know I should’ve told you, but I… I just couldn’t get myself to spit it out.” You slid from the chair to your knees so you could be on the same level as Shouto was. Shouto rustled around in his jacket pocket and what was in his hands made your eyes widen. It was a small velvet box which left little to imagine what was inside. Before he could say another word, you put a hand on top of it to prevent him from opening it. This caused panic to flash in his eyes as they darted up to look into yours. 

“Shouto… I love you. You know that I love you, but are you sure?” You make sure to squeeze his hand. “I need you to be completely sure before you do this, because I am, and I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.”

“Yes.” He says, instantly. You smile and lean your forehead against his. What confuses him is when you grab the box and nestle it back into his coat pocket.

“This is not me saying no. I just think we need to get back into our old groove before this happens. We both know that we want to reach that milestone, but we need to run there first, okay?” You ask. Shouto exhales and reaches his hand up to cup your cheek.

“Okay. You share a kiss and let yourselves cry and hold the other. Shouto’s strong arms now move to tighten around your waist, which sends you over the moon. He hadn’t done that in a long time. 

“Let’s go to bed, yeah? I don’t want you to be late tomorrow.” You whisper, sniffling.

“No. I’ll shoot Midoriya a text telling him that I’m not gonna be in tomorrow. I want to make up for lost time.” Elated, more tears trail down your cheek, but these were happy ones. Letting Shouto pick you up, he carried you with such care to your soft bed and helped you get changed into pajamas. He taps your shoulders to get you to hold your arms straight up so that he can slide the blouse you wore to work today off of you. You unclip the pinchy bra you wore yourself and slid down the flowy pants you wore until they pooled around your feet. Shouto handed you one of his shirts, the one you’ve always had a soft spot for. It was now ragged with holes and falling apart at the seams, but the softness of the material enveloped you as he helped your arms through the sleeves. When you poked your head through the top of the shirt, Shouto gently gathered your hair and pulled it out of the shirt, laying it down your back. He himself then got changed and climbed into bed next to you. The two of you were like magnets with opposite poles, immediately being attracted to the other’s side. You lay your head on his chest and you feel his chin find its place on top of your head. You finally felt peaceful. Felt loved. And, more importantly, felt Shouto at your side.

“I love you,” he breathes. The air he exhales tickles your neck which only makes you nestle into him more.

“And I love you,” You murmur.

“We’re going to get married one day, okay?” He says, brushing a hand over your hair and playing with the ends of it.

“Okay.” You smile, a smile gracing your face as you drift off. Shouto’s heart didn’t slow to its normal pace until hours later. He was proud of himself. He finally admitted to himself that he was ready to enter a relationship where he knew that both of you felt the same way. For the entire time the two of you dated, he knew that he loved you, but he was terrified that one day, a switch would go off and his parents’ relationship would become yours. But now, with you in his arms agreeing to marry him one day, although he hadn’t yet formally proposed, guided him into a blissful sleep. Dreamworld decided to be nice to him, because all he could picture in his mind as he slumbered away were images of you, rings, and daisies

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Only You: Dean x Reader (Requested)

Requested by: @littlemissmoxley: I was hoping for a Dean x Reader please? I’m fairly new to the fandom so I’ve only seen 3 seasons so far lol. I was hoping for a story where the reader feels like she is constantly compared to Cassie in Dean’s eyes even though she is a hunter too and she confides in Sam but Dean overhears the conversation and tries to convince the reader that he appreciates her for who she is and is sorry if he made her feel differently

A/N: Welcome to the family! We hope you enjoy your stay! I like comparing this fandom to the song Hotel California because like they say “you can check out any time you like but you can never leave!” lol don’t worry, that’s meant as a joke. It’s a very fun and very loving family so I hope you enjoy it!

Had to jump all the way back in season 1 for this and Dean gave me MAJOR feels throughout but totally worth it!

Also I don’t think this is my best work but I did my best

Warnings: Angst, swearing, angry!Dean (that’s a sexy warning) fluff, slight mention of sex but very light

Word Count: 2,752

Taglist requests are open! 

Supernatural Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

You had been living and working with the Winchester Brothers for the past year after they called on you for a little help with a case. You knew their Dad sort of well at one point in time after he saved you from a rather sticky situation with a vengeful spirit. At the time, you were working late and had gotten off of work when the attack happened but it ended up working out where John came to your rescue and made sure you were okay until he moved on to his next case. However, before he left you, he called his sons and had them come and stay with you longer because you were injured. John Winchester was not a man who would stay behind for an extended period of time to help some civilian but what he failed to learn but Sam and Dean stuck around to learn, was you weren’t a civilian; you were a hunter too. When they got to your apartment that night, you threw them for a loop.

“So what did our Dad say attacked you?” Sam, the youngest brother you found out, asked you.

“He said some kind of mental subject high on meth or something? Some total bullshit if you ask me. I know I was attacked by a vengeful spirit,” you say nonchalantly. 

Both brothers just gave you a bizarre look, like they were freaking out over how you knew what was going on. No one needed to lie to you because you were aware of what was happening and that was unusual to the brothers. 

“Wait, our  Dad told us you were a civilian?” The eldest brother, Dean, asked.

“Yes that’s what he told you but see boys, your Dad didn’t stick around me long enough to know the truth; I’m a hunter too. I guess it was pure luck your Dad was close by when I was attacked because I knew I was getting myself into some shady shit when I had to dig out some corpse to stop a track of killings in Tucson but I wasn’t expecting more than one spirit to be involved here,” you explain, smirking as the tension was drawn away from the brothers. 

A big part of every hunter's existence was to keep the job a secret from civilians; no one usually believes you anyways. So always having to come with an excuse for what happened when civilians almost died is exhausting. Lucky for the Winchesters, they didn’t have to worry about lying with you. After staying with you for a few days to make sure nothing was still trying to come after you, it was Dean who decided to have you live with them. He insisted on it due to how severe your injuries were but it didn’t bother you; you liked his company. Not that he really took care of you, he was just concerned. It was Sam who really took the time to care for you and that was how you and he had gotten so close. In fact, you confided in Sam about everything that was going on in your life so when you started doubting your relationship a year later, you went to him.

“Hey Sam, I need your advice on something,” you asked, going to see him in the War Room. He was currently sitting at the Map table behind his laptop, looking intently at the screen in front of him.

“Hey (y/n) sure, what’s going on?” He asked, eyes leaving the screen and landing on you.

“Well it’s about my relationship,” you say and Sam grows more concerned. 

“Dean’s not hurting you, is he?” He asks, jumping to one of the most extreme scenarios. You had started going out with Dean a few months after you 

“No, no, of course not. He’s been nothing but a gentleman but something seems a bit off.” 

You and Dean started dating a little while after you agreed to go with them on their hunts. It was actually really great and you liked him a lot, but lately, you began to question everything about your relationship.

“Off? Like how?” Sam asks, motioning for you to sit down across from him. 

“Well, he uh, did something odd,” you say, a bit hesitant on sharing what happened. 

“What did he do?” Sam pressed you.

“Well, uh, we were making out the other day and he said another girl's name,” you say, cheeks turning bright red but you knew you could trust Sam. He’s not the kind of guy to make fun of you or tease you that often; he was sweeter than that. Unlike his brother of course, who thrives off teasing you.

“Who’s name did he say?” Sam questioned.

“Cassie? I-I don’t know who she is or where that came from but it was weird. And when I confronted him about it, he blew me off and wouldn’t say anything about it. Not to mention, he won’t even come near me,” You explain everything that happened. 

