#it's been a hot minute since I posted for this AU but I felt inspired today :)

[mwolf0epsilon]

After the close call in Anchorhead when he came down with Gray Rot, Cody is much more cautious with his health and how it may affect his size-shifting. It wouldn't do well to slip up again, and he really doesn't want to cause any unnecessary destruction just because he threw caution to the wind again.

The experience did show him that he can trust Abuela however, something which he's very grateful for. Obi-wan, Alpha-17 and Luke have been a great support system (Luke brightens his day by just being his joyful and occasionally snippy self, which is still a very important thing since it boosts morale), they can't always cover for him. Abuela being in the know at least gives him someone who knows about his condition while he's away from home.

The only con is that he's back to thinking about his brothers who are still under the hold of the Empire, and how much he wishes he could help them. Maybe it's about time he started thinking about more than trying to make a life for himself. Maybe he should start thinking about freeing the brothers working in Imperial outposts on Tatooine...

[sparklysung]

✨MEDDLE ABOUT – s.j.y.✨

© sparklysung – 2024. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – sim jaeyun x female!reader

genre – smut | non-idol!au, university!au, strangers to lovers!au

warnings – kinda dom!reader (?), awkward!jake, oral (f. receiving), a bit of grinding maybe (?), mentions of alcohol and weed, pet names (mainly pup or puppy), physics major!jake, chemistry major!reader, reader calls jake a nerd lol. lmk if i forgot something!

word count – 2.370 words

summary – the one where jake ends up on his knees, eating you out after meeting you in a crowded bar. 

note – so i guess i’m back? from the dead? i’m so sorry if anyone cares that i literally for like a hot minute:’) i’m approaching the end of my university program so i’ve been super busy in the past couple years. stressed? all day every day. wanting to graduate asap? hell yeah. anyway, this was obviously inspired by meddle about – chase atlantic since i’ve been obsessed with them lately. pls lmk what you guys think, i’m trying to get back into writing and this is the first piece i’ve been able to finish so far lol. but pls be kind with me or i’ll cry lol i’m really anxious about posting again but fuck it we ball. this was also not proofread so ignore the errors if you find any lol. also lmk what y’all think about maybe starting a playlist type of series? with different idols and songs?

well, come and get it now,

when jake agreed to go bar hopping on a regular wednesday night with his friend group, he was not expecting the chain of events that would lead to where he was now. 

sure, he was hoping for a good time, especially since wednesdays were designated ‘dollar beers’ and the usually expensive alcoholic drinks were at a more accessible price. it was the perfect opportunity for broke college students to go out and get drunk while on a budget. 

that was why he did not put up much of a fight when jay let him know about their plan for the night, quickly coming to terms with the idea that he was going to have to show up to class horribly hungover. he knew no matter how many excuses he offered, jay was not going to take no for an answer. 

so, at 8 pm, jake took one last look at himself in the mirror, psyching himself up for what the night had prepared for him, before heading to jay’s place. 

come and get it now. 

“you made it.”

jay commented as soon as he propped the door to his apartment open, a satisfied smirk adorning his face. 

jake trailed behind his friend like a lost puppy, a bit anxious and painfully sober. once they reached the nicely decorated living room, the group was finally complete. 

by the look of it –if the others’ flushed cheeks were something to go by–, the night had already begun. 

his friends were chatting loudly, the sound of laughter and alcoholic beverages being passed around filled the otherwise neat area. the cold night air made him shudder as he joined the group, the smell of weed coming from the balcony making his lungs burn. 

baby, show me what you’re doing, 

before he knew it, jake found himself surrounded by sweaty bodies, the stuffy air enhancing the effect of the weed he had smoked earlier. the music blasting out of the multiple speakers scattered around the bar, the bass making his body feel numb. 

jake joined his friends, dancing with not a single care in the world, the concerns about school quickly slipping out of his intoxicated mind. 

it felt great to finally be able to relax for once. 

however, just as he was starting to enjoy the night, he somehow managed to make a fool of himself. 

“fuck,” jake yelp, utterly embarrassed. “i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t mean to spill your drink!”

come and turn around. 

“you can make it up to me by getting me a new one?”

the sound of your melodic voice made his head tilt upwards, following the source, shame washing over his body when he got a look at you. 

you were hot. 

a little stunned by your pretty face, he struggled to say something. 

“o-of course!” he blurted out a little too loudly for comfort, and jake’s cheeks grew hot when you giggled at his awkwardness. 

we only met each other just the other day,

“i take it this is not your scene?” you wondered out loud, obviously trying to start a conversation with the cute boy. 

“uh, something like that,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head, visibly nervous. “i don’t usually go out on weekdays, especially when i have class morning classes the next day.”

“i see,” you hummed, thinking about your own morning classes tomorrow. but who cared, right? have fun now and deal with the consequences later. 

“so, uh, what’s your program?” you smiled to yourself at his attempt at keeping the conversation alive, relieved to know he interested in you enough to engage with you.  

“chemistry.”

his eyebrows shot up at your words, impressed. 

“no way, i wasn’t expecting that.”

“yeah? what’s yours?”

“physics.”

you gasped loudly, feigning shock, and he smiled abashedly. 

“good thing i’m into nerds.”

but you already got me feeling some type of way. 

you were so bold with your words, so smooth with the way you flirted with him. your honey-like voice had him blindly agreeing with you, almost in a trance-like state. you could be asking him to trade his soul for a chicken nugget and he would instantly agree, no questions asked. 

the way you blinked at him, long lashes fluttering so innocently as your glazed over eyes stared straight through him, spiking up his heart rate. your body leaned closer with his every word, fingers toying with a loose strand of your silky hair in such an endearing way his fuzzy mind could not comprehend. 

it had to be illegal to be this attractive. 

and you were guilty as charged. 

now, if i could figure it out,

one thing led to another and soon your lips were on his plush ones, leaving a kiss that felt like a cup of hot chocolate in the winter. warm and sweet. 

jake was able to shake off the initial surprise and deepened the kiss. one hand found its way into the nape of your head, pulling you closer, and the other to the small of your back. his touch was hot and reassuring, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours. 

your short dress rode up revealing more of your thighs as you reached for his broad, strong shoulders for support, your weight leaning on his athletic body. and to your delight, you could already feel the hardening bulge in his pants. 

he pulled away, his breathing uneven and lips swollen, appearing dazed. 

“wanna get out of here?”

i’d take you back to my house so we can meddle about. 

jake barely managed to lock the door before you were pushing him against it, arms going to wrap around his neck to bring him in for a kiss. your hungry lips on his, your hot body against him, the scent of your perfume. the combination of sensations overwhelming his senses and leaving him panting for air. 

he couldn’t get enough of you. 

jake noted to thank jay later for almost dragging him out of his house. 

your ministrations, the gentle but eager touch of your hands and your searing lips on his sensitive neck had jake struggling to keep up, far too aroused to think straight. his pants had become considerably tighter since he met you earlier. and he couldn’t help but push his hips into yours, searching for some much needed relief. 

the giggle you let out at his desperate attempt at humping you had a frustrated whimper almost escaping the poor boy. 

so pretty.

“aw, is my puppy getting impatient?” you asked in the most taunting tone, getting off on teasing him. 

“y/n, please, i need something,” jake pleaded, cock throbbing in his jeans. “anything.”

and who were you to deny such a polite boy?

somehow you both managed to stumble into his room, hands never leaving the other. 

‘cause it’s not just a figure of speech,

jake’s body fully sprawled on the bed trembled when you brought a hand to cup the tent in his jeans. his groans only grew louder, raw with desire as you slipped your hand under the fabric and made direct contact with his length. 

jake thought he was having a fever dream from how stupidly hot his body felt. each caress of your soft hands had him weak on the knees, hips bucking to follow your touch, not caring about how needy he seemed. 

your panties were drenched as you felt him up, mouth watering at the thought of his dick fucking your throat until you choked. 

but that could wait. what you needed right now was his mouth on your dripping core. 

you got me down on my knees. 

“fuck, please,” he whined, “let me taste you.”

jake looked at you from his place on the floor, looking all desperate to get his hands on you. you could see his pretty eyes shining even in the darkness, a glint of need letting you know just how much he wanted you. 

slowly, you lifted your dress to reveal your underwear, your fingers teasing the hem of the garment. 

he swallowed, his mouth uncomfortably dry. his own fingers itched to reach for you and get your panties off himself, too eager to get more of you to wait.

your eyes scanned the boy in front of you, eyebrows scrunched together, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. despite your limited vision, you could easily make out the outline of his cock in his pants. you almost wanted to jump straight into business just to get a look, wondering what shade of pink it was.

key word: almost. 

“what’s wrong, puppy?” you teased, biting back a smirk. when he only huffed in response, you decided to push further. “speak up, sim, i asked you a question.”

his hard cock twitched from the confines of his jeans at your tone. 

you looked annoyed, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for an answer. 

“i need you, please,” his words came out slurred, too horny to care. 

you nodded, raising a brow at him. “it wasn’t that hard now, was it?”

his body almost vibrated with excitement when you pulled your panties down your legs. you stepped closer to him once they hit the floor, and his eyes immediately shot to the discarded piece of clothing, breathing getting heavier when he found the wet patch at the crotch. 

among the wide range of traits you possessed, liar wasn’t one of them. the sight of him, on his knees, begging to please you, had you rubbing your thighs together. your neglected core dripping with arousal. 

“be a good pup and eat me out.”

jake perked up as soon as his brain processed your words, scooting closer without a care for his knees. he hummed when you gasped at the feeling of his tongue licking a stripe up your slit. 

it’s getting harder to breathe out. 

jake groaned when you pushed his head closer, his nose digging into your pussy and putting pressure on your clit. his hands immediately went to grab at your thighs, gripping them for dear life. 

he was enamoured with the way your hips bucked into his mouth, your plush lips letting moans escape. it was like music to his ears. 

girl, just scream it out,

jake could barely breathe but he didn’t care. all he could think about was the intoxicating scent of your arousal, how sweet you tasted on his tongue. he could feel a mixture of your juices and his saliva drip down his neck, and he felt like he was about to cum in his pants like a bitch in heat. 

his hips desperately humped the air, too engrossed in making you cum all over his face to feel embarrassed. your fingers tangled in his soft locks, tugging at the roots whenever his tongue swiped just right only egging him on to work harder. 

tell me what you’re thinking about. 

“j-jake,” you whined, feeling the knot in your stomach tightening at the speed of light. “don’t stop.”

bet, he thought. 

if the way your thighs were trembling around his head was something to go by, he knew you were close. 

feeling you fall apart just from his mouth only was driving him insane. he couldn’t wait to see you take his cock, velvety walls stretched around his thickness. he wanted to hear your sweet moans as you struggled to fit him whole, pussy too tight for such a big dick. 

hell, just the idea if it had jake eating you out like he would never get pussy ever again. his skilled tongue poked at your entrance, trying to push it as far as he could, relishing in the squelching sounds filling the room. 

