#i swear to god i though today was saturday

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

no longer an A+ student don't know how ill live with myself

[writtnbyhan]

NFWMB.

PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader

TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1945

PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3

You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.

You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It��s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.

So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.

You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.

Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.

“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.

“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!

You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.

“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”

She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.

It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.

After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.

Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).

Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.

“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.

“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.

He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.

“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.

“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.

You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.

“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.

“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.

“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.

“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.

“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.

The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.

“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.

“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”

“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.

“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.

That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.

“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”

Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.

Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.

You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.

“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”

Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.

“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.

Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.

“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.

[dearsnow]

ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)

- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)

word count: 2,647

a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!

It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.

“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.

Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know for sure. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.

You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.

“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”

The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.

Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.

He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.

He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”

You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”

“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.

He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.

It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.

Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.

“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.

“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”

Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.

You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.

He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.

He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.

“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”

Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”

He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.

You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?

“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.

“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.

It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.

By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.

You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.

“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.

You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.

You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.

“What do you think about Y/N?”

Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”

There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”

Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”

Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”

“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”

“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.

Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.

After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.

He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”

You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.

Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.

“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.

“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”

Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.

“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”

For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.

You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”

“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.

“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.

He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.

He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.

“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.

When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.

Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.

“Can I kiss you?”

You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“

He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.

When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.

“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”

He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”

You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”

“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.

“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (1)

Chapter 2

College Au! Adam x Fem!Reader x Canon! Adam

Summary: You thought God was looking down at you with a pitiful look, when your apartment burned down and the only person who answered your call was your whacky situationship.

But when a weird angel appears, who uncannily looks like Adam just in bigger and even more obnoxious, you realise that God was straight up laughing in your face.

This is based on my College Au! but you don’t need to read it to understand this.

CW/TW: Fire, Porn with slight Plot, Two-Shot, Jealousy, Controlling behaviour, TW ADAM, misogyny, toxic relationship, sci-fi bullshit which makes no sense, Mutual masturbation, slight financial dependency on readers part, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed anything

A/N: This will be a two shot i swear ‼️‼️ nothing more nothing less

Today was a bad Saturday.

It was exhausting and went on longer than it should. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First you had to drive to your college library to give back a book otherwise you would be fined, then you had to work an extra shift because someone got sick (hangover from the party yesterday you skipped), then your bus didn’t come without warning? What the fuck was that about? Since it was the last one you had to fucking walk home.

You were tired to your bones.

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would have noticed the light coming from the floor above your apartments, and the fact that it glowed suspiciously orange and red. Walking up the stairs, the further up you got the more you noticed a heaviness in the air. Is someone using their bbq inside again?

Until the fire alarm went off, while you were one floor away from your apartment. What? You just stood there, frozen in shock. Is this a test? Standing still on the steps you considered continuing your way home, until everyone started spilling out of their own apartments. Ugh. So you’re doing this.

Fleeing with everyone else the building, you stood outside while you watched as the flames finally showed themselves from the outside. Since the apartment where it started was directly above yours, you saw the flames caught over to your own. It smelled like smoke, despair and money you will have to spend to replace everything. You don’t even know if your landlord has insurance. He hasn’t repaired your AC unit in 2 years now.

It felt dreamish, the way the fire department came, being able to see how a big portion was consumed by flames, and in the end sitting at the curb while freezing your ass off. One thing is clear, you won’t be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.

Your neighbours sat with you, together with a fireguy who chatted with everyone about the damage. Some sort of support beam came down. You didn’t bother engaging in the conversation.

It drifted towards where everyone is going to stay, your neighbours already had that figured out. He’s staying with his boyfriend, she’s going to visit her sister and they are going to each take a child and visit their own parents. When the eyes moved to you, you felt uncomfortable. Where will you stay?

“You should start calling your family, sweetie.” The old woman told you, her voice rough from all the cigarettes she smokes.

Everything today got you fucked up. Taking in a shaky breath and wiping your hands on your jeans, you stood up to make a few calls. Walking away from the group and basically hiding behind the firetruck, you didn’t want everyone to see that fact that you have like 3 contacts in your phone. You think they already know, though.

Since it’s in the middle of the night, or more like the new day already, Monica didn’t answer, neither did Dymphna or Bernadette. Maybe you should just crash in a motel. Then you remember what’s in your budget and how the motel in your price range had some weird incidents regarding rats and cockroaches and meth deals.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you tried to keep calm and think. Then you remembered who gifted you that phone and you sighed.

Opening Adam’s contact, you hit the call button before you could chicken out. Holding your phone against your ear, you felt panic wash over you and before you could fumble around to end the call, Adam picked up.

“Fucking hell, baby, if yer callin’ me for anythin’ but a good dicking down ‘m gonna be pissed.” His voice was gruff and it’s clear to you that you just woke him up. He mumbled out the words.

All you could muster up was a sob and a weak “Sorry.”

“Where the fuck-“ You hang up before he could finish his sentence. Great. Why did you even think about calling Adam? Are you stupid? Desperation makes people do crazy things.

You tried to call your friends again and when everyone went to voicemail you thought about blocking them all in a blind rage because why the fuck can’t they be there during an emergency? Taking deep breath to calm yourself, you reasoned with yourself that you too would be sleeping during the witching hours.

Nervously biting down on your lower lip, you considered throwing yourself off a bridge to cope with everything. Deciding against it, you looked at your notifications instead. Adam was spamming you.

[Adam Godfree]: where r u 1:11 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:12 AM

[Adam Godfree]: send ur location 1:13 AM

[Adam Godfree]: baby 1:14 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15

[Adam Godfree]: i’m not mad just say where u are 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:16 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: answer my fcuikng calls 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: im cuminv over u btter be fucking there 1:17 AM

More messages and call attempts clogged your notifications.

The fact that Adam is the only one answering in your time of need is lowkey so embarrassing. Since you read the messages through your notifications field, you aren’t leaving him on read. You think that would have ticked him off even more.

Taking a sneak back at the street, still covering your body with the fire truck, you noticed that everyone was gone. They all have retired for the night. It was a pretty intense debacle, everyone coming out to watch and film. The fire truck was started and you jumped slightly, fleeing towards the side walk.

If a fire truck drove you over you’d be very very very unhappy.

Sitting down on the street like the loser you are, you rubbed your hands over your face. Don’t cry. You’re all alone. But don’t cry. Don’t cry. Looking up the nearest Motel near you, which you could afford, you got up. Your legs felt weak. You didn’t even have a fucking phone charger with you. At least you took your laptop and the charger with you, if any of your files were gone you’d die.

You couldn’t help but think of everything you need to replace. Ok maybe you can cry a little. Crying and walking is an honest to god awful combination but beggars can’t be choosers or whatever.

Maybe you should text Adam that everything’s fine and that you were just being a bit dramatic. It’s been like, what? 10 minutes? And he usually takes 20 minutes to get here. You feel bad that he had to drive half the way.

Just as you were about to open the chat, a car turned into your street with an illegal speed. Damn.

Is that Adam’s car??? Double damn.

Adam stopped the car besides you with squeaking breaks and tires. He threw open the car door, and even before he fully stepped out he was yelling at you, “Bitch, what the fuck?!? You have the fucking nerve to call me up in the middle of the night and then to ignore me?? Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to? How many other-“

“My apartment burned down.” You wanted to bawl your eyes out.

Everything you have meticulously worked hard and saved up for is gone. All your memories and trinkets and plants and everything you valued.

“..You’re joking?”

You shook your head, deciding on covering your face with your hands while you full on started sobbing now. Your breathing was hysterical and you thought you were about to full on start hyperventilating now because you have to apply for new documents now and what’s with your class notes and well at least all your cards were with you. Do you have to get a P.o. box now and how much does that cost? Can you even afford to be in a motel so long, do you have to pay for that? What happens if they can’t like restore the apartment complex where will you live the market is horrible and you’re going to be homeless and in debt, won’t you? You will have to drop out or take up more shifts or even get a second job but your grades and scholarship and and and and and and

Adam walked over towards you, but you were too deep in your mental breakdown spiral to notice it, and he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. You flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but when you realised it’s just Adam you relaxed again. Taking your hands away from your eyes, you had them resting on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry that pretty little head. I will take care of everything, alright?” Adam’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. His fingers were massaging your tense muscles. You looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded pathetically at him. You didn’t trust your voice.

Adam started grinning down at you, “I have always wanted a cum dump at home, anyways.”

This just made you start crying again. Motel it is.

“Ah, bad joke. Don’t cry, cmon. You know me, babe, don’t have ta do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulled you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair while the other rubbed your back. He’s warm and soft. You continued to sob into his sleeping shirt, while clutching at his shirt.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been crying for, but Adam simply stood during that time with you at the side walk, while comforting you. He didn’t speak, which was rare.

Once you have finally made the rational adult decision to calm down, after god knows how much time has passed, you lifted your head up from his chest and took a step back. You were still sniffling and you didn’t even want to image what your face was looking like.

Adam grasped your cheeks into his hands while wiping away your tears with his thumb, “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed. Must have been exhausting for my poor, little baby.”

He leaned forward, giving your forehead a kiss. Then he grasped you by the shoulders and lead you towards the passenger seat, opening the door for you and helping you in by grasping your hand in his. Once you were sat down, with your bag at your feet, Adam leaned down towards you and put your seatbelt on for you. He closed the door and walked over to sit down in the drivers seat.

Driving to Adam’s apartment was relaxing, music was playing and you were starting to fall asleep.

“..Ho….that…ven..hap..”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from the car window, blinking at Adam sleepily.

“I asked how the fire even happened?” Adam glanced over at you, you were going to be there soon.

You sighed, and rested your head again against the window, “Guy feel asleep with a joint in his hand…Or was it his mouth? Doesn’t matter. Curtains and carpet caught on fire.”

“Oh my fucking…You’re kidding me?” Adam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

You stretched your arms, hands and fingers out before you, “I wish.”

Adam continued watching you, glancing at you as if you didn’t notice. He was trying to be slick. Smoothly parking his car, he got out. You opened your car door, taking your bag with you when you left the car. Adam took your bag from you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. You both made your way to his apartment.

Taking off your thin winter coat, together with your old boots, you were ready to just pass out.

“You want me in the guest room?” You asked him, while rubbing at your eyes.

“The fuck? No. You’re sleeping with me, baby. Pun intended.” He winked at you.

You sighed warily, you’re too exhausted to even glare at Adam. He was still fighting with untying his own boots. Shifting from one leg to the other, you decided on looking around Adam’s living room. Nothing has changed. Still weirdly sterile and empty. His bedroom was at least somewhat different, filled with band posters and guitars.

After Adam finally got his shoes and jacket off, he intervened your fingers with his and lead you to his bedroom. He went and rummaged through his closet, giving you a sweatshirt, “This should do for now, we will get you new fucking clothes tomorrow….”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you remember this next time I want my dick sucked? How I’m such a nice fucking guy, and how you owe me, babe.” Adam pinched your cheek while he spoke, grinning down at you.

Dear god, please fix up your apartment as fast as possible. With lots of love, your saddest creation.

Adam answering your call is literally the devils work, you can’t explain it otherwise. Is this some sort of punishment? What did you do in your last life to deserve this.

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you got out of his grasp and turned your back to him to get dressed. Taking off your own hoodie, and bra you slipped into the sweatshirt Adam gave you. It was soft and the material was thick and nice. It was huge on you, but that’s just because Adam is a big guy. Everywhere.

Taking off your jeans, you folded your clothes messily and put them on Adam’s desk chair. Adam was already in his sleeping wear, since you gracefully woke him up in the middle of the night. He was in bed, watching you get dressed, while he yawned.

Ducking under the blanket with him, Adam grabbed your arm and dragged you towards him. It’s like he wants to live in your skin. He made your head rest against his chest, while he had his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Wake me up again today, ’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down ever fucking again.” He grumbled at you, while giving your ass a pinch.

You gasped slightly, before burying your head into his neck. He always smells nice.

Before you knew it, you were already asleep.

In your dream, a big support beam in your burning building was dropped on you. Crushing your body to the floor, with your back to the ground.

Blinking, you slowly but surely woke up, with your heart hammering against your chest. Trying to turn over, you noticed something heavy laying on you. Adam’s head was on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your back and his breathing was even. Remembering his threat, you decided on letting him sleep. Sighing and burying your hand in his soft hair, you decided on continuing snoozing.

But as soon as you buried your hands in Adam’s hair, Adam lifted his head up and was now resting his chin on your chest. Does he not know that tits are sensitive?

With his oh so charming grin on his face, you just knew he was up to no good. He shifted and was now resting his weight on his arms, besides your head, rather than using your body as a pillow. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Adam crashed your lips together, he is as shameless as always. His hand roamed your body, till he slipped it under your sweatshirt. Gently fondling your left breast. He rolled his half-hard dick on your thigh.

Disconnecting your lips from his, you whimpered against his lips.

“What happened to ‘Good morning’? ‘How did you sleep?’. What happened to that?”

Adam moved to kiss your ear, cheek and then your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, while he panted against you.

“Mornin’ slut,” Why is his morning voice so fucking sexy? “you jerk me off right now ‘n I’m going to buy you whatfuckingever you want today.”

You would jerk him off for free. You did jerk him off for free. Are you a whore?

Adam sat up, moving so that both his knees were besides your stomach. You were happy he didn’t sit down on you, he could easily crush you. That’s sexy, though. He kneeled over you, and you saw his dick strain against his fuzzy pants.

He grasped your sweatshirt into his big hand, pulling it up towards your chin to expose your tits. Seeing them made him smirk. Taking your hand into his, he placed it on his dick and ground your palm against him.

“Watcha waiting for, baby?” He purred while looking down on you.

Adam always made you horribly nervous. No matter how often you hang out, or fuck, he always has you blushing and stuttering. Fuck. Grasping the hem of Adam’s pants into your hands, you pulled them down together with his underwear.

His dick was heavy, curving downwards and already leaking pre cum. You’ve had this monster inside you more than once, but every time you’re surprised at just how big he is. It’s not only his length, but also the girth. Jesus. Stretching you out mercilessly every time, you struggled with wrapping your fingers around him. His gold prince albert piercing glinted in the dim light.

Realising with your hand wrapped around him, that jerking him off with dry hands was probably not the move. Making sure to lick your other hand, while keeping eye contact with Adam, you wrapped your now wet hand around his member. You started with slow a slow movement, spreading his pre cum across his dick. You licked your other hand, because this was for sure a two hand job, you now were able to use your left hand for the lower part and the right hand for the top part.

Massaging his tip with your thumb, Adam groaned, “Ughh, fuck babe, you loooove serving me, don’t you? Making me cum is, like, your fucking dream job.” He laughed at his own fantasy, “Don’t worry tho, making your pretty pussy cum is my own life work.”

Adam reached back, his hand brushing over your hips and finally getting under your panties, “Sooo wet already? You’re too easy.” The way he grinned and sounds giddy made it obvious how much he enjoyed it. His fingers found your clit and then your weeping hole. He gathered the wetness on his middle and pointer finger, he then went to massage your clit.

Your hips jerked up, at the sudden pleasure cursing through your body. Moaning up at Adam, your hands stuttered their jerking movements. Quickly catching yourself, you speed up your movements while focusing on Adam rubbing at your clit.

He moved his fingers to pinch your clit in between his fingers, you whined while your hips jerked even more, “Stop that. Do it properly.” You hissed at him, while glaring up at him.

Adam simply snickered at you, but he did move back his fingers to continue rubbing your clit. You moved your left hand to massage Adam’s balls, gently moving your fingers across that sensitive part of Adam. Grasping softly in your hands, arching your palm up in a wave motion.

“Fuuuuuck, ha, you’re doing so well.” Adam moaned out, while he intensified his finger movements. Shit, you’re close. But so was Adam, you could tell by his furrowed brow, he was moving his hips to grind his dick further into your hands and fingers, his noises and breathing.

“Pleaseee, Adam, won’t you cum all over..me?” You pouted up at him, massaging his dick.

The pressure build up in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt yourself cum. Shit. Adam laughed at you, his fingers never left your clit.

It didn’t take much longer for Adam to cum after you, coating your torso white. It was hot, sticky and thick. Ugh. Adam’s fingers still didn’t left your clit. What an asshole.

“EeeeEeeenough, Adam, Oh fuck-“ You tried to angel your hips in a way that he leaves your most sensitive part alone, he chuckled and wiggled his hand out off your panties. Thank god.

Adam pulled his pants back up, and sat down besides your laying down body. You tried to catch your breath, your clean hand covered your eyes. With Adam’s sweatshirt not covering you anymore properly, you were starting to get cold.

Taking your face in his hands, Adam gave your cheek a wet kiss. He brushed his lips over your ear, before whispering in your ear, “Aren’t you just my precious little slut? Go shower, baby.”

You nodded your head at that, showering would be a smart move. Getting up, you located your clothes, before you started walking Adam gave your ass an stinging slap. Gasping in surprise, you went and covered your ass with your hands.

“Man, I didn’t even wake you up..” You grumbled at him, going over to take your clothes.

“Yeah bitch, but you made me wait till you woke up to drain my balls.” Adam got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head.

You stuck out your tongue towards Adam, with your clothes in hand you took off towards the shower. Using Adam’s stuff always felt weird to you. Obviously he doesn’t have woman shower gel, but still. Smelling like Axe was sure something, having your friends side eye you for your smell was even worse.

Getting out, you towelled yourself dry. Slipping into your clothes form yesterday, you left the bathroom. Seeing Adam in the kitchen, at the stove, you made your way over. Wrapping your arms around his mid section, you buried your head between his shoulder blades.

Adam wrapped his one hand over your intervened hands. God, he’s such a big guy.

“Hey baby, you like french toast?”

You simply mumbled a yeah into his shirt, while smelling how good Adams cologne smells. No wonder he’s so popular. If only it wasn’t for his mouth. Adam rubbed your hands with his thumb while chuckling. He turned the stove off and turned around, taking your face into his hands he gave you a deep kiss.

“You excited to fulfill your womanly role of being in the kitchen while you’re here?” Adam mumbled against your lips.

“…You piss me off beyond believe.” You shoved him away by his shoulders, while he laughed.

He didn’t stay away for long, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your bodies together.

“Why? You don’t wanna be my pretty little housewife? Nah, but seriously you do have to pull your weight ‘round here.” Adam pushed a few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You nodded at Adam, “Of course….I know it wouldn’t be enough but I could give you the amount of rent I pay?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “Babe, I fucking meant, like, cleaning up after yourself, cooking once in a while and hopping on my awesome dick. Well, it’s more of a bonus to be able to ride me whenever you please. I can make that pussy fucking churn, baby, you know it.”

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you simply hid away by smashing your face into Adam’s chest. His incredibly soft chest. Gliding his hands all over your body, Adam bend his neck to whisper into your ear,

“Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you let Adam fix you and him a plate. It all felt weirdly domestic.

Once you were finished, you put everything in the dishwasher while Adam made his way to the bedroom, to get dressed. You plopped down on the couch, twirling your thumbs basically. Sighing, you laid down on the couch. Adam entered the living room.

“What’s up? Stop looking all depressed and shit, we are bout to empty my fucking wallet. Aren’t woman happy to go shopping on a man’s hard earned dime?” Adam stood in-front of you, with his jacket in hand.

“I just..I can’t believe I’m homeless…..This is my biggest fear coming true. Oh my god….I’m homeless…” You covered your face with your hands and groaned loudly. You’re fucking homeless.