“Oh….shit,” Sam said, knowing exactly what was going on. 

“Sam? Who-who’s Cassie?” You ask. 

“Cassie was Dean’s, first love. He was crazy about her and we ran into her again about a year ago. She called him because her Dad was killed by some racist truck that was driven by another vengeful spirit,” Sam explained his brother’s odd behavior. 

“Oh, well that explains a lot. He-he probably has been comparing me to her this whole time! And I think I’m failing,” you say, an expression of realization on your face. 

“No (Y/N) that’s not…” Sam tried to call after you but you left the room and went out to the motel lobby.

“How can I help you?” The young girl behind the front desk asked you. 

“Yes, I need to get a room. I’m not sure for how long yet but I can pay for one and I need one as far away from room 113 as possible,” You say, sliding the fake credit card over to the lady.

She quickly took down all your information and put it all through her computer, verifying you wanted a room farther away from Sam and Dean’s room, before she finalized a few things, sliding your card back to you and a room key, bidding you a ‘pleasant stay.’ You walked back to get your belongings from your shared room with the boys and before walking in the door, you scoped the surrounding area to ensure you wouldn’t run into either brother and when you were sure the coast was clear, you frantically start packing your bag, making sure to get in and get out as fast as possible. Zipping the bag, you scribble down a note to Dean, and set it on the table by the front door, and head out. Making your way to the opposite side of the property, you find your room, unlock it and let yourself into your new home for as long as you and the boys would be in town investigating. 

Dean’s POV

“Hey (Y/N/N), Sam, where are you guys?” I called out for the others living in the room with me to see if someone could help me with these groceries and take out what I bought. 

“Hey Dean, let me grab some of that for you,” Sam says, grabbing some of the bags out of my hands and placing them on one of the counters. 

“Where’s (y/n)? She said she was getting hungry earlier and I got her favorite food,” I say, excited to surprise my girl.

“Um, she’s not here,” Sam says, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Well, where is she?” I ask.

“She left,” Sam kept his response short.

“Sam, I need a much better explanation than just that.”

“There’s a note for you on the table by the door,” he says, unloading the bags of groceries. 

I walk back to the door and there is, in fact, a note with my name on the top.

Dean,

I think it’s best if we part ways for a while since...well you know what happened; the incident. I talked to Sam about it and he told me who she was. I get it, Cassie was your first love and after just seeing her recently and hooking up with her again, I’d probably say her name too. 

I’m not mad, in fact, I understand. I just think it’s best we aren’t in a romantic relationship since you’re not over her. Makes me wonder if you’ve been comparing me to her this entire time and I believe I fell short. I did a search on her and she is stunning in every way and I simply am not. 

I’ll stay to help you and Sam with the remainder of this case but afterward, I’ll head back home. I know this may seem surprising to you but ultimately, it'll be ideal for all involved. 

-(Y/N) 

“Son of a bitch!” I said, crumpling up the note and throwing it at the floor. 

“What’s wrong, what did the note say?” Sam asked.

“She left me, Sam. We were making out the other day and I said Cassie instead of (y/n) and now she thinks I’m still hooked up on her and that I’ve been comparing her to Cassie this entire time!” I yell, throw punching the wall. 

“Well, she couldn’t have gone too far, she hates being by herself,” he says, trying to add some comfort to the situation. 

“I can’t believe she thinks I still give two shits about Cassie! I haven’t even thought about her in the last year except for that one time,” I say, feeling shitty about this whole thing. I should’ve been more careful and paid better attention to (y/n). She probably thinks I don’t even care about her at all since we’ve been so busy lately with this case. 

“I gotta find her Sammy,” I say, feeling helpless about everything but I at least needed to get started finding her and explaining to her where I’m coming from.

“Let’s go up to the front desk and see if she left anywhere,”  Sam suggests,  making me remember why I’m lucky to have him. I wouldn’t have thought of that on my own.

We head up to the desk and are met with a girl who looks like she’s just fallen in love. Guessing she finds us attractive by the way her eyes travel up and down both of us. 

“How can I help you, boys?” She asks, smirking at Sam. 

“We’re looking for a girl, about yay high, (y/e/c), (y/h/c) she goes by the name (y/n/n)? Have you seen her anywhere?” 

“Oh, she checked into another room,” the girl says and I sigh in relief; she’s still here.

“Great, what room is she in?” I ask.

“I can’t tell you that, Sir,” she says to me, rolling her eyes and popping a bubble with her gum. 

“I’m Agent Ackles, this is my partner Agent Padalecki, (y/n/n) is our partner and we need to know her whereabouts as soon as possible. We believe she might be in danger,” I say, flashing my FBI badge, Sam following my lead, and the girl quickly jumps to the computer and pulls up your information.

“She checked into room 2 earlier this afternoon,” the girl says.

“Where is room 2?” Sam asks, knowing all the rooms we’ve seen have been in the hundreds. 

“On the opposite side of the property; those are the single-digit rooms.” 

“Thank you,” I say, folding the badge and putting it away.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Sam asks.

“Nah, I got this. I’m hoping to work this out with her and if we do well,” I say and smirk, Sam immediately knowing what I was implying.

“Right, well thanks for that. I’m going to head back to the room then and you just call if something doesn’t go as planned,” he says and heads back to our room. 

I follow the directions the receptionist girl gave me and after a surprisingly long walk, I find room 2. That girl wasn’t kidding; it really was on the opposite side of the property. I go over to the door and raise my fist to knock, pausing just a moment to gather my thoughts before finally making contact with the door. 

“Just a minute!” She calls from the other side of the door and then she goes quiet for a while. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Look (y/n) I got your note, can we talk about this please?” I say, almost pleading for her to open up. 

“I don’t have anything more to say to you,” she says.

“But I have plenty! Come one (y/n/n) please, let me explain.” She opens the door and looks pissed off. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“Because you love me,” I test, knowing we haven’t said that to each other yet.

“And how do you know that?” I can tell she was affected by the comment but she kept fighting me.

“Because I know you and if you didn’t care anymore, you would’ve left.” 

“Fine,” she says and steps aside, allowing me into the room.

“Look, (y/n) I’m sorry okay? I don’t know what happened that day. Maybe I was thinking about her subconsciously but I promise you, I am crazy about you and only you.” 

“But you told her about our work; she obviously means a lot to you,” 

“Meant a lot to me, yes, but YOU are the one who means more to me than, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but more than Baby.” 

Her head snapped over to look at me, she wasn’t expecting that one and neither was I.

“I mean more to you than your prized Baby?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow to see if there were any signs of deceit but I was sincere.

“Yes, sweetheart. You are my girl and I’m crazy about you. You’re the first person I want to see when I wake up in the morning and the last one I want to see before I fall asleep at night. I want to be there when you’re not feeling well so I can cuddle you and tickle you until you feel better again. I want to cook you meals and I want to be able to binge-watch Scooby-Doo with you. I want to play with your hair and see you fall asleep with your head in my lap because you’re so incredibly beautiful and I cannot believe you are mine. I am so sorry you thought you weren’t good enough for me or that I’ve been comparing you to Cassie this whole time because I haven’t been. I’ve been pinching myself every single day I see you and get to kiss you because I’m still thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream and it’ll all be gone. I hope that isn’t true and that this is all real. After all, I can’t imagine my life without you in it because I love you. That’s right, I love you (y/n) and I don’t care who knows it! I am so in love with you that I was going to go insane if I hadn’t told you,” I fully express all my feelings, in a non-Dean way. 