“fuck,” he moan into your pussy when you pulled his hair a little harsher than before, the vibrations directly against your clit sending you over the edge. 

you swore your mind blanked out for a second there. your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, leaving you light headed. your body convulsed as if you were experiencing a demonic possession first hand, hips humping jake’s face like a rabid dog, riding out your high. and if it weren’t for jake’s grip on you, you would’ve hit the floor. 

once you regained a hint of control over your body, you pushed his head away from your sensitive core. 

to your satisfaction, jake looked as equally as fucked out as you. his once pristine shirt was now clinging to his toned body due to the sweat, his dark hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead. his pupils were blown out, chest heaving up and down at a concerningly fast pace. 

you had him exactly how you liked men, utterly ruined. 

with a sly grin on your face, you pulled him back up on his feet by his shirt. before he could yelp, your lips crashed against his in a heated kiss. jake stumbled towards you, unintentionally pressing your body into the cold wall behind you.

his hands grabbed your hips to pull you impossibly closer, need to feel more of you. your fingers wandered back to his hair, playing with the strands of silky hair and hissing against your lips when you pulled a little too hard. 

his body felt like it had been lit on fire, the touch of his large hands almost burning you, leaving behind an invisible outline of his hand on your skin. the kiss you shared grew more passionate, more desperate with each passing moment, your tongues waltzing to the pace of your fast-beating hearts. 

although you were enjoying the heated exchange, you both needed more. 

no, i wanna see you undress now. 

you hastily removed your clothes, tossing them somewhere in the room. jake followed suit, matching your eagerness, ready to pounce on you the moment he got the chance. 

soon you found yourselves all over each other once again, hands touching and feeling up the other’s body, lips finding each other with a growing intensity. 

jake placed you on his bed, looking down at you like you just escaped his wildest dreams. 

i wanna hear you confess now. 

“i want you to fuck me, jake.”

–lia:)

[peachsayshi]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni)  ↬･tags: heartbreaking kind of angst; pining; reader is gojo’s sister; geto has tattoos; au; age gap; reader is twenty two and geto is twenty seven; mentions of alcohol

⥽ notes: keeping this open ended because I may write more on this. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ older brother’s best friend geto x female reader (inspired by this post) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

your heart refuses to steady herself as she continues beating erratically, knocking against your ribs and begging for release. you’ve waited patiently for her to return to normal, but she sings even louder as you push her to the of her back of your mind, chanting on and on about a love that she refuses to remain silent about. 

it’s been weeks since the kiss; days where you spent countless nights wide awake while thinking about suguru. when you close your eyes, the memory plays back like a dream, the feel of his lips etched perfectly in your mind as familiar as the air you breath. 

he was so slow, so gentle; guiding you with patience while sweetly explaining what to do with your lips and tongue. he whisked away your nerves with the brush of his tender hand, trailing it slowly to the back of your neck to hold you in place. you expected him to pull away once you got the hang of it, but instead he continued exploring.

it made your stomach flutter, stirring a heat deep within your core that made you a little lightheaded. 

your own nervous hands reached to hold him by his strong shoulders, the touch resulting in suguru to swing his free arm around your waist and pull you right up against his chest. 

god, he was strong, you could feel it in the grip of his palm and the way he maneuvered you around like a rag doll. 

minutes might have passed, but you could barely count the seconds once you felt his weight collapse onto you. you were trapped underneath his broad chest, legs slowly intertwining around his hips as he pinned you horizontally onto the sofa. 

you were buzzing from head to toe, tingling fingers reaching for the strands of his beautiful mane. then there was the roll of his hips, moving at a graceful pace, pressing the heavy weight of his erection right up against your jeans. 

you whimpered, pulling away from his lips for a moment to pant out his name. 

you felt him grow still, tangled between your limbs as if registering the moment himself. he dropped his head down to your shoulder, mumbling a curse under his breath before carefully pulling himself back upright. 

“shit, uh...” he exhaled, a hint of shame masking his ever so handsome face. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.” 

you didn’t know what to say; a part of you was desperate for him to continue, to  familiarize yourself with desire in every capacity, but instead you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and mumbled “it’s alright,” quietly. 

you haven’t seen suguru since - not alone, at least. 

the two of you stayed in touch with the occasional calls and texts, but you’ve been itching for a repeat of that moment once again. 

���⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

tonight is your chance, and your heart won't stop pounding. 

despite knowing everybody at suguru’s birthday party, you still can’t help but feel isolated from the crowd. you were standing in the corner, trying your best to remain cool as you carried on your conversation with shoko and utahime.

you were holding your purse protectively close to your chest, securing the small but neatly wrapped present inside. your eyes kept glancing to the rest of the party, scanning over your brother’s loud personality taking up most of the space in the room, and trying to find his quiet, dark haired counterpart. 

your cheeks grow scorchingly hot when you accidentally made eye contact with suguru. 

you quickly turned away, taking a sip of your drink to cool yourself off. 

he looked unfairly good tonight. his hair tucked away in a perfect bun and he dressed to mirror the striking night sky in all back. you envied how he effortlessly carried himself, not a single ounce of uneasiness wavering his confidence.

still, you didn’t want to come across as desperate, wanting to uphold the same level of aloofness that he did about the kiss.

it’s a casual thing, you kept repeating to yourself but your heart fought back with a convincing rebuttal.

you were grateful that you were able to play the wallflower tonight, finding moments of solitude to yourself just to recollect your thoughts. you managed to slip away from the crowd for a moment, and headed over to the kitchen. 

just as you opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water, you heard a honeyed voice speak from behind you.

“hey, you” 

you almost backed up right against the fridge as you turned on your heel when suguru walked towards you, your knees instantly buckling from the nerves.

you glanced around the room and realized that there was no one else around.

you finally earned your moment alone with him. 

you felt like a teenager staring up at the beautiful boy you knew you could never have, but you mustered up a single string of confidence to share a lovely smile and greet him with an eager “hello”.

there’s a look in his dark eyes, one of recognition and intrigue that sends a tingle up your spine. you shift anxiously from one foot to the next, clutching onto your water bottle as he reaches for a beer. 

he cracks it open against the table, and you can’t help but clench your thighs as you noticed how his muscles tense, causing the veins in his forearms to protrude slightly against his intricate tattoos.

he holds your shy gaze once more, taking a sip of his beer before offering the bottle to you. 

“want some?” 

you politely shake your head no, and in turn he just smiles. 

“not your thing?” 

“I’m not a fan of the taste - it’s too bitter” 

“hmm, quite understandable coming from someone so sweet” 

his comment left you speechless, left you standing there with parted lips and a slightly dumbstruck expression. 

of course, suguru notices, and he finds the opportunity to sew up the dividing space separating you both. 

“you look nice,” he compliments, doing very little to help the blood pumping heavily into your ears. 

you look down at your outfit - the one you carefully pieced together like a complicated puzzle.

your heart is giddy, skipping over itself with excitement that suguru even noticed. 

you squeeze the bottle against your sweaty palms, hoping that your flushed expression wouldn’t make itself obviously known. 

“thank you,” you reply coyly. “satoru said I was overdressed...” 

“I think we both you know that your brother is a bit of an idiot,” suguru remarks with a quirk of his brow, “don’t take everything he says to heart” 

it killed you how easily you swooned, posing as a weak challenger when in combat against him. 

you laugh under your breath, your shaky hand placing the water bottle back onto the counter. you fold your arms close to your chest, trying your best to to even out your courage as you find his eyes once more. 

“I don’t,” you reassure him before gently reaching to tug at his soft black tee, “happy birthday, by the way. I-I- didn’t really get a chance to say it properly yet,” 

suguru nods his head politely in acknowledgement, “thank you, I’m glad you came tonight...”

“you are?” you ask a little too hopefully, a little too earnestly from how your brows upturn with curiosity. 

“of course,” he states matter of factly, “you’re just as important to me as everyone else in the room” 

his words send a tremor down to the space between your legs. you can literally feel yourself throbbing for him, and the way your eyes glaze over with a filter of pretty pink hearts is evidence that you didn’t need any alcohol to inebriate you when he was doing the job all by himself.

“I got you something-” you whispered, but your voice was drowned out by yuki. 

“oi, did you disappear with our beers, suguru?” 

“no, sorry,” the man replied, ripping apart the tension by casually grabbing a couple more bottles in his hand. “I’ll be right there...” 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

as the night was drawing to a close, you were starting to feel more and more like a fish out of water. shoko’s home was now filled with friends and associates, each person moving between the crowd like they simply just belonged there.

being the youngest person in the room, you felt wildly out of place. you check the clock just one more time, before deciding it would be best to end the night…but not before you give suguru his present. 

you informed satoru of your departure, to which he asked utahime to offer you a ride home. 

“text me the minute you are back at your place, alright?” your brother insisted with a protective tone. 

“I will”

“I just have to use the bathroom before we head out,” utahime informed as she reached for her own purse. 

“that’s fine, but, uhm...do you have any idea where suguru went? I just want to say bye...” 

“I saw him stepping outside for a smoke with his friends...just be mindful of the one with blue hair...” she explained. “I’ll meet you by my car when you’re ready okay, sweets?” 

you nodded your head. 

you kept an eye out for him as you traveled through the crowd, holding the gift protectively between your fingers. there was a tightness in your belly from the building tension, but you were hopeful that he would like the present that you thoughtfully picked out for him. 

sliding one of the glass windows open, you stepped out into shoko’s garden. the stone pathway was lit up with candles, radiating the many shades of green around you, but as your eyes scanned the scene an audible gasp left your lips when your heart froze. 

when finally, after weeks of conducting it’s own music, it stopped beating.

there was suguru - his back up against the wall and his arms around someone else.

one hand was digging into the fabric of her purple dress, the other tangled around her light hair as their lips locked in a heated kiss…and they were completely engrossed in one another. 

you couldn’t move, you couldn’t even breathe - it’s not the first time you’ve seen suguru kissing somebody else, but this particular one paralyzed you then shattered you into a million little pieces on the floor. 

your fingers and toes went numb, your bottom lip trembling uncontrollably as you found the strength to turn back around with hot tears pricking your eyes. you wiped the rogue ones that fell down your cheeks, aimlessly meandering through the crowd as you hastily make your way over to utahime’s car. 

all the while thinking how stupid, how so incredibly foolish, you are for falling for someone so far out of your league.

for loving a man who was completely unattainable to you.

[kpopcafeeee]

Call me baby like before

Paring: johnny suh x fem! reader

Genre: smut, Exs to lovers, collage au

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:frat boy ex Johnny! Smut, kissing, moaning, fingering, public sex(hot tub) IM SORRY, begging, degration, dom johnny,sub reader, hair pulling

Summary: you and Johnny broke up 5 months ago and hasn’t seen each other since the break up until there’s a pool party hosted by his a fraternity you and your best friend haechan go there just to have fun but you went there for and fun until you found another reason to go

A/N: this is my first post and I’m really nervous if I misspelled something please contact me!!!! And also if this goes well I’ll do more stories about nct and other groups and here’s my inspiration kinda😅

ENJOYYY:)

“Haechan what if he’s there?!” You yell to your best friend “then ignore him and have a good time” he says as he drags you to the car while the others are waiting for you two. You, haechan, Yuta, doyoung, taeyong are all going to the pool party together as friends. You hear the horn beep several times until a random person addresses the sound as you and haechan runs to the car “took you assholes long enough” Yuta says “we were about to leave your asses” doyoung says

“ anyways we have to make one stop before we go to the party” while doyoung and Yuta were in the store getting the beer together you and taeyong and haechan were in the car on your phones

You were looking through insta until you say a specific story on insta was a taeil and jaehyun taking a photo until you spotted Johnny in the back kissing a girl

Haechan saw your face frown so he took your phone “don’t worry about him have some fun” haechan said he was trying to make you feel better he pulls you into a hug and you start to smile and feel better

When doyoung and Yuta came back with the beers it was time to go

You guys made it to the party on time and decided to split up when you guys go inside and go have fun and get drunk, you had on a red bikini with a transparent cover up to make you look sexy and ready to have fun you and haechan have fun together and jump in the pool together,You guys have fun and enjoy the party and while you guys we’re having fun you met a cute guy named mark haechan winks at you and starts to blend in with the crowd at the party,

you and mark starts talking and you feel like your being watched by someone and starts to feel awkward so you tell mark that your going to the bathroom and you’ll be right back, while walking to the bathroom you hear footsteps behind you but brushes it off, when you come back you and mark starts talking again until you wanted another drink you told mark and he said he’ll wait until you come back again when you went inside the loud house to get some drinks for you and mark you still felt like you were being watched and so you hurried to go get the drinks you make it to the kitchen where all the drinks were and grabbed to beers out the fridge until you felt someone behind you turned around to see your ex Johnny fucking suh, “missed me baby?”

