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tarjapearce · 1 year

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As My Own

Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .

Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.

WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.

Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?

Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.

Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.

Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.

If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.

------

Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.

When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?

It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.

His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.

He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.

"Dinner time with Roomie~"

The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.

(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.

Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.

Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.

-----

The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.

The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.

The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.

"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."

"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"

Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.

"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.

"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"

"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."

You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"

Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.

"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"

Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.

"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.

"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"

"You're graduated?"

"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.

"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.

"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."

Jeesh

Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.

"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"

She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.

Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.

But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.

Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.

"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."

"But I can't... afford it-"

"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.

You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you

She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.

You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.

"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.

"I..."

"Sorry if I'm overstepping"

"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."

"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed

"I can't have them"

Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.

"Infertility?"

"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."

You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.

"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."

Could have been

" To me, you... you are."

Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest

"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.

"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."

Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you

"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"

"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"

But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.

Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare

"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly

"No, Gabi, cariño-"

"You can meet him this weekend!"

"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"

"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."

You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.

"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."

"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"

"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.

-----

Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.

In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.

Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"

------

3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.

Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.

Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.

"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.

"Sorry for... the late hour."

"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.

"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.

"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.

"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.

"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."

His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.

"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"

"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"

Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.

"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.

"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.

"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.

"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Miguel entered in spectator mode.

"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"

"Can I have it tomorrow?"

"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.

Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.

"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."

"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.

"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"

"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.

Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.

" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."

"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."

"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.

"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."

"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine

"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."

"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."

"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."

Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.

"I hope she hasn't-"

"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."

"It's the people around her that I don't trust"

"Ouch..."

"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together

"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"

You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.

"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.

"What about, today at 7 pm?"

"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.

"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)

You just laughed and put the food in the fridge

"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"

"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."

"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.

"Sleep well, Papa."

He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.

------—----

And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.

Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.

Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom

"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.

--------

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."

"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"

Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.

"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."

"That doesn't mean I can't try-"

"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked

"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.

"I think it's time to try something new."

"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face

"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."

"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."

"Ouch."

--------

Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.

To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.

It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.

Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.

"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.

Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.

And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.

"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.

"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"Missed you, preciosa".

What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.

He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.

Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.

He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #dad miguel o'hara #gabi o'hara #Fluff #miguel fluff #miguel o'hara fluff #fem reader #atsv fluff #astv fanfic

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iicheeze · 2 years

Text

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES MASTERLIST

SUMMARY || you've always had feelings for your gray haired senior. To the point that you'd confess to the man in front of the whole Akademiya. Pitying you, he gives you 3 months, 3 days and 33 minutes to make him fall for you. Let the roller coaster of chaos begin!

PAIRINGS || Alhaitham x Gender Neutral Reader, slight Kaveh x reader

TAGLIST || @star-star-fall-inlove @nachotrash @baelloraa @itonashi @tanspostsblog @kalpie @makimakimi @nishayuro @hugs4dottore @sassy-cat-in-town @aloveablechaos @ceylestia @severedvigility @i9tto @6-022-10-23 @duhsies @suwnshine @xiaos-wife1 @kysrion @kunikuzushisbeloved (BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU, TAGLIST OPEN!!)

TW || gendered terms like girl or buddy, READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL!!!!!! other than that idk unfunny-ness ig idk 😭 just read to find out

CHAPTER II — [Name], The Reckoning

“ HAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHA!! ”

The haunting laughter echoed throughout the hallway of Teyvat Akademiya Dorms. Obviously, coming from none other than you, yourself.

“ SHUT THE HELL UP, DAMMIT!! I'M TRYING TO FINISH MY FUCKING ASSIGNMENT, YOU DAMN LUMMOX. ” Tighnari screamed, his head peeking out of his dorm room. “ Sorry, man. ” And with that, the door slammed shut.

“ Give me my five dollars, Mona. ” You demanded, with Mona slowly reaching out to her almost empty wallet.

Long ago, you and Mona made a bet. If Alhaitham accepts your confession, Mona will give you ten dollars. But if he rejects you, you give her ten dollars.

But since this one is a special case, Mona will only give you five dollars.

“ Congratulations for getting accepted! Now.. What next? ” Bennett gave you a pat on the shoulder, while also giving you a question. Silence filled the air with awkward tension.

“ To be honest, I didn't plan this far. ” “ GIRL, HOW DID YOU EVEN GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL???!?! ” “ I don't know too. ” “ Lord, save us. ”

“ OKAY, OKAY!!! I'll search up on how to woo a stubborn guy. After that, I'll list it off. Then, I'll physically do it to him and bada bing bada boom, we're a couple. ” You winked, as your friends dead pan.

“ I'll wish you the best, [Name]. You'll need it. ” Kokomi smiled innocently at you, as the rest nods along with her statement. “ THANKS??? BUT WHY ARE YOU SAYING IT WITH THAT TONE?? ”

It was the weekend, so you decided to use your time lazing around searching up on how to woo a man with a personality like Alhaitham's. Sadly, they all sound very hard.

Like... What do you mean ‘ Make sure they have all the facts. ’ ?????

The only stuff you wrote down are;

Let him come to you. Obviously not gonna work 💔

Open up to him.

Be his friend.

Stay flirty.

Focus on your common interests. What interests 😭

Make him laugh.

Be silly in front of him.

Go on adventures together. Wtf we aint dora and boots hell no

IF ALL FAILS, THEN GIVE UP GIRL!!! HE AIN'T WORTH YOUR TIME!!!

You wrote the sentence in bold with massive letters at the end of the list. Who knows, maybe this chance is just pure luck or he just wants to toy around with you.

BUT!

You still have a chance, albeit small, it's still a chance!

And you're obviously taking it.

I mean, what the hell. He has a hot body.

“ I wonder if he's a virgin. ”

Kaveh was just taking his break at the local Sunbucks near Teyvat Akademiya, trying to get away from the annoying roommate of his.

But his moment of peace was disrupted by a single ding from his phone.

Message Notification from [Name]

What the hell are they up to now

He clicked the notification bar, and it quickly showed up to his chat history with the person.

[Name]

PLSE HELP ME IM STUCK 😭

You

wtf wdym stuck

[Name] is typing. . .

[Name]

so i confessed to ur roommate ye

and he actually gave me a chance

except theres a time limit for it and if i dont make him fall for me within 3 months 3 days and 33 minutes i cant talk to him or even acknowledge he existed in this timeline 😭

Kaveh couldn't help but think.

How the hell did you even got him to give you a chance what kind of fuckery did you use [Name]

You

and wat do you want me to do abt it im not him tf 🤨

[Name] is typing. . .

[Name]

d-d-d-d

do u know anything abt him

if u do

can u

pls tell me 🥺

You

WTF stop talking like that you sound like an e-kitten 🤢🤮

[Name]

STOP HWAT NOOO 😭

You

idk abt that gray haired bitch hes friendless and a virgin wtf u want me to do

[Name]

AYO WHAT HE A VIRGIN??????

boutta peg him fr fr 😈

You

💀

plus all i know is that he aint prioritize no one but himself

he doesn't deserve u 😒

[Name]

but I deserve him 😍

does he like uhhh

my jokes

You

dont u dare

we all know ur humor is as bad as cyno's

[Name]

but

i have rizz 🔥

You

the only thing ur gonna get is a rizzstraining order from him wtf

no one likes ur jokes [name]

just accept the truth

[Name]

😭

this is why u get no bitches

“ Jesus Christ, [Name]. . . ” The blonde man mumbled to himself, face palming. He was about to leave the cafe, before he saw another text.

[Name]

i seriously want him to like me tho

It was just a simple text, and he knows of your crush for his roommate for quite a while.

So why did it strung his heartstrings?

AUTHOR'S NOTE || SORRY ITS SHORT AGAIN THE NEXT ONE WILL PROBABLY BE LONGER 😭😭 if there's any mistakes be it readers gender or more please tell me 🙏🙇

also taglist is still open feel free to ask to be in it 😍

#3 months 3 days and 33 minutes series #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x male reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin alhaitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin kaveh x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin kaveh

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kasaneteto · 5 months

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ok i need some opinions

so i had the talk with my roommate about not wanting to sign another lease with him. that’s all fine and good he understands why we can’t be roommates anymore but the problem is he doesn’t want to let me be the one to stay at this apartment because he claims he can afford to live here by himself. i don’t really believe him but its neither here nor there because i know i can only afford to live here if i rent with two other people.

my reasons for wanting to keep living here are: i can walk to work, its going to be really hard to find another place that allows TWO cats, my cats are CRAZY and this apartment is perfect for them (lots of windows for passive engagement + a loft area for them to get up in), i have a LOT of plants because the place gets a lot of natural light, to find another place that would support all of these plants will be difficult. & in addition to all of that - my name is on all of the utilities + the WiFi. because he is too irresponsible to take initiative with anything. in a worst case scenario I would be able to move back in with my parents, but that would mean moving to the country where i would be completely isolated and would have to quit my job.

his reasons for wanting to keep living here are: he was the one who found the apartment & he can afford to live here on his own, and he doesn’t want to move. if he has other reasons beyond those he hasn’t told me what they are.

ive known he was a selfish person for years. i mean ive completely given up on ever asking him for a favor because he acts so burdened by it, if he even is willing to do it at all. its my belief that his selfishness is a trauma response due to his upbringing, but yknow, i can only tell the guy he needs therapy so many times before i have to give up to save my own energy. but i can’t help but feel like i deserve this apartment way more than he does. im the one who’s been taking care of it and keeping it nice for us. im the only one of us who’s in any way responsible. so for him to be so hostile about me wanting to stay (he got really defensive about it) hurts me a lot. i want to believe that he’s a good friend but I don’t feel like a good friend would see me move out of an apartment that’s perfect for me just because the alternative would make his life harder. he hasn’t been a good friend for a while so why am i still pretending he is?

so should i tell him all of these feelings? im worried that its going to come across as emotional manipulation. because like… i can’t lie, my main reason for wanting to tell him all of this is so i can stay here and he’ll move out. its hard to not feel like a hypocrite calling him selfish when thats my deepest motivation. but its not my only motivation, i truly do believe that erik is unaware of this behavior of his and that he WANTS to be a good friend, and i wonder if me being honest with him is the wake-up call he needs in that regard? idk. i just want to be a good friend while also standing up for myself. its hard to navigate stuff like this.

so uh. should i tell him i think he’s being really selfish about this? and that ive noticed a pattern of selfish behavior in him? be honest if im being a dickhead about this too and should just give up the place to him like if thats he truth i wanna hear it. it would just kill me to see his irresponsible ass bite off more than he can chew and lose this place, esp since the rate we’re renting at is the 2021 housing rate like its gonna be SO much more expensive to find a place this nice in the current housing market 😭

#txt #pls help #give me ur honest thots #im gonna talk to my therapist about this too but i wan unprofessional opinions as well

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longlivefanfic-net · 2 years

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106 & 146 w nancy wheeler PLEASE dawg i need it so bad fr 🙁 also i know how ppl hc nancy as a dom but in my head that girl is my prissy princess and i need so bad to give her the sex that no man could 🤷🏽also it would be cool if you could fit in something to do w nancy x barb bc that’s a hc that I’ve had for a while :) & bi nancy finally accepting herself 🤭 okay yes im probably gg be spamming reqs like this every so often- much love !! -maxaroni & cheese (wow im so funny hahaha 😐)

Maxaroni! I feel like it's taken me FOREVER to get this finished for you (sorry!!!) but it is DONE. I hope you like it!

Prompts: “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.” and “Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh…no, I was just…” “Want some help?”

Content: sapphic reader; afab!reader; afab!reader x Nancy Wheeler; college roommates; smut, just like a lot of queer smut; some pining on the readers side because why not; Nancy Wheeler has a praise kink; mommy kink; Jonathan x Nancy

Word count: 7.1k (this was supposed to be short WHOOPS)

Summary: You meet Nancy the day you move into your shared college living space and spend the next few months desperately wishing to be between her legs. But she's got a boyfriend! And a plan for her life! Right?!

Nancy Fuckin' Wheeler

It wasn’t your fault you had fallen for your roommate. She had shown up on move-in day, had simply appeared, like the pixie she resembled, in the too-small room you were expected to share for the next nine months. Her brown hair had been curly, shorter back then, with bangs that brushed the tops of the lashes that framed her large, round eyes. She had smiled at you, striding across the tiny room with her hand already extended, and you had noticed the way her nose wrinkled, right at the tip, when she grinned and you were gone. “I’m Nancy,” she had said, picking up your hand to shake, firmly, like she shook a lot of men’s hands and was tired of being told she had a weak grip. “Nancy Wheeler.”

You had played it cool for the first few weeks. This was your college roommate–if you didn’t fuck this up, she might end up being your best friend for life. It’s not like you could say, “Hi, Nancy, nice to meet you, I like girls and think you’re hot!” No. No way. And, if you were honest, you couldn’t risk isolating the only person you knew at Emerson. It was lonely in those big buildings, the bustling sounds of city life right outside every window yet feeling so far away. You wanted Nancy to be your friend, and you had thought that meant you had to pretend to be…like her.

After a few weeks, though, you couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. Nancy had taken to having full conversations with you while she changed in the mornings, tossing her towel on her bed when she got back from the shared bathroom. She’d hold intense eye contact with you, chattering away the entire time about her classes, and her plans for the day, and whether you wanted to go grocery shopping with her that day, and her boyfriend, always her damn boyfriend. She’d stand on the other side of your narrow bedroom, completely naked, practically daring your eyes to slip from her face, and talk at a hundred miles a minute about Jonathan, this perfect Jonathan, who was always coming to visit that weekend but never actually showed up.

When you cracked, she didn’t even react. It was during a rare moment of silence, her back still wrapped in her towel and turned to you as she pulled a top out of her neatly-organized closet. Your eyes were fixed on the back of Nancy’s neck; her brown hair was pinned up, and the pale skin of her neck still had beads of water from the shower darkening the fine curls that lay flat against her skin. You watched a drop of water slide down her skin, tangle in that one, C-shaped piece of hair that had fallen out of the clip, and felt your eyes glaze over; you wished, desperately, to be water, to be able to slide over her porcelain body, touching without touching, and find rest in her hair. “You know I like girls, right?” You had blurted out, the words throwing themselves desperately off your tongue to land with a disgusting smack in the middle of the room, as bare and naked as Nancy tended to be.

She turned her head over her shoulder, barely glancing away from the shirt in her hands. “Oh! No, I didn’t know that.” You stood, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Nancy to call you names or tell you she was uncomfortable or tell you to request a room change but instead–instead, all you got was a slight blush over her cheeks when she turned back to you. “Did you–did you want me to change in the bathroom?” You shook your head, suddenly numb to the sounds of the cars in the street, the people yelling at each other on the sidewalks, the sounds of your other roommates making breakfast in the kitchen. It all disappeared when Nancy smiled at you–almost shyly, her lips only slightly tilting up at the corners before her eyes ducked down–and removed her towel.

Afterwards, Nancy had taken it upon herself to make sure you knew you were welcome to bring over whoever you wanted. She eyed girls at the grocery store, the coffee shop, the diner the two of you frequented for late night pancakes, and nudged you, using those wide eyes to motion towards the girls she had picked out for you. She had good taste, you had to give her that–but the girls Nancy picked were always too tall, their hair too light, their bodies too full for who you really wanted.

One night, late–or early, really–the two of you were nestled into the couch, swathed by blankets, Nancy’s pajama clad legs in your bare lap as you passed a carton of ice cream back and forth. The other roommates had gone out earlier, disappearing in a haze of hairspray and blue eyeshadow with promises to be back for lunch tomorrow. Nancy had declined their invitations, staying home and waiting for Jonathan to call. When he didn’t, you slipped downstairs, running across the street to the bodega for a can of Coke and Nancy’s favorite icecream.

The night slipped away with the two of you there, sitting by the phone–”just in case,” Nancy said, biting her too-full bottom lip as she avoided your eyes. The conversation started innocently enough: You wanted to comfort her, and had started sharing stories of your own pathetic dating life. She laughed so hard she snorted, actually snorted, her nose wrinkling and her eyes creasing at the corners as she closed them, when you told her about the boyfriend you barely let touch you in high school, the “best friend” you had “practiced” with instead.

“I did that too!” She exclaimed, her voice high and breathless between the sweet peals of her laughter. Her feet pressed into the bare skin of your legs, toes digging against soft skin as you tried to ignore the goosebumps that raced down your arms. She was so warm, so full of light as she gazed at you, and the weight of her body, sprawled so casually over yours, felt so right, felt like home. “I did that too,” she said. “My friend, Barb–she was my first kiss. We said we were ‘practicing’ for when boys decided to date us.”

You reeled in your shock, loosening the fingers that had immediately tightened around her ankles at the words. Nancy Wheeler–Nancy “Perfect” Wheeler, Nancy “4.0” Wheeler, Nancy fuckin Wheeler–kissed girls? Nancy eyed you from the other end of the couch, the television light flickering over her brows, still high with the glimmer of her laugh. Her cheeks were dark, a blush building there as she held your eyes with her own. “What?” She asked, her voice suddenly low. “You didn’t know I kissed girls?” She cocked her head, slightly, the movement exposing the side of her throat. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, aggressive thumps, as her eyelids lowered slightly. Her lips parted, just barely, and you watched the pink tip of her tongue wet the very edges of the lush bow.

“Nancy,” you replied, your shaking voice betraying you, your body betraying you as it warmed under her gaze. “That’s…kinda gay.” Nancy rolled her doe eyes, smirking slightly. “Are you–Nancy, do you like girls?” She shrugged her pajama-clad shoulders, angling her head towards the TV. “Yeah,” she said, flicking a heavy-lidded glance back at you. “And guys. It’s not a big deal.” She said it so nonchalant, said it like she hadn’t just rocked your world and flipped it on its axis, like she hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. Nancy liked girls. Nancy could like you. Hell, it almost seemed like she was flirting with you. Except–

Except for Jonathan. Fucking Jonathan, who happened to call at that exact moment, like your thought of his name summoned him from California, the earsplitting ring of the telephone making both you and Nancy jump. She grabbed, desperately, at the receiver, picking up the heavy plastic and cradling it between her strong chin and shoulder. “Hello?” She whispered, breathy with her excitement. “Yeah. No, it’s fine, it’s– I can talk.” She looked over her shoulder at you and, if you didn’t know better, you’d have thought she looked guilty.

You smiled, bitterly aware that it didn’t meet your eyes, and slid her feet off your lap. Standing up, you stretched–the two of you had been on that couch, skin touching skin, for hours now, and your joints felt stiff. Nancy watched, either unaware or uncaring that you could see her eyes fixate on the way your oversized t-shirt lifted with your arms, the hem dancing over the edges of your underwear. Heat pulsed through your core, a sudden, desperate throbbing, as her eyes met yours from where she sat on the couch. Your breath caught, slightly, in your chest, and you turned, heading to the bathroom for a cold shower–and, if that didn’t work, a few minutes alone with your hand and the image of Nancy, eyes wide and hungry, jaw loose like it was waiting for you to guide it.

After your shower–and, yes, a few minutes of picturing Nancy’s face, Nancy’s body, Nancy’s neck and skin and hair and lips–you headed back to your shared bedroom. Nancy was no longer in the living room, not lazed over the arm of the couch while she giggled with Jonathan on the phone. You opened the door to your bedroom quietly, hoping she’d already be asleep. She was in her bed, a small bundle of limbs and dark hair tucked in amidst the lightly colored bedding of her twin-sized mattress.

She wasn’t asleep. Maybe you had turned the door handle too quietly. Maybe she heard you and just didn’t care. Either way, when you closed the door with a soft snick, Nancy kept her eyes closed, continued to thrust her hips lightly against, you assumed, the hand hidden under her bedspread. You felt your heart stutter in your chest, your knees suddenly weak; she was beautiful, gorgeous, somewhere between frustrated and focused as she worked against her own skin. “Nance,” you whispered, and her eyes shot open, wide and all-too-innocent as she fluttered her lashes at you across the room. “Were you just masturbating?”

“Um,” she replied, cheeks dusting lightly with a pink blush that matched her bedspread, “U-uh…no, I was just…” Nancy’s eyes flitted nervously around the room, her lips pressing together into a hard, embarrassed line, and you watched her throat bob as she swallowed. It was the swallow that did it, of all things. Your newfound best friend, your roommate, laying in bed with her dark curls spread under her angelic face had already driven you to the edge, but watching her throat move as she swallowed, wishing you could taste that swallow, finally hurled you over the precipice you had been dancing on since the first time you had lain eyes on her.

“Want some help?” The words burst from between your lips, your body going cold and then hot as the blush raced under your skin. But the words were out, were hanging in the air between the two of you, and all you could do now was wait, your veins full of ice. Nancy’s eyes widened, her jaw relaxing and going slack so that her lips parted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the full, rosebud pink curves, wishing to be in between them; that’s why you couldn’t miss it when they shifted, just slightly, letting Nancy’s whispered “yes” glide under your skin.

The ice in your veins melted, the sudden liquid rushing in your ears, as the heat you had just dulled sparked back to life in your stomach. You pushed down the excitement, the fear that swirled through your body; it was important, so, so important that you handle this right. You walked towards her tiny bed slowly, giving her plenty of time to say “I was kidding!” or “Nevermind,” as you shifted her blankets aside, sliding your half-clothed body into the bed next to her. Nancy shifted her face, just slightly, so that her oversized eyes were trained on your face when she blinked, a rush of blood rising to the surface of her cheeks.

You looked down at Nancy’s slender body as you propped yourself up on one arm, pressing yourself closer to her under the warmth of the blankets. Jonathan–the mysterious Jonathan, who never came to visit when he said he would, who only existed to you as the framed photograph on Nancy’s desk–flashed in your mind, and you wondered if he was the reason Nancy was rutting her hips against her own hand; if he had spent those minutes you were in the shower whispering in her ear across the phone lines, making her desperate for him, for the feeling of his body pressed against hers. It doesn’t matter, you thought to yourself. I’m the one in bed with her. The thought made you blush, and your eyes skittered away from Nancy’s, floating down the outline of her body under the blankets she was covered by.