She keeps quiet and just when I think the worst happens, she makes her way over to me and grabs my head, bringing my lips to hers in a kiss. Instinctively, I grab her hips, holding her tight, and push her against the nearest wall. She’s completely trapped as my lips make the kiss more passionate by traveling down to her neck and over the tops of her breasts that were kind of spilling over by her pajama tank top. Just before anything gets too heated, I pull away to make sure we were on the same page, that she was okay with whatever plans I had conjured in my head and when she didn’t seem to hesitate and she lifted her shirt over her head and threw it on the floor beside her, I knew she was all in. I’ll admit, I forgot what I was doing for a minute as I pictured her lying under me as I do some rather fun things to her, but she snaps me out of it and I go out to put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, slamming it and locking it behind me. Yep, she was my girl again. 

Taglist: @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @tloveswriting @akshi8278 @baby1967impala @deansmyapplepie @marvelfansworld @spnjediavenger

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {1}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

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

rating: explicit

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

words: 26.3k

summary:

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s one of your closest friends after all.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where were you going with this?

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

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

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

“Yours and mine?” Jimin queries.

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

Jimin just shrugs. “Makes more sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asks, visibly perplexed.

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

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

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

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

You force a laugh to calm him down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I just want to say-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That felt… weird.

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it’s just that Jimin-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groan, hiding your flaming face behind your hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

He knows?

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

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

He knows. All this time, he knew?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, wasn’t that refreshing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dinah.

Fuck.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was then that all of you tried to intervene.

Unsuccessfully that is.

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

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

Only to find her in bed with someone else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They broke up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So he should know better!” you retort.

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

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

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

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

Ana chuckles, “It is “like a hawk”.”

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

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

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

“I promise.”

.

.

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

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

If writing a novel was that easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widen in horror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

Very long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s that a win-win situation?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suck it up, demoness.

“Well, if you’re sure-”

“We’d really appreciate it-”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin giggles. “I just wanted to know!”

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

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

Well, all except one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hate feeling vulnerable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

He’s a terrible, terrible friend.

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

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

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

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

Dinah was good at that. Making him forget.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paused in the first few minutes of Space Jam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His smile widens. And then it falls.

God, he wants to-.

He stops the thought before it emerges.

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

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

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

Next morning you wake up feeling fully rested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck was that?

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

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

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

Jimin leans away immediately and you almost lean forward.

Y/N, what the fuck?

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

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

Suddenly very aware of Jimin next to you.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about a little competition…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t last for long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A lump gets stuck in your throat.

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

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

Like it’s the only thing you see.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. That doesn’t sound any better.

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

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

God, what did I just say?!

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

Bottom line is you don’t like Jimin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You suppose that’s fair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re just worried for him.

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

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

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

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

But his lips remain pierced shut.

When the silence gets overwhelming you decide to break it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop dancing with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were about to lean in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes find Ana’s.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not until Ana pointed it out.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t tell Jimin. Not right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You talk to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll be fine.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god, he shouldn’t talk to him.

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

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

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

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

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

Not about the movie.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You joke about it.

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

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

Though both pairs of eyes widen at that.

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

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

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

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

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

You let your eyes find his own.

You’re not at all ready.

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

No, you’re not ready.

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

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

And then you swear you feel-.

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin rushes to explain. “It got cancelled.”

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

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

Hoseok’s confusion is back when you disappear into your room and he turns to Jimin who also gets up and discreetly readjusts his pants. “What’s up with her?”

“Wouldn’t know. Actually, I’m quite sleepy too, so goodnight!” Jimin rushes to exclaim and then he’s off, walking rushedly towards his room.

Leaving Hoseok alone in the living room and baffled as hell.

.

.

Your legs can’t take you into your bedroom any faster and you rush to close the door with a slight lightness of breath.

Oh, god.

What just happened?

Your knees still feel weak, legs trembling and you immediately sit on the floor. Not trusting your limbs to carry you as far as your bed is, eyes and mouth wide in shock as you bring your hands to cool your heated cheeks.

You’re not crazy, you couldn’t have imagined this. You swear it wasn’t just your wishful thinking. No matter how much you want this, there’s no way your mind could have imagined such an intense way of staring. His eyes seemed like black holes, swallowing you whole and you would’ve gladly let him if Hoseok hadn’t interrupted.

Which reminds you. Right before Hoseok walked in you’re certain you felt the edges of his fingertips moving. And not away, as if belatedly realizing of his slip up.

Moving upwards.

“Fuck…” is your breathless realization, biting your lip as heat pools between your thighs. Making you reminisce of your little rendez-vous eight months ago and all the ways he made you feel, of how he felt pressed against you, inside you, drawing moans out of your lips as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

How his mouth felt against your skin.

You slap some sense into yourself.

No! What were you thinking?! What was he thinking?! He has a girlfriend! A girlfriend whose sudden departure had him feeling upset merely hours ago. Maybe this behaviour was just a cry for attention caused by this event and you shouldn’t encourage it.

There was attraction, that is true. If there wasn’t any attraction between the two of you, you wouldn’t have slept together all those months ago in the first place. But this is not the time, nor the place. Not when he has a girlfriend and not when your feelings are so much more than just that.

It’s bad news and you gotta do your best to nip it in the bud. Crush it before the frustration gets any stronger and threatens to take hold of your sanity.

You let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs. As if the fresh air could bring a new sense of logic, resolve and determination to help you get through this unscathed.

You get up off the floor to get ready for sleep.

.

.

Only, it’s close to 4 am and you still can’t sleep.

You fuss around in your bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound breaking the otherwise calm serenity of your dark bedroom.

You huff in annoyance, throwing the covers off of you, suddenly too warm for your liking. You’ve been trying to sleep for three hours now, but instead of blissful numbness, when your eyes close your mind is filled with the look in Jimin’s eyes from this afternoon. Turning you on despite your best efforts.

You sit up, back on your headboard, hands crossing over your chest as you tap your fingers on your arm. The shorts you wear to sleep feel uncomfortably stifling with sweat and you shuffle quickly out of them.

Only a particular movement has you clenching your thighs from the pleasurable friction on your clit and you bite your lip to keep the moan from spilling out.

Jimin’s dark eyes come to mind once more.

You inhale deeply, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, now dressed in only that and your panties. You bite your lip once more in thought and concealed shame.

You shouldn’t.

But your inhibitions don’t stop you from recalling that night.

{{You throw another shot down with a blissful smile as you watch Jimin do the same, only with significantly less enthusiasm than you. It’s already been one hour since you’ve been here, drinking your guts to help him move on, and already two girls walked away from him. It might be the way he slouches on the bar, droopy face that screams “recently dumped and still in love” but you refuse to leave here tonight without Jimin getting laid. Or at least having some fun.

“Come on, I’m sure someone else will approach you!” you nudge him playfully and Jimin scoffs as he proceeds to order another drink.

“Yeah, right. If anything I’ll just make a fool of myself again…” he grumbles, eyes focused on the empty shot glasses on the bar.

You throw an arm around his shoulders, determined to cheer him up. “Well, it’s because you’ve gotten rusty, bud! Give it some time, you’ll get better!” you observe vigorously, poking his cheek but the gloom expression doesn’t abandon him.

“I don’t think I will…” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do.

“What? Why?” your perplexion is audible in your words and Jimin lets out a breath.