His gaze making you feel small under him you try to push him away but he’s to strong “no I haven’t now move” you say but he doesn’t budge at all instead he moves closer to you making you feel his breath in your ear “you know you miss me I’ve been looking at you all night and you’re not even interested in poor mark” wide eyes you look at him face redder than a tomato “ I-i don’t know what your talk about” you say stuttering “oh yes you do baby you know your still interested in me” he holds your chin with his finger to make you look him in the eyes “so why are you lying baby?”.

You try to push him away again but he doesn’t move a bit still after a few minutes has passed he takes your hand in his and leads you outside again and going in the hot tub this time and marks sees this and you give him a sorry look and he gives you a it’s ok look and goes inside to go talk to haechan and his other friends “aww looks like he’s gone” when you and Johnny get in the hot tub your sitting on his lap facing from him you can feel his cock getting hard under the water “so you like dressing up as a slut” he says while playing with the hem of your bikini, he slides your bikini bottom over to reach your cunt you where already wet from earlier and while walking to the hot tub, he slips two fingers inside your cunt and starts fingering you, you gasp from the contact trying your best to hold your moan in biting your lip very hard to stop it

He starts kissing your sensitive spot on your neck that he likes he knew how to please you and knew how to get you on your knees quickly so it didn’t take him that long from hitting your sweet spot in your cunt he hits it repeatedly and you let a out a small moan saying his name “j-johnny” “you like that” he said your orgasm was about to come until he stopped feeling emptiness in your cunt you whine until he takes his fully hard cock out and slightly lifts you up and starts pulling you down until he’s fully in you, you moan from this earning a few stares until Johnny pinched you to be quiet and take his cock

He starts off slow until a random group got in with you guys so Johnny pulls out of and you whimper “get up and follow me upstairs” you follow his orders and you guy make up stairs it was a little more quiet than downstairs and outside Johnny pushes you on the bed and takes off his swimming trunks quickly and throw them behind him he takes your bottom of and throws it on the floor, he pushes himself inside you he grunts your name when he was fully inside “y-y/n” he was trying his best not to cum right there and then he’s been inside you multiple times and you were still so tight, he starts at a slow pace then speeds up his pace “j-johnny fuck me!” You cry out you can feel your orgasm approaching, you start clenching around him until “f-fuck y/n” he says he’s almost there too but he wanted you to cum first he starts speeding up his pace more and your orgasm finally comes and you cum over his cock he’s still going until he reaches his high and cums in you

He pulls out of you and goes to his bathroom to clean you up after your clean, he goes to take a shower the party ended 2 hours ago you got a message from haechan “HURRY UP” you texted him that you were with Johnny and was going stay the night after he got out the shower he laid next to you and while you were drifting off to sleep

“ I love you Johnny” you mumbled he chuckled under his breath “I love you too y/n” “promise me we will be together forever and call me baby like before

By: kpopcafeeee

[itsaash]

O'Knutzy Week! Prompts: Bucket hat & Summer Vacation

I'll be posting parts making up one story each day this week! It's a cubs au where Finn's spending the summer at his parent's house in the Hamptons and Leo is their private chef. yes, inspired by those amazing tiktoks. Logan will be revealed tomorrow 😏

Characters by @lumosinlove, for @oknutzyweek2023

Part 1

It was a day of full July heat, the kind of day that promises a summer full of sunshine, and you can already smell the sunscreen and salty air. Finn and Leo were sitting outside eating dinner, Leo had laid out a large wooden cutting board covered with the fixings to make world class sandwiches. He had arranged the meats, cheese, sourdough bread, fresh rolls, and chopped vegetables in a beautiful rainbow across the tray. It had been entirely too hot to even consider turning on an oven. 

As was their way on these long hot days of summer vacation in the Hamptons, Haley and Ramsey had eaten earlier, and then they spent most evenings at some friend’s or another, returning to the city most weekdays. Finn and Leo tended to eat together a bit later in the evening, so the temperature had blessedly gotten down a few degrees. Nevertheless, they sat in the garden under an umbrella, the shade surrounding them and the smell of the evening flowers beginning to fill the air. Finn always had a book (or ten) to work through editing and he had been spending his days moving with his laptop and piles of manuscripts from one place to another, working in every corner of the property as his attention ebbed and flowed. But on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, mysteriously the best work spots seemed to always be in sight of the kitchen. Those were the days Leo was there. 

Leo had been working for Finn's parents for a few years now, in the city and at the Hamptons house. But Finn had been away at school and he had only met Leo a few weeks ago when he came home for a summer in the Hamptons. Leo was tall, taller than Finn even, his hair a bleached golden blonde and sky blue eyes that reflected the summer sky. Today, despite the shade of the umbrella, Leo also had a bucket hat perched on his head, mostly blue, with designs of nebulas and stars and space decorating it. Just the ends of his blonde hair curled out the bottom of the hat, and Finn’s eyes darted from Leo’s eyes to those teases of hair and back again approximately every minute.

Having Leo around was both a motivation and a distraction for Finn. He lived for the time in the afternoon when Leo would sit down, taking a break after cleaning up lunch and before he needed to start making supper. Knowing that was basically the only time of the day that Leo would stop was quite an effective motivator for Finn. He would make sure that he had done as much as he could in the morning so he could coincidentally have those hours free too. They had gone for walks, sat in the shade and read together, or sometimes Finn pretended to do his work and really covertly watched Leo make his elaborate grocery lists. Because the food Leo made was nothing less than amazing. 

This Sunday night, Finn was finishing his turkey on sourdough, the tang of the bread combining perfectly with some sort of perfect sandwich sauce that Finn suspected Leo had made himself. The flowers were all in bloom and the trees were the bright green that they got after the spring rains. It was glorious. Finn felt a tether between his heart and this place, this property that he had been coming to since he was a kid. But there was something new growing in his heart too … and it seemed to bloom on the weekends. He doesn’t want it to end. They switched to a fruit pie with cream and sure the food was great, but it wasn’t only the call of his taste buds that prompted Finn to jump.

“Hey, um, Leo?”

“Mmm?”

“I know this is kind of weird, of course you can say no, you wouldn’t have to cook at all! But would you want to stay this week? We can just… hang out?”

Leo paused, gazing at the big brown eyes looking up at him so hopefully.

“Oh, um, that’s real nice of you Finn! But my … boyfriend is expecting me back in the city.” 

Finn’s heart skipped about three beats, then raced to catch up. Boyfriend! But, boyfriend.  

“Oh yeah! Of course!” There was a long pause as they took bites of their pie. Finn felt disappointment fill his belly even more than the food did. Of course Leo had a boyfriend, he was funny, and sweet, and so gorgeous. Even as beautiful as the property was, he didn’t relish week after week with nothing but his work to keep him company. 

“He could come too!”

“Really?” Leo looked up, seeming surprised. “That’s a very kind offer, you don’t have to do that.”

“No really, if you like him, he must be great. And it doesn’t have to be anything else. I just love having you around. I don’t like being alone all week and Alex is barely coming up this summer at all. So, next week, do you want to bring him, and you guys can stay? I promise you don’t have to cook a single thing.”

A smile blossomed over Leo’s face as Finn rambled at high speed. 

“Well, he is actually on summer holiday right now. He’s a teacher,” Leo said. 

Finn perked up. “Wow, that’s so amazing, that’s even better! What’s he teach? I’ll cook, I promise I’m not trying to get extra work out of you.”

“Mmmhhmm, and what do you usually eat during the week then, Finn?” Leo asked, and Finn knew he was caught. 

“Well, nothing like you make, obviously. But I couldn’t put you to work here during the week too.” 

Leo smiled. “Well, I’d be cooking for myself and working on new recipes at home anyways. I don’t mind making some for you too. But maybe I’ll let you do the cleaning up.”

Finn felt a prickle of excitement tingle under his skin. “I can clean up! Dishes, sweeping, I know where everything goes, I can do that.” They laughed, Finn glanced away at the line of trees in the distance. He was being too eager. He took a breath.

“Well I’ll have to ask Lo, but I’ll message you tomorrow what he says, OK? It really is such a nice offer. I know Lo would appreciate getting out of the city after a busy semester.” Finn nodded eagerly. Lo and Leo. He wanted to spend the summer out here, but most of his friends were in the city. But next week he could have Leo and Lo in his house. He smiled to himself, trying to keep his excitement in check. They finished their sandwiches as the evening melded into the perfect temperature. Finn showed he could be true to his word by helping Leo clean up, happy for the chance to talk, and to plan and hope for what they could do next weekend.

[madefortherain]

4, 12, 22 for the game ❤️

hi!! <3 putting my answers under a cut bc i started rambling like mad lmao. apparently idk the concept of shutting up

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

oh, lord, how long do you have? i have SO many ideas HAHA but i after i finish my current wip and my femininomenon fest contribution, i think i’m gonna have to write this au that’s literally taken over my brain atm!! so,,, hear me out: a wolfstar au inspired by divergent. like, no, those books are not literary masterpieces (and the plot went off the rails after the first one) but!! i reread them when i was sick earlier this year and they’re SO FUN. wow. like the first book honestly slaps. action-packed!! trashy!! i eat it up.

now let me explain: so you have remus as tris, right? stuck in abnegation, his father’s on the council, his parents are the perfect abnegation members. remus has never felt selfless enough. he wants more. he wants. he hopes his aptitude test will tell him what to do, but– oh, no… his results are inconclusive. he doesn’t know which faction to choose; the test was supposed to tell him what to do. he’s always been drawn to dauntless, but could he betray his parents like that? could he be so selfish? anyway, then, (uhm…divergent spoiler?) he chooses dauntless. he’s the “stiff”. he’s awkward, gangly, a transfer. not what you think of for dauntless; the opposite, really. somehow, he has to survive initiation. otherwise, he’ll end up factionless. or dead. and, even worse, he has to learn how to hide the fact that he’s divergent. enter: sirius as four. the transfer-initiates’ mysterious trainer, also a faction-transfer, the guy with the lowest number of fears on record, hiding secret family trauma (among other things). and, oh, he’s also hot as fuck. sirius is drawn to remus, finds him interesting, smart, brave. and remus is just as drawn to him. etc, etc!!

notable moments would include: the knife throwing scene, ferris wheel climbing (!!), drunk scene near the chasm “you look good, remus.”, the attack on remus as he starts to rise in the rankings w/ intervention from sirius, “what’s ur tattoo?”, going through sirius’ fear simulator together, yada yada. i’m also picturing minerva as tori, lily as christina, james as zeke, and peter as al (iykyk) ;)

plot would either divert or just end after the events of book 1 bc i really don’t care for the whole genetically pure/damaged thing. but, yeah. i think it would be super fun to write :)

also i’m so sorry if you haven’t ever read/watched divergent bc i fear i did not explain that well unless you have a basic knowledge of the plot lmaooo 😭send me another ask if you want more details. i’m clearly v happy to yap about this!!