“You don’t have to–” Nancy suddenly whispered, watching the heat building along your neck and cheeks, and you cut her off, jumping on the words and stubbing the burning embers of her rejection out before it could flame. “I want to,” you whispered back, the words shocking you as they pressed into the room, making their presence felt in your core with a brush of heat. Nancy just stared, doe eyes blinking rapidly as she pressed her lips together, swallowing again and–fuck, what you would have given to taste the inside of her mouth. She looked, pointedly, at her body, hidden under the bedspread, before flashing her eyes back to you.

You pulled the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying it slightly, before slipping your free hand over her body, her flat stomach and soft thighs, until it was over the hand she still had wedged between her legs. “Move your hand, Nancy,” you commanded, watching the blankets so you didn’t have to look at her. When she pulled her hand away from her sex, you could have sworn that, for just a moment, she let her fingers brush against your palm.

Slowly, your fingers cupped around Nancy’s folds, luxuriating in the heat emanating from her skin. When you slipped your middle finger in between her lips, stroking once, you kept your face carefully turned away from hers, refusing to watch the shuddering gasp fall from her lips. Your finger was poised at her entrance, ready to push inside of her–or pull back–with the slightest hint of what she wanted. “Nance,” you said, your voice low and quiet. “This is going to feel better if I get you wet first.” You let the silence build between the two of you, stretching on for what felt like an agonizing length of time. “Can I kiss you?”

“O–okay.” The voice under you was timid, shy, unlike the Nancy you had come to know in the last few months. You angled your head towards hers, desperately seeking out her face in the dim light of your shared bedroom. Nancy was watching you, eyes eager as she licked her lower lip. The warm lap of fire in your core suddenly tightened, blazing as you leaned down, ducking your head to her strong jaw. Your lips pressed against the coolness of her skin, the hard line of her angular jaw, and you felt her chest hitch under you, her body shake with the desire that buried itself in her lungs at the touch of your mouth on her body.

You pulled back, peering at Nancy’s face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she lay under you, glowing in the soft beams of moonlight that slanted in through the window, radiant; she was a Renaissance painting against her pillow, a woman blissful in the throes of passion, seduced by an immortal god. Your body, your soul cried out for you to touch her, touch her, and you leaned down, pressing your lips against the long line of her throat, the column of smooth skin, before running your tongue over it. The tiniest, softest moan escaped Nancy’s lips as your tongue warmed her skin and–

You felt her body under your hand, still cupping her sex, flutter. Her walls tightened, almost imperceptibly, as your finger waited for her body to grant you entrance. When you felt the rush of slick dripping in between her folds, sliding over your hand, you slipped yourself inside of her. Nancy whimpered, eyes still closed under you as you curled your finger slightly, pressing against the warm, tight wall of her body. “Shh,” you murmured, and your free arm pressed itself into her pillow, your hand pushing her curls out of her face so you could watch her eyes tighten, her brow crease. She moaned again, barely more than a sigh, and you felt her hips tilt up, pushing your finger deeper inside of her. You couldn’t stop the grin that slipped over your lips–and she couldn’t see it, anyways, her eyes shut as her head rolled back on her pillow.

“More,” Nancy moaned, and you ignored the spreading heat in between your legs as you bullied a second finger into her. She was tight, much tighter than you ever would have dreamed, and you could feel her clenching around the forced spread of your hand inside of her. You rotated your wrist, pulling your fingers back before slipping them in again and again, never fully pulling them out as she gasped with each thrust. “More, more,” Nancy’s voice came to you like a prayer falling from her lips, begging, pleading for you to touch her; you dipped your head, lips latching on to her exposed collarbone as she mewled.

Nancy ground her hips against your hand, her desire coating your palm and other fingers now, desperate for more friction as you filled and stretched her. “What is it, babygirl?” You heard yourself whispering against Nancy’s throat, the words slipping out without your permission. “What do you need from mommy?” Nancy’s hips stuttered against your hand, a physical reflection of her shock at the growl in your words, the low, coaxing tone that wallowed in between your bodies.

“Need–I want–” Nancy stuttered, and you dared to glance up at her from where you suckled on her throat.

“Use your words.”

“I want you to touch my clit.”

“Good girl,” you whispered, and Nancy whimpered, a high-pitched sound that scratched itself out a home in your heart as it fell from her lips. You let your thumb push in between her folds, seeking out the swollen bud above her opening. Pushing into it, you reveled in the sound of Nancy’s breathing, harsh pants now as her hips lifted again and again. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl,” you breathed into her skin, fingers curling inside of her as your thumb rubbed harsh, fierce circles. “Keep going. Keep going until you cum for me, baby.”

Nancy whined at your words, and you felt her suddenly clench around you, drawing your fingers even deeper into her body. You moved your thumb faster, whispering “that’s my girl, that’s my girl, go ahead, baby,” as her panting turned into soft cries, little moans that elevated in pitch as her body pulled, tightening and releasing in short spasms. When she stopped, her hips slowing, her muscles loosening around you suddenly, you kept your fingers resting in her warmth. Pulling your face back from her neck, you carefully avoided Nancy’s eyes, avoided seeking out the sweat and blush on her face that was meant to be your reward, and carefully pulled your hand from her body, gentle as her walls twitched.

Your hand came up from under the blankets, dripping and coated in the clear expression of Nancy’s satisfaction, of what you had to assume was her enjoyment of your touch. You chanced a glance back at her, still lying on the pillows. Nancy’s eyes were on your hands, the corners of her eyes tight as her mouth pressed into a hard line; you felt the burn of rejection simmer in your gut, a byproduct of the guilt and shame you read in her face. “I’m just–I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you said, flipping Nancy’s blanket back and standing up suddenly, desperately hoping she couldn’t see the discoloration where your underwear was soaked through, couldn’t see the glimmer of slick dripping down your own thighs.

******************************************************************************

The two of you never spoke about it. Never, not once, over the next few months did you bring it up–and there were chances to. When you brought a girl home from a Halloween party, Nancy didn’t ask if you got her off the same way you did her; when she left to go back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving, you didn’t ask if her own hand would satisfy her the way yours had; and when either of you entered your room late at night, you both always knocked first, giving the other time to whip their hand out from their underwear and feign sleep.

It almost felt like you had made it up, like it was some too-vivid dream. Like you had dreamt what Nancy’s throat tasted like, like you had dreamt how her hair smelled like jasmine, like you had dreamt that her fingers had tightened in the fabric of your shirt as she came, like you had dreamt of her face cradled so gently in your palm while you pushed her hair out of her face.

Or worse–like you had dreamt up the little glances she shot you in the kitchen as you poured coffee, her eyes darting away nervously as soon as they met yours; had dreamt the way her eyes pulled together with hurt when you had walked the girl from the Halloween party out of your apartment, ducking slightly to avoid the kiss the girl had tried to press to your mouth at the front door, aware of Nancy’s gaze on the back of your head; had dreamt the blush that darkened her cheeks as she took calls from Jonathan in your living room, the phone ringing for her less and less often.

The one thing that you knew you weren’t creating in your own head was the silence. Because Nancy still changed in your shared room, exposing her full body–the soft, pale thighs your hand had parted, the pert, firm breasts you had felt against your torso when you leaned into her–to you as she pulled her clothes, but now she did it without speaking.

You would have let the silence go on forever, would have lived in quiet for the rest of the year and moved out in the spring and spent the rest of your life pushing thoughts of Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Fuckin’ Wheeler, out of your head for the rest of your life. Would have never spoken to her again, if that’s what she wanted, until December.

She had packed her bags, chattering at top speed to all of the roommates: Jonathan had called, had made plans for the two of them, had booked her a flight–she was going to California for Christmas. She’d spend the holidays wrapped around the boy you resented, snuggled warm under his blankets, his hand between her thighs instead of yours, exchanging presents and kisses, while you sat alone in the drafty apartment you all shared. The other roommates were going out of town, too, with promises to bring back their family’s cookies and cakes for you since you were the only one not planning on leaving for the month of break.

When Nancy left, she had flung an arm around the neck of each girl; had hugged them quickly, but fiercely, like she wanted them to know that she loved them but not enough to stay. When she walked up to you, her arms were slower–she wrapped both of the thin, long limbs around your waist instead of your neck, pulling you in tightly. Her lips ghosted over your racing pulse in your throat, a gentle brush that could have been mistaken for an accident, before she pulled back. “Bye!” She chirped, her voice as bright as her welling eyes. “See you in a month!”

The next few weeks were a haze. A disorienting blur of the other roommates leaving, of rides to the airport and lonely trips to the grocery store. Of waking up in an empty bedroom, no sounds of soft sighs and sleepy, content breaths from the other side of the room. You settled into a routine: Wake up, make breakfast, bundle up in your warmest coat and a thick scarf to go for a walk, come home, flick through TV while you snacked, make dinner, go to bed. It was boring, yes, but the routine settled you, and when thoughts of Nancy, images of her wide eyes and wider grin, her sharp brows and strong jaw, her long fingers and dark curls, danced across your retinas, you could shake your head and refocus on the task at hand. There was no space for the lingering hurt in your heart with your routine, no space to bemoan the state of your life and loneliness as you sat on the couch on Christmas Eve.

The routine was familiar at this point, comforting in the way it surrounded you with people and distractions while you were entirely alone. The routine is why it was so alarming when the front door swung open, accompanied by the loud thumps of a heavy suitcase hitting the floor. The routine was the reason you looked up so slowly, why it took your brain so long to process the small woman in your doorway wearing a skirt and t-shirt, shivering aggressively as tears slid down her face. “N–Nancy?” You asked, feeling your eyebrows draw together in confusion. She opened her mouth, the only thing coming out of it a wail.

“Nancy,” you said, standing up suddenly. You rushed to the door, wrapping your arms around her slender, icy frame. “Nancy, what’s wrong? What–Why are you here? Where is your fucking jacket?” You asked, your head turning quickly to look at the frozen flurries frolicking past your window, snowflakes glinting in the light of the streetlamps. A watery laugh burst from the chest wrapped under your arms.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Nancy asked, tilting her head slightly to peer up at you from watery lashes. “I come home,” she sniffed, wiping her nose as you relinquished your grip on her, “crying,” she said, emphasizing the word, “and you’re worried about me not having a coat?” She laughed again, the sound broken and making your heart ache.

“It’s freezing outside, Nance. You–come on, you need to get wrapped up. Come sit on the couch.” You pushed her farther into the apartment, following behind to swaddle her in the blankets, still warm from your own body heat, that were piled on the couch. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in California with Jonathan until January.”

She sniffed, running a finger under her eyes. “We broke up,” she said, her voice catching on the words. The story burbled out of her in stops and starts, tears and shuddering gasps interrupting her words as she recounted the morning’s conversation, how Jonathan had sat her down at the breakfast table, how he had explained that he wasn’t sure he could give her the life she wanted, she deserved, he said, and how, eventually, it had come down to the simplest words possible: We just don’t love each other anymore.”

Her hands reached out, sliding over the blankets to wind her fingers in between the spaces of yours. “He was right,” Nancy said, her voice more even now as the tears stopped. “He was right, we just–we don’t love each other anymore. I don’t think we have for a while. But I just–I wasn’t expecting it, you know? I thought–” she shook her head, a trickle of laughter flowing from her lips. “I thought I would just get through the next four years, and then I would marry Jonathan, and we’d have a couple of kids, and we would be normal. I wanted to be normal.” Her eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine before she shifted her gaze to your interlocked fingers. “I don’t think I can be normal, though. I think–I think I want something else for myself now.” Nancy’s fingers tightened, a shot of adrenaline coursing through your veins at the touch.

When she leaned forward, pressing her wide lips to yours, it caught you off guard. You jolted backwards, breaking the first real kiss the two of you had ever had. “Nance,” you whispered. “I’m– I don’t think we should–”

“Please.”

“You just broke up–”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about him like that anymore. I haven’t since–since before we–please, I just want you to touch me.”

You bit back the words that had been pushing for space on your tongue, the denials and the rebuffs that were rational and responsible. “Say that again.”

“I want you to touch me. Please.” The last word was a whimper, soft and quiet like she was ashamed of it, but it melted whatever lingering resolve was buried in your chest. You moved quickly, bringing your mouth to Nancy’s again, pressing lips together as you tilted your head, pressing hers back so that your tongue was able to slip easily into the space between her lips. She gasped, quietly, against your mouth, and you felt your heart rattle in your chest, chaotic and longing to be closer to her.

“I’m going to fuck you,” you whispered, moving your mouth to press harsh, hot kisses into her chin, her jawline, her neck, her throat, “until you forget that asshole’s name. Understood?” The whimper that fell from Nancy’s lips was your only verbal response, but she nodded her head vigorously, her brown curls shifting out of place with the motion; the way her fingers tightened around your arms, her nails digging into your skin as her head tilted back, a moan falling from her mouth, confirmed it for you as well.

Your fingers flew to her waistline and were met by her hands; you pulled her skirt down as she pushed her shirt up (a trickle of annoyance in the back of your mind that Jonathan, fucking Jonathan who’s been an invisible presence between the two of you for so long, let her come back here in the dead of winter wearing a t-shirt and a skirt). Your fingers find bare skin, exposed paleness dappled with large freckles here and there. It’s the first time you’ve seen her like this–the last time you touched her, she was covered the entire time, keeping herself hidden away from your prying eyes like a sacred relic, like she knew that you were greedy and would take as much of her as you could and would never, never give up what you held in your hand at that moment.

You wrapped your fingers around her waist, pressing your hands into the lines of muscle and sinew that separated you from her bones. Overcome, you dipped your head, pressing your nose flat into the soft padding above her belly button. The weight of your face pushed Nancy back onto the arm of the couch, her legs sprawling open as you fit your body between them so you could continue to touch the parts of her that reclined backwards. You dragged your nose up, letting your skin burn a path across her stomach as your nose and chin pushed up, up, until your chin was resting on the very bottom line of her bra. You settled your face there, Nancy’s fingers winding through your hair as she gripped your scalp, and blinked at her, a slow smile turning your lips as you took in her disheveled hair, pink cheeks, panting breaths. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi yourself,” she whispered back, a gentle smile settling over her face. She loosened her grip on your hair, and the long fingers brushed against your forehead. Nancy tilted her head, slightly, watching her own hands trace patterns over your skin. When her eyes drifted back to yours, you couldn’t help but see the warmness in them, the distant echo of a centuries old fireside that represented home. “Are you done? Or do I get more?” She asked, and you had to stop yourself from practically purring at the simplicity of her request, of the implication that she was just waiting this whole time for you to decide to give her more.

“Depends,” you said, smirking. “What’s your ex’s name?”

“Jonathan,” Nancy replied immediately, eyebrows pulling together.

“Must need more then,” you said, and turned your head abruptly to nip at the swell of the breast that threatened to spill out of the cup of her bra. Nancy’s sharp gasp was finished with a laugh, and your hands slipped under her torso to unclasp her bra, pulling the straps down her arms as you moved the material away from her skin. Her breasts fell free of the enclosure, the pink rosebuds already hard and drawn in the coolness of the air. You bite, playfully, at the curving line of her chest, soothing the small mark from your teeth with your tongue as Nancy whimpers. “Shh,” you whisper, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Your mouth moves, slowly and sloppily, to the hardened perk of her nipple, and you’re quick to take it in between your lips, sliding your tongue over it, around it, all but rolling it in your mouth. Nancy is gasping, little “yes”s bursting from her lips as your hands wander down from her sides, skimming over her narrow hips to clench the tops of her thighs that your body presses between. All she’s wearing underneath you is a pair of the satin panties you’ve spent the last semester watching her shimmy over her hips, wishing desperately to touch.

You lean back, letting your eyes wander over the expanse of her body as Nancy catches her breath. Her chest heaves under your eyes, her pulse throbbing in the column of her throat. “God,” you hear yourself whisper, voice rasping. “You are so fucking pretty for me, baby girl.” Nancy’s eyes widen, her lower lip wobbling as she takes in your words. Her arm extends, grabbing your wrist tightly as she pulls your fingers to her skin.

Nancy places the palm of your hand against her throat, your fingers instinctually wrapping around the slender column. You feel your eyes widen slightly, shocked by the unspoken request; her brows arc, right at the narrow ends, and you feel your face press into a grin. “Words,” you whisper, and Nancy’s eyes slip closed, a tiny smile playing at the curve of her full, swollen mouth.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please choke me. Please. I need you to–”

Her words end abruptly, a gentle sigh replacing her voice as your fingers tighten, pressing into the harsh pulse on the sides of her throat. Your other hand slips between her legs, finding the skin of her inner thighs slick with longing. “Oh, you’re such a good girl,” you whisper, and Nancy’s moan makes your stomach tighten, your core throb. Your fingers slide the soft fabric of her underwear to the side, pushing in between the folds to seek out her center.

“Wait,” Nancy huffs, and you loosen your fingers around her throat, eyes flashing to her face with concern. You look over her, eyes darting for signs of distress, for too-red cheeks or teary eyes. “I just–you already–please, just let me go down on you.” You lean back, feeling your eyebrows climb over your face as your lips part slightly. “Please. Mommy.” The words are stilted, falling from her mouth like bricks, but the light blush snaking over her cheeks tells you that Nancy knows, she knows what she wants, and she wants you.

You nod, the movement subtle. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want.” She preens under your words, her eyelashes fluttering as a soft smile highlights the apples in her cheeks. Nancy’s fingers are gentle, slow where yours were quick, as they grab the hem of your night shirt; she pulls it over your head carefully, eyes on yours until your skin is exposed. The cool air of the apartment hits you, causing goosebumps to rise on your soft form.

“You’re so…” Nancy’s voice trails off, quiet as her doe eyes roam over your skin. “Beautiful,” she says, the word hanging in the air between the two of you, glimmering with traces of months worth of pent-up longing. “You’re so beautiful.” Her eyes meet yours, a spark of electricity bouncing from her to tighten your heart in your chest. Nancy leaned forward, pressing her mouth to yours as you fell back against the worn couch. Her delicate hands guide you to lie down on your back, the top of your head pressing into the bottom of the arm of the couch. “Beautiful,” she whispers, pressing her mouth into your throat; “Beautiful,” she says again, her lips cloying at your collarbone; “Beautiful,” hushed, like a prayer, at the curve of your breast; “Beautiful,” louder now, spoken into the softness of your stomach; “Beautiful,” a moan, this time, as you slip your underwear down your legs, exposing your heat to her mouth.

Nancy is quick now, her lips pressing once to the skin above your already-damp folds. You feel her fingers spread you, her body tightening with anticipation in between your clenched thighs. A finger pushes against your opening, the muscles fluttering at the slight pressure. “Is this okay?” Nancy asks, and she pulls her eyes away from your body to gaze up at you. You nod, aware that any words from your lips would come out cracked, broken, as pathetic as you’ve felt dreaming of this moment for the last few months.

Nancy’s finger slides into your core, and a soft sigh falls from your lips. She’s gentle, caring with her hand already up to the palm inside of you. The finger curls, just slightly, as she pulls it back, and your eyelids flicker at the pressure against your walls. She pushes a second finger in, stretching you just slightly as she works her hand against you, forcing a small whine from your lips. “You’re okay?” She says, the end of the sentence rising like a question as her eyes meet yours again. You nod, your eyes already feeling hazy as you watch her watch you. “Can I…use my mouth?” The question is hesitant, tentative, shy.

“Don’t ask so many questions, Wheeler,” you mutter, cheeks burning as your voice shakes. A slow smile spreads over her face, and Nancy pulls her fingers from your warmth and dips her face to the space between your thighs. You can feel her tongue, flat and wide, licking a stripe between your lips; when it passes your gaping hole, you whimper and lift your hips, trying to grind into her face. Her tongue whisks over your clit, barely more than a fleeting brush, but it makes you gasp, the sound echoing through the empty apartment.

“Oh,” Nancy sighs, and her eyes are narrowed, quizzical as she looks at you again. “You want both? Want to be filled and licked?” You nod again, the desire to mock her endless questions dying on your tongue as her fingers slide back in, quickly now that she’s in familiar territory. Your head rolls back on the couch under you, and your eyelids slide closed. When her tongue returns to the swollen burst of nerves, you whimper–the sound is long, loud, ludacris when coupled with the sound of her fingers thrusting into your wetness. “Oh,” Nancy moans–really, truly, moans, into your dripping cunt, and the vibrations send shockwaves through your skin.

“Fuck,” you mutter, and your hands are suddenly wound in her hair, giving you something to hold on to as you rut your hips against her face. Her nose, her tiny, perfect nose, is pressing against your skin, her tongue lapping fast, wide strokes at your clit, and her fingers are starting to relax, to spread from each other and stretch where you’re tightest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, and Nancy’s fingers are faster, harder, while she lets you use her face for friction. “Oh, Nance–Nancy–Don’t–Please don’t–stop–” The words are coming out of your mouth in between hitched breaths, breaking in little gasps and cracks as you force them out, desperate to tell her that if she stops–if her tongue slows, if her fingers disappear, if any of it goes–you’re pretty sure you’ll die on the spot.

“Nance,” you mewl, the word falling from your full lips like a prayer, “Nance, I’m gonna–don’t stop, I’m gonna c–” It’s the last word you get out before your back arches, body tightening around her fingers, a sharpness in your spine curving in on itself until it’s unleashed, the arrow of your desire loosed from the bow of Nancy’s lips. The sound that drips from your mouth is high pitched, cradled on each end by gasps, and you swear you can feel Nancy grinning into your body as she continues, relentlessly fucking you through your freefall.

When you finish, she sits up and pulls her hand from you. You watch as Nancy sits back on her knees, slips her fingers into her mouth. Any thought you would have had at that moment–what does this mean, are we together now, are we going to talk about this, holy shit that was the best orgasm of my fucking life–dissapear from your head as you watch Nancy’s eyes close, an expression of bliss on her features as her mouth cleans you from her hand. She removes her fingers with a subtle pop, and you try to bring your gaze from her lips back to her eyes unsuccessfully. Your eyes are still on her lips, which is why you can’t miss when she says it.

“Jonathan.”

“What?” You ask, eyebrows jumping together in confusion and shock.

“Jonathan,” Nancy repeats, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “I still remember his name.”

You take a moment, letting your earlier conversation roll through your mind. A devilish smile turns up the corners of Nancy’s mouth as she watches you put the pieces together. “Right,” you say, sitting up with a grin on your own face, “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.”