Adam scoffed at you, taking your hands into his own and taking them off your face.

“Baby, you’re living here now. We will put your last name on the fucking mailbox and whatever else you need. I will handle everything, sweet thing, don’t you fucking worry.” Adam grasped your knee into his hand now, shaking it slightly, “Cmon, get fucking up. I need you to lighten my wallet up.”

You stood up, nodding at Adam, “Okay, okay, let’s get going.”

Walking towards your jacket, you put it on, together with your worn out boots. Fall is a bitch and winter was even worse. Adam furrowed his brows at your clothes, he grabbed your jacket and felt your jacket lining.

“Jesus, this thin thing doesn’t do shit for you, and what the fuck’s up with your boots? Woman, we have to get you a whole new wardrobe.” He shook his head at you, like it’s your fault you’re broke.

Shopping with Adam played out as well as you thought. When Adam asked you which store you usually go to, and you said the thrift store he looked unhappy. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you all across the mall.

Unsurprisingly, his favourite place was the underwear section. When you grabbed a multi pack of basic panties, Adam looked at you like you personally ruined his life with that decision.

This whole thing was tiring, you just wanted to lay down. At least Adam had the time of is life, sending you to the dressing room and getting to play dress up doll with you. Eh, at least he isn’t bitching at you, he complains about how woman sizes are not all standardised, how the stitching is shit and how it can be that they don’t have that top, in that colour, in a bigger size. He’s in his zone. He has you try on stuff in different colours, shapes, sizes and man he’s picky as fuck.

All you wanted was a few sweatshirts, one pair of jeans and some socks and underwear. In the end you got a new fucking closet, your make up items basically replaced with the expensive version of your drug store ones, shampoo and conditioner from brands you couldn’t even pronounce, and some sanitary products. Once Adam started looking at sundresses (summer is like 6 months away??) you put your foot down and told him you wanted to go home. You weren’t sure more bags would fit on his arms and in his hands anyways, since he refuses to let you touch anything.

Standing in line at the last checkout, Adam was preoccupied looking at bras. Telling him your bra size was probably a mistake. Letting him drag you to a lingerie store was the other mistake. You felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

Pulling it out, it was a group chat call from your friends. Accepting the call, you held your phone against your ear,

“‘Yello?”

“What in Christs name is going on that you call up a storm in the middle of the night?”

You could barley understand a word, with 3 different people talking at once, but that was the gist of it.

“Uhh, nothing bad. Apartment burned down.”

“WHATTT???”

Before you could elaborate, you felt your phone being snatched out of your hand. Looking back, you saw Adam glare at your phone.

“If it isn’t the fucking Hexenzirkel!….Mind your own fucking business, everything here’s alright.” With that he hung up your phone and pocketed it. Great. Now that’s a fire you will have to put out later.

Adam herded you forward, towards a free register. He paid for everything, and then took you towards the parking garage where he left the car. Stacking everything in the backseat and trunk, you sat down at your seat. Adam got in, and he started driving home.

Calming your friends was sure a thing you had to pull off. Explaining to them what happened and why you live now with Adam, off all people, was sure something you did. With lots of interruptions. Monica and Dy both assured you that you could always crash at their apartment, in their guest room.

Well, they won’t be able to make you cum 3 times in the span of 20 minutes, so you were going to ride this out. Literally.

You already realised that living with Adam would include lots of sex. He kind of made it his mission to christen every room in his apartment. More than once.

So across a few weeks, he had you ride him on the couch, eating you out in the bathroom, bending you over the kitchen counter, having you suck his dick in the guest room and romantic missionary in his bedroom. And much more and more frequently. Trying out cock warming sadly didn’t go as well, Adam doesn’t have the self control for that, but tying him down on a chair did help with that. And it was hot as fuck.

What you didn’t take in account for was the domesticity of it all. Cooking with Adam, drying the dishes while he washes, watching shows and movies, talking about each others day at the end of the day, cuddling, sleeping in each others embrace, listening to Adam sing and play his guitar, his rambling about the girls his band and music he enjoys, showering together and washing each others hair, grocery shopping together. It’s all so soft, you didn’t really except it. It scares you.

Adam had a lot of bad qualities, like how he tries to give you a curfew, you have to change your phone password every week, you’re sure he has your phone location somehow (you really have to check your app and settings), he keeps making attempts of convincing you to quit your job, tries to dictate what you wear outside the house (all you wear rn are baggy clothes anyways, not because of Adam but because it’s cold af), he always asks you where you’re going and with who, for how long will you stay out? Should he come with you? Don’t worry, baby, he will give a lift and coincidentally stays there for as long as you. Right besides you. He hid away all the door keys?? He loves scaring you and he has a tendency to make your keys and phone disappear when you’re about to leave.

So yeah, privacy was non existent. But when your landlord sent you an email on how you should still pay rent?? Adam took your phone and told you he would take care of it and lo and behold, another email followed up saying that you don’t need to pay for shit. Who would have fucking thought. A few days after the fire you were allowed inside again, picking out whatever wasn’t fully destroyed. There wasn’t much, Adam came with you, and when you were close to crying again, he gave your head a kiss and bought you your favourite take out.

You’re pretty sure he’s trying to condition you to be dependent on him, since when he makes you cum he has a tendency to whisper to you about how you’d should cancel your lease, how you should quit (again) and how nice wouldn’t it be to be his little housewife? You’re happy you got the copper IUD, otherwise you would be pregnant right now. Since Adam is insatiable.

At the end of the day you get fed, get 8 hours of sleep and Adam tries to drive and pick you up wherever you want. So you have been throughly enjoying the past few weeks. The fact that you have to reassure your friends that you are fine and juggle Adam’s weird behaviour is just something you have to deal with.

You were close to falling asleep. Adam was laying on the couch, with you on his chest. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, while you buried your face into his neck. His one hand was under your shirt, his fingers traced heart shapes on your skin. You felt his heart thump through his chest, in a slow rhythm. The TV was playing in the background, some fucking Family Guy episode Adam picked out.

The lights started to flicker, faster and faster.

“What the fuck?” Adam sat up, looking around confused.

All the electronics were starting to go crazy, the TV switched between movies and shows, the microwave started going off, together with the fire alarm. You rubbed your eye, while yawning. Everything came to a hold when everything got shut off. You sat in the dark.

“..Huh?” Is all you could get out. Whats going on?

“Fucking fuck. Did a fucking fuse blow out on me?” Adam ushered you off his lap, you stretched your arms over your head.

“Did you forget to pay utilities? Happened to me once or twice.” You threw into the room.

Adam scoffed at that, “Did you forget or were you too broke? I pay my shit on time, don’t fucking worry about it. Fuck. I think the fuse box is out on the hallway.”

“..Both.” You made an attempt at going back to clinging to Adam, he was comfy and you were tired.

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” He chuckled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closer to him, “Need me to carry you to every fucking errand I need to run?”

You nodded at him, humming in agreement. Adam slipped his arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder, when he stood up he took you with him. Carrying you bridal style. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me! Ah! Adam!”

“Damn babe, usually you only scream my name like that when I make you cream all around me! Don’t stress yourself, you weigh nothing to me. Watch this.” Adam laughed at you, he spun you around in his arms. Then he proceeded to do squats. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. After that, the final round, he did bicep curls, using you as his weight.

“Drop me, gym bro.” You laughed at him.

“Yes, mam.” Adam suddenly let go off you for a second, or at least made it seem like that.

Your heart dropped, genuinely thinking that Adam let go off without warning. But he quickly caught you again, laughing at your screaming and horrified expression. He set you back on your feet, grinning at you.

“Chillax babe, as if I would ever drop ya.” He brushed your hair away from your face.

“Fuck off, asshole. How about we look for that fuse box? I don’t wanna live in a lightless apartment.” You hissed at him, swatting away his grabby hands. At least your eyes got adjusted to the dark.

Before Adam could answer, everything started to go crazy again. TV blaring, lights flickering, beeping and fucking sparks flying.

Adam yanked you down with him by your arm, you both were squatting behind the couch.

“Fucking hell?! What the fucks going on??”

A blazing, colourful tear appeared into the air, between the TV and couch. Man were you happy to have said couch as a shield. A high pitched tone sounded through the air, causing both you and Adam to grimace. Covering your ears, you squinted while trying to take a look at the weird slit. It was changing size and form and honestly, you weren’t too sure what you were looking at. So you just ducked behind the couch again, not wanting to know what actually was going on.

Then it just stopped. Everything was pitch black, taking a look out the window you saw that non of the lights in the other buildings were on anymore. Fucking power shut off.

“Let’s get fucking out of here befo-“ Adam started speaking, but was interrupted by a horrible sizzling sound. You were sure that the sound waves which vibrated through the air were touching your soul.

The tear appeared again, just this time in a circle form. Adam and you ducked behind the couch again, while the…thing moved and changed and screeched. It stopped. Again.

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered into the darkness, looking at Adam with big eyes.

“Uhm, fuck no, I’m not the J- Dog. I’m fucking Adam, you know? The first dick on fucking earth?”

??????

Adam and you looked at each other like you have just seen a ghost. You both shoot up from behind the couch at the same time.

What kind of creature appeared in the living room????

He’s very tall. Too tall. And big. His horns hit the ceiling, so he has to awkwardly slouch. What even is his face? Are those golden wings? How fucking big are they? Wingspan of over 9000? Whats that round thing over his head, a halo? With a weird ass robe. Oh my god. What’s even going on anymore?

“Fucking sick, you both can hide your wings and halo? How long did that take you to fucking master? A century or two?” The thing gave you both a once over, his gaze lingered on Adam’s face, but he just shook his head. A century? You weren’t even ready to continue living for another 10 years.

You reached your hand out, grasping Adam’s arm tightly. Adam’s muscles were tense and he seemed to grind his teeth, glaring at the unwanted guest. God help you.

“What? You two to fucking shocked seeing this big of a deal, huh? I totally get it. Want an autograph?”

“..We…Don’t need to….Hide our…Wings. Because we are…People…?” You decided on saying. It’s better if you speak and not Adam, since he looked close to blowing up.

The creature blinked at you, “Oh shit…Don’t fucking worry about this little incident, sugar tits, upstairs we got extra protocol for this.” He turned his huge back towards you and Adam, giving you a nice view of his glowy, golden wings.

Since your heart was starting to calm down, and you were able to think clear, the realisation creeped in that he kind sounded like Adam? Weird coincidence.

Adam’s face soured even more at the pet name, “Al-fucking-right, listen here, A-“

Grabbing Adam by the collar of his hoodie, you yanked him down. Placing your finger against your lips, to signal for him to shut up, you let him go again. It’s best if Adam does not start a fight with a whole ass angel.

Said Angel was snapping his fingers repeatedly. Each time he did, the electronics started going crazy again. All that appeared were sparks around his fingers, and where the tear was it sizzled slightly. Great.

“The fuck? Why isn’t this shit working?”

Adam crossed his arms infront of his chest, looking unhappier with every passing second. This won’t go well. You feel it in your soul.

The angel nervously threw a look over his shoulder, at you and Adam. As if any of this was your fault. Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue.

“…You sure you’re a fucking angel?” Adam spoke into the tense atmosphere.

“Yes I’m fucking sure I’m an angel! Have some fucking respect, without me non of you fuckers could be frolicking right fucking now!”

And so it starts. While the two men threw insults at each other, you tried to breath through your panic. Taking a good look at the angel, not only did he have the same voice as Adam, his face reminds you off the masks Adam’s band wears whenever they perform. Maybe….

“Take off your mask.” You decided on telling the giant. All eyes were on you now.

“Woah, bossy. And here I fucking thought you were a well trained bitch, who knows not to interrupt when the men are speaking.” Alright, you hate that guy.

He hooked his fingers under, what was finally revealed as a mask, and slipped his face out of it. Even though his hair was a mess, one thing was clear. That was Adam.

It was uncanny to watch, you were uncomfortable. It clearly felt like that they weren’t supposed to be in the same room. The only difference between their faces was that this one didn’t have any piercings, and he looked to be in his thirties. Good to know that Adam still will look hot in like 10 years. DILF. The even have the same facial expressions, and reactions to each other.

“You supposed to be some shitty alternative version of me, or what?” Adam asked, his chin in his hands and head tilted.

“Fuck no, you dumbass didn’t listen to me? I’m fucking Adam, the first man? More like my genes are alive and well in you. Good to know.” He nodded at Adam.

“Are you sure? Because his name is also Adam, and he has two ex girlfriends named Lilith and Eve. Same break up as you had…….Are we in a Bible fan-fiction? Why does everyone I know have biblical names and a fitting background?” Is your whole life a lie??

The angel simply blinked at you, then his gaze shifted towards Adam. He chuckled nervously again, once again snapping his fingers. All it did was make sparks fly and mess further with the electricity, not just in this apartment but also with every other building outside.

“Fucking stop it, shit obviously isn’t working.” Adam dragged his hand over his face, obviously exhausted.

“Well, if you can travel through space just like that, what’s really stopping you from also going through time? We basically already know that alternative universes are a thing, if we think of both timelines as water streams, going at the same speed….or time?” You put your hands infront of each other, not touching having them touch, “You must have accidentally messed something up in your travels, causing you to fall out of your stream into ours…” Moving your right hand to bump it into your left one, you imaged the angel falling and tumbling into your world.

“…That’s so cool.” You whispered under your breath, the angels wings fluffed up, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking cool, babes.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he did it all on purpose. Idiot.

Adam glared at his doppelgänger, while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and yanking you into his side. He rubbed his chin against the top of your head, like an animal marking it’s territory. You were too far into your multiversal fantasies and connecting it to your physics classes, to notice the angle smugly grinning at Adam, as if he won that round. Weird macho behaviour, which you couldn’t care less for.

“What are we fucking supposed to do now?” Adam asked, carefully.

“..Is the couch free, bro?”

[babyleostuff]

౨ৎ voicemails wen junhui leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: precious)

...one: i know you're probably sleeping already, but i just wanted to say goodnight

...two: we went on a walk around the town today, and i took some pictures for you. i'm not sure if they're good but i figured you'd like them. a few of them are really blurry though but it's only because seungkwan kept bumping into me

...three: is is too early for me to say that i miss you?

...four: i think i dozed off a bit on stage today. thank god i kept my eyes open

...five: how many pictures of me do you have in your gallery? we're trying to figure out which seventeen partner is the most whipped

...six: don't tell me yesterday's voicemail made you angry. is that why you're ignoring me? you know that at the end of the day i'm a hundred times more whipped than you. this silent treatment is killing me

...seven: call me back, please. i swear if one more person comes into my room to bother me i'm quitting. i mean it

...eight: i'm sure you didn't want to worry me when we last spoke but you sounded so sad. please call me when you're feeling upset, even in the middle of the night. i'm always here for you precious. i love you

...nine: i hope you’ll have the best day tomorrow. it’s saturday so sleep lots, eat something good, and remember to rest. i’ll call you again in the evening

...ten: i bought something for you but i’m not sure if they’ll pass me through the security check at the airport with it

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[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [8].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, vomit, heeseung is sick, tormenting said sick man, sex jokes, and loser hee backstory reveal. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.

NOTE. merry christmas. my gift for u all is the heeseung chapter. let's pretend that it's still summer for the sake of the fic yes thank u hope u enjoy.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 8 — hot, drenched, and sweaty.

“I THINK HEESEUNG IS IN A FIGHT CLUB.” That unprompted statement catches the interest of all the four boys currently in the living room. Soobin looks up from his half-finished crocheted bonnet, Jake and Jay pause their game of scrabble, and Sunghoon drops a rubik’s cube on your face because you gallantly decided to use his lap as a pillow on the lounge sofa. 

“Oh god, I’m— I’m sorry,” he sputters out an apology. You take this as a sign to stop invading his space. “What do you mean though? Fight club? Heeseung?”

“Listen.”

You spring up from your position, sitting with a very determined look on your face which simply prompts their attention further. “Heeseung leaves the house at exactly 10 p.m. every Saturday night and comes back at like two in the morning. I asked him about is once, and all he said is that he’s doing ‘business,’ whatever the fuck that means. It’s suspicious as hell.” 

The only reason why you were up at 2 a.m. to catch him in the act in the first place is because one time, you challenged Beomgyu and Jake to a no-sleeping contest and those two are the most gullible and have the most money from the lot. Little did those suckers know that you slept for fifteen hours prior to challenging them. They dozed off at the thirty six hour mark while you were still awake enough to catch Heeseung sneaking into the house at the devil’s hour.

After that, you had more money in your bank account, and a new curiosity that’s begging to be satisfied.

“I think he’s in an underground fighting club,” you declare. “There’s no other reason.”

“No, no,” Jay contends. “It might be something else. He could be a stripper.”

A silent moment of consideration.

Then you all release a unified, “Nah.”

“Maybe it’s private,” says Sungoon. “What—whatever it is, it could be none of our business.”

He has a point, but you’re nosy and bored. So are Jake and Jay because turns out, today’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and you’re acquitted from any charges of instigating things because it’s Jay who announces, “Should we follow him?”

You grin. Sunghoon doesn’t approve of your expression. “We should follow him.”

“I’ll keep a lookout.”

“Text us when he’s about to leave.”

“You got it.”

Thus starts your mission of finding out whether Heeseung is secretly an underground fighter or a stripper. Sunghoon refused to be a part of it, but Soobin wasn’t strong enough to deny your puppy dog eyes, so it’s you, him, Jake, and Jay who might be charged for stalking and invasion of privacy because the moment you get a signal from Jake that “the target is out of the house, over,” the four of you, willingly or otherwise, start to tail him.

It’s disconcertingly easy to follow Heeseung without him noticing the four not so discreet people lagging behind him. When he takes off on a bus, you quickly hail a taxi for the four of you to jump inside of and continue the trail. 

“I think—I think we should head back,” says Soobin, squeezing his arms against his torso because there are three of you cramped in the backseat. “The sky is glum. I think it’s gonna rain.”

“The sky is glum because it’s the fucking night. Mr. Sun has died. Wait, he just got off the bus. Let’s go, let’s go before we lose him!”

As you stalk down the sidewalk, you can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu because you swear you’ve crossed this same path before. You’ve been here before. You’re sure of it, and it’s not just because this area is just around your university, of which you haven’t stepped foot on since the beginning of summer and since living with Jake and his friends.

“Hey, he’s over there, he’s going to that cafe.”

Your deja vu is answered when the familiar facade of The Lounge shows up right before you. Heeseung enters the building. Sunghoon knew all along, that fucking rat. That’s why was so against this plot, that’s why he refused to tag along with you. “I’m going in,” says Jay. You postpone your revenge plan against Sunghoon for later and quickly follow behind Jay into the cafe. Once you enter however, it starts pouring.

The clear glass windows of the place get stained by an assault of raindrops. Crap. None of you brought an umbrella. “I knew it was going to rain…” Soobin laments, and you pat circles against his back to apologize for doubting him, further telling him that he has a knack for weather prediction and if he’s considering switching career paths.

“What now?” Jake asks.

“We can wait for the rain to stop or call Sunghoon to pick us up and bring us umbrellas,” you tell them. “For now, let’s find out what the fuck Lee Heeseung is up to here. This wasn’t part of any of our calculations.” The calculations being either violence or promiscuity. You didn’t make a lot of calculations.