12. a trope you’re really into at the moment

ooh, this changes WEEKLY i’m a trope lover!! there will never be too many tropes! i’m gonna go with secret identities (is that a good way of wording it? idk) like, particularly with wolfstar, when they either only know each other by moony & padfoot, not full names, OR they meet online and don’t know that they actually already know each other irl. always delicious to read!!

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

god, yes. yes, 100% i worry about it. it’s a scary thing to put your work out, especially since i have a tendency to find things wrong with my writing after about 5 minutes of posting it. i think mostly it’s helpful for me to remember that at the end of the day, this is just a hobby! i’m doing it because i enjoy it, and i share it because i love the community aspect of fanfiction. if i spend too long worrying about how others perceive my work, it takes away the enjoyment and then it’s not worth it anymore. i’ll stop writing the story that i want, and start trying to write what i think others want. i’m not trying to be a perfect, professional writer or anything, i’m just writing fics for the fun of it :) and as long as i have fun writing, that’s all that should really matter. if other people enjoy it, as well, that’s a really nice bonus! but not everyone will, and that’s okay, too. some of my favourite fics would probably never be professionally published works, but that’s the beauty of them!! they’re weird, and wacky, and niche, and the product of the author’s immense love for the story. and those are the things that make them perfect to me :)

[thefandomdirtymind]

Christmas traditions

Disclaim : It's a Alternative Universe version of Taz who never decided to actually became an actor and just decided to write play. It had been inspired by that adorable video and a post I saw saying that we should put Taz in a Rom-Com so well I did loll I hope you will like it and a merry Holiday season !

Taz AU

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

---

The holidays, like every year, were illuminating with his colorful light and magical decorations the streets of London. From the shopping district of Carnaby street to the Buckingham palace itself, the capital was ready to celebrate. 

In a more modest corner of the city, where the cold wind of december was also making known his presence. Taz was burying his hands in the pocket of his jacket, his destination, a small theater stuck in a sandwich between an indie coffee shop and a vinyl seller, already in his field of view. 

Waiting in line for the opening of the door, many adults and childrens were braving the winter weather, a small paper cup of hot beverage in most hands. When two teenagers, dressed up in red and green velvet costumes were entertaining the kids. 

For months now, Taz had helped his friend Thomas plan this event. Trying to give a wonderful and magical Christmas moment to the less fortunate family, working with charities and organizations to give and share with those childrens a memory they would cherish for the years to come.

Writing a play about a Christmas fairy tale wasn’t usually his cup of tea. But, after much encouragement from his friend and research about christmas folklore, he had finally finished the script, hoping it would put a smile on their small faces.

Pushing the door of the artist entry, the recomforting noise of last minute check up greeting him, Taz smiled. Of course, seeing his play being performed on stage was alway magical, but, the behind the scene and the conception of the magic was also one of his favorite parts.

“ Taz ! You’re just in time, where about to start. Did you see all those families outside ! “ His friend exclaimed, his toddler daughter in his arms, juggling to keep the child comfortable and his clipboard away from any scribbling incident. 

“ Yeah, it's amazing man !  It has brought so many people, will you have enough stuff  for the kids ? He asked, waving gently to the little girl “ Hello princess Emma “

“ Uncle  Z !!” Emma exclaimed, waving his little hand, joy radiating off his little two year old body.

“ I hope so, for the moment everything is under control ” Tom said, turning his head to the side before sighing in relief. “Thank god Y/n had been able to pass the security “ 

“ Wait Tom. She’s here, why is Y/N here ? “ Taz asked, another type of knock suddenly invading his stomach. 

“ She had offered her help to babysit Emma when I was busy on stage, why ? “ Tom replied, watching now his friend with an amused smile on his lips “ Is that about your little crush ? “ 

“ Dude, I don’t have a crush, I’m not twelve “ He replied, rolling his eyes. “ I just didn’t have much chance to talk to her that all “ 

“ Well you will tonight, because she and Emma will be seated with you “ The man mischiefly said before agitating his clipboard above his head, signaling their position to the woman. “ Y/N Here ! “

Watching you approach, admiring the simple but cute look you had chosen to wear for the evening, the multiple tones of light of the room accentuating your natural beauty as a small straw of your hair caressed your cheeks. Taz felt his heart miss a beat. 

Being shy wasn’t in his usual nature. Yet, when it came to you he often had trouble understanding himself. Since the first time he saw you placing those books, perched in the ladders at Thomas bookstore, he hadn’t been able to forget you. Neither that summons enough courage to tell you more than two words he instantly judged stupid. 

“ Hi! i’m sorry to be late, I had some late customers “ You apologize, taking the little girl in your arms “ Hello miss Emma, is that a new dress ? “ 

Happy of the attention, the little girl nodded proudly, kicking his feet in an attempt of showing her, as well, new little mary-sue shoes. 

“ Adorable” You commented, adjusting the child on your arms before meeting the gaze of Taz. “ Hello Taz” You said, a soft smile spreading in your lips. 

When Thomas had introduced you, a few months earlier, you weren't sure what to think exactly of his gorgeous friend. You had heard so many stories of crazy adventures they had, before the bookkeeper decided to settle down after he adopted Emma. That you aren’t sure how to react when, to steal the words of your boss, a walking beam of sunshine, was preferring to isolate himself in the small office, that talks to you. Of course he had been polite and you knew perfectly that the man had a job to do, so you had tried to help him as much as you could, bringing him books on winter folklore and often little snacks when you noticed he was still in the office after many hours. But, after a while of two word discussions and half-smile, you had simply deduced that sunshine Taz disliked you.

Until one night, as you were preparing to close the store, your manager asked you the strangest question. 

“ Y/N, did Taz talk to you today ? “ He asked, putting the day's money in the bank envelope.  

“Other than asking for a book, no, why ? “ You replied. Placing the last book of your pile at his place. 

“ Nothing, it’s just kinda funny and refreshing to see him out of words for once” Thomas laugh “ I hope he put them all in that play “

But, by the time you realized the meaning of his words, Taz had finished the script and was passing less time at the bookstore than before.  

“ Hi Y/N” The man simply replied, fidgeting like most of the time with one of his rings.

“ Everybody in place, it’s time to open the door ! “ You heard as the gaze of Taz was still lingering in you.

Wishing Thomas to break his leg, you slowly make your way to your seat, trying to focus our attention on the little girl and not your flustered cheeks. 

As Taz was trying to focus on the play, his winter fairies and other magical creature taking life before is eyes, he couldn’t entirely stay still, trying to catch of the corner of his eyes the manies expression of joy and magnificence as he could, even if right now, your was by far his favorite. 

A smile plastered on your lips,the little girl clapping his hands on your laps, you seem to enjoy as much, if not more, the ferric world in front of you than many of the kids. 

When Santa Claus came on stage,to the joy of the kids but signaling the end of the performance and the debut of the other activities, he left out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

As everybody left their seat, taking the direction of the festivity room, he simply followed you, taking one of Emma's little hands as you were holding the others.

“ Congratulations Taz, it was amazing “ You told him, as the little girl in his arms was dancing  to the christmas music in the room, putting a tender and amused smile on his lips. 

“ Thanks, the book you gave me had helped a lot “ He replied as the child was now contortion herself to be put down. 

“ Olin !! Uncle Z down, down !! “ She screamed, surprising Taz as you let out a little laugh.

Putting down Emma, Taz confused, looked her ran to a little boy not much older that three. 

“ Ahem, I guess I will have to break the terrible news to you. Our little Emma here is kinda in a terrible scandal you see, she had kissed little Colin on the cheeks at the yesterday reading event. But, last week it had been the little Anthony over there, when he saw it he had claimed on the spot he will marry her, even if rumor said that he had promised the same thing to his own mother. “ You softly laugh, looking at the small childrens dancing all together. 

“ I’m truly heart broken” Taz laughed, the usual tension he was feeling around you dissipating slowly under your radiating smile. Of course you had smiled on many occasions before. Yet,maybe it was the situation,or the way you had told the fun little child gossip, but he suddenly felt more relaxed around you. “ It was actually a great story, we should maybe do a play about it ”.   

“ Absolutely” You nodded, laughing at your turn. “ I will close the store tomorrow, maybe you can come and we will see what could happen…in that play ?” You softly suggest, hoping that you didn’t misunderstood Thomas. 

“ Yes that..that could be great “ Taz replied, clearly surprised before offering you a joyful smile. 

“ ncle Z, ncle Z ! “ Emma exclaimed, jumping to attract his attention,trying to catch his hand.” Want to see Santa !” 

As the event ended,the two of you weren't able to talk much, between taking care of Emma and helping Thomas with the details. However, as you were putting on your coat, you heard him call for you, the little girl fondly asleep against his shoulder. 

“ See you tomorrow then ? “ He asked, that damn pretty smile on his lips. 

“ See you tomorrow” You confirmed, smiling as well. 

— 

The next day, with your flow of customers trying to be ready for Christmas, didn’t give you much time to be nervous about your evening meeting. 

However, as you were turning the little Close sign, wishing your last customers a Merry Christmas, the little excitement caught you and gave your smile a little extra spark. 

As Taz was stepping in the close little bookstore, you were patiently waiting for him, a winter folklore book in front of you. 

“ Hey” He greeted you, smiling, closing the door. 

“Hey “ You replied, smiling as well, leaving your seat to meet him at the door. “ I was thinking of all those tradition and folklore you had put in your play and I realize that Thomas was right, you had miss a really important one” 

“ Oh ?” Taz asked, watching your smile take that adorable turn he had so often saw when you were joking with Thomas. 

“ The mistletoe “ You answer, pointing at the little branch newly installed above the door. “ Of course it's an old and outdated tradition but…” 

But, you never finish your thought as the lips of Taz meet yours, his cold hand seizing your waist. 

“ I think I should definitely learn more about this one” He softly laugh against your lips

Laughing, you came back for another kiss, ignoring the little snow starting to fall on London, creating your own mini Christmas fairy tale.  

[tragicclownwrites]

im curious, when did you first get interested in squidbob?

Ooh, my first ask 🤗 and what a great question to start with!

It's honestly such a weird story lmao but the short version is that I didn't find SquidBob. SquidBob found me. 🧽🐙

As for the long version, answering/rambling below the cut!

I think it happened just under a year ago or so? It was definitely sometime in late 2022/early 2023. Before then, I wasn't even remotely in the fandom and was more or less part of the group who had seen SBSP but wasn't involved beyond that.

When we were younger, my sister and I played Battle for Bikini Bottom on the PS2. So when the "Rehydrated" version came out, she hit me up and was like "omg they made a remake! we have to play it!" and I was all "hell yeah! nostalgia ftw!" (def worth it - it's a good time and everyone looks so damn adorable 🥹).

If you've played that game and you're in the fandom, you're probably pretty familiar with this moment (clip actually starts at :12). 😉😂 HOWEVER, this wasn't even the moment that initially caught my attention. In fact, it was actually THIS one between Robot Plankton and Robot Spongebob (who is terrifying btw). My sister and I got to this part in the game and were just...👀👀. Like, why was Robot Plankton (who is essentially a clone of real Plankton) thinking of Robot Spongebob like that? Kinda gay if you ask me. Long story short, I shipped PlankBob (ironically) for a hot minute lmao.

I started looking online to see if anyone else was crack-shipping it up like I was and I think that's when I came across SquidBob in earnest. I had remembered seeing some rather interesting moments between them in the past, but strangely never thought anything of it until I started looking below the surface. A few YouTube clips later, my memory was beginning to refresh - and those clips weren't even close to exhaustive! I just couldn't believe how unsubtle these two were! Like, HOW COULD I BE SO BLIND!?