“I just… I don’t get why would anyone bother to approach me. What’s there to like anyway…?” he admits quietly. His eyes avoid yours but you can see the sorrow, the defeat lacing their edges. The response fills you with unbridled rage over how her insistent verbal abuse has seeped into his mind and made him question himself and his worth like this.}}

Even now, that rage hasn’t subsided completely, finding yourself getting pissed at how much his previous relationship with Dinah had ruined him.

{{“Follow me for a second,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag him out of his stool to a more quiet place of the bar.

You step into the hallway that leads to the rooftop with a pretty begrudging Jimin trailing after you. The corridor is currently devoid of people, hence rendering it the perfect spot for what you're about to say.

“Why are we here?” Jimin asks like a weary teenager, crossing his arms on his chest as he rests his body on the wall.

“We’re here because you’re a freaking idiot and people would’ve probably stared if I laid it on you back there! You seriously cannot believe there’s nothing likeable about you!” you scold him with your hands on your waist.

Jimin’s eyes fall to his shoes, a pout forming on his lips.

“Well, there isn’t…” he responds genuinely and you swear you’re gonna swat him with a broom.

“Well, better buckle up soldier ‘cause I’m about to send your princely ass to confidence town,” you declare with ferocity and Jimin regards you with a confused but amused smile.

“So am I a soldier or a prince, I’m confused.”

“You’re both, you’re a prince who served on the front line in the dragon war,” you respond, deciding to humour him, seeing at least that brings a smile back on his lips.

“Is that from your book?” he asks back, a very carefully-hidden smirk gracing his face.

“No, it’s not, I- Hey!” you stop once you realize what he’s been doing, “Stop distracting me! Now stop and listen to me you bastard!” you point your finger at him and his smile shows he’s not in the least sorry.

“People go crazy about you everywhere you go! Seriously you’re the most likeable person I know, I could see that even back in high school when we didn’t hang out as much! You’re just… You’re the most perfect human being ever!” you exclaim with zeal, desperate to make your best friend see himself as you do.

Jimin shakes his head even if a small blush starts to bloom on his cheeks. “Now you’re just messing with me…”

“No I’m not!” you interject, taking a step closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’re the kindest and smartest, I mean you passed your college exams with flying colours!” a shy smile graces his lips at that, “And on top of that, you’re so handsome! I mean look at your lips dude! People literally pay to get their lips like this!” an impromptu laugh escapes him and resonates in the empty hall, “And the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh is just plain adorable, but on the other hand girls - and guys - would kill to lick those abs, or have a grasp at your pecs,” you cite all of Jimin’s great characteristics, but in your desire to show him how perfect he is, a slight slip of the tongue happens.

“And your thighs-” you begin but instantly stop, regret filling your mind as soon as you realise what you were about to say.

Truth is you always had a weakness for his thighs. You admit, his body is pretty phenomenal as a whole but his thighs, in particular, are a certain weak spot for you. In shame, you admit you fantasized about them trapping you between them more than once.

But, alas, Jimin catches on that and he stands up straight, a questioning look in his eyes.

“What about my thighs…?” he asks curiously, eyes regarding you with interest as they dare you to continue. You swallow nervously and the movement has Jimin’s eyes glint with sudden realization. 

“Um, they… um,” you lose your train of thought as the look in his eyes changes to something darker and he takes a step closer.

“They are...um, toned!...” you say in relief at finding a pretty innocent word but Jimin doesn’t slow down. You take a step back.

“And…?” he demands, not at all satisfied by your explanation, unrelenting and asking for more. He takes another step forward to cover your own, diminishing the distance between you.

“And firm and… sturdy…” you mumble as if in a daze as the predatory glint in his eyes only grows.}}

In real-time, the look in Jimin’s eyes matches the one from earlier tonight and you rub your thighs together for some needed relief.

{{“And…?” he asks, voice low and commanding as he effectively traps you against the wall, palms resting on each side of your face, dark eyes pinning you in place.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden emptiness between your legs as your eyes fall to his plump lips.

“And... thick…” you finish softly, breathlessly as your chest moves quickly with each intake of breath, struggling to keep your head straight.}}

Your hands find their way down your body as if they have a mind of their own.

{{“So you like my thighs then…” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips, a soft gasp rolling off your tongue.

“I- I don’t…” you don’t even manage to convince yourself and the predatory smile returns on his lips.}}

Your hand rests on the hem of your underwear.

{{“Really?... So…” he trails off, smirk ever-present as he slowly moves his right leg. “... it wouldn’t matter if I did this?....” he teases and presses his thigh against your clothed centre.}}

They move the article of clothing aside to press at your aching clit.

{{You don’t manage to conceal the gasp that trudges over to a moan, as his toned muscle presses against your panty-clad clit underneath your skirt. Your hands fly to grab at his biceps and a low chuckle falls from his lips as his face lowers towards your neck.

Your cunt clenches over nothing and your hips buck into his thigh desperately.

“Do you want more…?” he whispers with a tantalizing hum, intimately beneath your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel his thigh flexing against you as if teasing you about what’s to come if you say yes.

In your drunken and lust infused mind you can’t find a single reason to say no.}}

Your fingers move slowly, rolling the swollen nub between them as a quiet sigh breaks free from your lips, remembering the way his thigh felt against you. Your movements are soft, careful, not wanting to rush it as even more memories flood your mind.

{{It doesn’t take long for Jimin to take you home after you say yes. You drive back in his car, barely keeping your hands to yourself as he drives. It takes all your willpower not to make him stop the car and ride him in the middle of the street. Instead, you only let one hand palm him through his jeans and the other dive beneath your skirt to toy with your folds. Pleasuring both of you at the same time and having Jimin going completely mad with want, a promise hiding in his eyes as he drives.

Once you reach your building, you’re immediately on each other, not caring who might see. You climb up the old stairs in a haze, hands exploring each other’s bodies, grabbing at the tender part, lips tracing the exposed skin until you reach your apartment. Your back hits the front door, a moan rolling off your tongue and Jimin swallows it eagerly as his lips devour yours.

His hands are rough at your hips, grinding his crotch against you, your bare thighs rubbing against the roughness of his jeans as you blindly search for your keys.

“Could you- could you stop for a second and help me get the door…” you mumble against his mouth when your fingers finally grasp at the metallic key in your pocket.

Jimin doesn’t stop kissing you though. “Honestly, I don’t mind fucking you senseless against it,” he growls at you, biting your bottom lip as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Fuck…” the image his words paint arouse you a great deal more than what you’d like to admit. Your head hits the door as the image floods your mind.

“No, we can’t…” you say, still somehow self-conscious, “People might see…” you mumble with closed eyes as Jimin leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collar bones.

“Let them see then…” he responds with confidence as he grips at your chin and forces you to look at him.

His eyes are hooded, completely dark under his heavy gaze on you. He licks his lips as he stares at you like he wants to ravish you and you lean your head down to capture his thumb between your lips.

You stare at him innocently through your eyelashes, sucking the digit into your mouth. Jimin’s eyes widen even more. You roll your tongue teasingly around him, making sure your eyes remain on him, as he breathes heavily and then you let it go with a loud “pop”.

Jimin stares back at you. Tongue running across his bottom lip before-.

“Fuck, okay, okay. I changed my mind. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this but me.” he curses softly, before taking the keys from your hands to open the door.}}

Your fingers are faster now, soft whimpers falling from your lips. Too quiet for anyone to hear as your other hand travels beneath your T-shirt to grasp at your breast.