The problem is, Heeseung is nowhere to be found. You end up ordering some drinks and food and decide to settle in a booth at the corner of the place so that you guys can have a full and complete view of the cafe’s entire interior, yet you still can’t find him, so you end up reminiscing the time Sunghoon dumped your lemonade on you which catapulted your hobby of messing with these guys because they become so nervous around you it’s funny.

“Did we enter the wrong building? Did he catch us tailing him and left through the back door?!” 

You doubt Jake’s presumptions, and you’re correct to doubt him because right at that moment, Heeseung finally shows his stupid fucking face.

Not only does he show his stupid fucking face— he shows his stupid fucking face on the mini stage in the other corner of the cafe with a freaking guitar. What? So he’s not an underground fighter? Heeseung leans into the mic and a singular “ah,” resounds from the speakers mounted on the walls, muting down the muffled sound of the rain outside in that single instant.

When Heeseung starts to play the instrument followed by the sound of his voice, the rain is forgotten entirely.

This is a surprise. This is unexpected.

“This is disappointing,” says Jay, and you snap your head at him with eyes wide in alarm and disbelief because what does he mean disappointing? Disappointing where? You’ve been living with an angel all this time and you didn’t know? 

“Yeah, it’d be cooler if he was in a fight club,” Jake adds, as if their friend isn’t putting the Billboard’s Hot 100 to shame right now. What kind of bullshit are they saying?

“Did you guys know he could sing like that?”

The three look at you, even Soobin, and respond with a yes, a nod, a hum. Your mouth gapes. But you don’t get why you’re surprised when these guys have known each other for years prior to you barging in unannounced— so, of course they know, of course you don’t, and in the midst of all this, your thoughts are interrupted by the sharp screech from the speakers, because Heeseung has stopped singing, and is instead now looking at your table, looking more alarmed than you.

You’re pretty sure your eyes met before he decided to bolt out of the cafe.

“Oh, he’s getting off stage. Maybe he’s going to greet u— why is he skipping our table? Why is he running outside? Hyung, wait!”

None of you end up chasing after him because it’s still pouring outside, and you can already predict what the aftermath of this is going to be. Thus concludes your mission of finding out whether or not Heeseung is secretly an underground fighter or a stripper, with the answer amounting to neither because Heeseung is a performer during The Lounge’s open mic nights, and you don’t get why he’s been acting so secretive about it all this time.

Heeseung wakes up feeling like shit. And not the regular kind of shit. He feels like Satan just chewed him up, only to spit him back out— slobber and the inferno’s of hell included because he’s sweating through his shirt, his blanket feels like a prison, but if he kicks it of, he gets attacked by cold flashes, so he’s in a sticky and uncomfortable limbo between overheating and freezing to fucking death.

His throat is dry. The only thing that escapes his throat is a guttural and inhuman rasp. He wouldn’t be this sick if he didn’t run out in the rain last night. 

Rather, he wouldn’t have ran out if you weren’t there last night.

Heeseung rolls to his side with a groan of pain and anguish, muffled against the pillow as a different kind of fevered heat washes over his face. Seriously. Why the fuck were you there last night? He could give less than two shits if his roommates find out that he sings Taylor Swift every weekend at The Lounge, but you— you’re a different story. Because he knows you’re gonna use this information against him somehow, just like how you like to fuck around with his friends.

Too much. Heeseung has always thought you were a bit too much for him. The time you chased Beomgyu around the house in the dress(?) Jay made is the only evidence he needs to affirm that.

Then again, maybe he shouldn’t have bolted out like that immediately after meeting your eyes. You already suspect that you gross him out (which, by the way, couldn’t be more wrong) for always running away from the threat of skin-to-skin contact with you. Why was it raining when it’s still summer, anyway? It’s like that night was a curse made especially for him.

He curls up further into a ball, hoping you just forget about it all and don’t question him about it.

Yet the very opposite happens because what interrupts his spiraling thoughts is the sound of your voice— already threatening a wave of torment.

“Oh, god. You’re in a worse state than I thought.”

Heeseung regrets springing up from his bed because his head immediately gets slammed by the recoil of a headache. “Why...why are you here?” he barely scratches out. You’re by the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes laced with pity. He didn’t even hear the door opening. 

“Jake told me about your illness,” you say, walking over to the side of his bed and Heeseung flinches back the moment you set yourself down on the mattress. “He said you have a chronic case of bitchless syndrome.

He looks at you. Your face is dead serious. Heeseung feels a drop of sweat trickling down his neck, then you break into that devious smile of yours and laugh out a grin.

“Kidding. Jake would never say that. He told me you were sick and needed someone to nurse you up, so here I am.”

Holy shit. Heeseung lets out a breath, nearly teetering off his bed to maintain a comfortable enough distance from your overwhelming presence. “Why—” some throat phlegm cuts him off. He lets out a violent cough before reclaiming his voice. “Why you? I—I mean, why did Jake ask you?”

“Ouch?” you remark. “No one else is around. Jake’s out hiking, apparently. Sunghoon’s covering someone’s shift. Beomgyu’s obviously still at his parents. Jay says he’s out on a mission, and Soobin left the house with a giant backpack. I was too afraid to ask. Anyway, I know my very physical presence disgusts you, but deal with it for now, you goober. You look like hell.”

“That’s— that’s not—” You take this opportunity to pull his sweaty blanket off in one swift movement. “That’s not it! You don’t— don’t disgust me, I’m just— you know—”

“I know, I just wanted to fuck with you.”

You’re grinning. You haphazardly fold the sheet before throwing it down to the foot of the bed, sitting over it. Heeseung feels the blood drain from his face— “Anyway, sit up and let me feel you up,” —only for the blood to shoot right back up and nearly knocks him out unconscious. “Feel your temperature up, perv. I’m not taking advantage of a sick man. C’mere, let me see how sick you are.”

Heeseung, however, still has enough marbles to quickly evade your incoming hand. He swerves to the right. You blink at him, arm reaching out to thin air, before trying again, only for Heeseung to swat your hand away with gritted teeth and fearing for his life. “S—sorry,” he chokes out. He sees the glint in your eyes. Crap. He shouldn’t have done that.

“For fuck’s sake, just let me check your temperature— Heeseung! What the hell?!”

“Just—just leave me alone!”

Earlier, Heeseung thought he was about to die. He didn’t think he had enough strength to fight for his life as he squirms underneath you on the bed, driven solely by the desire to protect his fucking pride because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you touch him when he’s all gross and sweaty and gross from the fever. There’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen.

“What are you—”

He yanks out his blanket from underneath you, causing you to roll of his bed and he throws the sheet over his red, hot, and burning face because holy fuck. Holy shit. That was a close call.

When he peeks out from the blanket, Heeseung instantaneously feels a threat to his life.

You’re glaring at him. You look like you want to skin him alive and he gulps and nudges himself away, ass nearly falling off the bed when you get up from the floor and dust yourself off. “Okay,” you huff. “Fine. Have it your way. Die from a heatstroke, or whatever the fuck. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, and if you do, I’m expecting you to get down on your knees and beg because every time you’ve swatted my hand away was an additional jab at my pride.”

Okay, damn. You leave his room, not without slamming his door close to emphasize your anger, and on top of feeling like absolute crap, Heeseung now also feels guilty as hell. 

“Fuck,” he rasps out. It’s not like he’s doing it out of malice, or hate, or because he thinks you’re a germ that he cannot touch, like you always accuse him with. Heeseung still remembers how his whole no touching quirk started: sixteen years-old, when Heeseung finally mustered the courage to hold his first girlfriend’s hand, only for her to laugh and joke and pull away while saying, “ew, gross. Your hand is all sweaty.”

Twenty-two year old Heeseung has been traumatized to this very day.

Especially now when he’s all disgusting and icky and very much ew and gross because of his fever. Stupid, he knows, but the last thing he’d want to see is a disgusted grimace from your face the moment the back of your hand presses against his damp and sticky, sickness-induced forehead. However, it seems like he’s been inflicting to you the very injury he’s been trying to protect himself by constantly avoiding the threat of contact of your skin against his.

Stupid. It’s really stupid. 

But he can’t avoid dehydration by simply ignoring the dryness of his mouth. With much struggle, Heeseung forces himself out of the bed, despairing the amount of stairs he has to climb down— and the suggestion of calling for you help does tease his brain for a split second, but decides against it with a shake of his head as he continues the awful trip to the living room, body weighing thirty times heavier, and skull feeling like it’s about to crack itself open.

The problem is, his skull does almost end up getting cracked open. Because as he’s finally nearing the bottom floor, he misses a step, causing him to hit the ground with a harsh thud.

“Ugh,” he grunts, pushing himself with his forearms, but he stops, nearly face planting into the floor once more because you’re there, you’re walking up to him, looking down at him, and holding a cold and refreshing glass of water above his head like some sort of fucked up display of powerplay against a sick and thirsty man.

“Need any help?” you hum. 

“I’m fine,” Heeseung tries once more to get up only to feel the nausea rise up to his head, and he stops, pauses, and decides that the floor is more comfortable after all. He looks up at you. “Can I...can I get a sip from your glass?”

There’s a glint in your eyes. You crouch down. “Sorry, what was that?”

Are you enjoying this? Do you like watching him in pain? (Likely answer is yes because you yourself have admitted that you enjoy their suffering and torment). “Water,” he rasps out. “Can I drink some of your water?”

“This?” You swirl the glass in your hand, ice clacking against the crystal, before taking a long, tortuous sip on the straw (why does it have a straw?) Heeseung swallows down his spit. “Say please,” you say with a smile. Heeseung chokes on said fucking spit and hacks out a cough because you’re fucking insane.

He feels his face grow hotter. And it’s definitely not just from the fever.

“P—please, give me some of your water.”

You don’t prolong his agony any further and hand him over the glass.

“Need any help getting up?” you ask as you watch him agonizingly sit up against the bottom steps and toss down the water into his throat in one shot as if it was at a company dinner. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and feels your disappointed stare pricking his conscience. “I can’t help you unless you ask me to, Heeseung.”

He frowns, deflating. “But I’m all gross and sweaty.”

The last thing he expects you to do is to roll your eyes at him and stand up with an arm stretched out. 

And the next thing he knows is that you’re lugging him over to the couch, an arm around his waist, his around your shoulder, and you set him down the cushions with a grunt. “Jeez, I’m not made for manhandling men,” you say, very dubiously. “Lie down.” And when he doesn’t lie down, wide-eyed and unresponsive, you poke his forehead and he tips back, falling into the couch.

What…what is going on...

“You know, I’m very tempted to ask you to take your shirt off just to laugh at your reaction, but you actually look like you’re about to die, so I decided against it. Aren’t I sweet?” 

You’re back with a basin and some towels (when did you disappear?) and Heeseung’s brain starts malfunctioning, growing dizzier and dizzier by the second when you touch his jaw, damp towel wiping off the sweat coating his face and neck and he feels his throat tightening. “Christ. I think your temp is over forty degrees, my guy,” you say, squeezing the towel over the basin. “Hello? Heeseung? What the hell, did you catch Sunghoon’s disease? Are you unable to talk to me now, too?”

“It’s—it’s not that,” he chokes out. He’s about to justify himself, but you press your palm against his forehead, cutting off all the oxygen pipes leading up to his brain, and he feels like passing the fuck out.

Shit. Shit. Holy shit. 

“Ah,” you say. “You’re not running away.”

He’s not. He’s not running away. But he feels a different sort of problem coming up.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

You blink at him. This doesn’t help his case at all.

“Wow, this is an upgrade,” you say from the other side of the bathroom door while Heeseung pukes his guts out into the toilet. Heavy metal playing from his phone is trying to block the noises out. He’s heaving over the bowl and wants to kill himself from embarrassment. “Now my very presence makes you vomit. I’m sorry for everything so far.”

There’s a flush. The music stops. Heeseung cracks the door open and you pass him a glass of water without some bedroom-esque powerplay this time. “Seriously, why did you run off into the rain last night? Look where it got you.” It’s a shocker that you haven’t told him he’s gross yet. You’re standing there in front of the bathroom and in front of the mess of his post-vomit presence, and all you’re doing is looking at him in worry. 

“I wasn’t expecting you guys to be there,” he says, still sounding like death, and you take the now empty glass from him and head over to the kitchen, pointing at his makeshift deathbed on the couch. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to give Mariah Carey a run for her money, either.” After you place the glass into the sink, you’re back to the living room. He’s down on the sofa, eyelids heavy, unable to say or do anything when you push back his hair to place a damp towel on his forehead. “Like damn, I knew you guys have known each other for a while now, but I totally felt like an outsider when I was the only one surprised to hear you sing.”

You’re not making fun of him. You don’t make a comment about how sticky his skin feels or how gross his sweat-drenched shirt is.

“I like your voice. Too bad it sounds like shit right now, but you should let me hear you again once you feel better.” The doorbell rings. “Oh, right, I ordered some porridge. You can feed yourself, right? Hold on, let me get it.”

He hears your footsteps padding across the floor, unable to find the strength to open his eyes as the coolness of the cloth seeps into his forehead. Heeseung has always thought you were a bit too much— case in point, everything that just happened and all the other times you’ve teased, tormented, and actively tortured to the point of tears all the inhabitants of this god forsaken house. 

Yet it is also your excessive nature that has let Sunghoon speak more than five words around you, that has stopped Beomgyu from hermitting in his room twenty-four-seven, that has helped Soobin and Jay in two very important instances this summer, and has allowed Jake to offer you a spot in their lives after leaving that room on the third floor empty for a good two years.

“Fuck, I can’t believe they left me behind with a sick man when I can barely even take care of myself.”

You’re back. He opens his eyes and tries to lift himself up but his body is way too heavy. “Uh,” he says. “Can you…please…open the container for me?” He doesn’t miss your amused fucking grin when he mumbles out the please.

“Ah. Open up.”

Heeseung has always felt you were too much. Maybe it’s his fever talking, maybe it’s not, but maybe too much exactly what he needs right now.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 11 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica finally tells someone what happened with Brian, and maybe Jake would be just as understanding if she told him. With the fraternity fundraiser a few days away, her nerves start getting the best of her, but Jake continues to show how effortlessly he can make her happy.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, frat boys 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica felt so much better and yet emotionally drained at the same time. She spent almost thirty minutes telling her friend what happened with Brian, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that the other woman wasn't judgmental in the least. When Jessica was finally done talking, she sank back in her chair and fixed her glasses.

"So, yeah... that's why he's holding a grudge. That's why he won't give me tenure even though I deserve it."

She was met with a stony expression. "Just say the word, and Conley is going down. Have you... mentioned this to Jake?"

"No," Jessica replied immediately, her skin itching at the thought. "No."

"You should," she replied slowly. "I think he'd be surprisingly attentive, and I say that a bit begrudgingly."

Jessica cracked a smile as she grabbed her empty tupperware container and stood. "I'll think about it, Dr. Tits." She left the office to the sound of genuine laughter, but by the time she got back to her office, she felt exhausted. It wasn't fair that Brian had taken up so much space in her brain for so long. When Jake texted her and let her know he couldn't make it to her office hours, she felt almost relieved. 

The fraternity fundraiser was this Saturday, and she'd planned everything out as much as she could. Everything was checked off her list, and she was going to meet with the Kappa Pi students at their house on Wednesday evening. The only thing she hadn't done was log into the university portal and see how many tickets had sold for the event. 

Alumni weekend was a huge deal, and it was well attended and advertised, but she was still dreading checking. So she finished all of her classes for the afternoon and then ducked into the lounge to make herself a cup of coffee before her office hours started. 

She looked up as someone else entered, and it was Brian's teaching assistant. The one he was almost definitely sleeping with. "Hi," she said cautiously.

Jessica just nodded at her. She wanted to warn this poor girl, but it was obvious that Brian had her in a similar position to which Jessica had been in last school year. Plus, she already knew he'd make sure both women paid the price if she did. 

It was with tears in her eyes that Jessica returned to her office. That hopeful feeling from lunch was gone now, and she really wished Jake was able to stop by today after all. She plopped down at her desk and decided to just log in and see how poorly her ticket sales had gone. 

"Holy shit," she muttered, nearly spilling her coffee. Over one hundred tickets had sold, and the event was still days away. "Oh my god." Tears welled up in her eyes as she did the math quickly in her head. Her event would make over five thousand dollars for the school. Hopefully the fraternity house would be able to hold that capacity.

When her phone vibrated on her desk, she was startled from her thoughts.

Jake Seresin: I miss you too much. I can't stay long, but I'll be there in ten.

She didn't even bother to respond, but she was waiting by the open door for him when he rushed down the hallway. "Jake," she said with a soft laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. He was still wearing his flight suit, and he was a little out of breath. 

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips, and that made her a little bit out of breath as well. One big hand slid down to her butt as he said, "We had late training days sprung on us for today and tomorrow, and I volunteered to pick up dinner. I talked them into the Thai restaurant down the block from here." Then he froze as Jessica ran her fingers along his patches. "Were you crying? It looks like you were crying."

She shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, but it's not bad." She smiled more as Jake kissed along her cheeks. "A ton of tickets sold for my event on Saturday."

"How many?" he asked, looking at her with pride. 

"Over one hundred."

"Damn, you're good, Baby."

Jessica was looking up at his handsome features and his sexy smirk while he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lazily along her bottom lip. She kissed his thumb before licking him, and when his eyes went wide, she laughed. "You can't stay?"

He shook his head. "I'll come back on Thursday. We can go to Chippy's after your office hours?"

"Yeah," she replied, tracing his HANGMAN patch. She could already hear Luca's skateboard on the tiled hallway floor, so she needed to be quick. "Do you want to sleep over on Friday night at my place? We could head to the event from there on Saturday? I could... show you the lingerie in my closet?"

Jake groaned softly, and goosebumps rippled down her neck as he asked, "Will you let me pick out something pretty for you to wear?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she pressed her lips to his neck. "Anything you want."

"Yes," he gasped, and then you heard Luca whistle.

"Get it, Dr. Reed," he said as he kicked his skateboard up into his hand. "Want me to come back later?"

"No," Jessica said as she disentangled herself from Jake's wandering hands while she blushed. "He was just leaving," she said. Then she looked up at Jake's green eyes and wide pupils. "You were just leaving."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he kissed her lips softly and said, "Call me later tonight. I'll see you on Thursday."

She watched him rush back toward the elevator before she closed her door behind her. "How many times do I have to remind you not to skate in the hallways?"

"Sorry, Dr. Reed."

"Get out your notebook."

-----------------------

When Jessica heard a knock on her office door on Wednesday around dinnertime, she called out, "It's open." Really, she was on her way to the Kappa Pi house, and she hadn't left herself much time to deviate from her agenda. Hopefully whoever this was would make it quick, but then she smiled when she realized who it was. "Advanced Calculus. What's up?"

"Just wondering if you were looking for someone to tag along? I speak fluent 'frat boy', and Bradley is training late with Jake."

Jessica was shocked into silence for a beat. "Yeah. I would love that. I'm actually a little nervous about meeting them."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You've got boobs and a pretty face. They'll be eating out of your hand, literally doing whatever you want them to."

"I'm not so sure," she replied with apprehension. But when they walked across campus to the old Victorian fraternity house with KAPPA PI on the front of it and knocked, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. 

A lanky guy with bad acne opened the door, and his eyes bugged out as he looked between the two women. "Dr. Reed?" he asked in awe. 