For shits and giggles, I then decided to check AO3 to see if there were any fics about them. One of the fics I came across was none other than NBYF - the very fic that inspired my first work in this fandom! After reading it like four times, I was HOOKED. I needed more. So, I ended up on Tumblr and have been here ever since. 🥰

For added backstory, I've been in and out of fandoms over the years, but never felt the need to be active in any of them. Whether it was fandom discourse, fleeting interest, etc., I didn't want to get involved in any of that and, oftentimes, the canon just didn't inspire me to create my own works.

Needless to say, I'm so thankful to have found this small corner of the internet. Everyone has been so cool thus far and it's been really fun to write fics for SquidBob. I've always been a bit of a sucker for the grump x sunshine ship dynamic, so this pair is just perfection. 🌧️❤️☀️✨ One of these days I'll do an entire post about why I ship them. Someday lol. And given how episodic the SBSP show is, that actually helps a ton for writing - it's great to be able to stay true to the canon while not committing to any solid timelines or anything like that. I mean, even the actual show has continuity issues, so no one can fault me if I decide to switch things up a bit. 😜 I tend to prefer canon divergence vs. AUs when it comes to fanfiction as well because I really enjoy the challenge of working with an existing world/characters and creating a unique story for it all.

So, that's my fandom origin story. Not the most cut-and-dry (and probably not what you were asking) lmao but that's essentially where it all started! I'd be interested in hearing when/how you got into SquidBob hell, if you haven't already posted about it. 😊

[primofate]

Genshin x fem!reader [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] Manager reader gets hit on/harassed

Note: IM BACK FROM VACATION I recommend you read “How it’s like to be their manager” first before this one. Gives it a lot more perspective :)

Scenario: During an away game at another school, you catch the eye of a senior there. Little did he know that you’re the Genshin team’s manager and how much trouble he just caused for himself. 

Warnings: SEXUAL HARRASSMENT but still SFW, swearing, profanities, fighting. platonic relationships.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Tohma, reader as the team manager

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Lost.

It was like one of your traits. Getting lost easily. You sigh and look left and right to see if anyone was in the hallways to help you get back to the gym, or at least give you directions.

“Those guys...are gunna be worried if I don’t get back soon,” you sweatdrop a little and laugh nervously, picturing your childish team just losing it when you come back late. “I better hurry,” you mutter to yourself, pace quickening the slightest bit, just as a door to one of the classrooms slide open with a thud, revealing a spiky haired guy who stares and blinks at you. You take that opportunity to ask the guy where the gym is. 

Back at the gym where the team is doing warmups and practice receives, Tartaglia starts getting antsy and annoying. “Where’s Y/N-chan~~?” He sways back and forth. Zhongli sighs at his middle blocker, “She’ll be back soon, she just went to look for a vending machine,” They still had an hour to go before the practice match, so Zhongli wasn’t that worried. 

“Hmmm? It’s--HIT--been a while--HIT--since--HIT--she’s been back --HIT--though--HIT,” Kaeya states. Sentence cut off in pieces as he tries to keep the volleyball up in the air, his tied up blue hair starting to stick to his neck because of the sweat. Still, the team keeps practicing, up until 10 minutes later when even their captain starts to get antsy. 

“...Captain, don’t hide it, just admit you’re worried for her too,” Tohma states with a harmless laugh. Zhongli muses and finally sighs, “I have to stay here. Someone else go and look for her,” and immediately seven hands are in the air.

Tartaglia waves his hand “Me, me!”

Kaeya raises his hand “I’ll go!”

Diluc does too “I can do it...”

Albedo follows “I remember the layout of the school,”

Kazuha volunteers “I’ve got good instincts,”

Xiao gingerly picks his hand up “I’ll bring her back fast,”

and finally Tohma’s hand is high in the air, “I’ll find her!”

Of course everyone wanted to go... Zhongli decides he doesn’t want to deal with it and tells his team to go with rock paper scissors. Watching them battle it out really made him wonder how the hell he kept this team together. 

“YES!” Tartaglia pumps his fist in the air as he, Kazuha, Xiao and Tohma win the simple round of rock, paper, scissors. Kaeya, Diluc and Albedo are silently sulking, but continue their practice. “We’ll be back soon!!” Tohma waves at them as they exit the gym, starting their search on the ground floor classrooms.

Back where you were, you’d been following the guy for at least 2 minutes now. He said he’d lead you to the gym...but...it seemed as if there was less and less people to wherever he was taking you. It was the ground floor, at the end of the hallway where lockers lined both side of the walls. Suddenly the guy’s hand is wrapped around your wrist and he pulls you towards him. You instantly resist, pulling your wrist back and keeping away from him. “I-I just want to go back to the gym, my team is waiting for me,” 

You steel your gaze at the guy. If he thought you were just going to stand there and take his blatant disrespect for your personal space, he was wrong. But his next move leaves you feeling disgusted, your skirt hikes up and he grins. “Stop!” you screech and twist your wrist away.

Tartaglia halts in his tracks at your familiar voice. His head turns just as his other three companions does. 

The scene unfolding before him makes. him. see. red. 

Hell, he doesn’t even see anything except the image of him punching that grin off of that guy’s face. His vision zones in on the bastard’s features, he strides over, in less than 5 seconds reaching towards the guy’s collar and slamming him on the nearest locker. “The hell do you think you’re doing?!” You’ve never seen him so angry before, but the realization of what happened has you cowering away, feeling like some dirty thing that was played around with. 

“Tartaglia, ease up!” Tohma runs to try and restrain Tartaglia’s arms. He shoots a look at Xiao who immediately turns around to get the rest of the team, particularly his captain. Kazuha strides over to you, watching as you faced away and looked at the ground, ashamed. 

Kazuha was never one to resort to violence, nor was he particularly a resentful guy. But he feels it. He feels the hatred rush through his veins, but he focuses on you instead. “You’re alright, Y/N,” he places a hand on top of your head and smooths your hair down just as the others arrive. 

Tohma is barely holding on to Tartaglia, his strength matches his fury, but Diluc finally arrives and together with Tohma, successfully pulls Tartaglia away from the guy. 

“Calm down,” the red haired spiker insists, to which Tartaglia only shouts, eyes engulfed in fury and piercing the offender with his gaze. 

“This fucker touched Y/N!” 

Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc freeze at the news. Their heads slowly turn towards the attacker. 

And now all set of 8 eyes on him are menacing, cold and unforgiving.

How dare he.

But Diluc holds his ground, restraining Tartaglia. 

Zhongli’s head turns towards your frame, seemingly meek and tiny and tears pooling around your eyes. 

Xiao hurries next to you as he arrives, the displeasure on his face was immense, specially when he starts wiping off the tears cascading down your cheeks. He grits his teeth “Don’t waste your tears on someone like him,” he knew well that you must have felt ashamed, and that your tears were not something you could control, but it was the best thing he could say. 

It was Kaeya, unrestrained and gurgling with hot anger that lifts his fist up.

But it was not his fist that connects with the offender’s jaw.

It was not his hands that pulled the offender up by his collar once again.

And it was not him who states “Do not come near her again. Don’t even look at her,” 

The whole team freezes. 

It was their captain.

The captain that was always calm and collected. Who always tried to stop fights and apologize for the inconveniences that his team caused. There’s a shiver that runs up the member’s spines at the feral look on their captain’s face. 

And then he drops the guy on the ground once again. The offender panicking and crouching backwards and away from them. “We should report it to someone,” Albedo, sensible and smart as ever, suggests. “...but throwing a few more punches in doesn’t seem so bad...” he adds and narrows his eyes at the guy.

“No, don’t. Let’s not waste our energies,” you firmly say and wipe the remaining tears away from your eyes. Kaeya moves over to your side and slides his jacket off of him and places it around your shoulders. “Okay, princess, whatever you want, we’ll just drop him off at the principal’s office and make a report,” when it really counted Kaeya’s flirtatious nicknames for you were quite reassuring. You smiled up at him a little.

Zhongli passes another glance at you, his fist is still tight next to him but he hoists the guy up and has Tartaglia come with him, since he was the one who saw everything. 

The rest of the team turns to you, with Tohma taking your hand and leading you back to the gym. “You’re okay, Y/N, we’re here,” and sure enough they keep close enough to you to fend off anyone else. Like wolves protecting their pack. You knew the chances of that happening again was slim, but seeing them so concerned and circled around you like a shield was really what you needed right now. 

“...Thank you,” you whisper to them as you arrive at the unfamiliar gym. They all turn back to you with a smile. 

“We’ll beat them to the ground at this game, Y/N, you’ll see,”

Taglist: @softlybeloved @bobaducky @normalisthenewnorm @how-simpy @atasi-luna @berryqueue @hallohun @milkypompon @fadinganchornight @coldstonecrematorium @probablybethere @hanachan_2481 @gultonluvv @batcatistruemaster @plumpkie @amigenshin @foxxtrot-116 @spirlimpo @hadesaedes @minyoustar @yunaholics

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[gyllenhaalstories]

TO BE SO LONELY (PART 2) — AU!JOE BAYLOR  ☎️  

summary: a few weeks after your steamy call with joe, a local phone sex operator, you both agree to meet for the first time and have a little less conversation, but a little more action.

warnings: curse words, smut (dirty talk, blowjob, manhandling, mutual masturbation, fingering, more oral, multiple orgasms, brief cum play, praise kink with some degradation, innocence kink) 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2895

photo credits: zacharylevis (cropped + b&w filter) / divider credits: firefly-graphics

notes: choo-choo, the joe baylor hype train is back in town! i highly suggest you read PART 1 beforehand to understand their dynamic. thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

You waited on the park bench, the one with the neon yellow graffiti on the back, the one under the dead willow tree that had yet to be sawed off, the one that was right next to the swings where kids and parents were playing. It felt safe, as safe as meeting a stranger could be although you knew very well he was more than a stranger, more than a one time thing, more than a friend with benefits. He was more and he was all you wanted at the same time, you could barely make it make sense.

Joe suggested you waited in the park, he told you he wanted to take you out for a picnic someday. He loved picnics. He kept talking about them. On one random Thursday at 2 in the morning when you could not fall asleep, that was when he confessed his love for picnics. He was telling you a bedtime story, which worked in putting you to sleep, about how picnics made life better.

You were outside where the people were. It was safe, it was comfortable. But it was cloudy, droplets of rain fell from the sky every now and then. You had forgotten your jacket, you had to wipe your phone screen dry often.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes xox” Joe texted when he got back into his car from the florist shop. He told you he had to drop something off at the post office, that was a lie, he wanted to buy time. Joe was probably even more anxious about this meeting than you were. It had been three weeks and five days since you called the hotline, he calculated them. Whatever bond you two shared had improved greatly, but he was scared. He was scared you would be scared.

You already knew how he looked, vice versa. You had been intimate in more ways than one. You were dating, basically, but you were both too scared to admit it.

Joe had become an important part of your life, outside of sex. Joe sent you good morning and good night texts. You both exchanged memes. He made a Snapchat and, when you told him about the funny filters, he was unstoppable. You shared a playlist of your favourite songs on Spotify. You watched movies together while FaceTiming. He taught you how to improve your grilled cheese game over the phone. He talked to you about his work, the funny encounters or the hot ones when he used you as inspiration for his dirty talk.

You were dating, and Joe was hoping the thought of you becoming a serious item made you as giddy and happy as it did to him. He was also aware that this meeting could be a deal breaker. What if the distance chemistry did not exist in person? What if you did not like his dry humour? What if you did not like him, at all? What if he made you uncomfortable, after all this time of earning your trust and your affection? What if… What if it all worked out? Joe took advantage of the red light to take a deep breath. He coughed, but he calmed down seconds later while he parked his car.