{{You’re a mess of limbs and kisses as you stumble towards Jimin’s room. Jackets have been discarded somewhere in the living room and you don’t even bother on closing the door. Hoseok’s is bound to spend the evening at Ana’s, so you don’t have to worry about being quiet either. You have the place to yourselves.

“I want to suck you off, can I suck you off?” you mumble between kisses, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You can’t wait to feel the weight of his length on your tongue and judging by how he’s straining against his jeans you’d say he can’t wait either.

Another curse rolls from his tongue as he rushes to help you undo the last few buttons. “Yes. Fuck yes,” he grunts in anticipation once his shirt is off.

You push him to sit at the edge of his bed, too impatiently. You kneel between his legs, hands running up and down his thighs as he leans back, palms supporting his weight against the mattress as he stares at you lazily, biting his lip.

You let your eyes wander over the expanse of his smooth chest, taking in the sight of his sturdy muscles, his perked up nipples and his sculpted abs. A high pitched whine escapes you at how absolutely perfect he is. You want to ruin him.

Jimin smirks lazily at you. “Like what you see?”

You only nod, licking your lips and indulging yourself.

You move upwards carefully, placing a few butterfly kisses against his chest, letting your tongue roll over his nipples, which he greatly appreciates if his loud moans are anything to get by.}}

You roll one perked nipple beneath your fingertips. A quiet moan comes off your lips in response and you buck your hips into your hand, aching for something more.

{{You move lower, letting your tongue trail the edges of his abs. The warm muscle drives the man insane by the traitorous pace it takes as his chest rises and falls with every breath.

His hand winds up tangled in your hair, threading through the lock to tug softly at the roots and making you groan in arousal.

You’re quick in unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them downwards until they’re off. Anticipation rolls over you in waves as you move to the waistband of his boxers and Jimin tucks some strands away from your face.

You let his cock spring free and it taps against his stomach. Your mouth salivates at the sight. Pulsating veins run down its shaft, its head a pretty pink, tip glistening with precum and you lick your lips with wanton. He’s not very big, not in length, but the size of his girth seems to compensate for that more than enough. He’s thick, thicker than what you’re used to and even if you had some lengthier ones, you’re sure this one will put them all to shame.

Jimin’s patience runs low and a low whine echoes in his dulcet voice.

“Don’t just stare at it…” he mumbles and for the first time since the club, he sounds almost shy. Something which makes your stomach flip in arousal.

A smirk meets his eyes as you lower your head, his hand still in your locks and you take a tentative lick at the tip.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, eyes never abandoning you or your movements as you rest your hands at his thighs for leverage. You keep on teasing him, feeling his muscles tense beneath your palms and a crooked smile paints your lips.

You lower your mouth again, taking his head into your wet cavern and a soft moan breaks free from Jimin’s lips. His hand tightens its grip at your hair, nudging softly forward, not enough to be forceful but enough to clue you into what he wants.

Instead, you hollow your cheeks and a sharp gasp escapes him.}}

Finally, you move your underwear aside to tease your entrance and proceed to insert one finger into your throbbing cunt.

{{You begin moving your head up and down his length slowly, torturously and his eyes roll back into his head as it lols back. You don’t increase your pace, letting your jaw adjust to his wide girth, slowly letting each inch delve into your mouth. 

“Fuck…, you-” Jimin tries to talk only for another gasp to tear through his lips as you take him deeper. Coating him with your saliva and hollowing your cheeks again. He moans loudly, his hand rolling your hair into a fist, tugging at the roots as you take him fully, feeling him resting heavily on your tongue.

You pick up the pace steadily, bobbing your head and nails digging into the unmarred skin of his thighs. A hiss tumbles from his mouth in response.

You readjust your position to take off your shirt and bra. You then put more weight into your knees to give your full focus on sucking him off. You keep your cheeks hollowed, going faster and faster, a sturdy grip on Jimin’s bare thighs as your eyes remain stuck on his face.

You swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Jimin’s face as he drowns in pleasure. His eyes are tightly shut, scrunched in concentration to not miss the feeling of your mouth on him. His mouth is agape as he struggles to breathe properly, soft gasps escaping his mouth instead.

It strikes you hard; how magnificently ruined he looks. How absolutely wrecked you have him, and the stickiness in your underwear grows knowing he looks like this because of you.

Then he opens his eyes lazily, orbs lost in desire and as they rest on your bare tits, his hips instinctively buck into your mouth with a cry before he stops himself.}}

You take a quick break to stop yourself from finishing too early and instead pay attention back to your clit.

{{“Fuck, stop for a second…” he breathes out harshly, pushing you away from his cock as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Why?” you say thoroughly confused and Jimin chuckles breathlessly at your puppy stare. He then moves forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Cause I was about to cum on your tits and I’d rather do that inside you…” he whispers against your mouth and you find yourself biting your lip to suppress a moan.

“Now please let me taste you…” he mumbles seductively as he forces you up. You stand up in front of him, his head in level with your breasts. His eyes stare up at you, wide and deceptively innocent before he wraps his mouth around one nipple and rolls it with his tongue. You gasp out loud, arching your chest against him for more. His fingers graze your thighs in the meantime, moving upwards to wrap around your underwear and get rid of it, leaving you bare beneath your skirt.

“I don’t…” another gasp interrupts your words as he runs a finger through your folds. “I don’t think I have the patience for that…” you stutter, hips rolling over his fingers.

A harsh suck at your nipple has you crying out loud, grabbing at Jimin’s locks. While he drives two fingers in you, without warning.

“Fuck, Jimin!” your high pitched protest resonates around the apartment and Jimin curses, moving the two fingers slowly inside you.

“Fuck, you take my fingers so well, baby…” he murmurs against your chest, his low timbre sounding like heaven in your ears. His fingers move slowly against your walls, just barely find your g-spot that has you seeing stars.

“You’re so wet, look at you…” he brings the two fingers between you. They glisten in the soft light of his nightstand, strands of your arousal connecting the two digits as he moves them into a V shape. He stares at them, mesmerised before pushing one digit into his mouth. He moans at the taste, before pushing the other finger towards your lips.

Instead, you grasp at both fingers and suck at them obediently, making sure to suck all your slick from his fingers. Your eyes remain on Jimin, whose eyes almost roll in bliss.

“Okay. Fuck, okay. Get that skirt off and get on the bed,” comes his urgent reply as he all but throws you on the mattress after the skirt has joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You lay across his sheets, spreading your legs wide for him and Jimin all but falls on his face trying to take off his boxers, making you giggle in response.

Once they’re off, his movements are more smooth as he steps on to the bed. His eyes are dark, swimming in a pool of desire, never straying away from your face as he crawls towards you. His hands rest on each side of your head, hips pressing against your own as his eyes fall to your lips.

You’re breathing heavily underneath him, chest brushing against him with every breath and you arch your back to press closer against him.

“Do you have a condom…?” you say before biting softly at his earlobe, your hand wrapping sloppily around his thick length.

He bucks into your palm desperately before he nods. He reaches his hand on his nightstand, never leaving the warmth of your body, and grabs the foil package. You take it from him and rip it open with your teeth, too fucked out to wait and Jimin gapes at you as you pretend not to notice the twitch on his dick.

You roll it on him as he lets out a long breath and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Are you sure about this…?” he asks cautiously, giving you one last chance to step back.