#nancy wheeler smut #nancy wheeler stranger things #nancy wheeler fic #nancy wheeler/you #nancy wheeler/reader #nancy stranger things #nancy wheeler fanfiction #nancy wheeler x afab!reader #nancy wheeler/afab!reader #nancy wheeler x you #nancy wheeler x reader #sapphic nancy wheeler #queer nancy wheeler #wlw nancy wheeler #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fan fiction #my fic #maxanon

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munamania · 6 months

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ok and now i need to talk this out on here cause like in all reality idc that much but this is just a little. awk. i might do this under the cut just so i can talk in a bunch of little paragraphs if thats chill ok ty

sooooo right ive mentioned that sam has been talking abt having beef specifically w his roommates but also that friend group at large bc they went on spring break trips w/o him. The roommate took a duo trip with fellow dyke and everyone else did like a big thing together erm

right thats just the context idrc except for the amount of times sams vaguely alluded to it and idk any other details. um but he has called his roommates like the 'poison pills' of the whole ordeal since they literally live together (but they havent been that close. prob since their freshman year when sam was out for a semester. which isnt inherently er bad but hes acting like hes been victimized for the last few years)

and like last night after this long sesh of working on our assignment sam and i r walking to the bus stop and he says something about finding out just like shitty awful drama and how it sucks having to live with 'two of those people' lmao sorry im not laughing im just like. whatever

this said i have plans to see. should i name sams roommate. ok i cant do that rn but we have plans to hang on monday and i would be seeing sam like immediately after for class. and esp if we're hanging out on campus like we might have a repeat of last time where sam spots us out and im not sure if he'd approach and hang this time. but hes obviously aware that me and them like chat

so it's like not so subtle that hes trying to get me to either ask abt the roommate or flat out not trust/see them anymore and i just havent engaged which might come across as "fake" but like. well ill be honest man theyre all a year younger than me and that doesnt mean much but it does feel very immature to handle things this way idk the whole story but im not gonna get roped into the like Omg i cant talk to this person bc of beef idk about...

and maybe i should feel worse abt not being #loyal to someone who is or at least at one point was considered a friend esp when it comes to someone that yeah ig he does know better than i but i dont... sorry ive been talking abt this bitch like cady and regina george except im not psychosexually obsessed im just like. hes been more insufferable than i remember lately yk.

i feel the Tiniest bit bad and like oh have i taken advantage of u bc yk we've hung and smoked and had dinner together often at ur place and def wormed my way into talking to the roommate via u etc but then i remember the way sam talks abt like anything and i dont feel all that bad

and theres this whole thing abt the eclipse i dont have plans to go see it it might happen last second but now after sams asked me abt it and messaged me like yeah idk we (him and his bestie) could maybe take a bus but we'd need a place to stay (asking to stay w my family bc i mentioned it like once on my close friends) and then theyre like going to a diff city anyway like oh my gooooood it's gonna be seen as shady and i dont really CARE i just need assurance that this is stupid as hell and its ok if im a little bit of an asshole about it. i dont think being mad abt the eclipse would hold up but w/e

has not been at the top of my worries and still isnt but now that this is all coming up in the next week im like frank g*llagher voice (sorry) oh Jesus Christ. you know

#abby talks

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vanilladrpepper · 6 months

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SHARE COLLEGE AU

HBDJVBDJFH ok. ok.

the basic premise is that like. any character that could be hced as indigenous. is hced as indigenous . and then u take everyone and plop them in 1999 in a college setting with some added bg for each of the characters and motivations and stuff yk

i will admit it is ww centric as its written from his vague pov (third person limited omniscient) but i digress. hes in november trying to get a degree asap so he can fulfill an ultimatum proposed by chapel so he can get livio out of the system and fuck off back to the reservation he grew up on (for context ww is crow+seminole and livio is crow) but he shows up to the college and his roommate is this . scene guy. enter legato our favorite french canadian (besides hornfreak love u hornfreak) who becomes begrudging besties. sort of . with ww

he recommends him a coffee shop and ww goes there before going shopping for shit he needs and thus we get one of our big hubs of the au: threes a crowd! a number of characters work there including brad, luida, zazie (navajo) and of course. vash (mixed white + kanien'keha:ka) he meets him and doesnt really like . register him much beyond it bc hes got bigger fish to fry :sob:

and obv ive planned a lot more (36 chapters for part one. augh) including but not limited to: ww struggling through his coursework (majoring in social work) and being aided by one of his teachers (roberto. love u king u may be tristamp only but u have bewitched me) (hes also ojibwe. love him), ww joining up with a mentor club and accidentally befriending two journalism majors (meryl and milly!!!! inuk and seneca respectively) (also specifically meryl is a photojournalism major!), ww continually running into this one pipsqueak around town who gives him attitude (zazie <3), and also dealing with whatever situationship legato is in (i could not resist making him and nai messy as fuck)

theres also obv other characters that r in there that im still trying to sew in in a way that makes sense: elendira (journalism professor, russian + sami), rollo (mexican + southern paiute, havent entirely decided on his major though so sorry king), hornfreak (a part of the school band. fascinating man. at one point he holds a halloween party) and a bunch of others i havent gotten to yet :sob:

theres a lotttt going on in this au ill be honest but also objectively it is very slice of life . but heres a list of stuff i have planned

vash and nai as lacrosse players. vash invites ww out to games and is really silly abt it

for a not insignificant amount of time ww learns about legatos situationship and bc legato never mentions names he thinks vash has a secret insane ass thing going on with legato . it isnt until chapter 11 (allegedly) that he finds out vash has a twin brother and goes back to legato like . hey. is it vash and legatos like ew what?

milly and meryl are enraptured by roberto working at the school bc he did a lot of journalism work that inspired them to join the field. silly shenanigans ensue

on the topic of milly and meryl they are so fascinating to me. they originally met in the mentor club and hit it off immediately based on their similar (but different) familial issues and the horrors

vash and ww plan out a bunch of movie nights including: scream, 10 things i hate abt you and smoke signals

chapel drama followed immediately by ill-timed vash and ww argument

while ignoring vash ww gets a nokia <3 love loses

at the halloween party milly accidentally walks in on them in a compromising position (nothing was happening) and awkward bs ensues where vash comes around and it like its ok theyre chill and Not Gay but it wouldnt change anything if they Were Gay but They Arent so its Fine

livio and ww apartmentsitting for vash and nai while theyre off visiting family during the holidays :D

nye party where vash and ww almost kiss and thus ends part 1 . LOVE LOSES

also i should list what everyones majoring in that i didnt mention but this is already long enough good lord

all this to say. i am insane god bless

some small cuts from the draft so far beneath the cut bc i couldnt resist

none of those are in order but its ok <3

#like i said. extremely self indulgent but its ok <3 #love and light #ive written around 12k for it so far but ive barely scratched the surface dear lord #asks #my writing #theres also so many small things that im wanting to incorporate into it like #for example #im wanting to showcase livio finding independence and figuring stuff out for himself while also stressing chosen family and the importance #of support #bc at the start bc of how livio is treated by hopeland at large + chapel (not miss melanie shes normal)#hes dealing w a lot of like. learned helplessness and frustration abt it all bc hes being treated with kid gloves 24/7 bc he has did right #and on top of that everyone avoids him and all hes really got is miss melanie. ww. some of the attendants at the church he gets sent off #to spend his time at #so hes like. painfully isolated even at 18 bc chapel treats him like a charity case and keeps him there 'out of the goodness of his heart'#so over the course of the au i want to explore livio finding his voice and figuring shit out and maybe. maybe even having a full blown #argument w ww where he lashes out bc hes frustrated that everyone is making decisions for him right #i just oaughughagknsgbgsf #THERES SO MUCH I WANT TO EXPLORE IN THE AUUUUU #SO MUCH #rubs my gay little hands together #ALSO FAIR WARNING #im researching a lotttt for this au bc obv . u have to research shit #even like 'dorm room prep' like what the fuck is that long ass laundry list #insane

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boypussydilf · 2 years

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I'm going to throw you a curve ball and say Sherly and that one guy whose name I don't remember who you ship him with (I think it's Soseki?)

idont know how to say this without unintentionally sounding mean but this is the second funniest ask ive ever gotten. (i was going to say funniest, but i cant lie even for comedic purposes- the funniest ask ive ever gotten was “shouldve KNOWN an AKESHU shipper would RIP MY THROAT OUT IN PUBLIC for mentioning shusumi”) i got curious and looked at all the relationship tags for dgs on ao3 until the site wouldnt let me anymore and i can almost conclusively say tht no one on this earth ships sherlock and souseki, which, to be honest, is kind of a surprise. on my journey i learned just how dire the state of the dgs ao3 relationship tags really are. i hadnt looked that hard, and i had thought, “oh, woe is me, only about 200 of these are homumiko” There are less than 30 with the susahao tag. theres like, a Small Handful of fics with kazuma interacting w iris or yuujin. This is. This is awful. Someone needs to fix this. What’s wrong with you people? You could have filled this website with one hundred Kazuma Asougi Gets Forcibly Absorbed Into The Greatest Family fics and you’re still asobaroing away? Unbelievable. Unbelievable.

Anyway it’s completely understandable to mix up souseki and mikotoba when you havent seen a ton of them they do both . have mustaches. thank you for thr ask and also for always calling him Sherly bc its cute here we go

describe their canon relationship/dynamic

*putsmy head in my hands* they have like 2 hours of screentime interacting its hard to describe a dynamic beyond “God they are so mean to each other”. its ok though. Its ok. the concept is very clear honestly. World’s Most Hyperactive and Completely Insane Man & Completely Normal Guy Who Goes Along With It. Oh My God They Were Roommates. lets see. serious notes. they trust each other completely and implicitly (mikotoba has to find a good home for The Baby He Was GOING To Raise But CAN’T and asks sherlock and he IMMEDIATELY agrees On The Spot my god ……) look . what do u call devotion if not saying “our home” about a place youve been away from longer than u ever lived at and thought youd never even see again & acting like you were never separated in the first place. Unreal. unreal.

anyway the fact of the matter is theyre literally just another variation on the Holmes & Watson concept go read an acd sherlock holmes story and imagine if they were ace attorney characters and idk i think youd more or less have it

your ideal/headcanon version of it? how does it differ from how it is in canon & why is this your favorite version? any other alternate versions of it you enjoy?

*pulls out my giant conspiracy board and 90% of it is just screenshots of fanfic The Legendary Pair by Meowzy on AO3* IF YOU LOOK AT IT. THE NOT-REALLY-INDICATED-BY-CANON BUT MORE FUN AND COOL TO ME VERSION OF IT. it makes this A Necessary Relationship. sherlock is. smart in Some places. definitely observant. But has. 0 common sense. you would think hes never been to this planet before with his apparent complete lack of frame of reference for what is or is not plausible or likely. there is too much shit going on in his brain for him to figure out which ideas are Actually Likely without taking like 2 days to work it out. Give him someone who actually has common sense and can crossreference What Sherlock Has Actually Noticed And Figured Out with What Actual Human Beings Generally Would Do.

OHGOD MAYBE I CAN TRY TO ELABORATE IN A MORE SERIOUS TONE ON MY FUCKING “YUUJIN MIKOTOBA SILLY ARC” POST. GOD. what im attempting to drive at is thinking abt . the idea proposed of 16-years-ago sherlock being more of a prickly little bitch and, Much More Importantly, mikotoba going to britain to try and escape the Grief Of Losing His Wife & subsequent Depression That Made Him Unfit To Take Care Of His Baby . and then theyre . again, worlds most hyperactive and completely insane man, and, again, GUY WHO TAP DANCES DURINVG INVESTIGATIONS ?!!!!?!???????????

basically fuck you *gives you by chance a fundamentally life altering friendship right when you need it*

Anyway i dont think theyre that different in my head than in canon but its hard to say.

what do you like about their relationship, why is it interesting or enjoyable to you?

i like it because i think they are neat. i like it bc i love families and fuck dude they sure do have one. i like it bc i am a dgs sherlock holmes kinnie and this drives my behavior,

what about the individual characters involved? what does this relationship mean to them, what makes it unique among their relationships?

*SCREAMS* BESTIES. anyway,

sorry for once again saying serious concepts in the dumbest fucking ways possible but Pov u are yuujin mikotoba age 26 leaving ur home to try and run away from the deepest pain of ur life & deciding not to stick with ur very close friends uve known for quite a while as you do so? For some reason? AND IT WORKS ???????????? in some part bc of this weirdo freak u moved in with impulsively who keeps almost blowing the fucking house up?

This is basically something i already said in this post earlier and i STILL . cant think of an actual good way to say it. I guess just . as many people on this blog may have noticed. me wh. me when stories involve the way positive connections with others help people <3

Also basically the only 2 reactions sherlock seems to invoke in people are “this guys insufferable” and “this guys insufferable but i also admire him” - god the trajectory of this train of thought just changed drastically im laughing so hard Bear with me . mikotoba is of course in th second camp bc thats where all sherlocks Positive relationships are. this is known to us. see: thr dialogue where hes like “Well your methods are unusual but ive always been willing to try them :)” (and then sherlock yells at him for being stupid.) anyway thats wonderful and its also Wonderful. mikotoba shortly after meeting sherlock watching this man rip up a handful of grass an d just eat it and then solve an entire mystery and mikotoba has to work out if this guys a genius or insane. He quickly realizes it is both. Anyway i guess to yuujin mikotoba sherlock holmes is his dear friend and partner & also the guy who cursed him to occasionally think “i DO wonder what that grass tastes like” at inopportune times

I don’t know WHAT the fuck i just rambled about for like ten minutes. So anyhow. sherlock describes mikotoba as “the only person i could truly call a friend” so shoutout to this friendless man i guess . no but literally hes a little weirdo freak and people dont tend to. like him. societal perceptions of ND people are not conducive to sherlock holmes having close friends . (Also he might not be. or might at some point not have been. particularly social in the first place - But this is my extrapolation based on acd canon and nothing in dgs at all so it cant be counted as anything other than my female hysteria.) and like. epic win for him finding someone who can Tolerate Him Enough To Live With Him and not just that but like . Actually Likes Him. Actually Likes Being Around Him And Would Like To Be His Friend. Congrats! also a win 4 him having like, a normal human being around. who can keep track of him and yknow. Help him remember important things. make sure he actually sleeps and eats instead of spending 42 hours straight trying to make The Sequel To Toasters (It’s Also A Juicer!)

favorite interaction they have in canon

oh,my god you know the thing is theres not a Lot of them but what there is is Really Good Actually.

on one hand we have the shit from the legendary pair scene like “:/ only JAPANESE mice go Chu. make a RUSSIAN mouse noise” or “YOUR BIRTHDAY? THATS FUNNY BC AS OF TODAY YOURE DEAD TO ME :D” “measured as always.” On the other hand we have the part from the scene after the last trial where sherlock thanks mikotoba for leaving iris in his care.

Basically i dont know how to decide. im going to say the Other part of the scene after the last trial where sherlock is excitedly telling mikotoba a story about something he did. With mikotoba. like a day before. and mikotoba lets him get through thr whole fucking thing before going Yeah i was. i was there.

favorite interaction they have in your head/a situation you want to put them in

OH GOD I DONT KNOW ACTUALLY. what is there to say beyond the Default List Of Every Homumiko Fans Shared Interests. its all been done. “Remember That Time They Raised A Baby Together For A Month”; “Have You Heard Of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Adventures of Sherlock Holmes? Great Here’s My Adaptation-“; “Put That Beast (Sherlock) In Japan LOL”. i will say that like. i dont remember where but theres some tiny bit of optional dialogue where iris says that sherlock playing the violin was a detail she wrote into the stories for fun and then after that he felt obligated to actually learn. i think a lot of people dont know this or dont use this. which is fine its a tiny random one off line i wouldnt even be able to track down. and a lot of people have the order of events go sherlock has violin -> mikotoba learns to tap dance, Look another musical thing matchy matchy :) . which again is FINE. BUT. isnt the other order of events - the order that it’s only reasonable to assume is canon - more fun ? Sherlock goes HEY GUESS WHAT I LEARNED VIOLIN NOW WE CAN MAKE MUSIC TOGETHER. He has not seen mikotoba in person in 9 years

thats the end of the post thank you i like the dads

#OH GOD 8M SO FUCKING SORRY !!!!!!!#THIS POST TOOK OVER AN HOUR TO WRITE #I REALLY. I THOUGHT IT WOULDNT GET LONG #AND THEN IT GOT LONG.#AND ITS PROBABLY COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FUCKING INCOMPREHENSIBLE TOO.#HIIIIIII #basilask #dgs from my brain

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rileybellerose · 7 months

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Do you think that it's difficult to spend time alone with yourself? In that case name some daily activities that you do to feel better about it and be honest 💌

for me, alone time is nice up to a certain point but then it goes from being comfy, quiet, introspective and meditative to being desolate, achy, lonely and isolating very quick. i try to stay away from that tipping point by at least having a base level of interaction with other human beings almost constantly, usually through text/voice chats on discord or going for a walk/interacting with society a little at the coffee shop. also generally just keeping myself distracted and occupied with online video games/hobbies while alone, finding a balance of recreational activities and productivity that meets how im feeling and what i need to get done. i'll remind myself that i have people who care deeply for me by reaching out to them over text or writing poetry about them or making things for them and just holding out in my mind that i'll see them again soon and that even though i'm alone in this moment, I'm not at all alone in my life. i would almost consider my worst inner thoughts when alone like a roommate who's annoying to live with, but if you can get that mental roommate to stop bitching for 10 minutes and come play some silly games you can get to the point where it's not so bad to live with them and you can learn to have fun by yourself. make that mental roommate a snack plate and coax them out of their room with really niche youtube video essays or bring them their guitar to practice! idk if any of this makes sense but yea ^_ ^ something something distraction with special interests, maintaining human connection at a distance and learning to be a caregiver for your internal lonely self.

i also talk to my stuffies ♡

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septembersummer · 3 years

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COLLEGE FRIENDS W BENEFITS OR JUST ANYthing college/uni PLAYBOY GOJO X READER please im starving

hehehe let's go ~

i actually love this prompt so much! playboy/fwb gojo is one of my favs. thanks for the req!

18+ only! minors dni!

wc: 1.4k

desc: gojo satoru is a player, and everyone knows it. maybe he'll get a taste of his own medicine for once~

tags: gojo x reader, college au, fwb au, gojo has a tongue ring, oral s*x, public s*x, possessive gojo, role reversal hehe, gojo is a fkboy, alcohol use

a/n's: pls excuse my typos lmao hope u have fun

You were shocked the day that Satoru Gojo first paid attention to you.

He has many names around campus, and none of them are good. He's a player, a filthy rich boy who's never known the struggles that others go through when trying to survive college.

He needs to write an English paper? Well, that's no big deal; he's got a girlfriend who's an English major, and if she hates him this week-- he'll just hire someone to do it for him! The same goes for probability and statistics, whatever science class he's signed up for (he doesn't remember, it's not like he attends much, anyway), and he can't even be bothered to worry about his electives.

However, there's one girl in his assigned history class that's been catching his eye recently. Most of the girls in here have come and gone (pun intended), but this one's different. You know the answers to the questions, always mumbling them under your breath without ever raising your hand to speak.

Satoru knows this about you, because he pays more attention to you than to anything that's said in the lecture, and he's curious to learn more about you and your mysterious aura. See, he's learning things at university! Just not the things that he's supposed to.

You sit across the room from him, and you never pay attention to him, even though you must be able to feel his attention constantly lingering on you. Your fingers drum on your keyboard quickly, and Satoru finds himself wondering how small they'd look wrapped around his--

He's distracted from his train of thought when a miracle happens. A god's honest miracle.

For the first time in six weeks (he's counted), you turn your gaze to look at him, and you scowl. Your expression only piques his interest more, unbeknownst to you.

That one look must be the reason that you keep bumping into Satoru Gojo, even though you've never intentionally done so. See, you aren't dumb, and you don't want to get involved with a player like him. You've seen the girls that hate Satoru, and all of them have a great reason to do so.

He stood me up on a date, because he was going on another date instead!

He only hooked up with me once, just so I'd write a paper for him! I fucking hate Satoru.

He let me give him head and kicked me out right after, like, who does that?

He tried to have a threesome with me and his roommate--

Maybe the last one isn't so bad, but still. You've heard the rumors, you've seen the shit-show that comes with him, so much so that you could easily quote the words that he says to girls when he kicks them out after he's finished with them.

So, when he bumps into you at a party, your first thought is thanks, but no thanks.

The pretty boy, however, takes your clear dismissal as a challenge. Maybe it's because he's a little drunk, and you're here at his apartment (you don't know that, you were just hanging out with Shoko-- swear!), but Satoru thinks that tonight is the night that he wants to see a whole new side of the shy girl from history 2256.

"Excuse me," you mumble, as Satoru bumps into you, nearly spilling your beer.

He doesn't leave. Instead, he places a hand on the wall that you're standing up against, effectively trapping you against the drywall as he stares down at you.

His eyes are magnificent, ethereal, something that shouldn't belong to a human, but you aren't interested. You've told yourself a thousand times that you aren't interested-- no need to falter now.

"You don't look like a beer girl, wallflower," he hums, leaning over you and licking his lips.

When you see the glint of something that looks like a silver tongue-ring, your resolve falters, though only slightly.

"Who says I'm a wallflower?" You reply, trying not to feel so small standing next to him, but he really is huge.

He knocks on the drywall behind you, "See this? This is a wall, and you're standing against it at a party. Think that makes you a wallflower, according to the book."

Your eyes narrow, "Did you read that book?"

"Do I look like I read that book?"

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and the beer is working its magic. Even though he's saying basically nonsense, the mischievous gleam in his eye is drawing you into him.

Gone is the frat party that you've been watching from a distance. Literally, it's blocked out by his broad shoulders. He's wearing a thrasher hoodie, and goddamnit if he doesn't actually pull it off, despite the fact that you're sure this pampered, rich boy has never been on a skateboard in his life.

"No, you don't look like you've ever read anything," you reply, lowering your voice to a soft murmur.

What happens after that is a blur to you, but you aren't particularly upset about it in hindsight. It didn't take long for him to work his magic, for you to find his arrogant sense of humor a little endearing, and for him to find your openly insulting comebacks to be a cute little challenge for him.