You shield your face from the rain with your hand and looked around.

He draped his jacket over his head. Joe secured your present and the bouquet under his available arm. He should have suggested another day. He had so many regrets.

You squinted and spotted the familiar face, and body, in the distance. He had a small bag, flowers too? You had no regret.

His face lit up when you saw wave exaggeratedly, but his heart skipped a beat when you stood up from that bench and ran towards him. He had no regret either.

You hugged him, just a little too long and a little too tightly.

He reciprocated the warm gesture, awkwardly. “Hey, gorgeous.”

You looked up and smiled.

Finally, he could see this smile in person.

“I got you something.”

Your attention drifted back to the presents he was handing you. You had just enough time to grab them before his arm rested on your shoulders and he guided you to his car.

“Don’t want you to get soaking wet.” He said, in a protective tone, and looked at you while he reached the other side of his car and unlocked the doors.

“Yet.” You both replied in unison and laughed.

His car smelled of fresh laundry, it was impeccable. He wanted everything to be perfect for you. You deserved nothing less than the best, he made it loud and clear during one of your multiple sessions, and conversations, and late night texts...

You sat on the passenger seat and stared at the bouquet of flowers and the neatly packaged bag.

“It’s not much, but I thought you’d like that.”

You smiled softly and peeled away the paper until you revealed the content of the bag and exploded in laughter. You pulled out two pairs of fuzzy socks.

Joe frowned at your reaction. “What? You don‘t like them, is that it?”

Your hand squeezed his thigh, causing him to melt under your touch. “You managed to find the only two colours I didn’t have yet. Good job!”

“I told you, I’m an expert in the fuzzy socks department.”

“Yeah, just that department.” You winked, he smirked and just like that you were on your way to one of the best afternoons of your life.

*~*~*

Two hot chocolates later and a muffin later, Joe parked in front of your home.

You looked through the car window on one side, then back to Joe on the other. You were buying time.

He knew that, he appreciated that. “Thank you.”

You smiled when he broke the silence. “Keep that for later.”

He frowned and you reached to grab the key and turn the car off.

You instructed him to follow you all the way to your door that you struggled to open up, keys always finding a way to get mixed up or slip from your shaky hands. Why was it that he always brought the most courage and nervousness out of you at the same time? You could not know. That was a question for later, you had much better priorities.

He stood in your kitchen and you blinked away the images of him actually living with you, walking around in mismatched pyjamas and cooking breakfast with you on a lazy Sunday. He took deep breaths, trying to not think of how much he’d love to spend every moment with you.

You put the flowers in a cup on the middle of the dining table and you walked towards him, only to have your wrist squeezed tightly and your whole body pulled in his direction.

He crashed his lips on yours. He hated himself on that very moment for not savouring your first kiss the way he should have, but he needed you. He had wanted this for so long, he had dreamed of this, imagined this, turned this scenario upside down hoping for it to come true one day. He was in too deep.

You were in too deep, too, by the way you moaned against his lips. Your mouth was open for him to explore with his tongue while his hands cupped your face one second and went all the way down to grope your ass the next.

He whined when you pulled away and, as your eyes looked down on the space between your bodies, or lack thereof, he nodded.

You kissed his chin and his bopping Adam’s apple, the bulging veins on his neck. Your hand dragged down his clothes until you were kneeling on the floor, face flush against crotch.

“Where’s my pretty little angel gone?” He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers while you quickly unzipped his pants and yanked them down to his knees.

“She left when I called you.”

“Fuck.” He groaned when you kissed him over his boxers, the shape of him was already defined. “You’re so good to me.”

You nodded in response and freed his cock from his clothes. You watched it bop in front of you and held it up so you could leave small kisses from the base to his tip. You teased him with kitten licks and slow pumps.

He threw his head back and struggled to keep his eyes open. He darted them anywhere, trying to find something to keep him grounded while your mouth enveloped his tip. He noticed the open door to your bedroom behind you and your perfectly made bed. He focused on that.

You took him in your mouth, slowly, and tried to adjust to the size of him. He was bigger than your fingers.

He had warned you of that, calling you dumb and cute for trying to fit your fingers in your mouth and train for when you’d meet while he watched you over the phone.

“It’s not going to fit.” You pulled out and complained, a genuine pout on your face.

“We’ll make it fit.” You put your hands behind his thighs, he put them on the back of your head. And at the same time, you pushed and pulled on each other until he hit the back of his throat.

You gagged around him and choked, coughing.

He checked up on you and when he saw that little smirk on your lips, he went at it again but he realized fast enough he was not fucking you.

You used his thighs to set a pace, a deep and fast pace that covered your cheeks with a tears and made both your throat and lungs hurt from the abuse. You had wanted him inside of you for so long, you were not going to let go until you got what you wanted.

His moaned filled the empty room and made you clench around nothing. He had to fight back the need to explode in your mouth the first time your nose tickled his pelvis, and stayed there. You held him in your mouth until you gasped for air. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You pulled away and pumped him a couple of tips and sucked on the tip of his cock, it was red, swollen and sensitive. You locked eyes with him when you tasted his load on your tongue.

He helped you pull away from him and gave you a stern look to make you open his mouth. Your tongue was painted in white and when you earned the permission, you swallowed all of him and finished with a smile that went from ear to ear.

“Now you can thank me.”

He helped you back on your feet and kissed your lips, softly. He tasted himself when your tongues waltzed together.

“Joe —” he cut you off by roughly ripping the clothes off your body, then his to.

The only explanation you got was a weak, whispered “need you” when you held both of your hands behind your back and kicked on your feet so you could walk faster. He turned you around again and took a moment to print the memory of your lust filled eyes in his mind before he pushed you down.

You laid there, not daring to make a move or say a word. He let you complete your mission only moments ago, and you were more than willing to return the favour.

“Get comfy.” You obeyed and scooted up your bed until your head rested on your pillow. He wanted you, so bad. He wanted to feel you, all of you, and to never let this moment end in fear of it never happening again. He made this mistake once, to burn the steps. He did not want to do it twice.

“Please.” You begged, throwing him back to your first encounter when you begged him to do anything, to give you some type of relief you could not even name.

So, he did. He leaned down to kiss you and stopped only to suck his fingers in his mouth and coat them with spit before they reached your core. He pressed his hand against you, feeling the wetness and enjoying the warmth.

Your eyes followed his arm, noticing the maze of veins on his skin and the definition of his muscles. You took in how mesmerized he was when he spread your folds open with his index and rings finger and rubbed your clit with his middle finger oh so slowly. You exhaled softly when you noticed he was looking at you, studying your every reactions.

“That’s all for me,” his tone made it sound like a question, but you knew it was not the case.

“All yours.” You mouthed and arched your back when he used two fingers to rub your clit in circles.

He cursed. “Say that again.” His fingers dipped in your juices and increased in speed, fogging your mind up too easily.

“I’m yours.”

This was not the romantic declaration you both had imagined, but, somehow, it seemed even better. Joe leaned in for a kiss again, the tender kiss he had hoped to press on your swollen lips. He pulled away, barely, to watch you when he pushed his middle finger in, knuckle by knuckle.

“You’re taking me so well.” He praised you and you frowned. “Yeah, so well.” Joe felt your fingertips brush over his thigh and leaving goosebumps on his skin. He flinched when you wrapped your hand around him and pump his shaft. He moved your hand away and inched closer to the edge of the bed.

You stared at him quizzically until he guided his cock to your mouth and you happily welcomed him, just like your canal welcomed a second finger.

He matched the thrusts of his fingers to the bopping movements of your head, hips involuntarily jerking deeper into your mouth when he needed just a little more of you.

You moaned, basically singing around him.

He had his palm pressed on your clit while he gradually took you closer to the edge. “Gonna cum for me?” You nodded and he smiled. “Do it, let me see that pretty face of yours when you cum for me.”

You eagerly sucked his cock, closing your legs around his hand but that only earned you another sharp and deep thrust that made tears pool in your eyes.

You clenched around his fingers until you got so tight he could barely move, so he used his thumb to rub your clit and make you cum around him in waves of moans and whimpers.

“S-so good!” You cried out, moving your head away from him and causing him to cum a second time, in your open mouth and on your cheek.

His face was twisted in pleasure and he stayed there, fingers still stuffing you up and his cock next to your mouth so you could clean him, and yourself up.

It was impossible to wash away that blissful expression on your face, although Joe almost made you do it when walked around your bed. “Where are you going?” Your heart started to beat faster, but definitely not in a good way. Suddenly, you regretted. It was stupid of you to meet with a stranger, it was stupid to let him inside your house, it was stupid to... “Oh.”

“Going where I belong, sweetie.” Joe spoke, a short distance separated his mouth from your pussy. He erased the distance in no time, licking a long swipe over your folds and he moaned at the taste of you.

Your heartbeat increased, for good reasons this time.

“I told you I’d make you cum all over my face if I was here with you.” He circled his tongue around your sensitive clit, then he suckled on it gently. “Do you remember that,” he spanked your puffy folds, “or have you gone dumb from me barely touching you already?”

You opened your mouth, desperate attempts at speaking words fell from your lips and only added fuel to his eagerness to put his promises into action.

“That’s what I thought.” He was kneeling by the edge of your bed and hooked his arm under your thighs to pull you incredibly closer to him. He arched his right brow when you met his glance. “Why don’t you watch something? A little Netflix and chill while I’m having fun.”

You smiled, grabbed the remote of your television that was on the nightstand and fixed your position to be more comfortable. “Wait...” Joe’s head popped up from between your legs. “You’ll just... Stay there?”

He gave you one firm and confident nod. “For as long as you can take it.” Before you could protest, his tongue dipped in your entrance and his nose bumped against your clit, causing you to whimper. “You’ll lay there and look pretty while you make a mess on my face.” He sucked your clit in his mouth and flicked his tongue over it, slow, then fast, and faster and even faster.

His grip tightened around your legs when you squirmed and squealed for him. Like clockwork, you arched your back and curled your toes while a new orgasm hit you like a tidal wave.

“I know you’ll take it all. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Tepid Bath

@sicktember 2022 Prompt #23

Fandom/OCs: Hannibal TV

Title: Need You Now

Words: 1402

Inspiration: The phrase “I can smell that fever on you” originally came (I believe) from @victoriablackrose and her witcher fics! 

Author’s comments: Much more dark and angsty than yesterday’s fill, but always with a happy ending. It was only fitting to make both of the murder husbands sick this month if I was going to write them twice, so today enjoy the sick, pathetic wet kitten that is Will Graham when he’s missing Hannibal. Set in the same post-canon cottagecore AU as yesterday’s fic. 

Will was in bed when Hannibal returned. He had been in bed for… a while. It was hard to be sure how long. Since he'd fallen into the river, whenever that was. At least a few days, he thought. 

Everything was hazy. Will, alone, wandering around the frozen river, trying to find a good spot for ice fishing. Tired. He never slept well without Hannibal (hardly slept at all, really) and Hannibal had been gone for over a month on one of his mysterious trips. 

Will, out on the ice. Not paying close enough attention. The sudden crack, the splash that at first seemed distant and separate from him, until he felt the cold. Cold, hot, cold, numb. His body didn't know how to respond to the frigid water. He briefly feared for his life as his legs refused to move, to save himself from drowning. But at last he could kick, so he kicked against the rushing water and his wet, heavy clothes. He broke the ice with his arms until he reached a spot where he could stand and walk up the bank. 