"Yes, that's me," Jessica replied, reaching out to shake his head before introducing him to the other professor. When he made no move to do anything except stare at them, she asked, "Can we come in?"

"Y-Yes. I'm James by the way."

Jessica led the way inside, and she was pleasantly surprised again. The front foyer opened up to a rather cavernous living room and dining room. There were beautiful hardwood floors and rich paint colors and a fireplace. The house was clean, and she was sure the kegs and tables would fit inside without issue once the furniture was moved out onto the back lawn. 

"Your house is so clean! Where are your fraternity brothers?" the other woman asked, and James blushed bright pink. 

A few minutes later, there was a lineup of a dozen or so guys staring at the two women. Their expressions ranged from surprise to bewilderment, but there were two on the end who looked like they just won the lottery. 

"Okay, hi. I'm Dr. Reed from the physics department, and I actually recognize a few of you. Calvin?" she asked, smiling at one of them. "From last semester?" He waved awkwardly back at her. "Right, well, I'm your advisor for the alumni event this weekend. I have a list of things you need to do before Saturday at six o'clock." She started passing out copies to each of them as she read off the list. "Move the furniture. Clean the kitchen. Fill the keg barrels with ice. And so on. Any questions?"

Five hands shot up, and Jessica stepped back in surprise. "Here it comes," Advanced Calculus muttered as Jessica pointed to the smirking guy at the end. 

He nodded at Jessica and asked, "If I switch my major to physics, will you be teaching all the classes?"

"Um, no," she answered, shaking her head in confusion. Then she pointed at the one next to him who had his hand raised.

"Do either of you need a date for Saturday night?" he asked eagerly. 

Jessica snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. She was about to answer when her friend said, "Both of our dates are in the military. And they're jacked. And they're mean."

A chorus of boos and groans filled the space, and Jessica had to try her best to answer the relevant questions without laughing. She showed the boys where to move the furniture, and she inspected the kitchen. Then she checked to see if there was enough room for the string quartet next to the stairs. She was determined to deliver on the elevated frat boy aesthetic since so many people seemed excited about it. 

"I think we're done for the day," Jessica told the guys with a smile as they fought over who got to escort the two of them back to the front door. "My email address is at the bottom of the list if you need to contact me for anything." A bunch of hands shot up in the air, and she added, "Anything pertaining to the event. If you try to ask me out again, I'm just going to delete the emails."

The guys lowered their hands and mumbled goodbye as the women stepped back out onto the silent porch. "Jessica, all those boys are going to sign up for your lectures next semester. I guarantee it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "No, they won't. If anything they'd sign up for yours!"

But she was laughing as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk, and Jessica followed behind her in her high heels. "Just wait until Jake sees the twenty one year old kids with acne trying to flirt with you. He'll get jealous and pouty, I can practically see it now."

Jessica scoffed. "No, he won't! And didn't you meet Bradley when he was twenty one years old and in a frat?"

She froze on the sidewalk as that familiar blue Bronco parked on the next block up. "I sure did. And prepare yourself. Bradley is going to be insufferable on Saturday night."

-----------------------

Jake could only really focus on Jessica. After that brief couple of minutes in her office before Luca arrived on Tuesday, he was sweating it out until he could get home and jerk off. He came all over his hands in the shower as he thought about coating up her glasses instead. 

Now it was Thursday morning, and he leaned against the shower wall and thought about what kind of lingerie she might have in her closet. He hoped there was a little bit of everything. He could imagine her in something soft and white, almost ethereal. He could just as easily picture her in some leather with a riding crop. His groan filled the glass shower enclosure as he wrapped his hand around his cock again. 

He realized by the time he finally started getting dressed that he was going to be late if he didn't seriously get a move on. He was just buttoning his uniform shirt when his phone lit up on his bed. Jessica had sent him an image. His fingers abandoned the buttons so quickly to grasp for his phone. And holy shit, his hot girlfriend sent him a picture of a dark purple lace bra and thong laid out on what must have been her light blue bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as he glared down at his cock. He really didn't have time to get hard again right now. But... he was curious, so he wrote back. 

You wearing that today, Jess?

She didn't respond until Jake had parked his new truck on base, but this time, she sent an up close photo of the tops of her breasts hugged by purple lace. He was practically drooling as he ran for the locker room with his bag.

Keep 'em coming, Baby.

He decided to keep his phone on him. It would be worth getting reprimanded. She sent him a handful of filthy looking photos as the day progressed, but it still wasn't enough. She must have taken a bunch of them in the morning before she left for campus, and Jake was so thankful. 

He had to adjust his uniform pants several times that evening when he walked from his truck to her office. On his way into the building, he passed a delighted looking Bradshaw and his wife on their way out. She was practically hanging off of him as they walked, and Jake heard her softly ask, "Okay fuckboy, you want me to get your Beta Gamma paddle out when we get home?"

Bradley froze and met Jake's eyes as his cheeks started turning pink. "Hangman," he grunted, and his wife spun to face Jake with a coy smile. 

"Hi, Jake," she sang as she reached for her husband's hand. "See you on Saturday night."

It was hard to still feel jealous of what they had when Jake knew what was waiting for him a few floors up. He took off toward the elevators, and then he walked as quickly as he physically could to Jessica's office. Two taps on her door, and she was pulling it open for him. He did the briefest glance around the room to make sure she was alone before he closed the door and backed her up against it. 

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" he whispered, his voice sounding a little harsh as he smiled softly at her. But his smile vanished immediately when he felt her hand run slowly across his thigh before she cupped his length through his khakis. 

"I just thought I'd keep you entertained while you were at work." She gave him a little squeeze, and Jake bucked against her hand. He glanced down to see that her soft sweater was the same purple color as her underwear, and she had on a little black skirt and black heels. He kissed her forehead and then her nose as he grabbed her ass with one hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear with the other. 

"You kept me hard while I was at work. That's what you did, Professor Reed." Jake wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed along her jaw softly. She gasped as he used his other hand to slowly bunch her skirt up until he could feel the round of her bare ass cheek in his hand. 

"Jake," she whined, making it sound like three syllables instead of one as her hands slid up and around his neck. He kept his hand on her neck gentle and his kisses light as he grabbed her ass and slipped his fingers inside the back of her thong. "Jake!"

Her hands were grasping at his hair as he kissed her ear and rubbed his erection against her sweet body. "You're gorgeous. You drove me crazy all day. You know that? You did it on purpose?"

"Yes," she gasped as he sucked gently on her neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. 

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he panted. "You gonna let me see that pretty purple set?"

Her voice was an obscene whine that left him grinding against her harder as she moaned, "Yes!"

And he couldn't help himself as he pressed the softest kisses along her jaw and ear and asked, "You gonna let me fuck you hard on your desk?"

Jessica's eyes were wide, and her glasses had gone crooked on her face, but he kissed her lips after she said, "Yes." Her hand reached out to press the lock on her door, and then Jake carried her to her desk and set her on the edge. Her eyes already looked blissed out as she spread her thighs wide and hooked both of her feet around his calves, pulling him closer. 

He tipped her chin up so she was looking at him, and then he took both of her soft thighs in his hands as she kept eye contact. "I'm crazy about you," he murmured as he pressed himself against her core. Then she pulled her sweater up and over her head before tossing it to the floor. Now her glasses were really crooked, and her hair was a mess as she reached for the fly of his pants. Jake was lost to the feel of her hand gripping his length as she pushed his pants down. Then she released him and leaned back on both of her palms with her lace covered tits thrust alluringly toward him.

"Fuck me," she commanded in her teaching voice. "Fuck me hard on my desk."

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, guiding his hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric up until that little skit was around her waist. When he tugged her damp thong to the side, he was treated to the sight of her wet pussy all ready to go. She ran her high heels up and down his thighs until he grabbed her behind the knees and thrust himself deep. 

Jessica's jaw dropped open as Jake held her legs in his hands and fucked her hard, his thrusts relentless as she started to whine. He gritted his teeth, the obscene slapping sounds of his body meeting hers filling the room as he watched her pussy take him. Her tits were bouncing beautifully each time he filled her, and she just kept getting louder. 

"Someone's gonna hear you," he warned, his voice a growl as he braced his feet a little wider apart on the floor. "Someone's gonna come knocking if you're not quieter, Jess."

She pressed her lips together and whimpered loudly in response as he continued to fuck her, rocking his hips into her body, his balls slapping her ass. Maybe he just didn't give a fuck if someone heard. Maybe Jake didn't care who knew that he was getting Jessica off on her desk right now. This was his girl, and she was a professional teaser. Even the way she was gripping him so tight with each stroke was too much. Her body was made for him, the way she responded to him like this. 

"Jake," she keened, extending the syllables once more as he ran his hand down her calf and lifted her leg so he could kiss her ankle. The shift in position had her squeezing around him while she eased herself onto her back. Jake watched her lace covered tits bounce as her hands grappled for something to grab onto. She held the edge of her desk as she came undone for him. A few more sharp thrusts, and Jake pushed himself deep, filling her up with his cum. And once again, when he withdrew himself, he got to watch the mess he made drip down her ass only to collect on her thong before dripping to the desk.

When Jake looked up along her body, Jessica had herself propped up on her elbows with a serene smile and crooked glasses. He leaned down over her and kissed her. "I got a little carried away," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and squeezed her thigh. 

She looked impossibly sweet as he fixed her glasses, and she said, "I plan on getting carried away with you tomorrow night when you sleepover." 

He devoured her mouth, but the kisses turned lazy and unhurried. Eventually Jake helped her sit up again on the edge of her desk, and he took in the sight of her rucked up skirt, purple bra and his cum between her thighs. "Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll take you to Chippy's."

"Sex on my desk and Chippy's? Today just keeps getting better," she said with a laugh as Jake grabbed some tissues from her shelf and wiped up her desk and picked up her sweater. Once she was in his arms, he pulled her shirt over her head and helped her wiggle her skirt back down. 

When he zipped up his pants, he told her, "Why don't you grab a journal or two to take with us? We can read it together over some Sam Adams and peanuts."

Jessica's eyes lit up, and she actually clapped her hands. It was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen in his life, and he watched as she clicked across her floor on her heels to the shelf. "I love that," she murmured. "Great idea, Jake."

He loved it, too. He loved everything about her. She was so smart and beautiful, but she was funny, too. She wasn't clingy, and she had a fascinating career. She didn't need him around, but she seemed to light up when he was, and that's what left Jake a little breathless as she turned and looked at him with two journals in her hand. "You ready?"

Jake kissed the slight bruise he left on her neck on the ride down the elevator. When the doors opened, Brian Conley was there arguing with a young woman, and he felt Jessica tense up in his arms. "It's okay," Jake murmured against her hair. Even though her posture remained a little rigid, she let him take her by the hand and walk out into the lobby, and Jake absorbed the glare that Brian shot their way so Jessica didn't have to. 

He'd had just about enough of that asshole, and the next time he witnessed Brian being a dick or if he heard his girlfriend complain about him again, Jake was probably going to lose it. But as soon as they were inside the dive bar, Jake noticed that her shoulders seemed less tense, and she smiled as soon as Chippy waved to her. 

"Hey, Reedy."

"Hi, Chippy."

He started pouring two pints as he shot Jake the look of warning that he'd become accustomed to; it was almost a part of the experience now. But the bar was absolutely packed tonight, and Jessica held his hand a little tighter as she stepped around peanut shells on the sticky floor. There was only one high top table free with only one stool at it. 

Jake kissed Jessica's cheek and nudged her in that direction. "Grab the table while I get the beer and peanuts?" She took off in that direction, and Jake headed for the bar. 

"So. You're here to stay then?" a disgruntled Chippy asked as he shoved a bowl of peanuts next to the pint glasses. 

Jake tried to reel in his surprised laugh. "Yes, sir. I'm not going anywhere."

Chippy grunted as he took the twenty dollar bill from Jake and made change for him. He slid the bills across the bar but kept his hand on them. "If I so much as see you with another woman or see tears in that girl's eyes," he said, nodding toward Jessica, "you'll never see the inside of this bar again."

Jake waited for him to pick up his hand, and then he took all of the bills except for a few singles. "Understood." Then he could tell he'd been dismissed when Chippy started waiting on the group next to him, so he took everything back to the table where Jessica was perched on the stool. 

"Literally all of the seats are being used," she told him, but Jake set everything down and then pulled her into his arms.

"Just means I get to hold you, then." He sat and then helped her onto his lap, and she settled on his thigh while he kissed her cheek and the side of her neck. "This is perfect."

Her cheeks were a little flushed, and Jake could smell himself on her as he wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand settle on her hip. This gorgeous woman was wearing panties soaked with his cum and calmly opening one of the physics journals to share an article with him. "Oh, you'll like this one," she told him, smiling over her shoulder before pointing out the title on the page. She thought he was smart, and she seemed to like having him around outside of bedroom activities, too.

"I'm sure I will," he replied, kissing her shoulder as he listened to her tell him about jet propulsion in a newly designed aircraft.

------------------------

Intelligent, self aware Jake is ruining me a little bit. Brian is a dank ass little bitch. Please send asks if you'd like to see a certain type of lingerie in her closet. Frat fundraiser is up next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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[bloodymiso]

★ dude, its just groceries — various x gn reader

how do they buy groceries? do they go to the convenience store every weekend and buy in small batches? or do they go to a big grocery like every 5 months and hoard?

notes: this has been in my drafts for a while lmao | mentions of food(duh), mention of a doctor’s appointment, one or two swears

— in small batches

convenience store lunches, little trips every saturday, small fridge in a small apartment—that was their life. coming home after a long day of work, popping by the tiny store outside your home to grab a sandwich or two and boom! dinner was that easy. living with a little store outside their home was literal heaven.

“awh shucks, we’re out of pudding..” they pout as they turn to you on the bed, upside down and legs on the headboard.

“do we even have anything for dinner?” you ask, turning your head to them as they shook their head. you both pause, a knowing look evident on both of your faces.

“convenience store dinner! last one there pays!” you say as both of you shot up, racing to get to the door as you fought to open it. they sneaked under your arms and through the door , once you got out, they were halfway to the elevator. (or to the store.)

“you little—augh!”

VENTI, ga ming, kazuha, kaveh, GOROU, hu tao, & heizou

— lmao what’s groceries?

uh..doing their own groceries? hell no! they usually just order online. if they’re rich enough, maybe their assistants will do it for them. either way, you have never seen this brat even hold a shopping bag.

“what the..oh my god we’re out of rice!” you said in shock, gawking at the empty cabinet in your kitchen you often held for rice.

“oh really?” they acknowledged before quickly calling someone on their phone. “hey man, could you get us some rice? we’re out lol.”

like..bitch what?

CHILDE, scaramouche, DILUC, furina, navia, AYATO & NINGGUANG

— they hoard

“hey, let’s go to the grocery.” and you end up coming home with 6 bags chock-full of food and supplies to last you pretty much half a year. they were always ready for something bad to happen, an apocalypse, or maybe a shortage in supplies and sure, that was a good thing, but not when they were so strict about it..

wanna get spinach for some lasagna? nope, but we have kale in the fridge! some spices for curry? nope, but we have pepper! it was frustrating, really.

eventually they gave up and joined you on small grocery trips here and there. they had to admit, it was nice only carrying one or two bags home.

“see? now whenever you’re craving something i can just make it.” “don’t mention my cravings.”

WRIOTHESLEY, arlecchino, arataki itto (hear me out), cyno & EULA

— in scheduled visits

“can we go to the grocery today?” you ask, bored out of your mind as you placed down your phone. “we aren’t scheduled for a visit till friday though..” they say, as if replying to a question about a doctor’s appointment.

you didn’t know if it was because of their almost insane sense of orderliness, or because it was how they went for groceries with their parents when they were younger, but god did they stick to their schedule. it was a good way to make sure you wouldn’t use too much money in a week but sometimes, boredom takes the best of both of you.

“fuck it let’s go to the grocery.” they say, standing up from their chair as you stopped tapping your finger on their desk. the shock on your face made it seem like you just figured out the answer to the bonus question on a math exam, but you shrugged it off and reluctantly joined.

ALHAITHAM, GANYU, keqing, kuki shinobu, and.. yeah

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter six

summary: you go to luca's place for the first time and talk about what you might want to be.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 3.8k

listen to: the playlist is finally ready, though no promises that i won't add to it down the line! you can listen here.

a/n: i have a busy week ahead of me so i wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible because leaving you guys with a kiss and no resolution is just cruel. that and i just can't get them out of my head. i promise that chapter two of 'don't want to walk alone' is coming. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part five | masterlist | part seven

Luca doesn’t work nights – not on Saturdays, anyway – his hours are boringly predictable, starting at five AM for his daily pastry prep, while the rest of the kitchen – the ones that work on the line at least, take his dishes all the way to the finish line. 

He feels lucky, as he makes his way home from your restaurant, that he doesn’t have to do the late night thing anymore. Most of his colleagues get off of work around two, maybe three AM, before the restaurant closes from Sunday to Tuesday, and he doesn’t miss that schedule one bit. 

He’s also feeling pretty lucky because he hadn’t expected his conversation with you to go the way it had. Luca thought he’d come to your restaurant in an attempt to mend things, to reassure you that you could be friends and that the two of you could take a few steps back. Really, he thought that it may be easier that way –  perhaps the most realistic expectations for him to have considering it didn’t seem like you were ready. 

But then you kissed him. 

And he really, really hadn’t expected that.  

It’s not that he doubted your feelings for him – he can’t imagine that you’d spend all of this time with him, make such an effort to keep in contact so frequently if you weren’t feeling the same way – but Luca felt like the message was loud and clear the night of the ballet when you’d rejected his ask to keep the night going. He couldn’t hold it against you. You had only been divorced for just under two years, but it didn’t take the sting out of it – not even a little bit. So Luca had come to the restaurant this evening, sure that your answer would be no again: that you weren’t ready, that you just needed to be friends – something he’s willing to, something he wants to be able to give to you.

Luca had agonized over it all yesterday, and most of today, really. He knew that you’d panicked on Thursday, and he was eager to reassure you that you had nothing to worry about when it came to him; he didn’t want you to have anything to worry about it when it came to him. So he pushes the thought to the back of his mind, that one day, maybe a friendship with you won’t be enough, but he figures at best, that it was a problem for a future version of him. 

But the kiss changed things – or at least he hopes it does. He knows he can’t force it, but god, does he want you to be ready. As Luca enjoys his walk home from your restaurant – one that’s quickly becoming a well-known neighborhood spot – he heads in the direction of his Norrebro flat, deciding that he’ll just embrace the joy for now; embrace the fact that you kissed him because it’s not like he can predict what happens next. 

He replays the moment over and over in his mind: the way that you kissed him when words failed you, the feeling of your lips on his, the way his heart fluttered as he moved in closer towards you so that he could kiss you back. 

Before he gets home, he’s got a text from you, confirming that it’s alright that you come over later and he’s quick to reply yes, sending his address along with a ‘just text me when you’re on your way.’ Luca spends a little time tidying up his place in anticipation of your arrival. He makes a quick dinner – something simple, easy, a childhood comfort bowl of aglio e olio – before putting something old and familiar on the telly for background noise. 

By the time he’s managed to settle in for the evening, it’s a few hours later, and a ping echoes through his Copenhagen flat, alerting him that he has a message. Luca glances over at his phone to see that it’s a message from you, letting him know that you’re on your way.