A challenge that he's won.

He can tell that he's won, because you're lying in his bed with your legs spread wide, as he devours you. The party is still raging in the next room, but the only remnant of whatever's happening there that remains in this dark room is the methodic thumping of the music outside trickling into the room as he kisses, sucks, and slurps your pussy until you're mewling, grasping onto his hair for dear life.

Say what you will about the spoiled, filthy rich boy who goes through girls like they're disposables-- he's great at what he does.

"Satoru-- Satoru-- right there, I'm gonna-- nggh, ah--" you mewl, rocking your hips against his pretty lips, feeling his tongue ring slip over your clit, teasing and testing, while he fingers eagerly pump in and out of you.

"Mhm, cum for me, wallflower," he purrs, before giving an especially hard suck to your clit, and you're falling over the edge before you know it.

The room spins, and the only things grounding you are the thumping of the bass outside, and Satoru's hands that keep your thighs spread widely apart for him.

Even with hot cheeks, your resolve hasn't faltered that quickly yet. You sit up, placing your smaller hands overtop of his to pry them off of your thighs. He looks up at you in the darkness with confusion written all over his pretty features.

In response, you ruffle his hair affectionately and wipe your slick off of his glossy, soft lips, before leaning down to press a kiss to them.

"That was great, babe," you purr, "I'll call you next time I want you to do that for me."

"What?" He mumbles with shock written all over his features, as you stand up and fix your pants.

"Oh, did you think I wanted something serious?" You ask, remembering all those girls that have complained to you about Satoru's behavior.

At this point, you could quote him.

So, you do.

"You don't wanna spend the night?" He asks, looking a little frantic and confused, sitting up on the bed now as he watches you.

"Nah," you say, mimicking his tone, "but we'll see each other in class, Monday, right?"

"Our class is Tuesday," he mumbles dejectedly, as you lean over him to press another quick kiss to his lips.

"Ah, I forgot," you reply, caressing his cheek softly, "but I'll definitely call you, mmkay?"

You turn on your heels and head for his bedroom door, not even sparing him a glance as you leave through it and flatten your hair, off to find Shoko and get the fuck out of here.

Little did you know, trying to outdo Satoru in his own game would only lead you to trouble.

Which is why the next time he sees you, the two of you only have to exchange one heated glance before you're excusing yourself to the bathroom in the middle of the lecture, and Satoru's following right behind you.

The kind of trouble where every Tuesday at 10:15am, you find yourself bent over the sink in the girl's bathroom, as Satoru fucks into you roughly and reminds you that he's the only one that gets to see you like this.

And you like trouble, so you smirk and meet his eyes in the mirror, murmuring, "Ha, no way."

He only fucks you harder after.

#septemberanswers #request #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #lemon fic #college au #fwb au #fwb fic #septembersummerao3 #gojo satoru has a tongue ring #tongue ring

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delicrieux · 4 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Eight-Part 1)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 11.5k (part 1)

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, oc struggles with her future, mentions of vibrator, mentions of cum eating, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation, swallowing

Notes: I am having to post this chapter in two parts, I am so sorry about that! But here it is!! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19

Previous ---- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September

“What about this one?” You hold up another birthday banner, showing Vanessa yet another option.

“Ugly.” She says.

This is the fourth fucking birthday banner you’ve shown her and she doesn’t approve of any of them. But you have to admit this one is a little ugly.

“Vanessa…” you groan out, getting very obviously frustrated.

“I like this one.” She points to a banner. The very first one you showed her.

“Seriously?” you grab the banner and place it in your cart. “Okay, we still have to pick up the cake at 3. And we need to make sure we have enough plates for everyone…oh! We also still have to pick up the bottles at the liquor store.”

“I can get the cake.” She replies smoothly.

“We can just go together?”

Today is Jungkook’s birthday and you and Vanessa have been (Kind of) texting throughout the last week trying to find a good day to meet up. The day happened to be today of all days, so you’re feeling quite rushed.

“Fine.” Vanessa picks at her cuticles, just standing here looking gorgeous.

You on the other hand…were not expecting this to be a fashion show! You’re in shorts and a t shirt while she wears a flowy green dress and sandals.

“I want to be the one to present his cake to him though,” Vanessa begins, her eyes never leaving her fingers, “I am his girlfriend after all.”

You hate that your chest tightens at her words, you hate how her words affect you like this, how she affects you like this. Just being in her presence alone makes your heart twist.

“Got it.” You place some birthday plates in the cart, “So…what did you get him for his birthday?” you try to make conversation.

“A cologne.”

“You know he’s sensitive to smells—”

“He likes this one.”

“Oh.”

“I know him better than you think y/n.” her smooth voice cuts you like a butcher knife.

You nod your head, not knowing what to say. Maybe she does. But like, you still know him better right? You got to, right?

“What about you?” Vanessa lifts her eyes to meet yours, her eyes are small and dark and inviting.

“Uh, to be honest…I’m meeting with Jimin after this so we can go shopping for his gifts. So, I don’t know yet but I have an idea.”

“And what’s your idea?” her eyes go back down to her nails that she keeps picking at.

“Friendship bracelets.” You state.

“Hm.” Vanessa pushes the cart forward and walks towards the isle with candles. “We still need nice candles for the cake.”

“Right.”

~~~~~~~

“It couldn’t have been that bad, babe.” Jimin holds up a plain black hoodie and nods approvingly. “Another one for his collection, what do you think?”

“Looks like something I’d steal, so yes.” You give him a quick thumbs up, “And it was bad dude. She’s so hard to talk to!”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Jimin stands in front of a full body length mirror and checks himself out, pushing his hair out of his face. “Forehead or no forehead, tonight?”

“Hmm, no forehead.”

“Forehead it is.”

“Wow, you never listen to me!”

Jimin chuckles wholeheartedly, shrugging his shoulders like he agrees with you.

“So, where are these bracelets you keep going on about?”

“That one weird shop buy the smoothie place has these cute bracelets with letters for names on them! I was thinking I could get him a black one with my initial on it and I would get myself one with his initial.”

“You guys are so…that’s cute I guess.” Jimin giggles, he holds up his wrist as if imagining himself with the bracelet. “I want one too!” he whines.

“Maybe for your birthday.” You wink. “Anyway, do you think Vanessa knows Jungkook better than me?”

Jimin stops walking to get a look at you, an expressions that reads: Are you serious? Plastered on his face.

“It’s a valid question.” You say.

“No one knows Jungkook like you honey.”

“Okay…Also, you’ll be meeting my friend Yoongi tonight!”

“The not date, date guy?” Jimin pouts, “I thought you weren’t going to lead him on…”

You scrunch up your face in confusion,

“I can have friends Jimin, I’m not leading him on!” you try to defend.

“If you say so. Just like, try to focus on one boy at a time, you know?” Jimin teases.

You two walk to the shop that sells the bracelets and go inside. You find the bracelets you’re looking for rather quickly, feeling nice and lucky. You grab them and go to pay, when you finish up at the register you notice a Jack Skellington key chain and add it on to Jungkook’s gifts. You always have trouble finding good gifts for people, okay? You take what you can get.

“Shit, it’s already 6. I still need to go home and get ready!”

~~~~~

Nick lets you and Vanessa use their place as the spot to celebrate, it’s bigger than your place and Vanessa agrees saying it’s bigger than hers as well. Nick and his bro that believes in aliens (You really got to learn his name but at this point you are too afraid to ask) are the only ones here as you and Vanessa set up.

“Bro AI is out to get us man—” Aaanndd you are tuning him out, you watch as Nick listens closely, nodding his head every few minutes and whispering ‘Bro’. You and Vanessa hang up decorations in silence, the sound of Nick and his bro chatting away filling the room.

“People should start arriving soon…” you try to make small talk with Vanessa, she only hums in response not even sparing you a glance.

“You look nice.” You try giving her a compliment, she turns her head to the side to look at you and a sly smile grows on her face.

“Do you have feelings for Jungkook?”

You immediately choke on your fucking spit, what the actual fuck? You try to compose yourself when you hear the front door opening. Thank God.

“It is I!” You know that voice. “Where is my Jungkookie?” You hear Jin entering the living room along with Namjoon and Hobi.

“Jimin should be bringing him in the next 30 or so minutes!” you yell out. Once Jin and the other two boys spot you they light up.

“y/n!!!” Jin hurries to your side and bring you in for a quick hug. “How are you?!”

“Good, good.” You laugh, hugging him back.

“Good to see you y/n” Namjoon says with a soft smile and then you hear your named being shouted even though Hobi is a foot away from you.

“Long time no see!!!” He hugs you, shaking you around in his embrace. You can’t help but chuckle at your friend.

“Hi guys, I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Would we miss our Jungkookie’s birthday? No way.” Jin says.

“Oh,” you turn around to see Vanessa just standing behind you, not saying anything just staring. “This is Vanessa. Jungkook’s—”

“We know!” Hobi says, “Jungkook has brought her to Jin’s. Nice to see you again Vanessa!”

Vanessa tilts her head and nods, her lips not even attempting to curve into a smile.

“You too.” She finally says.

This girl either has no manners or just does not know how to properly socialize? Maybe she gets anxiety being around too many people?

You feel your phone buzz.

Yoongs 7:14pm

Im outside

“Be right back guys, a friend of mine just got here.” You try talking over your group of friends. You head towards the front door, swinging it open to a Min Yoongi waiting patiently.

He smiles at you when he sees you, he holds up a bottle of wine and shakes it around a bit.

“For the party.” He says.

“Perfect, let’s pour us a glass right now!” you gesture him to enter the apartment.

You two walk into the kitchen, and you start searching for a wine bottle opener but can’t seem to find it.

“Hey Nick!” You yell out, hoping to get his attention, “Where’s the wine opener?”

Nick shuffles into the kitchen and gives you an expression that screams he has no idea.

“I know where it’s at.” Vanessa’s silky voice fills your ears as she enters the kitchen.

“Oh.” Of course she does. Why wouldn’t Vanessa know? She probably comes here more than you do…

“Thanks.” You finally say when she hands you the wine opener.

“Well, let’s open this baby up!” you turn to face Yoongi and he smiles at you.

“Hi Vanessa.” Yoongi waves at the girl and she hums in response, walking out of the kitchen.

“Sorry, she’s…” but you don’t know what to say. Also, why are you trying to excuse her?

You pour you and Yoongi a glass and gulp it down quickly, you finish your first glass in just seconds.

“I need another one.”

“What’s got you so stressed in a time of celebration?” Yoongi casually sips on his wine, one baby sip after the other.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“y/n…” his soft tone makes you feel comforted already and he hasn’t even said anything yet.

“I don’t know how to say it without sounding psychotic.” You admit, pouring yourself your second glass of wine.

“Try me.”

“I feel like I am competing…with…”

“With Vanessa?” He gladly finishes for you.

“Yeah, like…I don’t know, I feel like she’s trying to take my place. But my place isn’t ‘girlfriend’ so I don’t know what I’m freaking out about.”

Yoongi sets his glass down and studies you for a moment, you begin to feel antsy under his gaze.

“I’m obviously on your side,” Yoongi begins in a hushed voice, “But maybe she’s worried too?”

“I wish I knew if she felt worried, or felt like, anything. This girl is hard to crack!” you quietly say.

“Just try to enjoy the night, okay?” Yoongi smiles and you don’t even feel like smiling back but you do. Suddenly, you feel your phone going off.

Jungkook 7:32pm

Why is Jimin making me dress up? I thought it was just a couple of us? Why do I need to look nice, I’m tired from work

Jungkook 7:33pm

Seriously y/n…it’s just a couple of us, right?

y/n 7:35pm

omg yes Jungkook it’s nothing big I swear, he just wants you to look nice for pictures

Jungkook 7:36pm

I always look nice for pics lol

y/n 7:38pm

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Jungkook 7:40pm

Don’t be fukin rude

` y/n 7:40pm

Can you guys hurry up?

Jungkook 7:44pm

Jimin is in the mirror deciding if he’s showing his forehead or not

y/n 7:45pm

classic Jimin

Jungkook 7:45pm

Classic Jimin

You stuff your phone in your back pocket and grab your glass of wine and begin sipping on it again. Yoongi eyes you up and smirks.

“That the birthday boy?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry…yes. He and Jimin should be here soon.” You watch as Yoongi nods his head and then you realize…”Oh my god, let me introduce you to the guys!” you set your glass down on the counter and reach for Yoongi’s hand and pull him towards the living room. Unfortunately for you, you miss the way Yoongi blushes at the contact.

“Guys, guys.” You interrupt the boys from their conversations, “This is my friend Yoongi…” you gesture towards the boy, “Yoongi, this is Jin…Namjoon, Hobi, and Nick and his pal, uh…” you blink at Alien Dude and he just grins at you, not realizing you don’t know his fucking name. “Yeah, anyway.” You decide to move on, “Jungkook and Jimin should be here soon—” Suddenly, there is soft knocking on the door. You raise a brow because who else could it be?

You walk towards the front door and look through the peep hole and much to your surprise you see Holly and Trina waiting outside the door. You’re quick to open it with a wide smile on your face.

“I thought you didn’t want to come?” You ask, your question directed towards Trina.

“I…” her eyes slide to Holly, “…Had a change of heart.” She huffs out quietly.

“You’re going to be civil?” you smirk at your friend and she rolls her eyes at you.

“She’s going to be more than civil.” Holly pipes up, “She’s going to be nice.”

“Hey we never agreed to that!” Trina crosses her arms over her chest, “But whatever.”

“Thanks for coming T.” your smirk transitions into a soft smile. This means a lot to you, that Trina is trying to accept Jungkook.

“Well? Are you going to let us in or what?”

“Right, right.” You move to the side and let the girls through. They step inside and make their way towards the boys.

“Oh? You must be Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” Trina grins towards Yoongi, who stands here chatting with Hobi.

“You’re…let me guess, Trina? And you must be Holly?” he nods at both girls, “I’ve heard a lot about you two.”

“I hope good things?” Trina teases.

“Only the best.” Yoongi raises his glass to her and she turns her head to smirk at you.

You watch as everyone gets along, talking, laughing and having a good time—all except Vanessa. She is sitting on the sofa on her phone, tapping away. She doesn’t even try to converse with any of Jungkook’s friends? Strange. You hate her, technically. But you can’t help but feel bad? Like, why does she isolate herself so much? Does she really just have some social anxiety or something? There’s got to be a reason for her odd behavior.

“Hey.” You say, sitting on the sofa next to her. “You okay?”

“Hm?” Vanessa doesn’t look up from her phone as she barely acknowledges you.

“Why don’t you come hang out with the rest of us?”

Vanessa tilts her head to get a look at you and she blinks at you repeatedly.

“Why?” she finally asks. “I’m only here for Jungkook.”

Okay, ouch.

“Oh...well—”

“You never answered my question from earlier,” Vanessas coy smile begins growing on her face. “How you feel about Jungkook.”

You feel your palms get sweaty when you process her words. How the hell do you respond to that?

“I—I…” Then the front door is opening and you hear Jimin obnoxiously announce their arrival, that he has the birthday boy.

You immediately jump to your feet and rush towards the entrance of the apartment to greet your friends.

“Too bad you can’t admit it, “ Vanessa whispers, her eyes going back to her phone, “I could help you too.”

“JUNGKOOKIE!!!” Jin opens his arms wide, “Come and embrace me! It’s your birthday gift.” Jungkook stumbles in the apartment with wide eyes as he searches the living room. His eyes find yours and he smiles. He shows you his bunny grin and you can’t help but smile back. He looks breathtaking, Jimin didn’t play around picking Jungkook’s outfit. Ripped black jeans, chunky boots, a plaid shirt with a leather jacket—he looks hot as hell. Vanessa is a lucky girl, you think bitterly to yourself.

Jungkook greets his friends one by one until he sees Yoongi walk from the kitchen into the living room. Yoongi has refilled his wine glass and stops just in front of Jungkook and bows his head in greeting. You rush to the two boys, joining them in this awkward encounter.

“Oh, I invited Yoongi.” You begin to explain, “You remember Yoongi, right?” you ask Jungkook.

“Of course…” Jungkook tries smiling but it’s tense and strained. At this, Yoongi smirks.

Yoongi steps closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder and he smiles at Jungkook.

“I’m y/n’s plus one tonight—or I guess her…date?”

“D-Date?” You and Jungkook both stutter out.

Yoongi brings you in closer, nice and snug against his shoulder as he chuckles.

“Something like that.”

Jungkook tries releasing a breath but finds it to be troublesome. He looks at you with an expression you cannot really decipher, but he doesn’t look all too pleased.

“That’s nice.” He finally says, scratching the back of his neck.

“What’s nice?” It’s a smooth and silky voice. Vanessa. “Happy birthday babe.” She joins your circle next to Jungkook and places a kiss on his cheek.

“Right…” you butt in, “Happy birthday Jungkook.” You smile, still in Yoongi’s arms.

“What do you want to do first?” Vanessa links arms with Jungkook and you feel your body go tense. You don’t want her to touch him.

“Eat.” Jungkook laughs, “I’m so hungry.”

“Well, we have pizza for everyone.” You say loudly, getting the rest of everyone’s attention.

“You say pizza? Hell yeah.” Trina walks towards you four with Holly following behind her.

“Oh hey Trina…” Jungkook says, not entirely too sure how to talk to the girl that hates him.

“Hey Jungkook,” she says quickly with a smile, “So where’s the pizza?”

Jungkook and you share a look of pleasant surprise. Trina? Being nice?

The rest of the boys follow and you all head inside the kitchen to snag a few slices of pizza from the pizzeria that Jungkook is fond of. Vanessa stays close to Jungkook’s side, not that you are surprised. But what is surprising you is that Yoongi has suddenly become slightly more affectionate with you?

Yoongi takes any chance he can get to touch you in some way, whether it be picking a piece of thread off your shirt, or placing a wild strand of hair behind your ear. He doesn’t really strike you as the type to be so openly affectionate…at least not the one to initiate it.

But can picking a piece of thread off your shirt really be counted as affectionate? Maybe he’s just trying to help. What you don’t know though…Jungkook has picked up on too. He has watched as Yoongi smiles at you and you smile back, he has watched as Yoongi subtlety touches your arm when he talks to you and how your hand finds his shoulder when you laugh.

Jungkook sits on his couch, chowing down on a slice of pizza as he glares at you and Yoongi. He doesn’t mean to glare but why is he here? This is a small get together between close friends. How close have you and Yoongi gotten?

“And then bro, I was like no fucking way bro.” Alien bro talks animatedly, his hands motioning all around the place.

Nick stuffs another slice of pizza in his mouth, nodding along to Alien bro’s story.

“That is fucking wild.” You hear Trina pitch in, “Like, did that really happen to you?”

“It may have been a dream, but let me tell you…” Alien bro closes his eyes, “I think it was real, like a memory.”

You internally laugh, because this dude has got some wild fucking stories and you don’t know how to take him seriously. But everyone seems to be enjoying it.

“Let’s do cake!” You hear Jimin yell out, “I have such a sweet tooth right now.”

At this you see Vanessa actually light up, like she has been waiting all night for someone to mention the cake. You two agreed she could present it to Jungkook, maybe that’s why she’s so visibly excited.

“I’ll go get it…” She speaks up, “I’ll be right back.” She says, facing Jungkook. Vanessa stands from her spot next to Jungkook on the couch and heads towards the kitchen.

A few minutes pass by when you hear your name being called. You get up and walk to the kitchen when you see Vanessa with the cake in her hands, the candles already lit up.

“Can you turn off the lights?” she asks, “And you can start the Birthday song.”

You nod your head, walking back into the living room to switch the lights off.

“Okay, ready Jungkook?” you smile at him and he rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“I guess.” He says, amusement laced in his voice.

“Happy birthday to you!” you begin singing, the rest of the gang joins in and the living room is soon being filled with the sound of everyone’s voices singing Jungkook a happy birthday. You pull out your phone and begin recording, Vanessa walks in with the cake and she keeps her face neutral. She doesn’t even sing, wow. You can’t help but kind of laugh, that’s so in character for her.

“Happy birthday dear Juuuungkoook, Happy birthday to you!” You all finish up and start whooping and hollering.

“Make a wish.” Vanessa sets the cake down in front of him and Jungkook nods his head. He takes a deep breath before his eyes find yours. You guys share a brief moment before he’s blowing out his candles.

“What did you wish for?!” Hobi asks, excitement filling the room as everyone agrees that they want to know.

“Secret.” He says, still looking at you.

“Here,” Vanessa nudges a perfectly wrapped box in Jungkook’s hands, “Present.”

“You didn’t have to Vanessa.” Jungkook grins at her but he’s already unwrapping his gift, he throws the wrapping paper to the floor and takes a look at the cologne box.

“This is so expensive!” he whines, “But thank you!” He looks at you for a moment when he awkwardly pecks Vanessas lips in front of everyone.

“My turn!” Jimin shouts, “My turn, my turn!” he stands up and walks by the front door where he left the gift. He picks up the bag and walks back into the living room, standing in front of Jungkook, handing him the bag.

“You’ll love it.” Jimin wiggles his brows at the boy.

Jungkook wiggles his brows back as he opens up the bag and pulls out a black hoodie.

“Fuck yeah.” Jungkook stands up to hug Jimin, “This one is so soft.”

The rest of the gang gives Jungkook a gift one by one until all eyes are on you. Suddenly, you feel super fucking shy and lame that you got matching bracelets.

“Uh, I haven’t gotten anything for you yet…” you lie. “But I will soon, promise.”

Jungkook’s bunny smile begins to fade as he processes your words,

“No worries, y/n.” he smiles again, “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s just a little late, is all.” You shift awkwardly from one foot to another. You wish you weren’t such an idiot. You notice Jimin staring at you from across the room, he looks disappointed.

“What about the bracelets y/n?” Vanessa’s voice can be heard by everyone. She looks at you with a blank expression and you never wanted to strangle someone more.

“What bracelets?” Jungkook’s curiosity showing.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. They’re friendship bracelets. Such a sweet idea.” Vanessa smiles at you.

“You got me and you friendship bracelets?” Jungkook stands up and walks to you, he extends his right hand out and waits expectantly.

“Thanks Vanessa.” You deadpan.