He felt as if he were watching himself from a distance as he made his numb, shivering way back to their cottage, almost a mile away. His limbs were barely responsive, frozen as his blood seemed to be, so walking was more than difficult through the deep snow, but he also felt cold, stinging pain over his whole body. His teeth rattled in his head. His arms were locked around his torso in a futile attempt to retain any non-existent body heat. 

He reached the cottage somehow. Unlocking the door was almost the hardest part as he couldn't feel his hands and couldn't hold them still. Somehow he managed that, too, though. He stripped off his frozen clothes the minute he was in the door, frightened at the unnatural, waxy color of his skin. He staggered into the bathroom and started the shower as hot as it would go. 

The shower brought him back to life, at least for a few moments. He could feel again. He could think again. His skin turned pink, then red. He wiggled all his joints, focusing on the sensation. 

Eventually the hot water ran out, so he was forced to leave the shower. He bundled himself into several layers and considered starting a fire in the fireplace, but instead decided to rest for a while in bed. He thought it would be just a nap. He thought he was just tired. He slipped into sleep, wrapped in several blankets, and did not wake again for a long time. 

He partially woke more than once. The dreams would become more solid, and he would realize that he was at home in bed. He would listen for Hannibal, needing him, and be disappointed when he realized he was still alone. It would occur to him that he should eat, or see to his chores, or shower again, but before he could act on these thoughts, the tides of unconsciousness would pull him under once more. 

He was so, so cold. From the moment the hot water had begun to peter off he had been shivering again, through both dreams and waking. He was curled into the tightest ball, wearing several layers of clothes and covered in several more layers of blankets in a well-heated house, but all he could feel was the icy river water. The dreams passed in and out of nightmares, and he wasn't sure if he cried out or just imagined it.

Somehow he knew when Hannibal arrived. There was a shift in the dreamworld. He was aware of Hannibal's presence nearly as much as he was aware of his own. Hannibal's presence was like a rope he could cling to, to help pull himself out of unconsciousness, the thing he needed now more than ever. He grasped it desperately, yanking himself past the surface of the icy river at last. 

Hannibal was speaking to him. Asking him if he was well. 

" 'm tired, Dr. Lecter," Will heard himself mumble, hardly intelligible. " 'm so cold."

"I could smell your fever the moment I walked through the door, and now I can see it, too. What happened?" Hannibal knelt at his side, solidifying even more, and Will tried to focus on his face. 

"Fell into the river. Few days ago. Broke through the ice."

Hannibal's hand on his face made him jump, but it was something else solid that he could cling to, to remain awake.

"Your fever is dangerously high. We must bring it down immediately." Hannibal spoke matter-of-factly, rising to his feet again. He turned and strode out of the room, and Will faded out once more. 

A hand on his back wakened him. The hand was forceful, pushing him to sit up, as was the other hand around his wrist pulling him forward. Hannibal’s face was hovering in front of him again as he was helped to stand. Steely strength outside of his own propelled him to the bathroom. The water in the tub was running, and it had filled about halfway. Will noted all this absently, giving it no connection to himself, until the same strong hands began to strip off his layers of clothing. The cold encroached closer and closer until he was standing naked in the bathroom and being helped into the tub, shivering so violently that he couldn’t stand on his own. 

The water was not warm. The shock of it made Will hiss in surprise and fear. He pulled back from the sensation, splashing and writhing to get away, but the strong arms behind him were unrelenting. 

“In you go, Will. This is for your own good.”

Will couldn’t bring himself to put more of his skin into the water, but he was given no choice. He was pushed down, gently but firmly, until he was lying fully in the water that to him felt freezing cold, submerged up to his neck. He struggled to get out, imagining the tiny bit of heat he’d been maintaining slowly leaching away, but Hannibal wouldn’t let him. He held him in, rubbing his chest and shoulders soothingly. Eventually Will had to stop fighting. Hannibal was still so much stronger than he. 

Will realized after a while that he was actually, finally awake. He looked at Hannibal and truly saw him for the first time. Their eyes met, and held. Many emotions flooded through Will, and he struggled to verbalize a thought.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he finally said. “I needed you.” It felt totally inadequate, yet summed up his thoughts better than anything else. 

“As am I,” the doctor replied softly. “And I’m glad to see you’ve rejoined me now too, in mind as well as body. That must mean this treatment worked. I think I’ve tortured you enough for one day.”  

A gentle hand was offered, and Will took it gratefully as he stepped out of the bath, which he realized was really tepid, not cold. Hannibal quickly helped him dress again before leading him back to bed. As soon as he was lying down, a cold rag was placed on his forehead. Will sighed in relief, realizing the cool was now pleasant, rather than painful. Lastly, Hannibal handed him a handful of pills and a glass of water, both of which Will swallowed gratefully. 

“Thank you,” Will whispered earnestly, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “I guess you’ve saved me again.”

Hannibal chuckled fondly. “As always, it was my pleasure. Though by my reckoning, we’re fairly even on that score. I’m glad I returned when I did, and I won’t be leaving you alone again any time soon if this is what you get up to when I’m gone. I won’t even be able to leave this house for the next few days until we get that fever under control, and all this could have been avoided if I’d been here when you had your accident in the first place, so you see where I’ve landed us.” The pair shared a warm smile, though Will’s was decidedly sleepy. Hannibal squeezed his hand. 

“You can go back to sleep now. I’m watching over you.” 

That was all the permission Will needed. He let his eyes slip closed and the dreamworld was waiting to meet him with open arms as he slept deeply for the first time in weeks. 

[itsbeenahellofayear]

what we got, it don't come easy

Summary: Some things are easy, some things aren't. It can take time to learn what is important.

Warnings: Smut. Maybe not as much as you'd expect from a story thats pretty much only about sex. Some feelings. Language.

Author's Note: It took a while to get this one across the line. The first segment has been written for weeks, but I lacked inspiration, motivation, and was a little burnt out on anything Leaf related for a little bit there. RIP 2021 season....

Thanks to all of you who kept checking in and were enthusiastic about the little snippet I posted. Kind of kicked my writing into gear today!

I crave your feedback - this is weird and disjointed and very personal in a lot of ways, so I'd love to hear what you think!

---

Sex with Auston is easy - that's never been the issue between you.

This thing started with sex - you connected on tinder, got to talking for a couple of days, then went out for drinks.... That wound up with him in your bed, having arguably the best sex of your life.

That first night, lying hot and sweaty and completely satiated, you'd be lying if the thought didn't cross your mind that you could do this for the rest of your life.

It was that good.

-

You don't keep a list of things to try, but you kind of keep a list of things to try.

-

Some things that make the sex with Auston so good:

He's the first guy to encourage you to use your vibrator on your clit while he's fucking you - it's not every single time - sometimes coordination isn't possible when he's fucking into you so good but those times when he's pressing deep into you, hands on your breasts, grip firm just the way you like, and you've just got your vibe pressed to your clit on a low setting and you just shake apart.... Those are good times.

His dick is huge. Like he's big to start, but then he grows. It honestly took a bit of work to find angles that didn't have him ramming your cervix each time, but once you did... He fills you up so good.

He loves to eat you out. You've had your fair share of mediocre oral, but there's something about the way he just goes for it, lets you twist your fingers in his too long hair, makes these little noises into you, that just really does it for you. He'll open you up with his thumbs and just dive his tongue deep inside of you, then move up and basically caress your clit with his tongue. If you're honest you can't even fathom what he's actually doing, it just feels insane.

He lets you ride his face. Now, it's not an every time thing, mostly because if you're going to expend energy on riding him, really what you want is his cock buried inside your aching slit. But sometimes, he'll settle himself on the bed, and you'll just climb on top of him, grip the headboard, and just ride.

-

You might love him.

(Maybe that's why it's good)

-

So the sex has never been the problem.

The problem lies in the in between bits.

In the moments when you're feeling insecure about his fame, and his looks, and the company he keeps. You're not a party girl - you'll go out to the bar once in a while, but people, everywhere, is not really your scene. You know he likes to go out, especially after wins. You know he likes to drink. And sure, sometimes he'll text you, and he'll end up at your place late at night. But sometimes he won't. And so you wonder.

It's also the moments where he just shuts down, internalizes, and won't communicate. You're not one for talking about your feelings, but you do believe in communicating when it's about things that affect someone else! Case in point: you send him a message in the morning on what you know is his off day - he doesn't even read it let alone respond until 8pm. You had asked him if he wanted to meet up for afternoon drinks.

It's also the moments when he says stupid immature shit, when you realize that, no matter how great a family he comes from, he's still a rich, entitled man-child that doesn't really understand the value of a dollar. And that irks you.

A lot.

-

But.

You're just fooling around - keeping it casual.

But.

-

He takes you out to the cottage with some of his boys. The season ended in heartbreak, they're splitting up for the summer, they want to blow off some steam.

You spend the days lazing by the lake, lying in hammocks in the yard, sneaking off for a "picnic" in the woods. And by picnic you mean Auston laid you out on a blanket and ate you out until you couldn't take it.

You spend the nights getting high sitting out by the fire, leaving unsubtly to go back inside to fuck.

It's probably around day 3 when you realize you're legitimately, 100% in love with this guy.

Day 5 you head back to the city, and haven't really talked to him about how you feel.

He leaves for Arizona the next morning.

-

He's not your boyfriend.

He doesn't know you fell for him.

-

The first night you had sex with him – the first night of the rest of your life – you remember thinking you've never felt this full.

Now, months later, you feel like you're empty.

Anytime you think of him, it's like your pussy just clenches involuntarily around what it thinks should be there, inside of you.

You want him so badly, so deeply, and you don't even have a real claim to him because you couldn't open up and tell him that something had changed.

You catch yourself scrolling insta late at night, looking to see if he's posted something that might hint he's out with someone else.

You hate that you're like this.

-

(You never see anything, for the record)

-

He comes back to Toronto in August.

That honestly catches you by surprise.

More so because you're just home on a Saturday afternoon, watching TV when he knocks on your door. Pretty much the last person you were expecting to see, but you can't deny that your heart ends up in your throat at the sight of him, tanned, bulked up, and looking at you like THAT.

"What..." you start.

"Faith" he breathes out.

You don't understand.

He walks forward into your apartment, crowding you back against the other wall of your tiny entryway.

You're still so caught up in him being here. The way he said your name...

You look up at him.

He just presses himself against you and crushes you to him in a hug. You feel him everywhere. The faint spicy scent of his cologne, the heat of his body, the puff of his breath against your neck where his head is pressing.

Engulfed - your brain provides.

"I missed you" he mutters into your neck.

-

Your brain is going a mile a minute.

How is he here? Why didn't he tell you he was coming back? He doesn't need to be back for weeks. Why is he here? What is happening?

You push him back a little. Not off of you entirely, just enough to give you some space to breathe.

"Auston, what?" You try again.

He looks down at you.

Swallows.

"I..." He starts.

Swallows again.

"I needed to see you, Faith."

He looks... Nervous?

"Aus... What's going on?" You ask him, heart racing out of your chest.

He swears.

"I might be reading this thing wrong, this thing we have, but... I want you to be mine."

You feel like you've been hit with a brick.

All you can do is stare at him as your mind struggles to keep up. You feel yourself reaching for him.

"Aus. Yes. Of course."

He blinks. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You reach for his hand and pull him to the bedroom.

-

Sex is easy, with you and Auston.

You've never been afraid to ask for what you want. He's never been shy to ask for what he wants. And usually that lines up.

But for the first time since all this started, you feel almost shy with him.