You grab at his neck to push him downwards into a kiss. Your lips are rough against him and he presses further, letting his tongue dive into your mouth to find your own. Your kiss is sloppy, urgent, not caring for tenderness. Getting you even more aroused as Jimin instinctively rolls his hips against yours.

“Okay, got it,” is his answer to your kiss. His hand grasps at his cock and giving it a few pumps before sheathing inside you with one sharp thrust.}}

You let two of your fingers dive inside you at the memory, drawing a long moan, quiet enough to be heard only in the confinements of your own room.

{{Both of you moan loudly at the intrusion, feeling complete and utter fullness with the way Jimin is pulsating inside you. It takes a while to get used to him, breathing slowly to help yourself relax as Jimin presses soft kisses to the skin above your breasts.

Soon though his kisses turn hungrier, messier, bordering into bites and you can’t help but moan and clench at the sensation.

Jimin hisses and reacts with another sharp thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure.

He starts a brutal pace, slow but rough deliberate thrusts, moving you further into the bed.

He pushes your legs on your chest in a new position, as he leans on top of you and drives his cock even deeper into you. He hits your g-spot almost repeatedly, having you crying out and your eyes well up by how good it feels.

“Fuck, Jimin, fuck, don’t stop…” you cry breathlessly even though Jimin doesn’t seem like stopping anytime soon.}}

In real-time, you pick up the pace of your fingers, driving them deeper to press against your g-spot, as you keep panting upon your sheets.

{{“Fuck. You. Feel. So. Good.” he punctuates each word with a thrust, as they come out in loud, rough growls, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as precipitation gathers at his temples, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

You cry out in ecstasy with every rough snap of his hips, shifting your hips to feel more of him, desperate for as much as he can give.

Then Jimin stands upright, grabbing your legs to push them into his chest and away from your own, wrapping around them and using them as leverage. His movements don't stop and he grunts lowly with each thrust, making you see stars each time he hits your g-spot.

He pants above you, driving his hips deeper into you, his muscles taut as he flexes his thighs and his thrusts become even rougher.

“Shit, Jimin…” you plead yet you don’t know what for as his motions make your body move up and down against the mattress.

“What is it, baby? Tell me,” he hisses, eyes furrowed as he stares at your lips. “I’ll give it to you…” he grunts, his thrusts now matching his pants, hands getting tighter at the supple flesh of your hips.

“Jimin, please…” you whine, driving your hand to tap on your clit to clue him in.

He curses again, bating your hand away for one of his own to land against your nub and begin rubbing circles into it.}}

You remove your other hand from your chest to press at your clit as you drive two fingers harshly into your soaked pussy with the other. You feel your high approaching and you don’t dare stop.

{{You scream in pleasure at the added friction, legs moving as Jimin releases them to wrap around his waist. You drive your heels against his ass to press his cock further into you.

“How are you so fucking wet for me, huh? Did my thighs turn you on this much, baby?” he asks harshly as his fingers pick up their pace, sending you into a wholly new sensation.

You moan out loud at his words, nodding your head quickly as if you’ve gone mad. “Yes, fuck, Jimin. I love your thighs, love how thick they are. Wanna rub my cunt all over them, want my clit to go numb with how hard I rub it on them. Want my folds to leak on top of them and stain your jeans. Fuck!” you yelp when your words have Jimin giving a particularly rough thrust.

“Fuck, yeah baby that’s right. Those thighs are gonna make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he hisses from above you, spreading your legs, the stretch burning delightful as another groan falls from your hips.

Finally, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, high-pitched moans echoing inside the room and your cunt begins clenching uncontrollably.

Jimin realises this as his hips move even harder against yours and his fingers are relentless on your clit. “Are you gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum like the dirty little slut you are?”

His words send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name.}}

You repeat the words over and over in your head until you’re a sobbing mess and come harder than you ever did before pressing your palm on your mouth to prevent any noise from getting out.

You lay on your bed spent and breathless, the memory ebbing away once you’re satisfied and your limbs are relaxed in a blissful numbness.

But, that soon also ebbs away, giving its spot to shame.

You just rubbed one off to Jimin.

And yeah okay you did sleep with him once, but you hadn’t used the memories to pleasure yourself before.

Oh god, this is getting out of hand.

You gotta end this crush of yours before it devours you.

[thevolturiarejustbetter]

Quotidian- chapter 2

Luna loved her sister so much

But seeing the 4 golden-eyed vampires in the living room, her current thoughts were the opposite of what a loving sister should have.

The audacity this bitch has

yup that was it.

that was the only thing that came to her mind.

Her sister was immortal with a loving new family.

A mate that loved her back

A kid that she could love and bother for the rest of her immortal eternal life.

So why ON EARTH did her sister have to bother her.

She would be long gone in a few months.

She was dying

she was one useless human out of the billions, just dying

She had cut off her parents a long time ago

earlier than Bella had

and she technically had also cut off her sister

who was now again in her living room

furious at her

"How dare you. I'm your sister. I love you so much and when I come home from Italy I'm met with a furious Charlie and my sister nowhere in sight? Do you know how worried I was? I don't care if you're a freaking shield who can shield herself from appearing in thoughts I was so WORRIED in case of the Volturi ever finding you. And you kept contact with Rosalie and not me? Do you know how fuckin reckless and dangerous that is? What if someone found your letters? NOT TO MENTION I KNOW ROSALIE TOLD YOU ABOUT THE ALEC VOLTURI, THE MOTHERFUCKIN WITCH TWIN BEING YOUR SOULMATE AND THE VOLTURI HAS A SHIT TON OF ENEMIES SO IF YOU USED YOUR FUCKIN BRAIN ONCE IN A WHILE YOU WOULD FIGURE OUT THAT NOT ONLY IS THE VOLTURI YOUR CONCERN BUT THE PEOPLE WHO HATE THE VOLTURI COULD'VE TORTURED U OR EVEN KILLED-

Bella's screams echoed through the living room

She was angry in a way a concerned mother was over her child.

She didn't get to finish before Luna interrupted her.

"I DON'T CARE. I'm DYING BELLA I'M DYING. IT'S BEEN YEARS SINCE I WAS DIAGNOSED AND I DECLINED YOUR OFFER TO TURN ME I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ANYMORE LEAVE ME ALONE. "

Luna stopped shouting when she saw her sister's face.

She looked absolutely heartbroken.

Luna continued her rant in a softer voice.

"Bella we all know that I won't even make it to 18. I don't know shit about the Volturi but I know one thing. Even if this Alec or witch twin is my soulmate, that changes nothing. He has his other twin. According to Carlisle they're inseparable and always will be. I'll always be #2 and he probably won't even glance at me if we even ever meet. I'm human. Bella, I'm human. He probably won't even bother with me and I just can't live an eternity stuck in a relationship with a dude who probably won't love me-"

"ok, you know what you need to shut up. The Volturi may have tried to kill my daughter but guess what? It's their job. They haven't met or heard of a half-human/vampire child so it was their duty to confront us. I can ignore the fact that they're basically murders if it's all for you. Luna, please. Carlisle told me about how rare soulmates are. Me and Edward were just blood singers and now we're mates. On the other hand, you and Alec haven't even met, yet you guys hold a possible stronger bond than us and we've spent two years/have a child together." Bella spoke while going to put her arm around Edward's waist.

"Bella just go. Please leave me alone." pleaded Luna

Luna was tired.

She had an expiration date above her head and she was emotional/mentally/ and physically drained.

"Just- Just, Luna please just hear me out."