“No problem.”

“It’s really nothing Jungkook…”

“I want the damn bracelet y/n.”

You stare at him for a moment, his big doe eyes making you feel like you must give in.

“okay, they’re in my bag…” you turn around and search for your purse. You notice Yoongi trying to hand it you and you smile at him gratefully.

“Here.” You hand him his bracelet and he inspects it, rolling it through his fingers.

“Your initial?” Jungkook clenches the bracelet in his fist and looks up at you.

“I fucking love it.” He brings the bracelet to his heart, “I will wear it every day.”

“I have one too…” you pull it from your bag and dangle in around.

“It has a J?” Jungkook bunny smile grows ten times as wide. He takes the bracelet from your fingers and chuckles at the two bracelets.

“I love it.”

“I’m glad you like it—”

“No, love it. I love…” Then he’s clearing his throat, remembering he is in a room full of people.

“Thank you.”

“Oh! There’s one more thing…” you pull out the key chain and you watch as Jungkook’s face lights up. Of course he is more excited about the key chain, you laugh.

“Fucking awesome!” Jungkook takes it from you, “I’ll put it on my keys!”

“That’s the idea,” you chuckle. “Anyway, let’s play games now.”

You and Jungkook stand at the front of the living room, in front of the T.V in battle mode.

“You’re going down Jeon.” You snicker at him, he only rolls his eyes at you as he readies himself.

“I’m just glad I’m not going against Jimin.” Jungkook shoots Jimin a look and Jimin winks.

You two have to chug an entire beer can, trying to beat the other.

“Honestly, same.” You admit, if anyone can down a drink in seconds—it’s Jimin.

Trina stands up and joins your side,

“Okay, are we ready everyone?”

Everyone begins cheering, the sound motivating you and making you feel excited.

“Okay. When I yell…BAM…you start drinking and don’t stop until that can is empty…got it?”

“Yes, we know how to chug a drink, Trina.”

“Damn girl, I was just sayin’.” Trina throws a hand on her hip, “Okay, 3…2…1…BAM!”

You and Jungkook scramble to start drinking, the chilly liquid making its way down your throats. The drink is cold and carbonated and you’re trying to ignore the way it sizzles, instead pretending it’s as smooth as water and you down it back.

“Jungkook is going to win!” Namjoon yells out, he has risen to his feet, the excitement too much.

“No, y/n is! Look how much her head it tilting back!” You hear Jin chime in.

Truth is, you aren’t really sure how much you’ve drank, or how much is left! You’re just wanting it to be over!

“Holy shit, they’re both so close!”

“Broooooooo”

And right as you’re about to finish your drink you hear the sound of a can being crushed right next to you. He won.

“WHAT’S UP…LOSER!” Jungkook shakes his empty, crushed can in your face as you finally finish your own drink.

“Okay, okay. Literally only let you win because it’s your birthday.” You snide playfully.

“Sure y/n, sure.” Jungkook grins down at you, his laughter bounces off the walls and you feel so whole when you hear the sound. He leans forward until his arms are wrapped around you in a quick yet loving hug.

“Whatever you got to say to yourself…loser.” He chuckles out, letting go of you.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Your pout is so cute, Jungkook thinks.

Yoongi stands up, his gummy smile lighting up the room as he approaches you two. He stands next to you and asks if you’re alright.

“You’ve already had so much to drink, I’m just making sure you can make it back to the sofa.” Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he laughs.

“She can handle herself.” You hear Jungkook say in a somewhat serious tone, “She knows how to drink.” He tries to say a little more lightly.

“But she doesn’t really have to do the penalty, right?” Yoongi asks.

“No, I definitely do.” You laugh out, “Where’s the shot, huh?”

Jungkook gives you a silly looking smirk as he heads towards the kitchen to fetch you that shot. He’s only gone for a moment when you realize he has returned with the liquid of fire.

“For you, princess.”

You roll your eyes at his little nick name he’s given you but you cannot help the blush that creeps on your cheeks…

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

The little nick name causing you to remember something you have tied burying.

“I think you should take one too, since it is your birthday after all.” You tease.

“But I’m the winner…” Jungkook pouts, his bottom lip jutting out so far.

“Come on, I bet you won’t.” Jimin pipes in.

“Yeah dude.” You hear Nick say.

“FINE!” Jungkook throws his hands up in defeat, “But you have to go pour it for me.” He says, looking at you.

“Done deal, baby.”

“Pour me one too.” Vanessa walks up to you, her strap on her shoulder sliding down.

“Oh?” you ask, but you nod your head in approval and head towards the kitchen to pour two more shots.

You return with the shots, but feel your stomach drop when you see Jungkook and Vanessa laughing together, her hand laying on his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“Oh!” Jungkook looks at you and smiles, “The shots!”

“Yeah…”

And then Min Yoongi is at your side with his own shot, he looks at you and gives you a sweet smile and eyes full of understanding.

“Let’s take them.” He says. His hand going to yours, he squeezes it tight and you feel yourself trying to breathe.

“Here you go.” You hand the two shots to Jungkook and Vanessa, they take them and you four look at one another before raising your glasses.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook.” You whisper, taking the shot.

Hours pass, and things are starting to wind down, you think. Jin, Namjoon and Hobi are at the front door saying their goodbyes and you feel your time is coming soon too.

“Us too.” Trina says, “Our uber is almost here.” Her and Holly gather their things and make their way out the door.

“Jimin, you coming with us?” Trina asks.

“Um, what about you y/n?” Jimin makes it to your side, his hand going to rub your shoulder.

“You guys go without me, I’m going to help clean up. Hostess duties!” You salute towards your friends and they giggle.

“Okay babe, I’ll see you soon?” Jimin goes in for a tight hug and you hug him back even tighter.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll help you clean up.” Yoongi offers, but you shake your head.

“No, I couldn’t ask that. Me and Vanessa got it. You go home too, it’s so late. I will come by to see you soon though.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks as he catches Jungkook watching you two. “Well, if you insist y/n.” he inches towards you and to your surprise, you feel his lips leave a small kiss on your cheek. Yoongi smirks when he sees Jungkook react. Jungkook glares at the boy and Yoongi feels like hopefully he helped enough tonight.

“What was that for?” you feel yourself turn red.

“Nothing.” He whispers before he’s turning around and walking out of the door.

You are left here shocked and confused but you cannot help but smile at Yoongi’s small gesture. He really is too sweet.

“Well,” you turn around to face Jungkook and Vanessa, “Let’s clean up,” you say to Vanessa, “And then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Actually,” Vanessa curls her lips upwards, “I am feeling quite tired.” Her eyes find yours, “So maybe Jungkook can help you clean up.”

“You’re going home already?” Jungkook looks confused. He was probably expecting birthday sex or some shit.

“Mhm.” She breathes out easily, “See you later babe.” She leans over and pecks his cheek, you immediately twist your head to look away. Vanessa notices and she fucking smiles that sly ass smile. “See you later, y/n.”

And with that she is out of the apartment, leaving just you and Jungkook and Nick and Alien Bro.

“We will be out on the balcony smoking, if you guys want to join.” Nick offers to you, but you’re shaking your head no.

“Nah, you guys enjoy.” Jungkook says. Nick and Alien bro (You really got to learn this dudes name) are opening the back door and leaving you guys for the balcony.

“And then there was two.” Jungkook jokes, he chews on his lips as he watches you begin the cleaning up process. You get a large black trash bag and start throwing away the empty beer bottles and other trash around the living room and kitchen.

“Help me clean, birthday boy.”

Jungkook grins at you and starts helping, he’s gathering the shot glasses and setting them in the kitchen sink. You two work like this for around 10-15 minutes when the place is finally looking like his apartment again.

“Well, I guess that’s it.” You set the last trash bag in the kitchen, “You and Nick can take these out later, right?” “Yes, y/n. You did enough, I swear.” Jungkook smiles at you. “Hey, where’s your bracelet?” he dangles his wrist around, showing you his.

“Oh…” You dig around in your pockets until you finally find the piece of jewelry.

“Let me.” Jungkook stands closer to you, reaching his hand out, expecting you to hand over the bracelet. You place it in his hand and he grabs your wrist and clips the bracelet on.

“There.” He breathes out, “Never take it off.” He half jokes.

“You really like it?”

“I really love it.” Jungkook pulls you in for a hug, but he’s letting go much faster than you would like.

“Wanna chill for a bit?” He asks you, his hands still on your arms from your hug that you just shared.

“For a bit, sure.”

You two walk to the living room sofa and plop down, the long day finally catching up to you. It’s around 1 am now, you’ve been running around all day.

“So…” Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, “What’s going on with you and this Yoongi guy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was tonight like, a date for you two?”

“What? No?”

“Really? Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.”

“He was just joking…I think.” You groan into your hands, and laugh. “Why?”

“I was just wondering.” He turns to face forward, his face hardening as he thinks. “Is he going to be like, your boyfriend?”

“What?!” you choke on your spit, “Yoongi is my friend.”

“Does he know that?” Jungkook continues to look forward, “He was all over you.”

“He definitely was not all over me. Oh my god. What are you getting so crazy for?”

Crazy. That’s the word you use, but he knows you mean jealous. Jungkook sits here, biting on his bottom lip. He has to admit, he doesn’t like this ‘crazy’ feeling. He feels like he’s suffocating just remembering you with Yoongi tonight. He has no right to feel crazy or jealous. He has a girlfriend for fucks sake!

“I just hope he’s treating you right.”

“He’s just a friend Jungkook. But you know what? And if he was trying to date me?”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten, not liking the idea already.

“Then like I said, I hope he’s treating you right.” He says more softly, turning to look at you again.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?”

“It was nice, thank you.”

“What’s your favorite birthday in your life so far?”

Jungkook tilts his head as he thinks, rocking it side to side. He folds his arms behind his head and lets out a long breath.

“There’s two I can think of.” He says, “When I was 10 all I wanted to do was see one of those drive thru zoo things. But I wasn’t expecting much because I guess birthdays and holidays were stressful for my parents…” he takes a deep breath, “they always fought so much and so I didn’t think we would be doing anything for my birthday at all. But they for once, they got along this day. They took me to the zoo and I just remember being so on edge like something may go wrong…but it never did, it was a perfect day.”

“I bet 10 year old Jungkook was so cute.”

“I was the cutest!”

“And what’s the second?”

“Sophomore year of college.” He states quickly making you choke on air. Really? That birthday of all birthdays?

“Jungkook, there has to be a better one than that…” you begin, “We literally didn’t even do anything.”

It seemed everyone happened to become busy the day of Jungkook’s birthday, everyone except you. You and Jungkook spent the day just the two of you in his dorm room watching movies and playing video games. You didn’t even buy him a present, much too broke!

“That day meant a lot to me.” Jungkook explains, “You didn’t leave my side, no matter what.”

“Well, you were my best friend.”

“And now?” Jungkook turns his head to face you, “Am I your best friend now?”

“Jungkook…” you caress his thigh, “Of course.”

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles that bunny smile and you can’t help but giggle.

“Were you worried?”

“So worried.” He continues to laugh, “You’re my best friend too.”

~~~~~

October

“I don’t know guys!” you whine, bringing the cup of coffee in for a sip. “Marketing…can someone even be passionate about that?”

“What did I say y/n? You’re so concerned if you’re passionate or not, why don’t you start off small—finding something you just like.” Yoongi offers his piece of advice but you groan.

“What do you think Tae?” you point your head in his direction, “Wait, I am asking one of the most passionate people I know.” You complain.

“I agree with Yoongi, y/n.” Taehyung says, he drinks his water in gulps.

“Of course, who wouldn’t agree with Yoongi?” You hit your head on the table a few times.

You three are seated in Yoongi’s record shop in the cozy corner of the store, discussing the burden of dreams.

“I mean, guys.” You begin, “I don’t want to be making cookies forever.”

“But I really like them.” Yoongi whispers.

“Me too,” Taehyung says as he shoves a sugar cookie down his throat. “So good.”

“Guys, you aren’t helping.”

“Honestly y/n…” Yoongi stands from his seat to get some more coffee, “Stop trying to force a dream to happen. It will come to you naturally, just trust in that.”

“You make it sound so easy.” You hand Taehyung another cookie and he takes it with a grin.

“So y/n…” Taehyung swallows down the last bits of the cookie before he’s turning to face you in his chair, “How was Jungkook’s birthday, I forgot to ask.”

“It went really well actually.”

“Why do you say ‘actually’?” Taehyung laughs, “Were you expecting it to go bad?”

“It’s not that…I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Is it because of Vanessa?” Yoongi comes back with two fresh coffees.

“Maybe.”

“That’s his girlfriend, right? I just don’t get it. Should we come up with an evil plan to break them up?” Taehyung snickers.

“Tae, chill.” You giggle.

“I’m joking but I am also totally serious.” He comments. “Anyway guys, I gotta head back to the museum. But same time next week?”

“You know it.” You blow on your hot coffee, waving him goodbye.

The last few weeks the three of you meet up for coffee (Tae usually brings his own drink of choice, says coffee is too bitter for him) and chit chat just like now. It’s an interesting group but you feel comfortable. After time has passed, forgiving and moving on from Taehyung’s crushing you has gotten easier and now you even find his friendship to be quite valuable. You guess they weren’t kidding when they say time heals all wounds.

“Are you two ever going to tell me what happened between you? You were so tense when he first started hanging out.” Yoongi says, observant as usual.

“I will. But another day,” you smile.

“No rush.” Yoongi drinks his coffee slowly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“By the way, did it work?” Yoongi asks between sips.

You can’t help but raise your brows in question,

“Did what work?”

“Did Jungkook say anything? About being jealous?” He gives you a smirk.

“What are you talk—wait, were you purposely trying to be affectionate with me to see if Jungkook would get a rise out of it?” You ask, completely shocked. That seems almost out of character for Yoongi!

“I tried. I’m a little awkward being the first to show affection, “ he admits, “But for you, my friend, I was willing to try.” He gives you a shy smile and you feel your heart race.

“Yoongi—”

“You really don’t even have to answer because I know the truth. I could see it on his face, but I was curious if he said anything to you.”

You think back to Jungkook’s birthday and well…he technically did say something to you. He was being a little crazy (jealous) but you cannot understand why. Jungkook is your friend and not to mention he has a girlfriend.

“Sorry to disappoint Yoongs, but he did not.” You decide to say.

“Did you know you avoid all eye contact when you want to lie.” Yoongi takes another sip of his coffee, his sly smile telling you he knows the truth.

“Jeez, why do you pick up on things so quickly?!” you groan, “I can’t even tell one little nothing lie in front of you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try to lie to me then.” He laughs. “So what did he say?”

“He just—I don’t know. He just…wanted to know what was up with you basically.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to say ‘Ah’ and then continues to drink his coffee.

“He’s not going to be rude to you or anything!” you quickly say, “he’s just a little protective over me, is all.”

“Oh? That’s all?” Yoongi teases.

“Hey…” you set your cup down and fold your hands in your lap, “What makes you think Jungkook feels the same way?”

Yoongi breathes out slowly, his fingers tapping against his mug when he looks up at you and smiles.

“There’s an obvious tension between you two, “ he starts, “The way he looks at you. That honestly gave everything away. His eyes always find you, no matter what.” Yoongi quietly chuckles, “The way he’s threatened by me. He doesn’t even try to hide it.” Yoongi thinks for a moment, “And…you two, the way you are together…god, it’s like watching two people who are in a relationship but don’t know they’re in a relationship.”

“What—what do you mean by that?” you pry further. Curious about your own dynamic with Jungkook that maybe even you can’t see.

“I don’t know like, you guys act like boyfriend and girlfriend already!” he laughs, “That’s when I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s okay,” his gummy smile lights up his whole face, “being your friend has been so much more rewarding.”

You feel yourself smile at his words…although, you do feel bad. But keeping a friend like Yoongi around has been amazing. And maybe if you weren’t already in love with someone else…no, you shouldn’t even think that, that’s not fair.

“Thanks Yoongs.”

~~~~~~

“We need to talk.”

Jimin is shoving his way through Jungkook’s front door, his hair pushed back in frustration like his fingers have been running through it for hours.

“Jesus man, it’s like 8 in the fucking morning.” Jungkook’s low, groggy voice booms from his chest.

“This couldn’t wait. I have to be at work at 9 and I’ve been up all night with the same one thing on my mind.” Jimin takes off his shoes and makes his way to the couch.

“And what’s that?” Jungkook asks, clearly annoyed.

“You need to tell y/n how you feel.” Jimin decides to go with the straight forward approach, he does not have the time to beat around the bush today.

Jungkook closes the door and swings around to face Jimin,

“Huh?”

“Listen man, I’ve been racking my brain about it all fucking night. It’s got to be you. You have to do it, she won’t.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Grow the fucking balls, man!” Jimin sits back on the sofa, his head falling into the cushion.

“Look dude, I don’t know what you—”

“You’re in love with her, you have been since freshmen year. You guys fucked, I know. She didn’t talk to you for however long, I know that too. But come on man, it’s so clear how you both feel.”

Jungkook continues to stand here, not knowing what to say. Where is all this coming from?

“I have a girlfriend, Jimin.”

“Oh please, give me a fucking break.” Jimin stands up, walking towards Jungkook. “There is almost zero chemistry between you two. Like emotional chemistry…I don’t know what your sex life is like…” Jimin holds up a hand, “And I don’t want to know.”

“Wasn’t going to tell you anyway,” Jungkook pouts. “Listen, how can you be so sure y/n would even feel the same way?”

“Can’t you just fucking trust me?” Jimin yells out, exasperated.

“Did she say the words Jimin?” Jungkook becomes very serious, making Jimin shudder. “Did she tell you she has feelings for me?” his dark eyes pierce into Jimin’s.

Jimin looks down at the ground, feeling defeated.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Jimin finally says, “You just have to have the courage man. Are you really going to go your whole life not telling her? Why torture yourself like that?”

Jungkook stands here feeling so lost, and fucking emotional. Like, he could god damn cry about it.

“Because,” Jungkook sniffles into his sleeve. “It’s guaranteed she would be in my life. I can’t risk losing her. I couldn’t handle that man…” Jungkook begins to choke up.

Jimin walks closer to Jungkook and pulls him in for a tight hug, Jungkook keeps his arms to his side.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jimin whispers.

“I think though…that there will be a moment where you finally have the courage…”

“I don’t know.”

“You will, Jungkook. When the timing is right…but I don’t know when that is for you two.”

“I really do love her…” Jungkook allows a few tears to slip from his closed eyes into Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m so frustrated like, all the time.” He admits, “Seeing her, talking to her, I just want to tell her how I feel. I hate how hard I have to try just to stay in the zone of friendship. But you don’t understand the risk…” Jungkook leans back, pulling away from Jimin. “If she doesn’t feel the same, I could lose her.” His puffy eyes avoid Jimin. “Can I handle a loss like that again?”

“But she…” Jimin has to bite his tongue…seeing his two best friends like this hurts his heart beyond belief.

“Yeah, I understand.” Jimin decides to say, “But I think you might be surprised.”

Jungkook pulls his brows together, his face scrunching up and he scoffs.

“Maybe, but maybe not.”

“I’m sorry to bring this all on you so early in the morning…I’ve just been so worried about you two…” Jimin starts to put his shoes back on.

“Maybe you could stay until you really need to leave for work? You still go like 45 minutes, right?” Jungkook practically begs with sad, soft eyes.

“Sure.” Jimin takes his shoes back off and grabs a hold of Jungkook’s shoulder, “Let’s sit down for a while.”

The two boys head to the couch and take a seat, leaving little space between them. Jungkook needs the presence of another human being right now, he needs to feel real live warmth. Jimin wishes he could mend Jungkook’s cracked heart but he knows only you can do that. But Jimin can try his best. The two sit in comfortable silence, the only sound that can be heard is Jungkook’s light sniffling and Jimin humming a soft tune.

“It’s almost 9.” Jimin mentions regretfully.

“I know. Thanks for staying for a bit.”