His heart skips a beat. Luca takes a breath, before setting his book to the side, and makes his way to the kitchen so that he can put on the kettle. 

-------------------------------

It only takes a few moments after knocking on his door that Luca answers, all smiles and nervous energy as you stand in his doorway, with a similar nervous energy. 

“Hi,” he greets you softly. 

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to keep your heart from melting. 

It’s now or never, sister, you think to yourself as words of encouragement. 

The soft golden light of his living room lamps bring a warmth to his already welcoming-persona, as you step inside. You’re not sure whether you should kiss him or not, the question hanging over both of your heads in a tenuous way, so instead, you let him pull you into his arms for a long hug. 

“I’m glad you came,” he begins, his lips moving against your hair. 

“Think I’d chicken out?” you chuckle in response, with your teasing question as you pull away from your hug. 

He laughs, locking his front door as he says back, “I… think that’s a trick question.”

“Fair enough,” you concede, because you’re not going to make him answer it anyways. 

The kettle he seems to have put on whistles, signaling that it’s ready, as Luca hurries towards his kitchen area in the open-concept space. You take this as a chance to look around his living area before you get to talking. 

“So this is your place,” you observe, speaking loudly enough that he can still hear you. 

“Uh, yeah,” he calls back to you as he fiddles with the knobs to his gas stove, cutting the heat. 

You hear him ask you how the restaurant was, how the night went, and you reply, exchanging small talk as you take in the scene. He’s got one of those places where everything has its place, everything has a home, yet it’s warm. Your eyes glaze over the grey couch that maybe seats three, that sits across from a simple, yet stylish coffee table. His bookshelf is bursting at the seams with cookbooks, copies of classic literature you grew up reading in school, and a photo of him and a woman that you can only assume is his mother. 

“Tea?” Luca asks you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Please,” you answer as you watch Luca moving around his kitchen. 

You take a seat towards the center of his couch, picking up one of his coffee table books so that you can flip through it. You run your fingers over the spine, making a note in your head that he seems to have a thing for trainers, examining Luca’s copy of Nike: Better Is Temporary that’s been thoughtfully placed on his coffee table. 

“How do you take it?” he continues, eyeing you carefully as you flip through his coffee table book. 

As you look up, your eyes easily find his, and there’s something in the way he looks at you, a coquettish glimmer that matches his crooked smile so well that it hurts, and it makes you glad that you’ve already made up your mind about what you want to happen after tonight. 

“Just a little honey,” you reply, watching as he drops a sugar cube in his own mug, adding a splash of milk. 

He hums along with the lo-fi hip hop playlist that plays softly in the background as he finishes up with both cups of tea, so comfortable in his own space – so comfortable around you. Holding tightly onto both mugs, Luca makes his way over to you placing your mug down on the coffee table in front of you. 

He smirks, glad that you’ve chosen to sit more towards the center of the couch and not at the opposite end, taking this as a good sign. You exchange a few more words back and forth, more of the ‘how are you’ and ‘how was your day’ and ‘what’ve you been up to’s’ as you drink your tea. 

Really, you’re just biding your time, dancing around the thing that you came here to talk about as you make small talk instead that seems to die out before it’s really had a chance to get anywhere. 

You and Luca settle into a pregnant silence once again, before you open your mouth to speak, mustering up the courage to be the first one to bring it up. 

“So,” you start, and all of a sudden you feel like a blushing schoolgirl with a silly crush all over again. 

“So,” Luca repeats, raising his mug to his lips before taking a sip. 

“You kissed me.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully, as you reach for your mug like it’s there for emotional support. 

“I kissed you, yeah,” you echo, unable to hide the way the corners of your lips turn up into a smile in response to your admission. “Did you… like… that I kissed you?”

“Oh, yeah. No, it was great,” Luca rallies, enthusiastic yet somewhat clumsy. 

“Yeah, that’s… great,” you reply, less than gracefully as well. “Why is this… so hard?”

“I don’t know, love,” he empathizes, his eyes soft as he embraces the awkwardness with open arms. 

The two of you exchange a look – one of ‘what the hell are we doing’ – and a quiet laugh acknowledging that you both feel quite silly. Your heart swells, and the fact that you feel joy instead of panic is a greenlight as you decide that you might as well speed through it before it has a chance to change. 

“Luca, I-,” you begin, giving yourself time to get the words you want to say out. “I meant what I said earlier – that I really like you – and I do. It’s just….” You pause, shifting your body so that you’re facing him as you confess:

“I sort of… haven’t really dated anyone… not since the divorce.”

“No one?”

You shake your head. 

“I just… I haven’t been ready. Haven’t met anyone that I was really all that interested in either until, well till you,” you explain, hoping that it doesn’t feel like you’ve just raised the stakes with your admission. 

“So does that mean… are you telling me… that you are – open to this, I mean?” he asks, hesitantly, because he really doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 

“Yes. I-, I want to be. I think… I won’t know if I don’t try, you know?” you answer honestly, desperately wanting to make it clear that your hesitancy has nothing to do with him, as you muster up the courage to declare with conviction:

“And I want to try. With you.”

Before Luca can get a word in, it’s almost as if your words get away from you. It’s funny, really, that earlier you didn’t have the words to express what you wanted to say, and now it seems like you have too many. 

“And I would understand if you decided that taking a chance on a ‘maybe’ didn’t work for you because…” you trail off, succumbing to the nervous rambling in your head as the words seem to tumble out of your mouth. 

“Because you deserve a sure ‘yes’ and I-, I think I’m still discovering what that looks like for me. I mean, this is uncharted territory. And like… what if I don’t know how to do this? What if I’ve entirely forgotten how to date? What if I’m bad at it?” 

Luca sets his now half-full mug down on the coffee table before shifting his body so that he’s now a few inches closer to you. 

“Then we’ll both be bad at it… at least for a little bit, until we find our footing, that is…” Luca assures you, placing his hands over yours as he moves one more inch closer to you. 

And then he says this next part with so much confidence that you’re halfway to believing it yourself. 

“...because, I think this might be something we could be really good at.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice caught in your throat as you find yourself completely overwhelmed by this man’s kindness, his patience, and his compassion. 

“Yeah,” he nods in response, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile. 

You pull your hands away, just for a moment, so that you can return your mug to the coffee table as well, scooting a little closer to him this time. 

“So… would this mean… that we’re seeing each other?” you ask, contemplating the weight of the words that make up your question. You watch him carefully, searching his face for a reaction as he nods slowly. 

“Yeah, I’d like to start. Seeing you, that is,” he answers, his hands reaching for yours once again. 

Taken aback by his answer – and that it could really be this simple – you nod, trying your best to process as you mutter:

“Okay, yeah. I think-. Okay.” 

“Are you panicking right now?” he asks you softly, a more playful tone in his voice as you chuckle, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“Yeahhhh, a little,” you confess on an exhale, only feeling a little silly. 

“It’s okay,” he says, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. As you open your eyes, you immediately catch his, and you swear you could get lost in how deep and blue they are. You’re sitting impossibly close to him, and it’s taking all of your self-restraint not to thoughtlessly dive in – your head and your heart at a standstill, unable to declare a clear winner. 

“The thing is…” Luca trails off as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips, leaning in. “I don’t think a lot has to change. We already spend so much of our time together.” 

You lean in towards him too, wanting nothing more than for your lips to be on his again. 

“And we can take it slow.” 

“I’m good with slow,” you whisper, leaning in a little closer. 

“I just need you to talk to me, alright? If you start freaking out again,” Luca requests, and you know it’s a perfectly reasonable ask. 

“I will,” you agree with a slight nod of your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, before continuing with your very important question of: 

“But not too slow?” 

Luca chuckles, and he can feel your breath against his lips as you speak, glad you’re thinking the exact same thing. 

“We’ll go at whatever pace feels right,” he declares, bringing a hand up to cup your face, dangerously close to you now as the two of you engage in a game of chicken. 

Luca could care less about who does what first, and he’s more than willing to light the match if that’s what it takes. His hand feels hot against your jaw and you can feel the anticipation between the two of you. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he practically growls, under his breath.

“Please,” you reply, before crashing your lips into his. 

This kiss is different than before – than earlier today outside of your restaurant. It’s no longer a first. And you no longer have curious onlookers, passersby on the street, or nosy best friends who can’t help eavesdropping to worry about. It only takes you a moment to react as you lean into him, deepening the kiss. Luca’s hands are warm against your body, cupping your face, while the other moves to your back, pressing you closer to him – something you’re more than happy to comply with. 

The kiss starts out slow, tentative, as Luca kisses you deeply, more than eager to pick up where you left off earlier, but this time with the confidence of knowing that time is on your side. Luca breathes you in as he sucks on your top lip, before pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips. Your hands slide over his shoulders, snaking one of your hands up and behind the back of his head as you savor the way he tastes like chamomile and mint. 

You’re reminded of how fun this is supposed to be – getting to know someone new, making out like horny teenagers, dating – as your tongue tangles with Luca’s, chasing his lips like your life depends on it. It’s as if all of your worries, all of your doom what-ifs disappear for a moment, when you allow yourself to relax and enjoy what’s happening. 

You said it earlier: you’ll only know if you try, and Luca – and the way you feel about him – really, really makes you want to try. 

You whimper as he pulls away, only to be pleasantly surprised as he begins nipping at your jawline, behind your ear, ghosting his lips across the bare skin of your neck. You feel him smile against your skin as he presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, earning something between a gasp and a laugh from you. You forget how to breathe for a moment with that way he’s kissing you, but when Luca returns his lips to yours, it’s as if he’s realized that it’d be all too easy to get carried away like a runaway train. 

He places a slow, gentle kiss to your lips that takes up a full beat, then moves to the tip of your nose, leaving a gentler, more playful kiss there that earns a giggle from your lips. Finally, he presses the softest kiss against your forehead – one that seems to say: 

I care about you. 

He’s left you completely and entirely breathless as you begin to blink your eyes open, reluctantly coming back down to Earth as you exhale a:

“Woah.”

“Big woah,” Luca echoes in agreement, as the two of you exchange a laugh again.

“In the name of ‘slow, but not too slow,’ I think this means I should probably go home tonight,” you say reluctantly. 

“I figured as much,” Luca replies, respectfully. 

“But… I’ll call you. Tomorrow. Maybe… we can have a coffee?” you propose, hopefully. 

“I’d really like that,” he agrees. 

You get up off the couch, as Luca offers to take your mug to the kitchen. You make sure you have all of your things on your way to his front door, before you stop, turning to him. 

“Thank you. For being so… understanding, so patient with me,” you say, because it really does mean a lot to you. 

“You make it easy, love. Get home safe,” he replies, kissing you one last time. 

-------------------------------

Like you promised, you call Luca first thing in the morning, unsure if he’s going to be up already. You assume so, considering he’s at work most mornings at 5 AM, but you figure it’s something you’ll learn about each other now that you’re seeing each other. 

Holy shit. 

You’re dating again. 

And this time, as it all hits you, you find yourself more excited than nervous about the idea of dating again. Of course, it’s not like you’ve eradicated every fear, every thought, every what-if you have about starting something new with someone new, but the fact that that someone new seems to be the source of your excitement. 

You don’t spend long on the phone – just an exchange of good mornings, of how’d you sleeps, of you’re on my minds – as the two of you make a plan. 

A proper, yet casual date. 

A coffee date, you suggest, just like you had last night. 

Slow, but not too slow. 

It seems a little silly, considering you’ve been on a date before, but you remind yourself that in the end that date went horribly awry, and that although you’ve been to coffee with Luca before, this time, it really is a date. 

You decide to meet up at a coffee shop in the City Centre, something about pistachio croissants and getting there before they sell out, and before you know it, he’s waiting for you outside of your place, ready to lead the way. 

As you approach the cafe that Luca’s gone on and on about all morning, you spot a certain familiar three people sitting at a table outside, enjoying their morning coffees. You watch as Jesper goes on, animatedly explaining, perhaps this week’s spiciest sexcapade to both Mathilde and her husband, on the edge of their seats. 

Jesper, though mid-story, is the first to notice you and Luca’s presence, waving an arm to grab your attention as soon as he sees you. 

“Hej! Great timing. We were just talking about the two you,” Jesper calls out, as both you and Luca approach the cafe table. 

“Well, well. Where are you two coming from?” Mathilde asks, a smug smirk on her face plastered to her face. “Looks like you two figured things out.”

“Mathilde!” you exclaim as her husband lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head incredulously at his wife. 

“My wife is a little bit cheeky – and alotta bit mischievous. You’ll have to excuse her from time to time,” the man says, extending a hand out towards Luca. “I’m Emil.”

“Luca. It’s nice to meet you,” Luca answers, as Mathilde shoots you a ‘you better call and tell me everything later’ look, as the boys exchange pleasantries.

Choosing to ignore her previous statement, you turn your attention to Jesper as you ask: “What’s going on?”

“Oh just having a little morning coffee, catching up on Jesper’s wild, single life… He’s trying to rope me and Emil into something this coming Saturday and I know that Emil’s planning on dragging me there whether I like it or not,” Mathilde jokes, playfully nudging her husband. 

“Jesper got put on the list for this club opening next weekend. We were just talking about who might like to join,” Emil explains simply. 

“That so?” you ask with a raise of an eyebrow in Mathilde’s direction. It’s a ‘how do I know that we are about to get dragged along with you’ kind of look, and Mathilde simply shrugs in return. 

“Jesper’s always getting invited to these kinds of things, so we tag along when we can keep up,” Mathilde explains, this time directing her explanation to the newest addition to the group, Luca. 

“Which is rare,” Jesper teases, earning a snort and an eye roll from his twin sister. Jesper turns his attention back to you and Luca with words of encouragement. “No, it’s perfect timing that we were just talking about you and then, here you are! A sign from the gods. You must come – the both of you!”

“I don’t usually work Saturday nights so,” Luca begins, glancing over in your direction to feel you out on Jesper’s request.

“I… could be up for it, yeah,” you answer, hesitantly as you send a small nod in response. 

“Great, it’s settled then. I’ll have them put you both on the list,” Jesper smiles an accomplished smile. 

You’re not sure what you’re getting into (and you’re sure that you’ll have to catch Luca up on Jesper’s wild adventures later), but right now, you think that maybe, you're entering a chapter of ‘yes.’

-------------------------------

a/n: are we doing okay?! did we love the makeout!? are we ready for smut?!? yes, yes, and yes?!

[jmdbjk]

All things Walmart, poo, ticks and inspiration...

Spoiler alert but to hell with it, I know y'all have watched it all already.

Things I cannot relate to and will never happen to me:

• Pushing my cart down the snack aisle at Walmart and running into Jungkook searching for Tostitos and a sponge.

• Going out to the mailbox to gather the day's junk mail and two guys on a Harley drive by and wave at me and me not know it was Jimin and Jungkook.

• Hiking through the forest and not realizing that guy way up ahead swatting at mosquitoes is Jimin.

• Enjoying my lobster mac & cheese at a restaurant and not know Jungkook is discreetly (not so discreetly) staring at my food trying to decide if he wants to order what I'm having.

I didn't have time today to spend on this like I wanted to and I feel like everyone has already talked about the finer points they're most interested in so I'm going to just drop a few things that made ME laugh, smile and cherish the fact they even started this thing, this show. Episode 3 will be here tomorrow night (for me) so I don't want to delay this anymore so I'll be brief for Ep. 2.

Saturday, July 15:

They left the campsite and Jungkook got to ride the motorcycle. Jimin said he looked like a proper American.

They stopped at a park and hiked a trail. Jimin fought mosquitoes. It was brutal. I've seen people worried about ticks. And snakes. Jimin pointed out a spider on a tree. Jungkook fantasized about alligators. Tick inspections occurred all around later on I hope.

We didn't see the transition from woods to marina. Maybe they had to make a bathroom stop for Jimin. Or urgent care to get him some meds. Who knows. Poor thing was suffering.

On the yacht, Jimin was still feeling puny but he tried. He ate though he knew he was risking it all.

He horsed around with Jungkook with the beast still rolling around in his guts.

I really wasn't expecting so much poop talk during Are You Sure but here we are.

I think this summed up the yacht trip. Especially after how it all started with the excursion being leaked by the boat captain himself. Perhaps the editors did this on purpose.

FYI those concentric ripples in the images are my camera trying to capture the screen in a different frequency than the monitor refreshes or some tech mumbo jumbo. Apologies and please ignore. It's Disney's fault for not letting us screen cap using an app.

I think Jungkook was looking for ticks. He would take something like that seriously, don't you think?

But Jimin mostly slept on the yacht. He had a rough night before. They still salvaged what they could and they still seemed to enjoy the experience.

A trip to Walmart. On the way they have one of those rambling conversations where Jungkook, who is not the most talkative type, decides to talk Jimin's ear off. They talked about making music and what drives them personally in their choices about their work.

We'll visit that thought again in a minute....

The whole Walmart visit is surreal to me. I go to Walmart at least once a week so to see Jimin and Jungkook browsing the aisles just blows my mind. NEVER did I EVER dream I'd see them looking for bacon at WALMART.

They look just like anyone else pushing their shopping cart going down the cereal aisle past the boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Sugar Pops.

Jimin was a tad testy when JK disappeared. He even cussed him out. HAHAHAHAHAAA. BEEN THERE DONE THAT!!!

I know Jimin-ssi, why are men like that? I swear to god...

I saw someone say this sums up their dynamic perfectly: Jimin calculating in his mind how to work the self-check out while Jungkook does the helicopter cam above him.

You gotta give it to Walmart though, they do know their customer. The self check out is pretty self-explanatory.

The content of their cart:

TWO boxes of Twinkies???? And both Prego AND Ragu...

Getting to the AirBnb accommodations. Cooking. Chilling out before bedtime and Jimin lets Jungkook hear Who.

Horsing around in bed. You know, all these years, I've wondered how they keep the toothpaste spit inside their mouths while brushing their teeth? We've seen them brushing their teeth backstage, in the bathroom, walking around the green room, outside practicing choreo... HOW DO THEY NOT DROOL ALL OVER THEIR CUSTOM MADE OUTFITS? And now wrestling on the bed...

Waking up, JK and his frosted flakes. Jokes about abandoning Jimin...more horsing around on the bed. And then they doze off again. I know they did. Hard to tell but Jungkook is glued to Jimin's back.

Jimin gets to ride on the back of the Harley with JK. It starts to rain. I guess they were bringing it back to the rental place.

Going back to the store for a sponge.

I think Jimin was feeling much better. Looked like he slept better.

We see the Army who said they met Jimin and Jungkook last year. When I first heard about it I thought how lucky and random and what kind of stars need to align for that to happen??? What a great experience!!! When will it be our turn???

And then the next idea for Run BTS (the show)... hide and seek while shopping for specific ingredients to cook with and the twist is they're in a foreign country. WORLD TOUR RUN BTS!!! BIGHIT I HAVE IDEAS!!!! LISTEN TO ME!!!!

Its raining, dancing in the rain as they exit the store. They leave in the Jeep and head back to the house to eat their pizza.

Army in Connecticut won in life.

Then they start their journey back to NYC (I'm assuming) so Jungkook can go on to London and Jimin can head back to Korea. They stop one more time for lobster rolls and lobster mac & cheese.

That's when we see Jungkook contradict himself...