Luna hopelessly let herself fall back on her couch and just helplessly looked up at her desperate sister's face.

Bella proceeded to walk towards her as she sat down next to her on the couch

" I want you to go to Italy with me. Hear me out please, I want you to come with me to Italy and just at least, meet him. Look him in the eye and tell him that you're going to be gone by next year. I want you to at least tell him before you make your decision. If you can do that, I'll accept it too and leave you alone." Bella finished, closely watching her younger sister's facial expression.

"Fine"

In a blur, Alice came forward with packed bags and suitcases.

She had basically packed everything Luna owned in less than 10 seconds after the word was spoken.

Luna was already regretting her decision.

They got off the plane at midnight.

The Volturi were notified of their visit, as they had Carliels with them, but they didn't about Luna.

All they had told the Volturi was that Bella's younger human sister who was dying would also be coming along.

They hadn't clarified the bond she would share with one of their most prized guards.

And because the human was dying, the Volturi looked over the fact that the Cullens had broken another law.

The human would be gone soon anyway so why bother.

Esme held Luna tight.

She was like the daughter she would have had

"Everything will go smoothly. We're staying for one night and then we're going to go back to Forks and you can choose to spend the rest of your days as you please," Carlisle reassured Luna in a gentle comforting voice.

She got into a car that Alice was driving, her sister choosing to sit next to her, reaching out for her hand to grasp tightly onto.

Bella gave Luna a reassuring and comforting look, but the look of sadness and hope was also visible in Bella's eyes.

Bella didn't care if her sister would end up being a normal vampire.

She just wanted her sister to exist with her for the rest of eternity.

When they had stopped by forks, she wished that when Luna was introduced to Renesmee, she would fall in love with her niece.

But who was she kidding.

Bella knew how much Luna had a distaste for children.

Not to mention Renesmee was the exact spitting image of Luna when she was around 10 years old, and Luna didn't like to remembring things from the past.

So during the short three hours, they stayed at the Cullen's residence, she avoided Renesmee like a plague while the child held a curiosity towards her only biological aunt.

Rosalie, Alice, and Edward were rolling over when they had seen childhood pictures of Luna.

But unlike Renesmee's bright hopeful happy eyes, Luna Swan's 10-year-old eyes showed different emotions.

Worry

Sadness

Frustration

In almost every picture, Bella had now realized that Luna Swan was never really happy.

Her sister had the most normal childhood, other than divorced parents and growing up without a proper father figure, Luna Swan had grown up normally.

Bella had once spent a whole week frustrated flipping through photo album after photo album trying to find a childhood picture of her younger sister not looking depressed or frustrated but she couldn't find anything.

She beat herself over and over again frustrated at how she never caught on to what her sister had felt over these past years.

She soon was brought out of her thinking with her sister shaking her.

"Bella we're here."

The golden-eyed pixie turned around giving her a small nod.

Felix and Demetri couldn't wait until their shift was over.

The Cullens would be coming over and they really didn't care until Aro had spoken about Bella Cullen's younger human sister who was dying.

They still didn't care but couldn't help their minds as they curiously pondered on this younger dying human.

[dehydratedpercy]

Prompt: " Please.....dont make me hurt you"

For dark Frank maybe👀 but you Can also choose someone else

A Way To Hurt (2.5k)

Read on Ao3 | Based on this post

Summary: Hazel still has Frank's firewood, though they're enemies now. Even though she knows she could kill him, she can't bring herself to betray his trust-- that is, until he shows up one night intent on getting his lifeline back, no matter the cost.

TW: Home invasion, dark themes

Hazel had just finished getting ready for bed when she heard the noise. It came from the other room, so she picked up her spatha, hoping beyond hope that it was just the old house settling.

Sometimes, it was just the old house settling. She kept her spatha by her side at all times though, because she knew one day, it wouldn’t just be the house. And she refused to be unarmed when that day finally came.

Now, she had her sword, which gave her comfort even if she wasn’t wearing armor. Her sweats were oversized, her mouth still tasting like toothpaste. Her eyes had been drooping, almost falling asleep standing up.

She wasn’t falling asleep now.

She stepped into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. For a moment, there was nothing. Then Frank materialized, landing with barely a step. It was almost as if he'd taken off Annabeth's invisibility cap, but Hazel knew the truth; that he'd simply been in the form of a bug, and had shifted back to his human form. It was a trick he’d started learning when he was still at camp, but clearly he’d perfected it since then.

Hazel let her spatha hang by her side, not raising it quite yet. Frank wouldn’t have shown himself if he was just going to attack her, which meant he must’ve wanted to talk.

This’ll be good, she thought, crossing her arms.

“Hazel,” Frank said, sounding on edge. He looked worse than the last time she saw him, like he hadn’t been sleeping. Despite that, his posture was straight, like he hadn’t been able to forget his Roman training, his hands in his pockets casually, like he hadn’t just broken in. “You look-- good. You look good.”

It came out as a stumbled complement, but it hit Hazel like an insult. They’d broken up directly before he’d left camp, but before that they’d been dating for nearly three years. He’d never gotten less awkward. At one point, it had been endearing-- but too much had changed for it to feel like anything but an insult now. Especially since she knew why he was here.

“That attack on Camp Half-Blood. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Frank shrugged non-committally. “I wasn’t there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You just helped organize it.”

“Sounds like something I’d do, doesn’t it?” He said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. “Hazel--”

“And the attack on the questers? The bear--”

He huffed. “Might have just been a freak accident. Wild animals attack sometimes, Hazel.”

“Stop saying my name,” she snapped. “It’s not yours to say anymore. And that warship that was destroyed? The defenses that were destroyed? The supplies that were booby-trapped?”

Frank took a step forward, eyes darkening. He didn’t like being pushed, but Hazel didn’t care. He deserved to feel the impact of the crimes he committed-- crimes against demigods, crimes against his family. Hazel wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

They’d initially broken up when Frank started getting too radical, claiming that they were doing something wrong by taking in and training new demigods. He said they’d be better off left alone, where they wouldn’t be able to get too powerful, and thus wouldn’t attract as many monsters. Some would die, sure-- but he thought back to his mortal days with a fondness he didn’t hold for either camp. He thought it would’ve been better not to know.

He was wrong. But that didn’t stop him. He left camp, found beings willing to support his cause, and started a gradual campaign to dissolve both camps-- make them so unsafe demigods started fleeing, trying their luck in the mortal world.

Hazel and her friends had volunteered to be the ones to take him in-- or, if that didn’t work, bring him down. This house had been their mission headquarters. It was supposed to be secure. Then again, nothing seemed to be secure these days: there was nowhere Frank had been unable to go. He could turn into a bug and fly under doors, turn into a bear and attack innocents, turn into an elephant and take down buildings. His shifting was instantaneous, making him impossible to fight: he changed form before you could land a swing.

“You act like I’m a bad guy,” Frank said, voice low and dangerous. “Like I’m not doing all of this to help people. The generation after us will thank me when they are able to live among mortals again--”

“The ones who don’t die, maybe!” Hazel said, voice raising. “And fuck the next generation, what about the ones who are alive now? The demigods who have already started exploring their powers, who can’t stay in the mortal world without detection. What about them?”

“They’re a lost cause,” Frank said, sounding deeply saddened by this. “And I am too. I know my scent is as powerful as yours or Jason’s; this fucking curse has seen to that.”