“Of course.” Jimin rises from the couch, “You guys are my best friends but you two sure are fucking idiots.” He smiles and makes his way to leave.

~~~~~~

Bored. So fucking bored. Trina and Holly went out for dinner tonight and you were not invited! You kind of wonder what’s going on between them…but that’s a thought for another day, right now you are so fucking bored.

It’s Friday night and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Jimin has some party he’s going to tonight but you didn’t really feel like going so you rejected his invitation, Jin and the guy’s invited you over for a cookout but you said no because you didn’t feel like driving all the way to Jin’s place—you know, lazy.

And you haven’t heard from Jungkook all day so he’s probably tired from work or worse—with Vanessa. But would it hurt to try? To see what he’s up to?

y/n 9:04pm

Jungkook 9:10pm

y/n 9:12pm

Whatcha up to tonight?

Jungkook 9:13pm

Nothing really, you?

y/n 9:13pm

nothing either…

y/n 9:13pm

Wanna have a movie night with some wine?

Jungkook 9:20pm

Sure:)

Jungkook 9:23pm

Lemme guess, I have to bring the wine

y/n 9:23pm

Bingo!

Jungkook 9:50pm

I’m almost there

Not even 5 minutes later you hear your door being knocked on, and you yell a ‘come in’. Jungkook pushes the door open and finds you sitting on the couch wrapped up in your favorite blanket. He shuts the door behind him, and walks to the kitchen for some wine glasses. You two only nod at one another in greeting, getting comfortable in each others presence.

“I brought 2 bottles,” Jungkook says, “One for you, one for me.”

“Wow, you’re so smart.” You smile up at him and his heart clenches in his chest. Your smile is so special, it’s so soft and so fucking pretty he almost cannot handle it.

“Y-Yeah.” He sets the glasses down on the table that sits in front of the sofa. “What movie do you have in mind?”

“You can choose.”

“Iron Man?” “No, not that.”

“Fine.” He pouts, “Let’s find something new on Netflix.”

An hour into some random drama, you find yourself getting sleepy.

“Wakey wakey.” You feel Jungkook’s breath on your ear, you open your eyes a little wider to prove your consciousness.

“I am awake…hey,” you suddenly get an idea, “Remember a little while ago you said you felt like our friendship kind of started over?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

“Would if we do?”

“I don’t get it?” Jungkook asks clearly confused.

“Let’s play a game! Of getting to know each other better. Everything out on the table.” You say with a pleased smile, obviously loving your own idea.

“hmmmmm…” Jungkook wraps his blanket closer around his body, “Sure.”

“Yay! I’ll pull out a list of questions from the internet.” You get your phone and google a list of questions. “You ready?” you say with a wink.

“I guess so.” He playfully shrugs his shoulders and shows you a small smile.

“Okay one…What’s your favorite way to spend a day off?”

“hmm…sleeping in, working out, playing video games, making videos, sleeping some more, hanging out with you.”

“Wow, honored.” You tease. “For me, it’s sleeping all day.”

“That’s it? That’s your whole answer?” Jungkook giggles.

“What type of music are into to?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You already know these answers…”

“We’re pretending we don’t!”

“Fine, I like almost all genres but I really prefer ballads.”

“I like music with meaningful lyrics,” you say.

“I agree.” Jungkook grins at you.

“Next…Do you have a favorite holiday. Why or why not?”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips as he thinks…is he honest?

“I use to hate holidays.” He admits softly, slightly slurring thanks to the wine, “But now it’s Christmas and New Year’s. And why? Both reasons are because of you.”

You feel your cheeks become warmer and probably pinker.

“Mine too.” You say quickly, “Next,” you are in a rush to change the subject. “Do you want a family of your own?”

“One day, yes. With the right person…”

“I’m the same.” You scroll through the questions, “If you had only one sense…hearing, touch, sight, etc, which would you want?”

“Touch. Imagine not being able to feel things?” Jungkook asks, he thinks about not being able to feel the soft touch of sheets on a bed, the feel of your hair between his fingers, your skin, your lips—wait, he needs to chill. “Yeah, touch.”

“Really? I would choose sight.” You say, “Who do you admire most in this world?”

“Mom.” Jungkook whispers, “She was so strong, she went through so much yet still found the strength to love me.”

“You.” Your hand finds Jungkook’s, you hold on to him softly, “My answer is you.”

“y/n…” Jungkook leans into your side, “Thank you.”

You clear you throat and continue scrolling through your phone, looking for the next question.

“If you found out today is your last day on Earth, what would you do?”

“Exactly what I’m doing right now.”

“Honestly? Me too.” You whisper, you feel your heart beginning to race as you and Jungkook admit that if it were your last day, you would spend it together. Somehow the thought almost seems romantic to you…that’s obviously your imagination but you can dream.

“What’s the last thing you do at night?”

Jungkook wiggles his brows at you and you hit his arm, laughing.

“Gross.” You giggle. “Something besides that.”

“What? You think it’s gross to mast—”

“Don’t!” you yell out laughing. “Don’t be gross.”

“Everyone does it y/n…I bet even you.” Jungkook voice goes low. “in fact, I have a question for you.” Jungkook scoots closer to you, “When was the last time you got yourself off?” your eyes go wide, “It’s not like you’re seeing anyone…unless you and Yoon—”

“No!” You begin to panic, “I’m not seeing anyone, you’re right.”

Jungkook releases a long breath and he smiles, “Thought so.” Then he’s scooting even closer to you.

“How do you touch yourself y/n?” He slurs out, “With your fingers only? Perhaps you use a vibrator?”

You push your head back in shock, there’s no way in hell Jungkook just asked you that? Is he drunk? Barely.

“Why do you want to know that?” you scoot a little closer to him too.

“Best friends know this type of stuff about each other all the time, don’t they?”

“Not really…but I’ll play. I use both.”

Jungkook raises a brow in amusement, he bites on his bottom lip as his smirks at you.

“You own a vibrator?” Jungkook chuckles darkly, “How come I didn’t know?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

“I bet Jimin knows.”

“Fine, he does.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you as he tries to hold in his slight laughter, his hand comes to his mouth and he chuckles into it.

“Thought so…when’s the last time you used it?”

“Last night before bed.”

“So, it’s the last thing you did at night?” Jungkook points his finger at you knowingly and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, I see where this is going. Fine, I get. We all masturbate. It’s completely normal and not gross and a totally valid answer for something you do before bed.” You throw your hands up as you giggle.

“Thank you.” Jungkook knees touch yours as he scoots just an inch closer, “But I wasn’t trying to make a point, I was genuinely curious about you.” He admits in a deep voice and you squeeze your thighs together, an action that does not go unnoticed by him. His eyes land to your lap and he chuckles. His voice is so low and inviting as he speaks, “Are you curious about me too?”

“What do you mean?”

“About when’s the last time I—”

“Fine, when’s the last time?” you ask lightly.

“Right before I came here.” He admits easily.

“Interesting.”

You and Jungkook stare at one another for what feels like at least an hour but in reality probably seconds. But his dark gaze is so raw and powerful, you find yourself leaning into his space.

“The last time I used my vibrator was yes, last night. But the last time I touched myself was tonight. Before you arrived.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding, or maybe it’s approval? Either way he nods his head as a sly smile creeps on his lips.

“Can I ask you what you thought about?” Even Jungkook widens his eyes in surprise as he asks that. Where did that confidence come from? “Sorry that’s TMI.” He quickly rushes to say, not wanting to really hear your answer because he shouldn’t know what you fantasize about especially if he’s not in said fantasies.

You lean your head back and snicker. You wish you had the fucking courage to tell him the truth. Him. You thought about him.

In your fantasy his head was between your legs, licking you up and making you squirm. He would moan into your greedy cunt, basking in your juices. God, you can just picture it now. His mouth and nose covered in you, the shine on his face evidence of how well he’s eaten you. His fingers still buried inside you as he lifts his head up to smirk down at you, his hair a fucking mess from how much you have tugged on it.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about it right now and getting so heavily turned on. Your chest heaves just a little more than usual, and there’s an ache between your legs that you wish Jungkook would soothe. Your fantasy of him going down on you? You took that straight from your memories.

“Not going to say anything?” Jungkook leans in a little closer.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About…?”

“You.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand as he processes what you just say until—

“Wait, wait. That came out wrong.” Your hands scramble to hold on to his shoulders. “I mean, I was thinking about you. But not like that.” You lie. Because you have to lie.

“Oh…right, that makes sense.” Jungkook visibly deflates at your confession.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s a TMI for sure.” You laugh awkwardly and Jungkook leans back away from you.

“For sure.” Jungkook leans back on the sofa, “So, what’s the next question?”

“Ever had a threesome?” you ask from your own brain.

“You already know I have.”

“With two girls or with another guy…?”

“Two girls.”

“Would you ever with another guy?”

“Maybe if it’s with a girl that doesn’t mean something to me…but if it’s with someone I care about, probably not. I think I may be too possessive. Don’t wanna share.”

“Ah, I see.”

“What about you?”

“I would do both.” You admit. “Sounds like fun…”

“It is fun,” Jungkook laughs, “But there’s something special about just being with one person, if it’s special…”

“Have you ever had sex with someone special?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Jungkook’s never been in a serious relationship since you’ve known him so you weren’t expecting him to answer that with a yes…but he is with Vanessa now. So obviously…

“I see.”

“What’s the next question?”

“I’m looking up a new list. It’s kind of sexy, is that okay?”

“A list of dirty questions? I’m down.” Jungkook smirks and you feel the heat between your legs grow.

“Okay the first one is asking if you’re a virgin and I think the whole town knows the answer to that…”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You laugh out, “Nothing, nothing.” Then continue scrolling, “Okay, opinion on shower sex?”

“Hmm, I’ve done, and I will do it again.”

“For me, it’s a little uncomfortable but I’ll do it,” you say, “boob or butt guy?”

“Fuck. Both of them, can I say both?” Jungkook pleads and you giggle.

“Sure, both.” Your eyes light up when you find the next question. “Oooh. What is your most embarrassing sex story?”

“Oh god…okay. When I was in high school I was getting head from this girl…”

“Uh huh…and then?”

“We got caught by our teacher and that’s a total mood killer right?”

“Right?”

“Well, when the teacher was scolding me I popped another boner. And I was wearing sweats so it was super obvious and she was trying so hard not to make it obvious. But I don’t know, my body betrayed me.”

“You got hard from getting scolded?”

“Apparently.”

You burst out into giggles, the story absolutely killing you. Who does that? Who pops a boner from getting scolded…by their fucking teacher?

“Your turn, your turn.”

“Okay…one time I was giving head…”

“Uh huh…and then?” he copies you.

“And I guess I swallowed his cum too fast because it shot out of my nose like milk.”

“What the fuck y/n.” Jungkook laughs out hysterically. “That’s so awesome.”

“It wasn’t awesome Jungkook, it was embarrassing.”

“Perspective.”

“In what world is someone’s perspective on this awesome?” “Mine.”

“Well, you’re fucking weird.

“Maybe so.” Jungkook continues to laugh, “What’s next?”

“Do you prefer to give or receive?”

“Who doesn’t love to receive? That’s obvious. But me? I am a giver, 100%”

And he’s right. Hence why you’re able to use the memory of him going down on you as good masturbation material.

“I see.”

“I think I am a giver too.” You look down at your phone, “But who doesn’t love to receive?”

“You do give nicely.” Jungkook whispers, “Anyway what’s the next one?”

“Do you like sexting?”

“Fucking love it. I love the dirty words and pictures.” He admits.

“Yeah, me too.”

What would it be like to be texting Jungkook throughout the work day, sending one another your dirtiest fantasies and pictures to go along with it.

“I’ll read the next one now…If I came home from work stressed, how you do you relax me?” your eyes go wide when you realize, “Wait, pretends it’s asking about someone else. So a girl you’re with comes home from work stressed, how do you relax her?”

Jungkook is quiet for a few moments, he chews on his bottom lip and breathes out heavily.

“How would I relax you? I mean, some girl?”

“Y-Yes.”

“First, I would kiss you breathless.”

“You mean her.”

“Right. I would kiss her lips over and over, taking off one article of clothing at a time, sit her down on the couch while I make my way into the kitchen…pour her a glass of her favorite wine and hand it to her. Then I would kiss down her body, telling her sweet words. How much I love her, how much I missed her today, how much she means to me. I will kiss down until I am taking off her pants along with her underwear…” “And then?” you breathe out.

“Kiss her sweet, soft skin…taste her. Taste how fucking good she tastes. Eat her out while she sips on her wine…”

“Oh nice.” You laugh a little.

“Make her come all over my tongue, getting her drunk on her orgasm.”

“And her wine.” You point out.

“Yes, both. After she comes, I will kiss back up her body and hold her.” Jungkook releases short breath after the other. “Make her feel wanted.”

“That does sound relaxing…”

“You like?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe—”

“Next question is ‘What turns you on almost instantly?”

“Dirty talk.”

“I see.”

“What—”

“You have to answer too, remember?”

“My stomach being touched.” You admit. “How do you feel about toys?”

“Not against them, could be fun to try out.”

“I agree…how do you feel about blindfolds?”

“You answer first.” Jungkook says shyly.

“I’m into it.”

“Being blinded? Or blinding someone?”

“Both? Yes, both.”

“Fuck, me too.” He folds his arms behind him as he leans back further into the sofa.

“Both for you too?”

“Yes. It would be boring if I was only into one thing right?”

You laugh, “Yes, I think we think similarly.”

“Interesting.”

“Very.” You smile at him and he smirks, “Would you like to watch me touch myself?”

“Yes—”

“—Wait, like your partner, not me.” You both say at the same time.

“Oh, well yes.” Jungkook says again. “Watching your fingers travel down to your pussy, rubbing your clit…well, not you but you get my point.” He says, his breathing becoming heavy again.

“Oh. I would also like to watch you.”

“But not me.”

“Exactly.”

“Spit or swallow?”

“I like a girl who swallows.”

“I like to swallow most times and if I don’t swallow it’s because I’m letting the guy come on my face or my tits or—”

“God damn it, y/n.” Jungkook breathes out erratically. His hand goes to his crotch as he tries to hide his growing member.

“Rough or sensual?”

“Fuck. Both, definitely both.”

“I agree. Why not both all the time?” you squeeze your thighs together again as you watch Jungkook shift uncomfortably in his seat on the couch.

“Would you let me pleasure you as you drive? I mean, your partner. Sorry it’s just the way the questions read…”

“Yes. I would.”

“Seems a bit unsafe…but I would give it a try.” You say, “Do you like your hair to be pulled?” you ask with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

“Fucking love it.” He admits between heavy breaths, “But I like to pull hair too.” He winks.

“I do too, but I prefer being the one pulling.” You wink back. “Are you quiet during sex?”

“I—I don’t know…Am I?” Jungkook looks into your eyes, and you blank. Is he actually referring to the time you two had sex? Without him getting weird? “You aren’t the quietest.” You admit, “But it’s so fucking hot.”

“Well, you definitely aren’t quiet.” He says, “Can barely touch you and you’re already whimpering out.”

“Depends who the guy is.”

“Well, when it’s with me…sorry, I shouldn’t bring that up.”

“Right…” your fingers find their way into Jungkook’s hair, “But why not?”

“y/n…” he warns and you chuckle.

“What?” you decide to play innocent. “It was so long ago, Jungkook. We should be able to talk about it by now.”

But Jungkook can’t. Because although it’s almost been 4 years, it’s still so fresh for him. Not just the feeling of being inside you but the emotional shit he was feeling too.

“I’ll tell you one thing and one thing only about that night,” Jungkook decides to say, his hand goes to yours and gently places it back in your lap. “It felt so fucking good.” He whispers out and you feel all the heat in your body rush to your aching pussy.

“Oh.” You breathe out erratically. “I guess, I would have to agree.”

“Should we sleep soon?” Jungkook leans back as he asks you this.

“Don’t you want me to share one thing about that night?”

“…Sure.”

“You…felt so…good…inside me…” you say between deep breaths.

“You felt even better, y/n.”

It’s Saturday morning, and you find yourself waking up on the couch, a big blanket draped around your body and you can’t help but snuggle into it, not wanting to get up quite yet.

On the other side of the couch is a still sleeping Jungkook, his light snores filling your ears. You two didn’t even finish your wine last night, so you are waking up hang over free. The sun is shining today, it’s rays peeking through your window blinds and you want to throw the blanket over your head to hide yourself from the brightness but you decide to actually wake up and get up instead.

You throw the blanket off your body and on to Jungkook, who gratefully takes it and cuddles deeper into the covers. You stand up and head towards the bathroom to wash up, turning on a hot shower.

You wonder what you’ll be up to today, will you stay in? Go out? Hang with the girls? By the way, did they ever come home last night? You stop by Holly’s room to find it empty. Interesting, you guess they went to Trina’s.

The shower is ready for you so you slip in and let the warm water cascade over your tired body. You shampoo, condition and wash your body, when you hear insistent knowing on the bathroom door.

“y/n!!! I gotta pee!!” Jungkook’s worried voice is heard over the running water, “That’s it, I’m coming in okay?!”

And before you can respond, you hear the door being swung open and Jungkook lifting the toilet seat lid up and releasing himself. You fucking laugh. He literally says ‘Aaahhh’ for the same amount of time he is peeing.

“Fucking finally, I thought I was going to piss myself.” He says when he’s finishing up.

“Sorry.” You reply lamely. “Shower felt too good to leave.”

“Well, hurry up so we can go get something to eat. I’m so hungry!”

“Okay, okay.” And with that, Jungkook is leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You finish washing up, stepping out of the shower and drying off. You quickly leave the bathroom in just your towel to head to your bedroom. Thankfully, Jungkook is on the couch watching some show on Netflix—too busy to notice your half naked state.

You get dressed in a rush, not wanting Jungkook to wait much longer for you. You settle for some jeans and a cute yellow shirt.

“I like yellow on you.” Jungkook says when he sees you. “Pretty.”

You are sure your cheeks are turning a nice shade of red at his compliment but you cover them with your hands to hide yourself.

“Thanks JK.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

Photo

26 - in your arms (m).

Previous chapter reckless choices.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

The unexpected appearance of the young man with the unusual bright orange hair throw you all off guard, a minute have passed with the four of you starring at each other.

“I’m Zhong chenle, I moved to the 49th floor I believe that make us neighbors” his big smile never faltered.

Jeno broke the rude silence, he cleared his throat, “It does” exchanging looks with jaemin,

“welcome man, I’m jeno and this is jaemin” they shake hands with him while you stand there awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Chenle looks at you waiting for an introduction, jeno and jaemin hesitate for a second before jeno speaks again “that’s sera, she’s our roommate” You force smile, you feel uncomfortable with the attention, the way his eyes were scanning you from top to bottom..your messy hair, puffy face with red eyes and nose, your scraped knee through your torn jeans. You obviously been through something. you looked away hoping he would get the hint and stop starring.

“Excuse us, we just came back from a long trip and we all are tired. See you around” jaemin spoke trying to cut the encounter short as he walked into the elevator first and you followed him, but chenle spoke again “I’m throwing a home warming party tomorrow night, you should come. You can bring guests too if want”.

The elevator doors close, “he seems .. “ jeno trails and jaemin finishs his sentence “wild, we should be more carful now”.

As soon as they walk through the door, they head straight to their rooms leaving you alone. you huff, still upset with yourself, you thought you should try again with jaemin, you want to properly explain yourself to him. you knock on his door, no response. you turn the door knob and let yourself in.

His clothes were scattered on the floor, the shower was running and steam was coming out of the slightly open bathroom door. You walk in and closed the door behind you, you too discard your clothes too you could join him.

You open the bathroom door trying not to make any noise, the way his toned body stood in the hot fog, the way the water hits his muscular tattooed back made your heart flutter. Your face growing warm and you can’t blame it all on the hot stream.

you tiptoe closer but you straddle him before you could surprise him, a heavy sigh blows out of him, he turns his back to you resuming his shower “what do you want?”.. you, I want you, you wished you could be honest, but you aren’t discouraged yet, as long as he’s not throwing punches you’er good to go.

You get in the shower wrap your arms around his waist, pressing naked chest to his bare back. He doesn’t react or try to push you away.

“Im sorry” you say in your softest voice “I wasn’t thinking straight, I was scared and shocked, I didn’t know what to do”, you tighten your hold around him when he doesn’t say anything. he sigh but this time in defeat and turns in you arms to face you, his hands come cup your cheeks. “sera, if you want to leave, then go. I won’t hold you back anymore”, you shake your head refusing his suggestion, “ I don’t” your hands grabbing his arms, afraid that he will let go and you’ll lose him. He doesn’t believe you, his hands loosens ready to pull away from you, “jaemin” you try to step even closer, your arms reaching to the back of his neck “I promise you I don’t want to go. I want to stay here, with you” your voice straining with growing fear.

“Sera” he try to pry your arms of off him “I don’t know anymore, I try my best but you alway want to leave me”

“no” you stretch yourself on your tiptoes to reach his lips as you pull him down, you mold your lips with his, the feverish kiss lasts for what seems to be hours, your heart explodes in your chest when he opens his mouth to take your tongue in. his taste intoxicate you, making your head spin with lust, but you had to pull away to breathe.

the way his eyes were still closed, the way his chest was heavily rising, the way his cheeks were returning to their original color, and the way he was beige vulnerable in your hands it all tugged on your heart strings.

He pulls you by your waist and holds you his chest, he hugs you so tight like he was trying to push you inside of his chest cavity. You don’t mind as you try to do the same to him, it would be nice if you could keep him next your heart.

You can feel all the exhaustion and frustration melts off of him. his angelic smile returns, his hands hold your face in place as he leans down to press tens of kisses to it, your giggles echoing off the walls. you reach for the body wash “Let me take care of you” you say to him in between the small kisses. You bit your lip when he doesn’t object, you squeeze the soapy gel into your hand and start leathering it over his bored chest, slowly moving to his shoulders and arms. He turns around and you do the same to his back, your hands move back to his stomach and you work your way down to his groin region, you take your time exploring his body, admiring every detail.

“sera..” his low voice calls your name, you ghost over his half alerted member earring a hiss.

You feel the strong thumbs of his racing heart, you stop dragging it and take him in your hand, he moans and throws his head back, you bite on the soft skin of his back as you were getting exited yourself.

You slowly stroke him, feeling him twitch as he grows harder in your hands, his hips move in sync with your touch, his low moans and heavy breathing sound like a mesmerizing spell being casted over you.

He make a questioning sound when you stop, you turn him around and get on your knees in front of him to indulge yourself into him more. You take him in your mouth, you both moan when the intimate contact happens, you lose yourself in the way he feels filling your mouth, you take him deeper to the back you your throat finding pleasure with the struggle to take all of him in. he hiss and stops you “baby.. slow down”, you feel self conscious as shyness bites at your cheeks.

He helps you up, turning around pressing you to the cold tiles “I want you too you know” he mumbles into your neck as his lips attacks it, the work of his hunger and wet mouth makes you dizzy, his hands touching, squeezing, pinching every accessible part of you.

You were both needy for each other, passion was running in your vines fueling you to go further, you arch you back into him “Jaemin.. please” you moan, begging him to do something already, his hands he grab your hips, pulling them back to gain better access to the place he hasn’t touched yet, he aligns his tip to your opening and slowly starts pushing in, there’s no resistance as he smoothly slides in, he opens you, stretching your walls around him.

Your loud moan egging him to go deeper, although it’s not your first time with him, but it feels like a new experience. his arms wrap around you, securing you for what’s to come, he stills when he bottoms out, taking a moment to enjoy being completely buried inside of you.

You swear your bones went soft when his hips starts moving, he slowly pulls out before pushing back in, high pitched gasp comes out of you with each thrust, your toes curl and you fingers scratch the cold wall. your eyes flutter and your mind goes blank, all you are aware of right now is the immense pleasure of him stuffed deep into you.

He grunts before he bites your shoulder, muffling his sounds, his thrusts gets stronger, rougher, you jerk froward every time his hips snap back into you before his hands pull your hips back to him. you feel the tight knot in the pit of your stomach, your back arching into him more. He seems to know how close you are “baby you gonna cum?” He asks you but your mushy brain doesn’t register it, he holds you closer and give you exactly what you need, faster thrusts. It toke only two more thrusts to push you of the edge, your walls convulse around him, you chant his name as you come undone, he push himself deeper into you and stays there to make sure you ride the last bit of your intense orgasm.