In the Jeep just a little while ago you said nothing inspired you. Was it the rain or the beer that was inspiring you? Or was it the head full of new memories and ideas about the next trip that were swirling around in there?

By the end of this trip, they are back in sync.

Their closing interview: JK wants to keep doing this until they're 50, 12 more seasons! JK said "practice being better variety show entertainers so the two of us can continue doing this" as motivation to continue doing this type of thing way into the future. Jimin found humor in that. And that's where we fade to black.

And during the credits, Jimin is eating again, spicy ramen, possibly the next day. Apparently his stomach is back in order as he readies to fly back home.

What a trip.

Deeper thoughts:

Jimin and Jungkook wanted to spend time together. We knew that. It didn't seem to happen when it could have. They even said so in the Jeep. But JK concluded the discussion succinctly:

Finally.

Finally they were spending quality time together. Though their talk was brief, we have no idea if there was more to it before or after what we saw of it. The editors showed us that much enough to explain the situation and why it had not happened. The end result of it all was: finally.

Finally, after wanting this. Finally, after saying we would. Finally... doing something together that we loved doing before and we've wanted to do again. Finally.

Jimin pushed for it. He knew. He made it happen. Finally.

They are two distinct personalities and their journeys through this solo era leading up to their enlistment were different.

Jimin is a leader and doer. He is the initiator. Jimin said if he hadn't pushed for this show to happen it would not have gotten done.

There were a few moments in these first two episodes where Jimin brought up MS. Jungkook didn't seem thrilled to talk about it.

They truly didn't know what they were going to film for this show. They got in the car and started to make it up as they went. I can see how that would be awkward.

They don't understand that just them being themselves is what we want to see. They don't have to try to make something happen. Its the spontaneous moments that make the best content (see kayak dump and Walmart trip). Maybe Jimin was more in tune with this than Jungkook was but he is the one who turns on a live and sits there and watches Netflix while eating chicken. They had to get back in sync and they did.

So the first episode was a little slow, a little cautious, a little quiet. Reserved. That first day they were finding their groove, getting 're-acquainted' if you will, finding the slots and spaces in each other that fit and feel the most comfortable to them. You could see them relax as the day wore on.

But, they still had challenges. JK's head cold. Jimin's stomach bug. You want some TMI's? Watch Jimin run to the bathroom for the fifth time.

We may see a little bit of this quiet re-acquainting when BTS does its first group live next year. And yes, I am 100% confident we will see this first live shortly after Jimin and Jungkook are discharged. We will see them in a way we've never seen before.

After both episodes... my conclusion is we saw about 2 hours out of the roughly 3 or three and a half days Jimin and Jungkook were together. Thursday evening, July 13 through Sunday evening, July 16. I'm not exactly sure when JK left for London but Jimin went back to Korea on July 17.

I wonder if the plan was to create hour long episodes or if there was so much they wanted to show the episodes just ended up being that long. They could have easily hidden Jimin's stomach issues from us. They could have edited a lot of it down. But in making the episodes this long, they showed more and more of their dynamic in play.

I didn't put everything into this post that I wanted to but we've got six more episodes coming and I still haven't had time to watch Run Jin.

Hashtags arent working... I'll add them later.

[ur-fav-inactive-writer]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Klaus Hargreeves x Sister!Reader

Summary; Most people hate their siblings. This is not the case for two of the Hargreeves. A big brother, his baby sister, and a whole load of chaos.

CW: cringy tries at inserting lyrics, swearing, a bit angsty, mention of drugs, bad writing ig, not proofread

WC: 1908

On an early Saturday morning, the Hargreeves' children were awoken by Pogo. They were all fourteen at this point and were used to being awoken early in the morning to do training. They reached for their training gear, but Pogo stopped them.

"Ah, actually, today your father needs to discuss and announce something, so training is delayed for the hour" All the Hargreeves children were confused, but dressed themselves and lined up in the living area. Their father came into the room and, to their surprise, was holding a small infant. They gasped in surprise, staring at the child. "Children, this is number 8. They, like you, have powers. They have the ability of water manipulation, and I will be raising them alongside you."

They all stared at the child, taking in their features and their peaceful expression. Klaus stared at them; he felt a strange connection to this kid. Reginald placed the child into a bassinet and left the room, and ordered the siblings to get back to training. They all wanted to stay for a moment and process what was going on, but Grace shooed them out of the room. Klaus stepped outside so his mother would get off his back but went back into the living area once she'd left. With shaking hands, he reached for the baby. He gently picked up the child, and her eyes fluttered open and stared at Klaus. Her expression changed to one of confusion, and Klaus panicked, thinking she would begin to cry. Much to Klaus' surprise, the baby began to giggle. At that moment, Klaus just knew he'd have a special bond with that little girl.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

*4 Years Later*

Klaus really did love her. He did. But not even his love for her could make him stand the thought of spending a second longer in that house with his cruel father. He felt terrible. Most of the Hargreeves' children had left home already, moving out and pursuing a new life. Klaus had held off on this for a while, wanting to stay for (Y/N). But he just couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to stay and protect her, she still had at least twelve more years here, and God knows what their father would do with her once none of her siblings could defend her. After the fight Klaus had with his father, though, he couldn't stand the thought of staying in that house anymore. He felt horrible, he couldn't leave without a goodbye, but you were nowhere to be found at that point, likely somewhere with Grace. He sighed, collecting a few of his things that he didn't mind leaving in your possession. He grabbed a photo of the two of you from his nightstand. The photograph captured one of you and Klaus' many good memories. In the photo, you were on Klaus' bed. Klaus was tickling you, and you were laying on the bed, shrieking, giggling, and kicking. You had a bright grin, and Klaus was looking up at you with pure adoration in his eyes. He felt tears swell in his eyes, reminiscing on that precious moment, but he blinked them away. He grabbed your favourite glittery gel pen and began to write on the back of the photo.

Dear (Y/N/N), I'm sorry, but I have to go. You need to know that I still love you, though. You're the most amazing little sister in the world, and I'm gonna miss you. I'm sorry for leaving you but I can't stay any longer. I'll see you soon, sunshine. I'm gonna miss you so much.

- Klausy"

He felt horrible for leaving the poor girl behind; she was so small and vulnerable. He'd come back for her someday. He put his things into a pile and left the photo and note on her bed. A tear rolled down his cheek as he went to leave your room. Just before he left, he grabbed one of your stuffed animals. You and Klaus always played with it when you were little. He shoved into his bag and walked out of your room. He shut the door, climbed out his window, and didn't return to the Hargreeves' mansion for years.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

*12 years later*

You were 16 by now. It had been a long time since you'd seen any of your siblings, and you missed them dearly. You hadn't seen or heard from Klaus since he left that note on your bed. It broke your heart when he left, he was your best friend. You still had all your brothers belongings that he left in your room and kept whatever he left in his bedroom. You were 4 when he left and had grown a ton since he had left. It had been 4 years since you had seen any of your siblings. The last one of your siblings you saw was Luther before he went to the moon, even then, he didn't ever talk to you much. You liked watching the news or movies to see your sister, Allison, or your brother, Viktor, or even your other brother, Diego. Your father had recently passed away, and you were devastated. He was a cruel, cruel man, but he was still your father. However, this meant a funeral would be held.

You prayed that Klaus would come to it, wanting nothing more than to see your favourite brother again. It was finally the day of the funeral. You changed into your black dress, with tights and your black converse. You got dressed and applied your makeup before heading downstairs. There was a knock on the door, and you ran down the stairs to answer it. Your eyes blew wide to see it was Klaus. You went to leap on him, but he stopped you. His eyes were bloodshot, and he seemed out of it. You quickly realised that he was on drugs and likely didn't recognise you, considering how much you had grown up since he last saw you.

"Klausy?" You said quietly, in shock. He stared at you, perplexed, until he remembered that nickname. "Oh (Y/N/N)!" He shrieked and hugged you tightly. "Oh, how I missed you, sunshine!" You smiled happily and hugged your brother back tightly. It was weird to see him now, he looked so different. But it had been 12 years of no contact, and you also looked drastically different, so you couldn't say much.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

*a few hours later*

You had spent your last few hours greeting your other siblings and doing other random things but spent the majority of it bonding with Klaus. He was amazed at how grown up you now were and felt a pang of guilt, knowing he missed all of your childhood. You both went over what you had been up to for those past few years and Klaus listened intently to every word you said.

It was nearly time for the funeral when you heard something outside. Everyone rushed outside, and you saw something that looked like a bright blue portal. You stared in confusion, hidden behind your brothers. Much to your surprise, a boy (who looked a couple years younger than you) fell from the portal. All your siblings seemed shocked to see him, as if they knew him, but didn't expect him to be there. He looked somewhat familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

"Does anyone else see little number Five? Or is that just me..?" Klaus said, unsure if the drugs were causing him to see things.

The boy looked around, staring at the faces of his siblings. "Shit."

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

You had now properly introduced yourself to Five and realised where you recognised him from. He was in the painting over the mantel. He knew of your existence from Viktor's book but was somewhat glad to formally meet you. It was now time for the funeral... it didn't exactly go down well. Diego made some ballsy remark, and it all kicked off. Him and Luther began to shove each other. You watched, eyes blown wide. You were stood with Klaus underneath his pink umbrella. Klaus watched as they fought, pushing you behind him and putting his arm out in front of you. Your breath hitched, you were scared at the sight. Klaus encouraged the fight until he saw your reaction. He covered your eyes, "Oh cmon, not in front of the kid!" As the words fell from his mouth, they crashed into Ben's statue. You heard the crash and Allison bluntly say 'Well, there goes Ben's statue.' Klaus did enjoy watching fights but wanted you away from the scene.

You sat down on the sofa, shaken by the scene. You knew Diego was violent and ballsy but you never expected him to do such things. You were staring into space, paying no attention to your surroundings until you felt the sofa dip beside you. You turned your head to see Klaus. "Hey sunshine, so much for a funeral, huh?" He laughed breathily, taking a puff of his cigarette. You looked down, Klaus noticing your dejected state. He put an arm around her. "Cmon, sunshine, no need to get down about it, they're just moody old men. They'll be fine." You smiled softly up at your brother and he grinned at you.

"There's that smile, huh." He said, attempting to make your smile even wider by tickling you. You began to shriek and giggle as he poked at your ribs. He laughed softly, remembering the picture he had left on your bed all those years ago. The memory was bittersweet, he loved it but couldn't help but associate it with abandoning you all.those years ago. He vowed to never leave you like that ever again.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

*dallas, texas, 1963*

It had been a while since you ended up in Dallas, after going through that portal. Luckily for you, you landed with your big sister, Allison. She took you under her wing, allowing you to live with her. She told Ray that you were 16 and just looked a bit old for your age and that she had you when she was in her teens. Ray loved her and believed it, he accepted you as his own daughter. But nothing made you stop missing your big brother. Allison sent you to school in order to not arouse suspicion. You weren't the biggest fan, but it helped you to keep your cover. One day, you'd had a pretty shitty day and stormed into the house. You hoped to collapse onto the sofa and just lay there. As you slammed the front door you heard a man's voice as well as Allison's. You peeked into the living room, seeing Klaus. "Klaus?!" He looked up at you, "Oh, sunshine! Just the girl I wanted to see!" He leapt up from the sofa, taking you into his embrace. Allison smiled, opting to leave you two to have a moment. He pulled away, wanting to see how much you'd grown since you last saw each other but noticed your tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. "Whoa, whoa, woah, what happened to you sunshine?"

"N-nothing, it's fine." You sniffled, averting your gaze to the floor. "Talk to me, what's going on?" With this, your eyes teared up again, and you broke down crying, explaining what had happened. Klaus held you, stroking your hair and consoling you. "It's gonna be okay sunshine, you should know I'll be there for you." You smiled up at him weakly, and he dried one of your tears. "If we have each other, we'll both be fine." He said with a soft smile.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

A/N: I'm aware this is a bit shit but im js tryna get back into writing so i tried this out :) hope you like reading it <3

TAGLIST: @book-place @shefollowedthestars

[darlingshane]

Something Crazy

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: On Natalie's wedding day, life takes an unexpected turn when you learn that your former crush, Michael, might be interested in you.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, P in V, Vanilla, Alcohol, Eating, Fluff, Crack, Pet Names, Kissing, Dancing.

Word Count: 4,6k

— You can read below or at AO3.

Today is the big day for your best friend Natalie. She's marrying her long-time boyfriend, Pete, and you've come back to Chicago for only two days to celebrate this lifetime milestone with them.

They've picked a perfect Saturday in the middle of spring to celebrate their union. Flowers are in full bloom, gardens are lush green, wind has calmed, welcoming a balmy weather to allow having a wedding ceremony outdoors.

Bright Sun rays slip like gold ribbons through the sheer fabric of the curtains as you carefully hang Natalie's gown and remove the garment bag. It's a simple but stunning empire dress, strapless, with lace and pearls adorning the corset. Though you've never fantasized about your own wedding before, as your hand slides softly along the skirt, you can't help but imagine yourself as a giddy bride, wearing that same dress.

Tying the knot is not on top of your list right now. Settling with someone? That's more likely to happen. But there's nothing like being chosen as the maid of honor, especially if you're single, to find yourself trapped in that Disney daydream of getting to meet your prince charming and live happily ever after. Hopefully, that unwelcome, sudden longing will vanish after a few drinks at the reception. Until then, your top priority is making sure your best friend's special day is as magical as she planned.

You're in the designated dressing room of the hotel with the rest of the bride's party laughing, sipping rosé, telling stories while the beautician works against the clock, getting all four of you primped and ready.

While you help Natalie get into her dress, Gigi comes back with a tray of pastries to soak the alcohol before anyone gets too drunk.

“You guys gotta see Mikey. He's so fucking hot I could die. I've never seen him all dressed up and clean like that,” she announces loudly, going around the room like a whirling handing croissants and muffins. “I swear to god his pants are so tight, it’s like looking into an x-ray photograph… you can see everything. And I mean everything,” Gigi stares at you, raising an eyebrow, while you stuff part of a croissant into your mouth.

“Ew, that's my brother,” Natalie frowns in disgust.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you say after swallowing part of your pastry.

“She's looking at you like that because, as we all recall, it was you who had a crush on him for the longest time,” the bride sharply indicates.

“She's got a point, babe.”

“I was like fifteen,” your tone pitches a little higher, as if you were still that age. “Why do you always have to bring that up?”

“Cause let's be honest, you were hung up on him for way longer than you said, and your face still lights up every time you see him. Why can't you just admit you're still love-struck?”

You open your mouth to counter her accusation, but words refuse to come out. You can't even lie for dear life cause admittedly, as fucking annoying as they are, they're also right. Michael was one of those crushes that was hard to shake off. Your friends quickly jumped from one infatuation to another, but you pinned for Sugar's cooler, slightly older brother for longer than you should have. And that's probably the reason every time all your friends get together, they use that embarrassing piece of information to tease you. Even if you ever wanted to forget, they'll never let you.

The last time you saw Michael in person was a few weeks ago for only a few minutes when you came to help Natalie with the last details of the wedding and barely exchanged a couple of words. You moved to Detroit for work three years ago, and the few times you've come back here, you haven't crossed paths with him that often. The soon-to-be married couple also forgo the rehearsal dinner altogether to save money, so you didn't get a chance to see him before the ceremony.

“All I'm saying is if you wanna take a stab at that, this is the perfect time. He's single, he has great hair, he's wearing a dope suit, and did I mention hot?” Gigi keeps cajoling. “Hell, I'll hit that, If you don't. So better act fast.”

“He always had great hair,” Samira agrees, downing the rest of her wine.

“And he asked about you the other day when I showed him the pics of our trip,” Sugar adds.

“Oh,” you try not to sound too pleased, cause you doubt he ever paid any attention to you. Why would he start now?

“Yeah, he was definitely checking you out, and loved that video of you at the karaoke bar,” Samira chimes in as she pours another glass.

“Okay, you're making that up. No more wine for you, missy,” you promptly snatch the bottle from your friend and put it away while they all laugh. “Wait… he saw the video of me singing?”

“Uh-hm.”

You file that information for later and once you are all dressed up, you hand Natalie a stunning bouquet of roses before leaving the room.

“Thanks,” she grabs your arm for a second as Gigi and Samira head out. “Sorry for making fun of you… again. You know we love you and that we just want the best for you.”

“I know,” you mumble timidly.

“Sweetie, you don't need my permission, but if you wanted to ask Michael out, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because… You've always been like a sister to me, and part of me wanted him to see how amazing you are, so I kept telling him about you. I showed him photos and videos, hoping that he would. And he did! He really loved that one of you vibing to TLC. Thought you were funny.”

“You told him, didn't you?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“I'd stab you if you weren't about to get married,” your serious tone makes her snort.

“Look, you’re not dating anyone. He’s not dating anyone… I could ask him if he's interested before Gigi swipes him up.”

“Nat,” you sigh into a heavy pause, looking into her clear blue eyes. “We’re not in school anymore, you don’t have to play matchmaker. And it's your day! The last thing on my mind is hooking up with someone. Let alone your brother. So drop it.”

“Just saying. It could really be a wedding present for me if you two were to…” you scowl at her, which makes her leave that thought unfinished.

“Okay, that's gross, let’s get you married, so I can kill you right after.”

“Alright, alright. I promise I won’t mention it again.”

In your lavender dress and matching heels, you wait for your cue as the wedding starts. The quartet starts playing. Once the officiant and the groom are in position, groomsmen, and bridesmaids walk down the aisle in pairs. You line up with the bridesmaids by the floral arch on the side of the bride in the lush garden and watch as Natalie walks down the aisle, escorted by both brothers, Carmen and Michael.

She looks radiant, but your stare darts slightly to your former crush. He’s dressed in a dark suit and royal blue shirt, no tie. His fluffy hair pushed back, shining under the sun like black licorice. His features are sharply defined as usual, but there's definitely a certain glow around him that makes him look more handsome than you remember.

Credit where credit's due, Gigi was right. They all were. He still manages to stir those intense feelings and butterflies in your stomach that you thought gone when your eyes meet for a split second as they get closer to the altar. There's also a glimpse of a smile in his lips, directed at you. Or so it looks like. Maybe you're making it up in the chaotic mess that is your mind.

Carmy and Michael kiss either side of Natalie's face when they reach the altar, and then they take their seats on the first row as she stands face to face with Pete.

The quartet stops playing, the officiant starts speaking, and you aim your focus to the ceremony.

Once Natalie and Pete are pronounced husband and wife, there's a time dedicated to take a few pictures of the wedding party in that very same garden before losing the natural light.

Despite promising she was going to let it go, your now-married friend insists on making sure you and Michael end up in several pictures together.

“Mmm… Marcus, is it?” you shake hands with him, pretending to have forgotten his name.

“Michael,” his grip is firm around your hand.

“Oh, sorry, Mario. I have a terrible memory.”

“Don't be cute. I know you remember,” he scoffs, amused, linking one arm around your waist per the photographer's instructions.

You swallow, nervously placing your hand on his firm back, trying to keep your cool. As the photographer takes a series of snapshots, Michael starts humming a familiar song. No scrubs. The one you sang in that famous video your friends filmed.

You press your lips together, and pretend you're not hearing it. It seems like they've all been scheming together against you, or in your favor. You're not sure. You know Sugar wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, but this is getting ridiculous.

“Save me a dance later, would you?” he requests with a wink once the photoshoot session is over.

“I can't, Mitchell. I've already promised that to one of the groomsmen,” lie.