“A blessing,” Hazel corrected, feeling the familiarity of their old argument like a frequently dislocated joint. “Shapeshifting is a blessing, a gift more demigods would die for--”

“I’m barely even human anymore!” Frank yelled. Hazel stepped back in horror as he shifted rapidly, going from human to bear to hawk to wolf to human again. It happened so quickly it just looked like a flicker, and then he was human again, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “Hazel, I wouldn’t wish this curse on anyone. And even if I was just a normal demigod, going to camp was the biggest mistake of my life. If I had never done that, my scent would have never gotten this strong. My family mansion would still be around, my grandmother would still be--” he swallowed with difficulty. “My grandmother would still be alive. Camp Jupiter took everything from me. And I can’t get it back, but maybe-- I could make it better for future demigods. That’s all I can hope for.”

“At the expense of demigods now,” Hazel whispered. “Frank, without the camps… so many people will die. Demigods need a safe place to train.”

Frank’s expression closed off, and Hazel knew he was done arguing with her. Early on, he’d hoped to get her to see his side, but he’d quickly seen that that would never happen.

“Fine,” he said, voice like a knife. “Then just give me what I came here for, and I’ll be on my way.”

Hazel felt her face heat up. Her hand twitched, wanting to move to touch the side of her thigh where his piece of firewood sat. All this time, and he’d never gotten it back. At first, Hazel thought it was a hopeful sign, since it meant he must still trust it in her care, but as his actions grew more and more violent, she knew it was only a matter of time.

She had used to keep it in a jacket pocket, but she wasn’t so naive anymore. Currently, the wood was duct-taped to the side of her thigh, so it never left her side. No one knew; her friends didn’t even know she had it. She’d considered telling them, but she just couldn’t betray Frank’s trust like that. She’d considered burning it-- especially after hearing about the deaths-- but in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. How could she betray someone who had trusted her with everything? How could she hurt anyone like that?

Hazel had known, in her heart, that one day he’d show up, looking for the piece of timber. She had hoped it wouldn’t happen, but she’d known. She wasn’t as naive as people liked to think.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she said, raising her spatha. “For all you know, I don’t even have it anymore. I may have put it in a safe across the country, and you’ll never find it.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Come on Hazel. Don’t make me ask again.”

“I told you not to say my name.”

“Hazel,” Frank snapped. “You’re acting like a child. I’m trying to make the world a better place, and it’s bad enough you of all people are trying to stop me. But that timber doesn’t belong to you. Give it here.”

“Do you remember who my father is?” Hazel challenged, baring her teeth. “I could kill you with the snap of my fingers. I’d be more afraid, if I were you.”

"You have my firewood, you could've killed me long ago," Frank argued. "You haven't. You're not going to try now."

Hazel felt her eyes blaze with determination. "You don't know that."

He started moving forward, and Hazel was reminded briefly how much bigger than her he was. "I do. Because I know you, and I know you'd never do anything to hurt a friend."

"Unlike some people," Hazel snarled.

Frank ignored the jab, still moving forward. “Hazel, I’m begging you, just hand it over. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

He got too close, and Hazel slashed with her sword. In an instant, he was gone, and then he was behind her, grabbing her around the waist. She screamed as he grabbed her hoodie pocket, feeling for the timber. She tried to elbow him in the face but he was gone again, and then she tripped over something and was on the ground. She swiped at him again but he was relentless, disappearing and reappearing again, attacking her like a wolf tearing at scaps. She couldn’t strike her, no matter how hard she tried.

Suddenly, she felt his hand on her thigh, and in a panic she kicked him away. He responded slower this time, barely turning into a bird in time to stop himself from slamming full force into the opposite wall. He dropped back to human form, panting, but his gaze was vicious. He’d found what he was looking for.

“You used to be a gentleman,” Hazel said bitterly as she stumbled to her feet, backing up. He had never so blatantly ignored her consent like that before, touching her like she was a means to an end instead of a person.

“I’m not going to be a gentleman when you have my lifeline tucked against your skin,” Frank said cruelly.

Hazel saw his muscles tense and just had enough time to say “No--” when he lunged, turning into a hawk. She slashed with her sword, but then he was a coyote, hitting her with so much force she fell again. There was a ripping noise, but she didn’t have time to react because then he was on top of her in human form again. They wrestled for a moment, but Hazel had never excelled in hand-to-hand combat, and he was twice her size with the upper hand. He threw her spatha to the side, then pinned her beneath him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, then there was a hand over her mouth. She lurched, screaming into it as he ripped the duct-taped timber off her leg, taking some of her hair with it.

As a wolf, he must’ve bitten off a hunk of her sweatpants, and now he had the timber back in his hand.

He looked at it in awe, as if he wasn’t didn’t even see her as a threat anymore.

She gritted her teeth and summoned her sword. It flew so fast it knocked Frank in the back of the head, and then she was able to throw him off her body, slashing at the same time. He turned into a hawk but wasn’t quick enough, and she sliced off part of his wing. He fell, rolling away in human form, and when he came to a stop Hazel saw the huge gash down his arm. He reached up to touch it, and it was then that Hazel realized he didn’t have the wood.

She spotted it, laying in the center of the floor, at the same time as he did. They both lunged, Frank’s image flickering through half a dozen transformations before he grabbed onto the timber with his thick human hand. Hazel almost took off his fingers as she swung. Instead of knocking the wood out of his hand, however, she cut it clear in half.

That was good enough for her. She dove, grabbing the wood and rolling.

She landed in a kneeling position, half of the piece of timber in her hands. Frank held the other, teeth gritted. He looked like he planned to launch another attack, but before he could Hazel did what she should’ve done a long time ago: warping the imperial gold of her sword, turning it to its liquid state in mid-air, and using it to coat her piece of wood. She raised it, triumphant, the metal-covered wood levitating an inch above her hand. It glowed inhumanly-- after all, she had her own curses to deal with. Frank wouldn’t dare touch it now.

The house shook. It took Hazel a moment to realize that was her magic, causing the very foundations of the house to tremor. There were shouts from the lower floor, the sound of pounding footsteps.

“Try me again,” she threatened, still levitating her trophy grotesquely. “I will end you.”

Frank looked pissed, but he also must’ve seen how serious she was. He swallowed, stuffing his piece of firewood back in his pocket. “Until we meet again-- Levesque.”

Then he turned into a bat, still able to fly despite his injured wing. The door opened and he swooped out, escaping into the rest of the house and eventually, into the night.

Jason and Percy lurched in, both looking panicked. They didn’t seem to have noticed the bat. When Jason saw Hazel, his eyes widened, and he backed up into Percy, nearly knocking him over. “Hazel-- your eyes--”

Hazel realized her eyes must’ve started glowing gold, like they sometimes did when she was filled with rage. With effort, she willed them to stop, calling on the house to still.

“What happened?” Percy asked as Hazel walked to the window. She watched as a bat darted out the front door, which was still open-- Jason and Percy must’ve just gotten back. She continued watching the bat until it was too far away to see, then sighed. She willed the metal to uncover the piece of tinder, revealing it as a piece of wood again, and holding it up for them to see.

She’d never told anyone Frank’s secret, thinking her loyalty to her promise came before anything else. She didn’t think that anymore, though, and she was done doing Frank favors.

(The wood still had Frank’s blood on it, and it made Hazel’s stomach twist uncomfortably.)

“I have something to tell you guys,” Hazel said, doing an impressive job of keeping her voice from shaking. “A secret I’ve been holding for Frank for-- too long. It may not be enough to destroy him, but at the very least, I know a way where we can hurt him very, very badly.”

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