His hand creases your lower abdomen to calm your shaking body as your try to catch your breathes, “you ok?” you weakly nod to him, you don’t want to speak as your head is being folded with euphoric cocktail of hormones.

“can you take more?” he makes sure you can before he starts moving again, you hiss at the burning sensation, you’er still sensitive and he was overstimulating you, but you quickly start to enjoy it too, specially knowing he finds his pleasure in you.

He dose’t last long after that, couple more sharp thrusts and he pulls out and spill his hot cum over your back.

He holds you close for a while, before he helps you cleaning yourself, with both of you very tired, clean and very much satisfied, you dry yourselves and for the first time you willingly wear his clothes instead of yours.

You lay in his bed first and wait for him, “you still have it?” you squeal when you saw he still keep the teddy bear he bought you from the hospital next to his pillow, “I do” he sheepishly smile as he gets under the covers with you and pulls you closer to him, “can I take it?” .. “hmm it’s yours, its always have been yours” his words fill your fills with butterflies. you turn and snuggle closer to him, you lay over his chest socking in his warmth, his hand plays with your fingers.

“When does your classes begin?” He asks you,

“Next Monday”..

You look up at him, you stare into his dreamy eyes, you swear you can fall into them, you were smitten.. but the events of last night came creeping back, bursting your lovey dovey bubble, your hand pulls out of his, your body starts to retract itself away from him. But holds you firmly, retaking your hand in his “sera, he was a very bad man” he tries to explain, knowing the cause behind the sudden change in to your behavior, but his words don’t appease your worry, so he tries again.

“look at me, It has to be done or many people would have gotten hurt. Im not what you think I am” but the knot between your eyebrows still tight so he brings your hand up to his mouth, and kiss each finger before he place it on his cheek “l left my father’s gang long time ago, I’m not that type of a man, never was never will”, you can hear the sincerity in his voice and you finally settle in your place next to him and nod “I know”.

#nct dream #nct smut #nct yandere #nct mafia #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct imagines #nct reactions

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 2

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 5.2k

Masterlist

A/N: o my god i did not expect so many people to have read the first part… even if only one person reads im still happy :D anyways heres the second part (i swear bang chan wont just be a side character later on hhahaha)

The insistent beeping of the alarm on your phone was what first woke you up from your dazed sleep. Your head still pounded from the night before, and frankly, you were ready to get fired for an extra five minutes of sleep. Tapping the ‘cancel’ button on your phone, you flipped over head down on your pillow to find the beautiful dreamland you were in. However, after just five more minutes, the triggering beeping of your backup alarm took you out of your slumber again, this time really waking you up.

You trudge towards your bathroom, still dreading the day, on your way to take a shower. Thankfully, the steam from the warm shower combined with the fragrant smell of your conditioner slightly woke you up and dampened the aching in your head.

Being drastically more awake than before, you made your way over to your kitchen to prepare breakfast. You opened the fridge, mind blank, just staring at the empty shelves. I seriously need to do some grocery shopping, you thought before grabbing an egg.

You struggled to turn on the stove, not knowing which knob correlated to which burner. Turning a random one, you flinched when an excessive amount of fire appeared. However, after an embarrassingly long amount of time, you finally figured out the stove. Why are there still gas range stoves when electrical stoves exist? You wondered.

You looked at the sad cooked egg in front of you.

Was this really how you were going to live from now on? You cursed your whole family for spoiling you so much back home. Sure you were grateful for being able to live with your family for twenty three years, but the consequences of your mother making a fuss when you tried to cook for yourself was really showing now.

You were about to dig into your lonely meal when your phone buzzed all of a sudden. Taking a quick peek at it, you saw Na-eun’s name flash up. You beamed with joy. Although you already worked up the nerve to be the first one to contact her, you were thankful she did first to break the tension. However, there was a small — microscopic even — part of you that wondered: what if that were Bang Chan?

You unlocked your phone.

Na-eun: Hey! I know it’s kinda last minute, but do you wanna meet for breakfast?

Na-eun: There’s a café five minutes away from the building.

Na-eun: ^-^

Smiling to yourself, you quickly typed a reply.

Y/n: Sure! My breakfast looks too sad to eat…

Y/n: ^-^

In a flash, you stuffed your egg into a plastic tupperware container and put it in the empty fridge before booking it out your door, making sure to carefully enter the passcode to lock it before running to the staircase. You almost tripped over the stairs going down as you tried to sprint and text Na-eun at the same time. Checking the maps app on your phone, you told her how long it would take for you to arrive at the café.

Na-eun: Do you mind if I bring my roommate? She keeps complaining about how boring it is at home haha....

Na-eun: She’s really nice though! ^^;

You happily agreed since you weren’t in the position to turn down another potential friend. Already two potential friends? You were so excited.

There was a bounce in your steps as you made your way down to the subway. Scanning your card, you made your way to the big group of people on the platform and waited for your train. Taking the subway was so new, yet refreshing. There was something exciting about seeing a brand new set of people board the cart every stop, it was almost like refreshing your Instagram feed over and over again.

After just a couple minutes more of waiting, your subway came. You naturally found your way in by shuffling along with the flock of people and found a good place to stand.

You surveyed your cart. Some high school students, a few elderly, and many many businesspeople dressed in attire very similar to you. They all seemed to be busy on their cellular devices, so you quickly pulled yours out as well, eager to blend in. Your little Tamagotchi friend was happy to see you.

The sound of the automated woman’s voice was what drew you out of your concentration, as she announced that the subway would be stopping at your destination next. When the subway stopped, the sea of people rushed out in a big tidal wave and you just went along with the flow.

The map posted on a big pillar in the station was difficult to read at first, but after embarrassingly asking a station officer, you were confident you knew where you were going. The station was big with many interwoven hallways, each connecting to a different location. It had a couple shops and convenience stores located along the sides where students running late could buy some bread or tired businesspeople could inject their early morning dose of caffeine.

You weaved your way through the long halls, confident that you could remember how you got out the right exit yesterday. Finally, after passing by many familiar stores and signs, you eventually made it above ground at the right exit. It was a cloudy September morning, the wind flew past you at just the right speed to elicit a slight shiver. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket in your rush to the café. The streets were busy with cars zooming by, but it was nowhere near as congested as the subway traffic.

You started following your phone’s GPS to the marked location, and after a couple minutes, you spot the café. You immediately recognized it as a chain café as you’ve seen a few more of these scattered around the city as you got around. This one, however, appeared to be larger than the others (presumably because it was near so many big name companies) as it had three floors in total.

You texted Na-eun, telling her you’ve arrived. She let you know that they were both in one of the booths on the second floor, so you decided to order before heading up. Walking over to the cashier, you scanned their massive menu, trying to find what you were looking for.

“One mango juice, please.” You politely ordered. “And also a slice of the red velvet cake.”

After you had paid, you waited patiently, hands folded in front of you for your food. Because it wasn’t busy in the morning, it wasn’t that long until one of the baristas handed your food to you on a tiny plastic tray and you started making your way up. You reached the top floor and scanned your eyes around the room to find a familiar face.

“Y/n!” Na-eun waved.

You waved back and made your way over. She was in the booth, and there was another girl sitting beside her.

“Y/n, this is my roommate Yoojin.” She smiled at you and made a gesture towards the smaller girl sitting beside her. She was a fluffy haired girl. Her appearance was puppy-like, with her wide eyes and a large smile that was almost too big for her face.

“Hi Yoojin.” You said as you sat down.

“Hi Y/n! Na-eun told me about you yesterday. It seems like you have similar jobs.” She looked back at you with wide eyes. “But I think you got luckier because you actually get to interact with the idols.”

“I think both of us are lucky to even be working there,” you chuckled, “plus, I don’t actually get to be working directly with the artists. I could only wish.” You joked.

“Still extremely lucky, Na-eun told me she saw Bang Chan and Felix from Stray Kids at your building’s cafeteria yesterday.” Her hair bounced. “Finally, now I can say I’ve indirectly met famous people.”

You and Na-eun both laughed. Although Yoojin looked the same age as you, there was something about the way she acted that just seemed so precious and innocent — like a little sister. How old was she anyway?

“Yoojin’s younger than me by a few years,” Na-eun said as if she read your thoughts, “She graduated university a year early. Top of her programming class. She knows everything about technology; one time, I stupidly forgot the passcode to my P.O. box and she cracked it for me in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Stop it.” Yoojin whined, looking down and playfully hitting Na-eun on the shoulder. “I told you before that I don’t like it when you talk about me. Let’s talk about Y/n instead. Na-eun told me you’re not from here, what do you do at JYPE then?”

“I’m an assistant to help market some of the artists in China.” You leaned in a bit. “Actually, to be honest, I’m working on a secret project and Bang Chan from Stray Kids is technically part of the team.”

Both Yoojin and Na-eun’s eyes widened. “No way, you’re so lucky.” Yoojin said. “Why can’t you have a job like that?” She poked at Na-eun.

“Get your own job first,” Na-eun smirked, “then we can talk about mine.”

“Hey! I do have a job.” Yoojin clenched her jaw, looking at her plate and avoiding eye contact.

“I’m not sure if talking to people online all day counts as a job.”

“Whatever.” Yoojin swirled her fork on her plate, stabbing at a piece of her cake. The scraping of metal on ceramic made all of you wince.

“Anyways,” you started, trying to change the atmosphere, “did anybody watch the first episode of that new drama?”

The two girls seemed to have a mood switch, looking relieved to start a new conversation. They gladly added their input and opinions on the new drama, talking about both the plot and the actors. Time passed by twice as fast as the three of you sat at the booth talking about the most random things. However, it was soon time to go to work for both you and Na-eun.

“Hey, before you leave, could I get your number?” Yoojin asked. “We should hang out again sometime.”

You gladly typed your contact into her phone, excited to hang out with Yoojin again. She was so full of energy, it reminded you of your university days. Not to mention that fluffy curly hair. It was so cute.

You and Na-eun both made it out of the café and walked side-by-side over to your building before parting ways at the elevator corridor. It was a miracle that you managed to arrive at your cubicle in time, without getting lost. There was a pile of papers on your desk; they were the files you worked on yesterday. You remember that yesterday Manager Chen marked some improvements that could be made to the papers, but you checked your email just to be sure.

Hello Y/n,

I put the documents from yesterday on your desk for some final edits. I’ve also added a few more. Could you finish them all by the end of the day?

Best,

Manager Chen

You flipped through the stack of documents, and sure enough, there were about five more letters that needed to be worked on. Feeling determined, you gritted your teeth, got out your pen, and started to do your job.

There were more corrections to make than what you expected, plus, you wanted to make sure your work was perfect this time. You skipped a trip to the cafeteria for lunch and ate something from the vending machine at your desk instead. You tried your best to work diligently, but because of your inexperience, it was taking longer than expected. You lost track of time as the hours passed by.

“Your team is working hard today, Manager Chen.” A voice came from across the room. You looked up from your stack of documents to see Manager Kim walking over towards Manager Chen, who was standing casually outside her office doors.

“What can I say, I keep them busy.” She replied. “Are you heading home now?”

“Yes, and so should you.” Manaker Kim stopped at your cubicle, putting a hand on the wall. It was cat-like the way he looked at you. “Y/n, you’re working hard. Are you going home now? I’ll give you a ride.”

You couldn’t head home now, not with the amount of work you still had with the new letters Manager Chen added to the pile. “Thank you for the offer, Manager Kim, but I’ll stay later today. I need to finish this work by today.”

“Let her be, Manager Kim, you know how new employees are.” Manager Chen nagged and crossed her arms. “Come, I’ll walk you to the parking lot.”

You bowed at both your managers and stretched your back before getting back to your work. The black lines of both languages started to blur into one as you strained your eyes to hold a tighter focus on the documents. It wasn’t until two more gruesome hours later when you finished your work. You did a long deserved stretch of the arms and checked the clock for the time, praying that it wasn’t too late. Thankfully, with the time being only eight, it wasn’t that dark out. You took a quick peek at your phone to check your notifications before leaving the office.

There were only two texts sent fifteen minutes ago. Both from Bang Chan.

Your chest tightened when you unlocked your phone.

Bang Chan: Hey, I know it’s a bit late, but I have some ideas for the project and I was thinking we could meet up to discuss them

Bang Chan: Only if you want that is…

Your brain was in jumbles as you thought of what to text back. There were a couple staff that wrote you emails about their ideas for the project, but none of them asked to meet in person. And now, the first person who asked you to have a meeting in person was Bang Chan. Whom you rode back to your apartment drunk with. On your first day at work. And now you missed his work-related text by fifteen minutes. However, even though it was late, you still felt like you needed to take his ideas in. After all, like Manager Chen said, you know how new employees are.

Y/n: Hi, sorry my reply is late… Are you still free?

You anxiously stared at the blue-lit screen of your phone, jumping in and out of the text app waiting for a reply. After less than a minute, you saw the little dots at the bottom which indicated that he was typing. It disappeared for a moment, only to come back less than a second later. Your thumbs started unconsciously fiddling with one another in front of your phone screen as you waited for what felt like eternity.

Bang Chan: It’s alright haha

Bang Chan: There’s a cafe about 5 minutes from our building, wanna meet there?

You immediately knew which café he was talking about as you conveniently hung out with Na-eun there this morning. You texted Bang Chan back, letting him know that you would be there as soon as possible. You grabbed your bag, along with your trusty pen and notebook, before leaving your desk for the elevators. The elevator ride was unusually fast as it was already well past working hours for most people.

Once you were out of the building, you made your way down the familiar sidewalk, passing by the familiar street shops as you felt the bite of the wind against your face. The sky was becoming dim as the sun made its descent, but the illumination coming from the streetlamps helped guide you there. After five minutes of a brisk walk, you saw the familiar sign of the café. You also saw a familiar person standing outside the door, dressed in all black, with his head down looking at his phone.

You tried to make your footsteps slightly louder the closer you got to him in order to make your presence known. It seemed to have worked, as Bang Chan heard you and turned his head up. He immediately gave you a boyish grin, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and pulling his face mask down to his chin.

“Hey,” You waved awkwardly, “did I make you wait long?”

“Not at all.” Bang Chan said as he held open the door, “Let’s go in, it’s pretty chilly today.”

You thanked him and walked inside. You both made your way to the cashier and looked up at the menu, deciding on what to buy.

“I think I’ll get an iced americano.” Bang Chan said. “Are you getting anything?”

“Hmm. I might get the mango juice.” You decided and lined up behind Bang Chan, waiting for him to order first.

Bang Chan walked up to the waiting barista. “Hello, I’ll get an iced americano please.” A second passed. “Also a mango juice.”

Your eyes widened as you silently tried to stop him from buying your drink, feeling embarrassed that Bang Chan — who was essentially your coworker — was buying your drink. He didn’t seem to notice your quiet protests, as he pulled his card out of his wallet and quickly tapped it on the pin pad. After he was done paying, he turned around and tucked his card back in his wallet, giving you a smug grin.

“I’ll pay you back later.” You insisted, embarrassed once again that he was doing something for you.

“Of course, of course.” He casually replied and stood beside you with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll wait for our drinks. You can go find a table.”

You nodded and left to find a table on the first floor. Surprisingly, there were more people there at night than when you were there in the morning. Some people had their textbooks out to study, some were quietly enjoying a book. Some were on dates.

Finally, after weaving through many fully filled tables, you found an empty one near the table. You sat down, taking out your pen and notebook to prepare for Bang Chan’s ideas. Not long after, you saw Bang Chan walking around, turning his head left and right to look for you. You caught his eye as you waved at him to come over. He strolled over and put the tray of drinks down on the table, placing yours beside your notebook.

“So,” You took a sip of your delicious mango juice, “do you wanna get started now?”

“Sure.” His usually friendly face turned serious. It seemed like he took his work seriously. “So I was thinking, we need to film some content to start promoting our debut right? How about we film content for the Mid-Autumn Festival? It falls on the same day as Chuseok, so we can use this as a small promotion for our debut.”

You nodded in agreement. Although this idea would be a little last minute to carry out, it was a great opportunity to promote their group in order to gain more popularity before their debut in China. “This is a great idea Bang Chan,” You hurriedly jotted down everything he said, “did you have more to add on?”

“We could make several episodes of this content. I was thinking we could camp in the mountains and maybe cook some food, make mooncakes.”

“All of this is really good, we have three weeks until the actual Mid-Autumn Festival. If I rush this idea to Manager Chen, we could have one week to plan it, and two weeks to film and produce it.” You beamed, glad that you could be involved in a potential big production.

You and Bang Chan kept discussing his idea for content, and as time passed, your conversation turned more casual as it eventually evolved into topics unrelated to work.

“So, why are you having coffee this late anyway?” You tipped your chin towards his glass.

“There’s this part of a song I’m working on that I just can’t get perfect,” Bang Chan noticeably clenched his jaw, “I wanna figure it out before I leave.”

“Do you usually stay up late to work?” You asked.

“I can’t sleep anyways, so I might as well work.”

“Insomnia?” You questioned. He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. A few seconds of silence passed. “You know, my mom made me pack some of her special tea before leaving. She said it was for jet lag, which is weird because there’s only a time difference of an hour here.” You rambled.

“Oh?” Bang Chan tipped his head.

“I could give you some tomorrow.” You said. Your eyes wandered everywhere except to him. “If you want.”

“Really, you’d do that?” His eyes widened as he stirred his coffee with his straw.

It may have been your subconscious need to make friends, or just the fact that you mom gave you so much tea for your non-existent jet lag, but you gladly offered your mom’s solve-all remedy. “Of course, anything for a friend.”

He blinked a couple times. He stopped stirring his coffee. “Thanks.” He looked at you with a slight grin.

“Plus, this way I can pay you back.” You teased.

“Okay, fair enough.” He chuckled. A dimple appeared on his cheek as his smile widened. “But seriously, you don’t need to worry about paying me back for anything next time.”

Next time? You wondered. Of course he would have more ideas for his own group. You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself. It seemed like, despite his easy-going personality, that he cared a lot about not only his job, but the boys he worked with. His work ethic inspired you and made you want to work just as hard as he did. Except you definitely couldn’t stay up as late as he did.

The two of you kept up the back and forth that was established, talking about whatever came to mind, with a few sprinklings of work-related conversations throughout. You talked about your first day impressions and how well you were adjusting to life in a new country, and he retaliated by sharing his own experiences of moving across the world. You were so enraptured by your riveting conversations that you easily lost track of time. It wasn’t until you had already spent minutes playing around with your straw in the empty glass that you finally remembered how late it was.

“It’s kinda late, I think I should get going now.” You said as you checked your phone for the time.

“Are you taking the subway?” He asked as he started gathering the empty glasses. “It’s pretty dark now — I could walk you there.”

“It’s alright. I don’t wanna take time from your work” You said, gathering your notebook and pen.

“It’s no problem, really, it’s just a five minute walk.” He stood up with the tray of empty glasses in one hand and pulled up his face mask with the other.

The two of you left the café and walked the short distance to the subway stairs. There, you parted ways and you started your trek home. Taking the subway at night was vastly different from morning; the morning rush was filled with rows and rows of busy people, whereas the night train had a completely different feeling to it. There were actually available seats, to begin with. You found an empty seat and took out your phone to kill time. You checked your missed notifications.

Yoojin: Hi Y/n!! ^-~ Today was so fun, we should go again sometime!

You smiled at the little text from Yoojin, visioning her wide smile stretch across her face. Texting a quick reply back, you were about to put your phone back down when another notification popped up.

Unknown: Stay away from him. This is a warning.

A flash of panic rushed through your body making your chest tighten. Your heart was coming out of your chest, the beating was so hard you could hear it even in the running subway. Completely fixated on the bright white of your phone, your eyes strained from the light. Adrenaline filled your blood, and in the spur of the moment, you quickly blocked the number and deleted the text chain. It had to just be a prank text, after all, you have gotten pranked through text multiple times before in your past.

You put your phone down slowly, turning your head to survey your subway cart for any suspicious acting people. There was only a grandma with her cane and a few middle school girls comparing their new lip tints. Your thumbs naturally started fiddling with each other. Your eyebrows knit together as you clutched your bag tight to your body for the rest of the subway ride.

The walk back to your apartment was done carefully. You chose the side of the sidewalk with more light as you kept your senses open, trying to remember the face of every person that walked past you. Although it was more likely than not that the text was just a prank, you were still somebody living alone with very few connections in a new country. Your legs quickened at the thought and you hurried your way back.

Arriving at your apartment door, you carefully entered your lock combination and slammed your door shut, double checking that it was locked. Your home was dark, with only the moon casting long shadows on your furniture. You quickly switched your light on. You tried to put this text to the back of your mind as you got ready to sleep, but it loomed, feeling like a shadow cast by the moon. The shadow in your mind stayed as you closed your eyes, waiting for your sleep to chase it away.

The next morning, you woke up to the obnoxious beeping of your alarm. You sleepily sat up, getting ready to perform your familiar morning routine. Everything felt like routine, so monotonous that the text from last night was completely forgotten. You opened the fridge and ate your suspicious egg from yesterday morning.

Before leaving, you suddenly remembered to bring your mom’s magical tea. You rummaged through the cupboards until you found the ridiculous packaging your mom insisted on using.

The route to work was already starting to feel familiar as you mindlessly made your way from your quaint apartment all the way to the opulent blue building. You entered the office and sat at your desk, checking for new emails. After nothing of immediate importance came up, you got out your notebook and started to type up your notes from yesterday.

You were in a trance. The repetitive task of reading and typing completely hypnotised you as hours passed by without you even noticing. What broke you out of your trance, however, was the voice of your boss.

“Bang Chan.” Manager Chen called out. You looked up from your monitor and peeked up from your cubicle to see the familiar hair of a certain man you knew. Assuming he was here for a meeting with Manager Chen, you went back to your hypnotising work. The walls of your cubicle were too high for him to see you anyways — something about eliminating distractions to maximise work efficiency.

You hit ‘enter’ on your keyboard to start a new paragraph when all of a sudden, you spotted an object appear on your desk from the corner of your eye.

A bottle of mango juice.

Quickly turning your head around, you were met with Bang Chan’s back. He was already making strides towards Manager Chen, but something about the sway of his broad shoulders and the way his right hand stretched open told you that it was him who gave you this little bottle of happiness. You unscrewed the lid and took a sip before getting back to work.