“You're gonna keep that bit the rest of the day?”

You shrug your shoulders, “it's not up to me, Marley.”

“Alright, come find me when you grow up.”

He presses his lips in a tight smile and walks away, leaving you dwelling in that awkwardness that washes over you, and wondering if he's messing with you or if he's suddenly into you. Those are good questions that you can't leave unanswered. If there's a chance that Michael Berzatto likes you, and that's a big IF, you really need to find out. The ball is in your court now. The question is… Do you want to throw it back?

The party moves to the banquet room in the hotel. There's plenty of food, drinks, music, and people in the room, but none of it can't distract you from the presence of Michael. This isn't how you expected to spend the day of your friend's wedding. And it's really going to bother you if you don't at least try to have a nice conversation with him. This is probably your last chance, so right after your heartfelt toast, you wipe your tears, throw back some liquid courage to walk up to his table.

He's nursing a glass of scotch, watching people on the dance floor, when you quietly take the empty chair besides him.

“No Richie today?” you break the ice.

“Oh, you remember his name but not mine?”

“Get over yourself, Michael. You know, I always got a little awkward when I was nervous. And unfortunately, it still happens.”

“Think you're doing pretty good right now.”

“Had a little help,” you tilt your glass in his direction.

“Well, I'm glad you decided to join me,” he nods and points at the bar where Richie is conversing animatedly with your friend Gigi. “I had to convince Sugar to invite him. Hope he behaves for my sake.”

“Oh no, you're a dead man. Nothing good is gonna come out of that.”

“How so?”

“They're both insane, divorced and desperate. That's a dangerous cocktail nobody wants to drink,” you point out.

“Yeah, you're right. I guess I didn't really think it through.”

“You're screwed, Berzatto,” you take a sip of your glass and turn your eyes from the bar to Michael. “You know I was just joshing earlier, right? It surprised me that you were so… Direct.”

“Men aren't usually direct with you?”

“No, I guess I haven’t been very lucky in that department… Or maybe I’m just a bitch with unreachable standards that scares away any potential suitors.”

“That would explain a lot.”

“Gee, thanks!”

“I’m kidding. I’m sure your standards are reasonable. And I don’t think you’re a bitch if that helps.”

“Yet you’re wondering why I came here alone?”

“Not really. I didn't bring a date, either.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“I dunno. Maybe I have really high standards, too,” he winks casually at you, knocking you out of your game.

You should have come prepared for this, but you never thought in a million years that Michael Berzatto would ever show any interest in you.

Still trying to figure out if you're picking up the right signals from him, you prop your elbows on the table and let out a sigh as he presses the rim of his glass to his mouth to take a swig.

You bite your lip and watch the guests swaying animatedly on the dance floor.

“So. Do you wanna dance?” he softly taps one of your arms.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Did your sister put you up to this?”

“Why would she?”

“Don't play dumb. I used to have the biggest crush on you, and if you didn't notice, I'm sure your Sugar has told you.”

His lips draw a lopsided smile. “She might have mentioned something a while ago, but she didn't put me up to this, I swear. This is all me. I only asked you for a dance. I didn't ask you to marry me.”

“I suppose a dance wouldn’t be that bad.”

“I'll take that,” he throws back the rest of his drink in one gulp, stands up, offering his hand up to you, “shall we?”

You were hoping to have some more time to prepare, but his sharp conviction is something you can’t reject. That’s part of Michael Berzatto’s appeal. He’s always been such a bold and outgoing guy, it's daunting. It’s good to see that hasn’t changed at all. The only thing that’s different is that now he’s wasting his charms on you.

With some apprehension, you follow his steps into the dance floor. There’s a mid-tempo song playing that you don’t recognize that makes you forget altogether how to move your body. So you just stand there, three feet away from him, like a deer caught in headlights, bobbing your head, avoiding his eyes.

Michael stares at you, slightly entertained by how uncomfortable you look right now, and throws you a lifeline by stepping closer, picking up your hands and placing them on his shoulders.

“What are you so afraid of, sweetheart?” he asks, planting his palms on your waist, guiding you slowly to move with him.

“I'm afraid that I'm not a very good dancer.”

“I doubt that.”

“Wait till I step on you,” you subconsciously look down at your feet.

“Follow my lead. You'll be fine.”

“Okay, Johnny Castle, but don't make me mambo, salsa, waltz… Or anything that requires taking my feet off the ground.”

“Who the hell is Johnny Castle?”

“Patrick Swayze? Dirty Dancing?” you question, as if it was the most outrageous thing that he hadn’t heard about that film.

“I’m more of a Road House kinda guy.” Of course, he is. “Was that another crush of yours?”

“Oh, big time!”

“Ok, got it, nothing fancy, we're just swaying. See?” His hands guide your body to move side to side, but it's impossible not to feel a little clumsy in your steps.

“Hey, what do you think of Pete?” He asks, using his head to point at the newly-weds.

“Uhh,” you glance to the side to see Pete wrapping an arm around Natalie, “he can be a total douche sometimes, but he's always sweet to her. I guess that's what matters. Why? What do you think about him?”

“Words out of my mouth.”

“Michael?” You glance up to his deep dark eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Be honest, why did you want to dance with me?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Your lips pull up on the sides as your head nods.

“Cause I wanted to dance with the prettiest girl I've ever met.”

If this is a dream, you don't wanna wake up to find out that this was just a concoction of your mind. It's not. It feels real. If you weren't holding onto him, you'd fall to your knees after hearing his words roll past his beautiful lips.

There are so many questions you wanna ask, but you can only sigh, and smile wider under the sweet glow of his brown eyes fixed on you.

“You really think that I’m that pretty or interesting?” your mouth opens after a pregnant pause, at the same time the song switches to something incredibly romantic.

“I've always thought that. It just took me a while to realize it.”

“God, you have the perfect answer to everything. That's really annoying.”

“I don't. I swear. You just caught me in a good mood.”

“I don't remember you ever being in a bad mood.”

“I have my moments. Trust me.”

He unexpectedly picks one of your hands from his shoulder, lifts it in the air to have you spinning ungracefully under his elbow before quickly wrapping his opposite arm around your waist to dip you. He grins at the shocked expression on your face for a second before bringing your body upright.

“Please, don't do that again,” you brace your hands to his chest right after.

“Why? That was perfect, sweetheart,” he laughs, “Johnny Castle would be proud.”

Your lips curl softly, letting your palms tentatively slide on his blazer until they're caught on the warm surface of his neck.

“Am I making you nervous?” he dares to ask, knowing pretty much that he's driving you crazy.

“A little,” a lot, actually.

He whispers, – sorry – as you run your fingers at the hair at his nape. You observe up close how he licks his lips, noticing his hands clutching harder to your waist. His head leans closer, and you draw a breath, preparing yourself for having his lips colliding against yours. It feels like the world stops spinning for a second and just about when he's about to kiss you something, someone in this case, crashes against your back making you lose your balance. Michael anchors you to the floor quickly before you can fall, as a slurred-drunk voice apologizes at your back.

“Fucking idiot,” Michael mutters and checks on you, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You're not. The spell is broken, and your dress suddenly feels cold and wet from the drink that was spilled along your hip.

You excuse yourself, and rush out of the dance floor, so you can clean yourself up.

There’s a big surprise in the nearest bathroom you find, and that is your friend Gigi making out with Richie with such passion, they don't even notice you opening and quickly closing the door.

The tiny glimpse that you caught of Richie propping your friend on the sink and sliding his hands under her skirt makes your jaw almost fall to the floor. You wish you could erase that from your memory immediately, but at least it has made you forget momentarily about your dress.

When you turn around, you’re faced with Michael again. You ran out so fast you didn’t notice him following behind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Richie and Gigi,” smacking your lips, you point with your thumb to the door with no further explanation.

“Wow, they didn’t waste any time.”

“That's the thing about weddings. They make people do crazy things.”

“Tell me about it,” Michael looks down for a beat, licks his lips, and steps closer.

He holds your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up. As he leans to capture your mouth, you flinch, “what are you doing?”

“Something crazy,” the corners of his mouth quirk up, making another move, and you jerk your face a second time in reflex. It’s not that you don't wanna kiss him, you absolutely do. You just need another moment to process it.

“Damn, girl. Can you just stay still, so I can kiss you already?” He demands without an ounce of entitlement. Just driven by the desire to taste your lips.

“Alright, okay… just give me a second,” you yield to his craving, letting him slowly guide you, so your back is pressed against the wall.

There’s no escape now, this is the moment you’ve dreamed with many moons ago that seemed like a pipe dream back then. All those thoughts vanish the moment his lips are pressed against yours firmly, before letting them bounce a couple of times together. His alcohol-tainted breath mixes with yours as his lips part wider. He captures your lower lip with a light suck, followed by the tip of his tongue shamelessly drawing the curve of your mouth. It's deliciously sexy and sweet and everything in between. You close your eyes and follow his lead, opening your mouth and letting him slot his lips against yours. His tongue invades past your teeth without resistance. It challenges you to kiss him back. It takes you a moment to respond, but soon enough, you're fully immersed in the depth of his mouth, taking the reins of the kiss.

You haven't been kissed like this in a while. Maybe ever.

When your mouths separate, you realize your hands are anchored to his back, and he's fully pressed against you. His lips are covered in your saliva and vice versa.

“I'm going to change my dress,” you sigh, giving him a little push, so you can put yourself together.

“Oh… Okay,” there's a hint of disappointment in his tone.

You clear your throat and harness an ounce of confidence to ask, “do you wanna come? I might need some help. The zipper is a little tricky in this thing.”

Right.

His expression turns on a dime, eyes wide open, white edge teeth showing behind his slightly parted lips. Speechless by the implication of your proposal, he cleans his lips on his palm before responding, “I… sure.”

Proud of yourself for taking a gamble and hitting the jackpot, you go back inside the banquet hall first to collect your purse from the table and then head up to the elevators with him following closely behind.

A palm lands at the small of your back while you press the button. The anticipation makes your stomach flutter wilder than ever. Who would have thought you'd be taking Michael to your room on this day? It feels surreal. Absolutely bananas.

You don't say a word during the elevator ride up to the fourth floor.

When you reach your door, you notice his palms framing your hips from behind. His touch makes your pulse tremble while using the key card. It takes you a couple of tries to open the door.

There's a strange force, an electricity buzzing, that grows more powerful the second you're inside.

You hit the light switch, drop your purse on the chair and turn to face him.

Following that unstoppable whim, you place your palms on his chest and push back his blazer. He shrugs it off as you move to undo the few buttons he's fastened. Your fingers tremor anxiously as you uncover his defined torso. You want to stick out your tongue and trace those two lines forming a V oh his abdomen that leads to the outline of his cock behind the tight fabric of his dress slacks. It’s too bold of a move for you right now, so you let your fingers do your bidding.

When your hands reach his belt, they proceed to unbuckle it under the lust-filled shadow of that flame of his gaze that could scorch the surface of the earth if he wanted to in a second.

He’s already half hard when you unzip his fly, and that's as far as he allows you to go. Michael's dying to touch you, to undress you and fuck you. He quickly turns you around, making you gasp, and finds the zipper of your dress. Your skin rises into goosebumps when he pulls the tab down. He nibbles at the crook of your neck, pushing the top of your dress down to your waist. You shimmy your legs out of it as his hands invite themselves to your skin.

His all hands and mouth around you as he removes your strapless bra and guides you to lay down on the bed.

The fire that lights up his eyes sears through yours as he slips out of his unbuttoned shirt. He then props a knee on the bed, hovering over you, and lowers his head to kiss your stomach. His tongue darts out and draws a circle around your navel. Your head falls back on the mattress, as he leaves a trail of wet kisses up your torso. He nibbles once more at your neck, increasing your arousal up to eleven.

“Michael, please,” you groan as he presses himself between your legs, grinding slowly behind layers of fabric, coaxing your juices to stain your underwear and growing himself a hard-rock erection that can barely be held by his boxers.

Lifting lifts his head, he props himself on his elbows, and surveys the tortured expression on your face as his hips keep relentlessly moving.

“Fuck, you're goddamn gorgeous, baby,” he exhales, proceeding to swiftly rid you off your panties, and pushing his pants and underwear down.

He drives his hardness inside you with great care, pushing inch after inch of that monumental erection that stretches your slicked walls. You close your eyes as he experiments with his thrusting, molding your opening to its generous size.

“Is this how you imagined this?” he pants against the corner of your mouth.

“No. This is better… Much, much better,” you purr, palming his ass, encouraging him to move faster.

If you had a free hand, you'd pinch yourself to check if this is really happening right now. It still blows your mind thinking that Michael Berzatto is deeply buried inside you, wanting you, claiming every cell of your body for his enjoyment. You gladly surrender to his desires as the cadence of his hips drive you into madness. As much as you try to contain your moans, he does everything in his hand to force every moan, curse, and breath to fly out past your teeth.

He slams into you with passion, bites your skin, grips your tits, devours your mouth, setting every inch ablaze. It’s as mind-blowing as it is fast, but he earns himself a good squeeze of your walls when he brings you to orgasm. He comes undone just merely a second after, releasing a wild grunt that ripples all over your skin, and pouring all his warm seed into the depths of your pussy, having his hips jerking erratically until he’s spilled every drop.

His cum sticks to your walls as he rolls to the side of the mattress with a grunt. Your head is spinning out of its usual axis, overtaken by that powerful boost of endorphins, and your lungs struggle for a deep breath.

For a long minute, you both stare at the ceiling while you regain your breath.

When he composes himself, he turns to the side to look at you, sweetly letting one of his fingers brush your cheek, “do you wanna do this again tomorrow?”

“Can't. I'm leaving, remember?”

“Right.”

“But you can stay the night if you want. And repeat later. And maybe one more time even later. Would you like that?”

“I'd love to, sweetheart.”

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Ziehen

Chapter Thirty One

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Zachariah, Crowley, Dick, Bobby, Sam and Benny

Word Count: 2053, with other media

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, talk of extra-curricular activities coming up, a thirst trap because Jensen has been unfair lately, Benny being a teddy bear, and Bela trying to make amends

Series Masterlist

“And between record store day and Phantom Traveler’s release, Q2 is looking to break records for us,” Zachariah droned on.

“Well, it’s the least they could do,” Dick added glibly.

You couldn’t roll your eyes, you were on camera, but you wanted to. Crowley didn’t reply, but Zachariah chuckled and took a beat to agree before going on down the line of his report. Bobby huffed, but kept a lid on it, which told you how much he knew Dick was right.

“Things are shaping up well with pre-orders and the appearances Bobby and company have lined up between Vegas and New Orleans with the album release.  should outshine their previous album sales by a wide margin,” Crowley tacks on, almost bored with the success.

You set that up, not Bobby, but you kept your mouth shut, nodding.

“Y’all can thank Y/N for that, you know,” Bobby said gruffly.

“Of course,” Dick agreed offhandedly, eyes darting down to other parts of his screen.

Thank God for Bobby. You simply smiled and kept listening.

“Sounds great, people! Let’s check back the week of the release to ensure we’re still on track. We’ve got a lot of numbers to move to get in the black here, but I see good things happening,” Dick smarmed and instantly sent a meeting invite for the following month. 

“Thank you!” you replied dutifully and closed the window for the chat. After accepting the invite and adding it to your personal calendar, you exhaled long and hard. You checked your phone, Bela had called again and left another two text messages. You ignored her. She could wait.

You called Bobby for a mix of mutual griping and to debrief about where that put you all going forward. 

Without even a greeting, Bobby started, “I swear they get dumber every quarter.”

“Tell me about it. Thanks for having my back in there, though, I was starting to see red by the end.”

“You and me both, darlin’.” Bobby huffed. “The amount of stuff you get done is amazing. Even without all the run-around from the last tour, you are doing more than anybody I’ve seen in your position. We appreciate ya, even if the suits can’t see past their nose jobs.”

You beamed.

“Thanks. So, what’s on the agenda for the week? I know Dean and Sam took Gibson and Pamela to the zoo.”

“Yeap. Got the Midway Museum tomorrow if you have time, got tickets for anybody who wants to go. Might be good time for pictures if you need some candids for the socials.”

You knew this was his way of telling you to come, he even gave you justification for doing it on so called work hours.

“Maybe. I might just steal some from the band. Too much to get done before the show on Thursday.”

“Well, you’re welcome to join us if you get caught up or not.”

“Thanks.” It felt like all you could say to him today. It was a small word with a lot of connotations, but you were grateful. You owed Bobby so much. Though he never gave anything he didn’t want to give or for any form of repayment. He was too good for this industry. They all were.

“I’ll keep you posted. I have calls with the next couple of venue coordinators today and then some event security stuff tomorrow morning with Benny for some non-venue signings and stuff.”

“You still want to do the battered women's shelter thing?”

“The domestic violence survivors fundraiser in Vegas? Absolutely.”

Bobby hummed.

“I know what you’re thinking, Bobby. And that’s exactly why we’re doing it.”

“Do you think it looks like pandering?”

“I think it looks like community service. And if I didn’t think Dean could handle it, I wouldn’t have signed him up for it.”

“Even after that little disappearing act on Saturday?”

“Dean is a domestic abuse survivor, Bobby. Part of what he’s gone through is accepting that.”

“Yeah, but Cas—.”

“Cas is still family. And he didn’t press charges. And you know Dean—- penance is something he needs to do for himself, too.”

Bobby sighed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Trust me, this is still my good side.”

Bobby actually chuckled at that. “I bet! Okay, I should get going, promised the missus we’d hit the shops before dinner.”

“Have a good one.”

“Alrighty, bye then.”

You smiled at your desk as Bobby hung up. He was happy and Annie was good for him. It didn’t matter their pasts, they made it work, and made each other better along the way.

Which seemed utterly remarkable and unattainable for somebody like you.

But if anybody deserved it, it was them.

You put down your phone and pulled up Twitter, it was time to dig through the chaos and do what you did best: highlight the good, the band's synergy and the new momentum and bury the bad. 

Which seemed to include you this time around, unfortunately.

After Twitter, you tackled Insta, Reddit and even FB, though most people cross posted the same images and anecdotes, some people only used one of the bunch. And some only used them on pain of death, namely Dean. Meanwhile, Bela had posted a couple of great shots from the afterparties, which you liked as the band and as yourself. 

You were crabby, not petty.

And busy, damnit.

The next morning, Sam smirked at you when he caught your eye in the hotel’s gym. He was already sweating from running outside, but must have come back to stretch or work something more intensely. What you weren’t expecting was Dean to be hot on his heels, equally as sweaty, equally as mischievous.

“Trouble! How’s business?” 

You rolled your eyes and took out an earbud, not sure you really heard them.

“What’s up?”

“We’re gonna lift— you want in?” Sam was teasing you now.

You pedaled stiffly and shook your head. “Fuck no, I’m good here, got another ten mile circuit after this breather.”

“Suit yourself,” Dean taunted and grinned before he crossed his legs and touched his toes. What the hell? Luckily there was only one other guest using the elliptical, so they weren’t being complete nuisances, yet.

They weren’t even directly in your line of sight, otherwise it could have gotten awkward, and distracting.

Still, you felt them keep glancing at you, making faces, and even cheering for you when you shifted up with your ass out of the seat to get the best angle for the various hills. You flipped them off, but kept your eyes forward and your earbuds in place.