Thankfully, the gift you received was enough sugar content to keep you working efficiently for the rest of the day. You had finished all your work and could hopefully pitch Manager Chen the idea by tomorrow. You found your mom’s tea in your bag while gathering your stuff, remembering your promise to Bang Chan.

Y/n: Hey, I have my mom’s tea — I could give it to you right now?

There was a reply almost immediately.

Bang Chan: Sure ^^ I’m in a practice room on floor X right now, I’ll wait by the elevators.

You made your way over to the elevators and tapped your nails on the package of tea whilst silently waiting for an elevator to arrive. The silence, however, was promptly cut off as your phone started to ring. It was from Yoojin. She probably wants to hang out soon, you thought as you happily answered right away.

“Y/n!” Yoojin yelled into the phone, she sounded worried.

“Yoojin, is there something wrong?” You frowned, concerned for the girl.

“I-I was in the parking lot near your building, a-and I fell down the stairs.” She sniffed. “I think I sprained my ankle or something — I can’t stand up. It hurts so much.”

“Oh god, Yoojin, do you want me to come help?” You were in the elevator by now, already pressing the button for the main floor.

“If you’re not far, I don’t want to trouble you.” You heard sounds of her wincing.

“It’s no trouble Yoojin,” You exclaimed, “your ankle is much more important now. I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you Y/n.” You heard her sniff again through the phone.

You bolted out of the elevator as soon as it reached the main floor, stuffing your forgotten package in your bag. Ignoring the looks of confusion of the people you sprinted past, you located the parking lot building as soon as you left the main doors of the JYPE building. Your chest burned and your breaths were heavy.

You were worried for Yoojin. She seemed like such a sweet girl that it pained you to even imagine her hurt in any sort of way. With her fluffy hair and wide eyes, it made you feel like you were helping an injured puppy.

Your legs felt like concrete after a while of running, but you finally made it to the parking lot building. Entering the parking lot, you looked for any sign of a staircase where Yoojin said she fell on. There were none.

“Excuse me, where are the stairs to this parking lot?” You asked the parking lot attendant, assuming it was just hidden somewhere.

“There are no stairs here,” He said, “if you want to get to the second floor, there is an elevator over there.” He pointed to the other side of the lot.

You thanked the man and ran to the elevator, hoping Yoojin wasn’t too hurt by now. You’ve experienced injuries like these before whilst playing sports back home, they hurt like hell. Your breathing was staggered by the time you reached the elevator, however, you didn’t give up and kept looking around trying to find the girl. There was nobody. You were about to call Yoojin again just to make sure you were in the correct place, but a voice interrupted you.

“Y/n.”

It was Manager Kim.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst

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beigehearts · 3 years

Text

Yandere adult trio: college AU These are drabbles for when they lose their mind and kill the people around you... and kidnaps you

These are going to be a little longer than usual but I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it (also im trying out the beta version of the new posting system so lemme know if anything is weird)

Sorry this took me forever bro

CW: murder, blood, physical abuse, alcohol

Hisoka

It's getting quite annoying to be completely honest. He just won't leave you alone, constantly flirting and making passes at you. And yet at the same time he makes fun of you and is actually very mean. It wasn't so bad in the beginning but this is just getting out of hand. You made sure he was aware of this. ---- He's looming over you as he corners you against the wall. You refuse to look up at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

While you aren't looking at him, you can feel him looking at you. You already know he has that annoying grin on his face that makes you want to punch him square in the nose.

He brushes his long fingers against your face, making a quiet humming noise. "Are you ready to give up my pet?"

You ignore his words and slap his hand away from your face. "I need to get to class, move Hisoka."

He frowns though you aren't looking at his face. He opens his mouth to say something when someone from behind him calls out to you. "Hey y/n! Are you okay?"

She walks towards you but before she can get involved you shove the man away and huff. What a nuisance. You turn towards him once you're standing next to your friend and glare at him.

"Leave me alone. It's annoying and it's scaring people. Got it?" Before he can respond you turn on your heels and drag your friend down the hall by her wrist just hoping to put distance between the two of you. ---- You're pretty sure you made it clear that you don't want him near you anymore. But by now you know he doesn't give up so easily. One can only hope that he gets bored of you and finds someone else to bother.

You and your friends went out for brunch earlier, and all was well until Chelsea handed you something. She said that she found it in her bag but it was addressed to you, so you put it in your own bag.

You pour yourself a rum and coke and make yourself comfortable on the couch of your shared apartment. All of your roommates went out for drinks but you were too tired to go out.

After taking a sip of the sweet liquid in your glass, you examine the letter you were given earlier. It's a typical white envelope with your name written in pen. There's no address on it or return address so you assume it was just supposed to be handed to you.

You rip open the letter with your finger and pull out the singular loose leaf paper. It's folded in three sections so you pull it open. The handwriting is messy but in an aesthetic sort of way.

Dear y/n, I strongly suggest that you go to class 406B in the technical building tonight. Don't be late or you'll miss the whole party. 10:45 pm - see you then. I almost forgot, if you don't come I have some revealing pictures of you that I can share with anyone I wish to. XOXO

This is the strangest letter you've ever received. It's probably a prank by one of your roommates or friends. You've never sent nudes to anyone so obviously they're bluffing.

Though perhaps you should entertain your friends and go. Who knows, maybe there will be drinks. But you are tired... Maybe you'll just go to bed. You peek over to the time on your phone, it's 9:12 pm. Yeah, you'll just go to bed after you finish your drink.

'bzz' 'bzzz'

Who is texting you so late at night? You sit up and realize you fell asleep on the couch. You wipe the drool off of your face and grab your phone with distain for whoever woke you up.

It's a blocked number.

ur late

Late? Late for what? Your phone displays the time, 11:27 pm. Are your friends really this committed to their prank? They must be trying to get Tik Tok famous or some shit. Well you're awake now, you might as well head over there.

----

The moment you step into the building something seems off. If all of the lights including the emergency lights wasn't enough, the ground seems sticky. Though you can't bring yourself to use your phone flash light to see what it is.

Eventually you find the room 406B in the darkness. The door is closed and no lights are on in the room. It seems as if no one is inside. As you reach for the handle of the door, you notice something on the window of the door. You can barely make it out, but there's what looks like a hand print. You chuckle, this must be a prank.

Now feeling a little better, you open the door and step inside. It's too dark to see anything but you can make out some figures in the dark. It must be your friends thinking they're being sneaky.

You roll your eyes and look for the light switch, finding it and switching it on. You squint at the sudden light, and your eyes begin to focus. Which you wish they never did.

There is blood everywhere, on the ceiling, the windows, the floor, the tables... But that's not the most jarring part. Your friends are sitting in chairs, one of them sitting on the ground against the wall.

There is your friend Chelsea, sitting in a chair with her head tipped down. You can't even tell what color her clothes originally were, they're covered in red, a dark dark red. Next to her is Derick, he's sitting the same way except his head is tipped backwards. His eyes are wide and his face is left in permanent horror- expressing the brutality of his end. You can't bare to look anymore, you drop to your knees and cover your face with your hands.

You scream and scream until your voice is hoarse and throat is raw. You're left coughing while you are drowned by your own tears.

"Are you ready to give up yet?" A deep voice asks from in front of you.

You can't stop the flow of tears as you look up at this monster. He's also covered in blood, and some is splattered on his face. He wipes a thumb across his face in the blood, and brings it to his lips. Sobs rack your body, you can't even make sense of this.

Hisoka squats down so you're face to face and grips your jaw bone tightly in his hand. You can feel the now cold substance being rubbed against your jaw by his fingers and it makes you want to puke.

"I got tired of waiting for you." His grin is nauseating, forcing you to stop yourself from puking.

His nails dig into your skin, mixing your own blood with that of your friend's. He brings his face close to yours and in a gentle but menacing tone he croaks, "Let's stop this childish game, alright y/n?"

Illumi

It's easy to miss things when you're caught up with the rush of classes and friends and love. All of the parties and hangovers are enough to satisfy your needs for entertainment and drama in this boring life. If you didn't fill up your daily life with these acts, you would probably sleep every day away until you fell into a coma.

To put it short, you're a busy body. And busy bodies don't have time to stop and look around at what is happening. For example, how were you to notice the key under your doormat was missing, or how your dresser drawers were left slightly open when you know you closed them before leaving. Noticing these small things are definitely not on your agenda.

It's 10 am, Saturday, and you don't have any classes or work today. You're sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and chatting with your roommate. It isn't often that you have a free day, and sometimes it is nice to have even if you want to get moving. The sun is peeking through the curtains and the aroma of espresso beans is a delight. It's a bit chilly so you have a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What a peaceful morn-

'BANG BANG'

Your roommate eyes you when someone bangs on the front door, already knowing the events that are about to take place. She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs to her room, not wanting to get involved. You always feel bad that your roommates have to listen to this but you're really not sure how to end it.

You take your last peaceful sip of coffee and call out, "Come in!"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he storms inside and slams the door behind him. Your boyfriend of course is mad about something you've done. He trudges towards you and moves the stool next to you out of the way, and leans towards you so his face is next to yours.

"Are you kidding me y/n?!" He yells in your ear, but you don't flinch because you're used to this.

He rips his phone from his pocket and shoves it in your face after pulling up a screenshot. It's a conversation between you and his friend.

"Can't you learn to shut your damn mouth? This is our business and you have no right to tell anyone about it!" He's practically seething with rage.

You take a last sip of coffee and set your mug down on the counter. You continue facing forward and not facing him. "It's not our business, it's yours. And I asked him if it was true that you were cheating on me." You turn your head towards him while grimacing and mutter, "Again."

Ah but you've just lighted a bomb with your words.

His face has gone red and he looks like he's about to explode. You begin wondering why you were ever attracted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a prude! I can't even kiss my girlfriend whenever I want, it's ridiculous. You know full well that you're so... so... Ugh! You know what? Fuck you!"

As quickly as he came, he runs out of the house, slamming the door once again.

You whisper to yourself, "Fuck you too."

God he's such a child, you don't even want to be with him anymore. But every time you decide to break up with him he suddenly becomes Mr.Perfect. "I'm so sorry." "I love you." "Let me make it up to you." And then he does make it up to you only to tear down all of his hard work.

----

It's been a few days since your big fight with your boyfriend. He hasn't talked to you at all but this isn't uncommon for him. You promised your roommates that you would break up with him, not just for yourself but for the sake of their peace and quiet.

You texted him a few times while you were at work but he left you on read. He's so petty. So you text him one last time.

Come 2 my place at 8 tonight, We need to talk

He answers immediately which surprises you.

Can't, flat tire Come to my place

It doesn't make a difference to you where it is so that's fine. You wonder if maybe he's come to terms with the fact this needs to end. Hopefully so. If there's one thing you want him to be mature about, it's this.

Your shift ends at 6:30pm. You drive home, shower, get dressed, eat something and get ready to leave.

You send one last text,

OMW

It's read immediately but there's no response. Well, it's not like you expected much from him anyway. You drive to his house at 7:45 pm, and arrive around 7:58 pm. All of the lights in his town house are on. He's a few years older than you so he has his own house due to somehow being able to hold down a job. With his anger issues it's hard to believe that he can hold onto anything. Damn, he really is an unattractive person isn't he?

You step out of your car and lock it. Now that you're out of the car you realize that it's very quiet. This is unusual for when you go to his house, normally you can hear music or the sound affects of a shitty video game. But it's silent. Maybe he's waiting for you? He must be taking this well.

You step up the creaky stairs of the house, and knock on the equally as creaky door. No response. Maybe he's sleeping? You peek into the mail box and take out the extra key for the house from it. But when you go to unlock the door, it's already unlocked. This is becoming very strange.

You push open the door and peer into the dark living room. It's not too dark that you can't make out the furniture in the darkness. You step inside and shut the door behind you, it's still quiet. Not quiet, absolutely and undeniably silent. You flick the light on and look around again, nothing seems out of place. It's messy, with empty beer cans and bottles on the ground per usual. The stains on his carpet remain untouched, including the vomit stain in the corner.

"Jay?" You call out into the still atmosphere. Nothing. Is he not home? That can't be, his car is in the driveway.

The sound of his old floor boards being stepped on echoes through the house. What the hell is he trying to pull? You look up the stairs, but it's only darker up there than it was down here. He must be drunk.

Each step you take up the stairs, your heart begins to pound faster. Something feels off, this doesn't feel right. This isn't like your boyfriend, he's simple, he wouldn't try scaring you like this. On the top step, you feel your shoe touch something soft. You lean down and pick it up, and raise it up to your face. A pair of thongs that definitely aren't yours. So that's what's happening. He couldn't even pull himself together for one night.

Your pounding heart is no longer caused by fear but anger. He's cheated too many times to count on your hands, but this time makes you angrier than you've ever been. He's never been in bed with another woman knowing that you were coming over. This is fucking ridiculous.

You stomp towards his room and kick the door open. It's dark but you can tell that there are two people in bed. Your vision has gone red, you've never been this angry in your life.

You don't bother turning the lights on, you storm over to his side of the bed and rip the covers off. Just barely you can make out a woman sleeping next to him. You grab his shoulder tightly and shake him violently to wake him up.

"Get the fuck up Jay! Get! Up!" He doesn't respond, you lean down and yell in his ear like he always does to you. "You're such a childish piece of shit!"

He still doesn't move or speak, for fuck's sake. You stomp back to the entrance of the room and flick on the light. You turn around and begin walking back towards the bed, when you're stopped in your tracks.

Everything is red, but it's not your vision anymore. The bed has been dyed red, and his naked body is covered in it. Your mouths falls open but no screams come out. The woman next to him is splayed out on the bed, naked as well. Covered in red. You look down at the hands that touched your boyfriend, they're also red.

You rush over to the bed and shake your boyfriend again.

"Jay? Jay! Can you hear me?" You put your ear to his chest but you don't hear anything. You put your finger under his nose but don't feel anything.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up! This isn't funny!" Tears stream down your face as you pull him to your chest, cradling him.

Your sobs make it hard to speak and your chest begins to hurt. "J-... Jay... This- isn't-" You gasp between each word, "Funny..."

It's only when you hear a noise coming from behind you that you stop to think about what's going on. It doesn't matter to you though, they could kill you too if they wished.

"People are strange." You turn your head to see where the voice is coming from.

It's someone you don't recognize, he's tall, pale, has long hair, and hypnotizing eyes. Your sobs cease for a moment and you hug your boyfriend tighter to you.

"All of that fighting... You were even coming here to break up with him and yet... You're sad that he's gone?" He makes his way towards you slowly, "I've done you a favor, haven't I?"

He looms over you but all you can do is stand there, frozen by fear.

The man grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you violently from Jay. You try to run back to him, but the man pulls you to him, hugging you tightly. No matter how much you flail in his grasp you can't get away from him. You're left sobbing into his shirt, your body limp in his arms.

"Why?" You manage to whisper.

He holds you to him with one arm and pets your hair with his other hand. "You were miserable. He was making you miserable."

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. What is going on?

"Come on, don't waste your energy on human garbage. I'm here, so it's fine." He states it so 'matter of fact'.

"Who?" Is all you can ask, unable to finish your question.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. Illumi is my name." With ease, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts your face up to his. "Your future husband."

Chrollo

What more could you ask for? You already have easy college classes, fun parties, a good part time job, great friends, and an amazing best friend. Tonight you're going to hang out with a bunch of friends and have drinks at one of their apartments. It's a pretty normal Thursday night, nothing odd about it.

You're waiting for your best friend to pick you up, he's always there to pick you up on the dot. If he doesn't come early that is. You shove all the essentials into your bag and hear a honk outside. Must be him.

But of course you're always tardy. You lace up your shoes and run out of the dorm room, tripping out of the building. He's watching as you stumble towards the car since one of your shoes is already unlaced. When you finally flop down in the passenger seat he shakes his head with a knowing smile.

"Oh y/n, will you ever be organized?" He asks with amusement.

You click your tongue and straighten out your clothes, "Don't ask such stupid questions."

He turns his body towards you as much as possible and pats his lap. You instinctively know what that means. You hike your foot up above the console and put your foot on his lap. He begins tying your shoe, his smile is unmoving. He's always smiling.

"Chrollo, you don't need to baby me." You roll your eyes and groan.

He laughs and pats your leg, signaling that he's done. "If not me then who?"

You swing your leg back over to your side and buckle up. The two of you hang out a lot. Since you're both going to the hangout tonight, you decided to car pool. But first you're going to go get the alcohol. Everyone has to bring something for everyone, that way you guys can get wasted with no qualms.

You plug your phone into the aux and play your shared playlist. The first song that comes on is "The Cult of Dionysus" by The Orion Experience. Something that he added.

Finally you feel like you can relax, it always feels that way around Chrollo. His presence is just, comforting, in every way. You feel like you can do anything, say anything, ask for anything. He's always there for you with no exceptions and honestly you think you may have feelings for him. But it's a question of are you confusing comfort and friendly affection for romanticism. It's just that he's so perfect, he doesn't have a single flaw. Not one that you've ever seen at least. You probably never will see one of his flaws.

You sink into the seat and sigh.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looks back at the road. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing... Just, everything is good."

He knows you better than anyone, so it's an obvious lie when you say this. "But what?"

Anytime he calls you out, you surrender and tell him everything. "Everything is so great you know." He nods with your statement. "I go to a good school, have good friends, have a good job." This has been on your mind for quite some time.

"Something is missing, you know? The excitement, the... the..." You chuckle and turn towards him and put up jazz hands, "The pizzazz!"

He doesn't turn to look at you but you know he saw you when his smile widens. "I get that. Maybe you just need to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something different."

Do something different? Yeah, maybe that is what you need.

----

All eleven of you are sitting in a circle on the ground, drinking and playing never have I ever. You take a long drink of your Mike's hard lemonade, which is just something to get the night going.

Dina wipes hair from her face and smiles, "Okay okay my turn. So never have I ever.... Uhh." She pops up when she thinks of something, "Never have I ever jumped out of a window."

DJ leans forward and raises an eyebrow, "Okay what kind of window we talking? High up? First floor?"

Dina answers, "Any kind, any kind of window." The majority of you put a finger down which makes the group burst out in laughter.

Your friend Zoey finishes off her bottle and slams it down on the floor. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" One of your friends ask.

Zoey thinks for a moment, "Like... Truth or dare, spin the bottle. Or maybe eleven minutes in heaven."

Dj interjects, "I think it's seven minutes in heaven, not eleven."

"Oh whatever DJ, they rhyme." Zoey spits back.

Lex answers, "Let's play seven minutes in heaven!"

Of course DJ huffs and rolls his eyes, "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

Guac (which is his nickname) speaks up, "Oh come on, are you shy DJ?"

Finally the quiet Chrollo sitting next to you says something, "I'm not really interested. Right y/n?" He looks at you to back him up.

The group coos at the two of you and someone says, "We get it, you got something going on. The game is just for fun, don't be so serious Chrollo."

Chrollo opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "Hey, you told me to do something different. Maybe this is the first step."

His face shows betrayal and you feel a squeeze in your heart.

He stands up and glares at the group, "Whatever." He storms out of the apartment, and everyone mumbles to each other. Chrollo has never acted like this so this is quite a shock to everyone.

In order not to kill the mood you speak up, "Alright, let's pull names out of a hat!"

All of you write down your names on a small piece of paper and put it in a baseball cap. Dina pulls two names out of the hat and of course makes it a dramatic event.

"Alright so first we have the most lovely of people..." She looks at the group like a teacher waiting for an answer from her class. "Gracie!" Everyone claps and she stands up in front of all of you, taking a bow.

Dina pats her thighs rapidly, "Drum roll please!" Everyone obeys her, "The next hot piece of ass is y/n!"

You stand up and curtsey, taking Gracie's hand and leading her to the closet. Dina stands in front of the closet once both of you are inside and grins, "Timer starts now kids." She shuts the door on you two and all of your friends cheer from outside.

Here comes the awkward part. It's too dark to see her expression but you already know she's blushing.

You lean towards her and in a low voice so no one else can hear say, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shakes her head, and you brush a hand through her dark coils. The both of you giggle when your finger gets stuck in her hair. She leans in for a kiss, but before your lips meet you're interrupted.

The front door is opened and slammed shut, you hear the lock click as well.

"Hey Chrollo, you feeling better?" "What are you doing?" "Holy shit, please, what are you doing?!" "Are you fucking crazy? This isn't funny!"

Something slams against the closet door and Gracie yelps.

"Whoa whoa, we can work something out." They sound desperate "Back up!" You hear a loud thump and then screams. "Grab him guys!" It sounds like people are running around, but soon the screams become not those of only fear but of pain. There are gargled pleas and pathetic whimpers for mercy.

You and Gracie hold each other, gripping onto one another for dear life.

Soon the screams, pleas, thuds, gurgling, all of it ends. The apartment goes quiet and you try to silence your heavy breathing.

There's a loud thud right in front of the closet and then the doors are opened abruptly. There Chrollo is, covered in blood, and you can see the bodies of your friends behind him. Before you can react, he pulls Gracie away from you, slams the doors closed and there's another thud.

Gracie's screams are blood curdling, screeches and cries for help. You try to open the doors but something is blocking it, keeping them closed. As her screams get louder you throw yourself against the doors, trying to push whatever is there out of the way.

Before you can even imagine of getting out, the screams fade out into whimpers, and into nothing.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You're given no time to think when the doors fly open and you're face to face with Chrollo. He's blocking out the light and his usually neat clothes are crumpled and bloody. You look down to his hands, a sledge hammer hangs from his fingers, dripping with your friend's blood.

"Ch-Chrollo... Please don't." You whisper.

The sledge hammer drops to the ground and he wraps his arms around you gently. "Oh y/n. I would never hurt you."

He's so gentle with you, so gentle. It almost makes you forget what just happened, because he feels like home. "Why? Why did you do this?"

He steps back and grabs your shoulders, he leans down so he's eye to eye with you. "They crossed a line, a line that should not be crossed."

You begin to speak but he grabs your cheeks with one hand and dawns his usual smile, "You don't need them. You have me." He kisses your squished lips as if it were normal. "Right y/n?"

Slowly you nod, you don't need them. If Chrollo says it, it must be true.

"Good girl."

228 notes · View notes

inskz · 4 years

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

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