Thirty minutes later, you groaned and stepped off the stationary bike. Dean and Sam had been talking more than doing curls with the free weights, obviously being dorks about each other’s efforts.

Boys.

“Good workout?” Dean asked as you sanitized your equipment. Sweat clung to your oversized tank top, all down your back, and between your legs. Thank god you wore your black workout leggings today.

“Yeah? You?” You smirked as Dean made a show of extending his movements slowly and pointedly. Yes, Dean, your arms should be illegal, you thought.

“Good, uh— need help stretching?”

You looked at him a little dumbfounded and then back at Sam, who seemed just as surprised as you were by the offer.

“Nah, I’ve got my bands and stuff in my room. Though, I bet Sam would love to see you try and bullshit your way through a cool down routine,” you tacked on, trying to laugh off the offer. Inside you were imagining Dean’s weight against you, pushing your knees up and out, flexing your hip joints with his thick fingers digging into the meat of you…

“Hey! I was just being nice.”

“Dude,” Sam muttered.

You sighed and gave Dean an apologetic smile. “Maybe another time.”

You pretended not to hear the series of slaps that happened behind your back as you made your way to the elevator and your generic hotel shower.

Benny treated you to lunch after your video calls with the S.A.F.E. House staff and the one with the folks at the radio station who’d be interviewing the band the morning of the first Vegas show. 

“Saw your tweet on Cas’ post,” you added thoughtfully, midway through your shrimp po boys.

“Yeah, well, didn’t want him thinking he done wrong by us.”

You chewed and nodded, silently telling him that you got it, appreciated it even. 

“You hear anything else from the guys about the last show, you know, after Dean disappeared and, um, everything?”

You needed to know if the guards were loyal, but mostly you wanted to know what they had seen.

“Seemed pretty anticlimactic to most of them, from what I hear. Dean came through, sober and clean as a whistle. —Even the venue goons didn’t clock anything weird,” Benny pointed out before taking another bite, his teeth flashing in the afternoon sun.

After a few moments, Benny continued. “But, uh, that label stooge you got following Bela? He’s the one to worry about, really, seems to keep his cards close to the vest.”

Damn, you knew he was right before he even finished the sentence. Tiny would be the one to squeal to Crowley, or worse, Dick, at the end of the day. You wondered if you could buy him off or treat him in other ways while on the road. Bela wasn’t scheduled to be around until the second Vegas show, you had some time to figure out his motives. Or if he even cared at all.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

Benny sniffed and looked around the small patio outside the restaurant. “Bela’s not really Dean’s girl is she? She some kind of clout pusher?”

You swallowed and took a long slurp of your iced tea, washing away the now muted flavor of your lunch. “I honestly don’t know anymore, Benny. They’ve definitely been enjoying each other’s company more than I expected.”

“Perhaps—- but don’t you worry none. She’s not the type you settled down with and he’s got eyes deeper than the cut of her fancy tops.”

You huffed. Benny certainly had a way with words.

“It’s okay, Benny— I’m not in a place to be jealous.”

He just raised his eyebrows at you and took another bite.

“I did this— I set them up. I’d guess you’d call it reaping what I sow or something?”

Benny nodded and shrugged. “Or something.”

“You won’t— you won’t tell anybody, right? His story is safe with you?”

“Doll, I’ve been covering that boy’s ass since before Lisa— I’m true.”

“I know, Benny, sorry—- it’s just so much posturing all the time. I just want to take pictures and show the world how badass they are. I want people to hear the stories behind the songs, because it shows they’re human too. Sometimes I wish—-”

“Wishin’ for rain in the desert aint doin’ anybody a lick of good. You know the score, you just gotta beat them at their own game. Dean’s a good man, he knows what’s real. Don’t think we all don’t know that, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Know who your people are, if you trust Bela— then she won’t let Tiny think anything is up. Friends have each other’s back against the world, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, suddenly feeling ridiculously immature for ignoring her for the past few days.

“Eat up, cher. It’s a long tour. You’ll need your strength.”

That was an understatement, but you dug in anyway.

“Y/N, listen— I’ve resorted to leaving you a voicemail. It’s come to that. I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t mean anything disparaging about you the other night— just maybe about how you treat Dean. Not that it's bad, overkill more like, but it’s not like you’re bad or weak for doing it.--- I know how much you loved her, Y/N, I know. Him too, it seems. I just don’t want you wasting so much of your life trying to make up for losing her. It hurts to see you so— subservient. You are so much more than an errand girl. So I’m sorry for my lack of tact. But I’m not sorry I brought it up. Okay? There. Call me back and yell at me properly already, Jesus.”

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 32: Tronco

[mackeydoodledoo]

She Wears Short Skirts, I Wear T-Shirts: Chapter 3

Pairing: Bridget (Cheerleader AU) x (Fem!)Reader

Chapter Summary: Continuing on hanging out with Bridget, she invites you to one of her Cheer competitions, however, you have a band competition the same day...

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, Swearing

Chapter Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, F/n = Friend's name, B/n = Band Name, Bold/Italic = Flashback

Chapter Theme: Aftertaste - Katie Gavin

A/n: n/a

------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Y/n's POV* You walk into school Monday, everything going back to its bleak, bland self...

"Hi Y/n," Bridget comes up to greet you

"Hey you," You smile

The both of you walk around the school...

"Your Sunday go okay?" She asks

"Yeah, I just went to work and finished any homework I had yet to get to," You say, "You?"

"Yeah, I got to sleep in," She says

"That must be nice," You say

"Hey so I have a question," She says

"Yeah?" You ask back, "Shoot."

"This Saturday, I have a cheer competition with the town's independent competitive cheer team," She begins, "It'd mean a lot to me if you came."

Wait...

"This... Saturday?" You ask

"Yeah, why?" She asks

"Band has a competition," You explain, "The competition that determines whether our and goes to State Finals..."

"Oh," Bridget puts on a smile, trying to hide that she was sad

But, she was terrible at hiding her sadness emotion.

"I'll try," You say

"You will?" She asks

"Of course," You smile, "I've never been to a cheer competition before. So it's bound to be an interesting time."

The both of you stop at her first period.

"Okay, I'll text you the details in like... the next few days," She says, "Hopefully I'll see you there..."

She disappears into the classroom.

+*+

You sit at the front desk at the record store...

Man.... Working some weeknights sucks...

But, you were able to make a few extra bucks whilst being in high school.

But the entire place was dead, other than your manager who was in the back, doing god-knows-what.

Hey whatcha doing? I'm at work... So bored... You? Laying in bed, where do you work? The local record store. Oh! I didn't know you worked there. Guess I'll have to come visit ;) It would sure beat being in here by myself. Don't you have a manager with you? I do, but he's always in the office. Part of me believes he only goes back there to sleep and let me do all of the work. Do you want me to come in and keep you company? I'm off soon, so it wouldn't be worth it. 'Preciate it though :) Always. Anyway, I just wanted to text you the information

You watch as your phone dings with the address to the high school Bridget was going to compete at.

Epic, well, I'm going to head out of here and then to bed. Goodnight Pinky. Night Emo ;)

+*+

You walk into the band room, coffee in hand.. You couldn't wait to be done with outdoor band...

"Captain! There she is!" Your bass 5 member greets you

You sigh as you go grab your drum for a sectional.

"You're lucky your drumline instructor likes you all enough to get breakfast," He says, gesturing to boxed up food behind him

"I can take over until you're done eating Y/n," f/n says

*Bridget's POV* You wake up to your alarm and get changed into some simple sweats, but packing your independent cheer team outfit into your backpack.

"I'm heading out," You say to your parents who were at the table

"Okay, we'll see you there," Your dad says

You exit the door and plug in your music as you approach the car parked at the curb of your house.

"Morning Bridge," F/n greets you

"Morning," You yawn

"Want to get coffee before we head to practice?" She asks

"Sure," You sigh

"Hey, you're not your usual chipper self in the morning, spill," She says

"I invited someone I like... And she said she had something very important to do," You begin, "I'm worried she'll miss it."

"First, it'll be her loss," f/n chuckles, "Second, don't let it get to your head today. It's another big day."

You nod.

+*+

You sit with your girls as you all much on catered food.

Hey you, rehearsals going good? Yeah, how about you? We finished, we're packing our equipment into our truck, and then heading to the competition site.

"Okay girls, let's run the routine one more time before heading out!" Your coach yells

You all get up and follow each other to the padded floor for another routine run.

Good luck at your competition. Good luck at yours :)

You board the bus and sit in your own seat as you drive to the competition.

+*+

You step off the bus and follow the coach to check-in. You look at your phone, hoping to see a text from Y/n...

Nothing...

Must be at her competition by now... Or even out on that field...

You set your belongings in the designated area and begin to stretch your body.

+*+

*Y/n's POV* You quickly, but efficiently put your drum away and quickly change into presentable sweats and quickly make your way to your car.

*Bridget's POV* Anxiety runs through you as you travel throughout the school, heading to warm up areas and then to the competition floor.

You've competed in the little Regional class competitions before, and finally earned your wya up to Independent class....

Why am I so nervous?...

As you get into place you look up one more time, hoping to see Y/n in the crowd. Last second, you see someone rushing to the stands. You weren't able to wait any second longer before the music began.

+*+

Your friends split off after they hand you the first place trophy.

"Oh Sweety that was amazing!" Your mom hugs you

"Thanks mom," You sigh into a smile, "I just wish Y/n was able to make it..."

"Oh, you didn't see her as you walked off the floor?" She asks

You blink at your parents in confusion... However, your dad points over your shoulder. Y/n leans against the wall.

"If you're going to hang out with her, go on," Your mom tells you

"We'll see you at home," Your dad says

Without a second thought, you run down the hall.

"You made it!" You practically jump into Y/n's arms

"I said I'd try," She says, "I made it just before you started performing."

So... That person running to the stands was her...

"Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" She offers, "I drove straight here as soon as we got back to the school and I'm kinda starving, and with a routine like that, I'm sure you are too."

Your stomach grumbles...

"You read my mind," You smile

"Come on," She says, "By the way, where's the rest of your team?"

"They all left," You say

"What a shame," She sighs, "I'd wonder if your independent cheer girls would have liked me too..."

"Do you wish for every girl to gawk over you?" You ask

"No!" She says, "Not at all. But, it'd be nice if your friends I have yet to meet would like me."

"I didn't know you cared about first impressions," You smile

"I don't but... Your prized drummer shows up at a Cheer competition," She chuckles, "She's out of her element here!"

You giggle, "Come on, let's get you out of it then."

+*+

Y/n drives to the same diner, and the both of you sit in a booth.

"What's it with you and this place?" You ask

"Could never go wrong with a good burger," They say, "And it's basically the only place I know how to get to by heart."

"Also, how did the band do?" You ask

"We're going to state finals," She smiles

"That's amazing!" You smile back, "I didn't have ant doubts the band wouldn't. They have the greatest drumline."

"Well, not to toot my own horn but we did win the award for best percussion," She says, sounding full of herself

"The town's united Cheer team also took first," You brag

"With a cheer routine like that, I wouldn't doubt it a single second," She says

"When's state finals?" You ask

"Next week," She answers

"That soon?!" You ask

*Y/n's POV* "Well, yeah," You say, "It's beginning to get too cold to do band things. Even if the state finals venue is indoors."

"How will you be able to revise the show on time?" Bridget asks

"You underestimate the ability to change a show with less than a week," You chuckle

"I'm serious!" She says

"I am too," You say, nonchalantly, "There have been times where we have changed a drill set the day before a competition. We all had it nailed in like... Thirty minutes."

"Thirty?!" Her eyes widen

You nod, "You know, if you joined marching band, you'd fit right in with the color guard."

"Really?" She looks at you

You nod again, "They're graceful, badass, and beautiful. They're also scary at times, but that's mostly when we're crossing between them as they spin their props. Did I tell you that they also spin more than just flags."

"I've seen it," She says, "They're awesome."

"Maybe, you should consider giving winter guard a try," You suggest, "I won't force you, but I'll send you some videos from my guard friends. I do winter percussion... As the drum set player."

"Oh, I wonder how you got that part," She smiles

"Well, I started out doing auxiliary percussion, then moved my way up to drum set," You explain, "Drumset is simply an extension of percussion."

"I'd totally come to one of your winter shows," She says

"Well... The ensemble I'm with is out of state...." You sigh, "One of the top 5 groups in the entire country."

"I'll make the drive," She says

"There's a lot of car mileage and gas involved," You attempt to deter her away from making the drive you do

"I don't care, I want to see whatever show you do," She says

"Well then I will keep you updated on my indoor drumline endeavors," You chuckle

+*+

After dinner, you drive her home...

"Hope I didn't take you from family stuff," You say

"They didn't mind," Bridget says, "As always, thank you for driving me home."

"Anytime pinky," You reply, "I shall see you on Monday."

Chapter 4

[jesterthestar]

☆ | author's note : hello ! Im so sorry for not posting for so long. :33 I have been feeling bad lately , but now that i spent most of my pocket money on energy drinks ... or vapes ( i have been drinking one per day for 20 days straight ) so it gave me an idea.

★ | warnings : gn!reader ; fluff mostly ; cursing ( from reader mostly ) ; modern!human!alastor ; might be un canon ; can be seen both as planotic and romantic ( no specifics ) ; reader is in university ; alastor and reader are both in their early 20s ; in this AU alastor is not a murderer.

Well it has been a while since you properly slept.

Your grades , for the most part weren't great so you spent hours to days studying without a stop until you were just dizzy from not eating for days on end. And not only that but your grades were still hot shit , which worried you since you didn't want to lose your scholarship. It wad already rare , so you were "blessed".

As you opened the apartment door the sounds of jazz met your ears , Alastor was already home. You didn't want to make your boyfriend upset , mostly about your habits , but you didn't know what to do to keep yourself a bit fresher than you wanted to be. You drifted into your thoughts as you took of your coat and hung it , then stepped into the apartment... well , stumbled. It would be much more fitting.

"Ah , dear , didn't notice you there ! How was your day?"

Alastor said with a smile as he helped you with your bag.

"Shitty , as usual. I think i'll fail geomtery this semester."

You exclaimed. Alastor chuckled as he led you to the kitchen.

"Well i think if you actually were healthy your grades would be much better so i-"

"Al. Babe , you don't have to take care of me , im not a child. It's only a month until the exams so i need to study non stop."

You gave him a gentle kiss on the head. He always cooked for you , every evening so by now your humble little apartment was nearly a food storage. You felt guilty and ungreatful , he worked hard and you just ended up brushing it off.

You went to the fridge and took out another energy drink... for gods sake it was the 3rd one today. Alastor took your wrist before you could open it.

"Darling i insist... and i'd prefer that you stopped drinking those ,it's bad for the heart ! And i don't want you getting more sick. Besides , it's saturday and i think you should give sunday out to take care of yourself."

You stared at him with your tired eyes. It was ... true. Everything he said was true. You barely payed attention to him even , which made you feel worse. You sighed before you brushed off his hand.

"Last one , Al. I swear i'll eat later."

You opened the can and took a gulp.

You realized it barely even helped you at this point , even though you had like a whole stash in your fridge. It was now a mere apitizer for your pathetic little life.

"Ugh , fine."

Alastor calmed down a bit and as you sat down at the table he placed a plate in front of you then sat across you , just watching you.

"You're not gonna eat ?"

"Oh , i already did."

"You know you don't look any better than me."

Alastors expression became annoyed. You looked like a skeleton and could barely lift up your bag, which wasn't that heavy because it was all just notes and papers.

"Fine , fine , im sorry."

You said before a shaky chuckle escaped your lips.

"You better be."

"Oh nooo , im so scared of mister thin tall and bad."

He forced out a laugh.

"Be greatful that mister thin tall and bad keeps you fed."

You couldn't complain about that. Your boyfriend was an absolute charmer. You decided to continue eating in silence.

"Maybe i'll have the honor to sleep with you tonight instead of you sleeping on your desk ?"

You just nodded. The idea was great ... but you'd lose 8 hours of studying.

"What do i get in return?"

"Oho , what do you get ? I think you got enough. Consider it... payment."

You laughed at your boyfriend.

Honestly you sometimes thought how'd you even get him into your arms. He was the one to initiate every move at first. Gifting you various gifts and even helping you with your home task, which you failed... plenty of times. He was such a charmer , and you were a clean paper. It seemed irrational

You snapped out of your thoughts... literally , ad Alastor snapped his fingers in front of your face.

"Eat up. We have to go to bed soon."

"I love you."

Alastor stared at you for a good moment before he slowly chuckled with a sweet voice.

"I love you too... but you still hsve to eat."

His hand lifted up to your face and wiped the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

What a sweet night.

♱   | ok but i would LOVE to live like that. I cry for 2 hours straight when i come back from university or work. ( average adulthood life )

[specific-dreamer]

she'll be someone who is lovely (someone wonderful and true)

Summary: His brothers are super annoying, so Darry prays to God and asks for a sister. Note: god is mentioned so much omfg. content warning for that, but in my defense the curtis' did go to church before their parents died. im positive whenever he remembered he use to say his prayers before bed. anyways i digress heres the AO3, but its only like 499 words so its under the cut too

“Junior, go ahead and say your prayers. I’ll be back to tuck you in after your brothers.”

Darry rolls his eyes and drags his feet all the way to his room. He didn’t mind saying his prayers before bed, but the mention of his brother’s did irk him a bit. He loves them dearly he swears it, but by God were they annoying today. 

First, Ponyboy kept bugging him to read with him and when he wasn't doing that he was constantly asking Darry stupid questions. Darry what's 120 times 89? Darry, can you pick me up? Darry, why’s a table called a table? Who named it that? Of course, once Pony got started Sodapop joined in on the questions too. Except his questions were more rodeo based and before Darry knew it he was being forced to take Soda to the races on Saturday. He was not at all pleased. He had plans on going to the arcade with Bev and Paul on Saturday; Bev was not going to be happy when he cancels on them.

 He’s getting distracted, he’s meant to be praying not complaining. With a sigh, he closes his eyes, gets down on his knees, intertwines his fingers, and rests his forearms on the bed. 

“Dear God, thank you for this glorious day. Please continue to bless my family and my friends because they're pretty cool too. I pray that the soc’s get nicer, because they’re really mean, Lord. What’s the deal with that?” He pauses. What else does he need to pray for? Oh right. “And, not to sound ungrateful or nothing, Jesus, but can you give me a sister or somethin’? Pony and Soda are so annoying! They always wanna do what I wanna do, but sometimes I just don’t wanna hang out with ‘em. So, please give me a sister. Thank you. That’s it, I know you got other prayers to listen to. In Jesus name I pray, amen,” he finishes.

“P.S,” he adds, crawling under his covers. Hopefully God won’t mind the addendum. “Please please please let her be nicer than them. I know I’m ‘sposed to tough and all that, but Soda and Steve keep on jumping on me and it’s gettin’ mighty annoying. That’s all, in Jesus name, amen.”

It was, in fact, not all. He kept adding to his prayers until he was fighting yawns to even get the words out. To be fair though, if God answered his prayer, He needs to know that Darry wants a nice and kind sister. She wouldn’t be gross or weird like the other girls and she wouldn’t make a big fuss about getting dirty like they do. And she’d have to get along with the guys; he’s not too sure he could keep a sister if the guys didn’t like her.

Before he finally falls asleep, Darry decides to just write a list for God when he wakes up. That way God won’t have to strain his memory too hard.