Without discussing it, you both get naked pretty damn quickly. There's a second or twenty where you're just looking at him, drinking in his broad shoulders, his stomach muscles, his trim hips and his thick thighs. God, do you want him.

You might say that last part out loud, from the way he laughs and just picks you up and tosses you on the bed.

You've been soaked since you opened your door, and you're impatient to feel him again. He looks at you and you just whimper his name and he smiles, hitches up your legs, and slides slowly, so slowly, inside you

“Fuck, Aus" you hear yourself.

"You feel so good, baby" he groans out, letting you get used to him stretching you out, leaning down to press a filthy open-mouthed kiss to your lips. He bites at your lips as he starts to move, driving into you in a rhythm that makes you feel so good, hitting you just right.

It’s not enough.

But before you can say anything, Auston pulls back, and changes the angle that your hips are lined up with his and suddenly he’s impossibly deeper, and you just can’t breathe with how good he feels and his hands are on your breasts, and he’s pinching your nipples just right, and you are moaning his name almost like a prayer, and it just slips out.

“Aus, I love you.”

You don’t even realize what you said until he stills for a moment, eyes snapping to yours, and he makes this noise.

“Do you mean it,” he asks.

Its not the time for it, but you’re never going to be his open another time so… “Yeah.”

“God, baby. Yes. I love you too. It’s why I came back. I just wasn’t sure…”

He moves back so he can kiss you, deep and filthy. You feel him, deep inside you, and you just… cling to him. He starts fucking into you in earnest - hard and fast, kissing you the whole time, though it ends up being more like just panting into each others mouths but you can’t get enough of him.

“I’m so close,” you manage to get out.

Auston gets a hand between you and presses his thumb to your clit and you just hear yourself keening.

“I love how you feel around me,” he groans out. “Come for me.”

It doesn’t take long.

You shake apart underneath him, and you feel him pulse inside you and it’s just so much and you can feel tears leaking out from the corner of your eyes, and you just feel so much in that moment.

It’s so much.

-

So sex has never been an issue.

But now it is so much more.

[yutahoes]

Devil Inside

pairing : childhood friends! Yuta x Y/N

genre : fluff, horror au, smut but not detailed

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: fuckboy Yuta, calling someone a 'goth girl', horror movies, Yuta becomes an incubus, too much blood, raw meat eating, flesh eating, human organ eating, slut shaming a minor character, calling Yuta a whore, killing, mention of male molestation, mentioned teacher-student intercourse, shirtless Yuta, mentions of breeding, mentioned kitchen sex, mentioned shower sex, mentioned rough sex, Y/N getting wounded, skipping classes, Yuta as a murderer, a cambion. In other words, this is disturbing and problematic.

a/n: Inspired by this set of pictures and the movie Jennifer's Body. This is my first time writing a horror themed AU and this is badly written. I just can't stop thinking about this so for me to do something productive today, I had to post this. 😂 This has uncomfortable theme so please read in moderation. I went crazy over this, sorry. Feedback is highly appreciated. 😘

You and Yuta had been friends since forever, stemming from the history of your parents being friends and all since college. Your home is his home and you have your own room in his house. Staying together inside one room isn't a problem, your parents trusted you both but growing up is different. 

You had to admit that you grew up leading a boring life, too bookish, and didn't even interact with your classmates. Yuta, on the other hand, has always been the life of the party, the school superstar, the popular guy. And that huge difference created a wall between your friendship. 

You didn't know when it started, it just did. He started hanging out with the cool kids while you were left in the shadows. You can't really get mad at him, that's growing up. And he didn't change when it was just the two of you. 

When your parents would go abroad for their business trips, Yuta would check on you every night. If you have eaten dinner, if you've locked all the windows, or if you knew the number for the police station or the fire station in case something happens. He's still the same Yuta. Your childhood friend, Yuta. 

"Did you do your assignments?" He asked, not removing his eyes from the TV where he's watching a horror film. This is something that he can't do at their home or his mom would freak out. 

You rolled your eyes, answering a 'Yes, abeoji' while opening the fridge to see what to have for breakfast tomorrow then whining since there's more raw food in there than easy-to-eat foods. "I'll probably skip breakfast tomorrow." You said more to yourself, already thinking to wake up early and just get some waffles from the shop near the bus stop.

"Just leave the back door unlocked, I'll cook breakfast for you tomorrow." Yuta claimed that made you look at him. 

You raised your eyebrow at that. "Weird that you're here." You started then sat next to him on the couch, "No date?" He showed a screenshot of her photo, a different girl than yesterday. She was wearing black, with black eyeliner, and a pierced eyebrow. "She looks like a goth. Is that your type now?" 

"She's hot!" He exclaimed and you just nodded at him. "And she wants to meet at 11 pm so yeah." That was a weird time to meet up. But you didn't react and just focused on the TV just as the jump scare happened. You quickly hid your face on the throw pillow, blowing heavy breaths that made the guy next to you laugh. You hated horror, hated blood, and you're convinced that Yuta is doing this to scare you. "I'll get going." He said, standing up. 

"Can you close the TV first? Or stop the movie, at least?" You said, face still behind the pillow. He laughed then closed the TV, engulfing you in darkness that made you more scared. The bloody face from the TV earlier flashing on your mind. 

"Sorry Y/N. I promised not to scare you like that again." You heard him say then felt something warm on the top of your head followed by a smooching sound. He patted your head, "I really have to go. I'll see you in the morning." 

You waited for the sound of the door closing before you removed the throw pillow from your burning face. He kissed your head, right? You felt that. Why would he do that? Does he know that you have a crush on him? Or is it just his manwhore ways? But why you? You screamed at the throw pillow, cursing at Yuta for being the charming guy he is. 

You cannot deny the fact that each day, your feelings for Yuta had to grow. Who are you to blame when he's getting more handsome each day? And you're just a girl who has a weak heart for him. The image was still vivid in your mind, the first time you watched a horror movie and you were already crying in fright ten minutes into the movie. "I will protect you, Y/N." And you believed that. Yuta is always there to protect you. 

A loud bang can be heard that made you wake up in your sleep. You listened for other noises and heard footsteps, someone is inside your home. The first instinct is to call Yuta but what if he's in another place, you cannot trouble him. So you just took the baseball bat he lent you for this circumstance, repeating in your mind the number of the police station. 

You quietly tiptoed down the stairs and saw the light of the refrigerator open. Is it a food thief? And how did he come inside your house? You can see a trail of blood on the kitchen floor that startled you. The bat was dropped on the floor when you saw someone seated in front of the refrigerator. "Yuta?" 

He was covered in blood, eating the raw beef as if starving. His eyes were blood cold and you stepped back in fright. He looks like a monster. What kind of a crazy dream is this? You have to do something to wake up. Anything to wake yourself up. 

And as stupid as you sound, you hit your head with the bat that was on the ground. 

You opened your eyes, the sunlight hitting your eyes and your head aching real bad as if something hit you. You groaned while stretching then remembered your dream. Yuta. Your kitchen. Quickly, you ran to the kitchen to see Yuta’s mom cooking something. “I’m glad you’re up. You’ll be late for class.” 

“Auntie, where is Yuta?” She shrugged, saying that he didn’t even go home last night. It was a normal occurrence, that’s part of Yuta’s social life. “I’ll just prepare for school.” When you glanced at the couch, Yuta’s baseball bat was there. Weird, isn’t it supposed to be in your room? 

You had a nice breakfast, thanks to Yuta’s mom, and enough time to go to school. The first thing was to get your books in your locker and walk to class, avoiding some of your schoolmates who block the way. Before you can get inside the room, you see Yuta passing by opposite your way with a new girl in his arms. You knew her, the cheerleader, the basketball team’s girlfriend. Wow, she reached the soccer team now. When your eyes met with Yuta, you were reminded of him seated on your kitchen floor. Filled with blood and with dead cold eyes. You shake your head. That was a dream. You shivered. A very vivid dream. 

It was a normal boring school day, a typical day that it surprised you when Yuta wrapped his arms around you then leaned closer. “I need your help.” A curious look was etched on your face. “Math. Help me study for the exam tomorrow.” You nodded, removing his hand from your shoulder. “Why?” He asked before putting back his hand on you. 

“I just don’t want your girlfriends to misunderstand.” Yuta chuckled then pinched your cheek. “Yuta, stop it. It hurts.” 

He smiled. That breathtaking smile which makes you weak for him. “Sorry.” He whispered then leaned to place a kiss on your reddening cheek, startling you. Your eyes widened at his actions. What is wrong with Yuta? “You do know that I like you more than I like those girls, right?” What? Your heart kept on beating wildly against your chest that you’re scared he might hear it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” 

Once you breathe in, without realizing that you’re holding your breath, you saw everyone’s eyes were on you. Oh no! This is trouble. 

You went home early, trying to stay away from your schoolmates. You don’t want to talk to them and explain that you’re friends with Yuta, that will cause some damage to him. But why did he do that? You tried raking your brains for an answer but you can’t seem to find the right one. So you just shrugged it and maybe ask Yuta when he gets to your house. 

It’s late at night. You finished reviewing the whole chapter for your exam tomorrow yet Yuta is a no show. You lightly glanced at the house next door, seeing that the living room lights were on. Their car isn’t in the garage, meaning his parents are not at home. Then you saw the silhouette of someone making out on the couch. Oh, his ditching makes sense now. You closed the door and made sure to close the light, ready to get a good night’s sleep. 

You opened your eyes in darkness, the clock reading that it’s almost 4 am. You felt thirsty that you decided to go downstairs to get a cup of water, halfway through the stairs you can see someone on the other door’s yard digging up something. Curious, you put on a coat and exited the backdoor to check on it. The same Yuta, covered in blood, and this time you knew you weren’t dreaming. 

“Yuta?” You called but he kept digging. Blood mixed with the soil and the most horrible thing you can see, limbs. “Yuta.” You called once again, even holding his shoulder to make him look at you. He kept covering the body with the soil, even covering it up with a large pot. What has he done? This isn’t the Yuta you know and it scared you. 

“Y/N.” He called that made you look at him. The warmth of his voice is still there. “Help me, please.” He sounded broken. “I’m really scared.” The first time you saw this reaction on Yuta. He looks so fragile, so vulnerable. 

There’s a part of you that’s still wary of him. You have questions in your head that you wanted to ask him and you waited for him to finish his shower, while you make coffee for both of you, as you collect your thoughts. When he sat in front of you at the kitchen table, he looked like the Yuta you knew except there’s pain in his eyes. “Yuta.” You called, rubbing the side of your cup. “What…?” But you don’t know what to ask him. 

“I killed Miss Jang.” Your eyes widened in surprise. The assistant PE teacher? “We had amazing sex and then…” You shook your head. He had sex with a teacher? Wow, his man whoring is of another level. “You don’t understand, she’s been touching me appropriately for the past couple of months so I just gave her what she wanted.” 

A gasp escaped your throat. “She’s what?” He just stared at you. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Do you think someone would believe me?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook his head. “Because it’s embarrassing.” You scoffed then rolled your eyes at him. “So you killed her?” 

“I ate her.” 

“Yuta, I don’t need the details of your sexcapades…”

“I ate her organs.” Your eyes widened in surprise. What? “It’s a craving after having sex with someone. I just want to eat something raw and her flesh can’t even satisfy me.” That explains why he’s covered with blood. 

The memory of that night came to you, when he was eating that raw meat from the fridge. “When did it start?” He answered last night and you were more surprised that it is true and not a dream. “How?” He shrugged. “What do you plan to do now?” 

“I don’t know.” He held your hand that was on the table, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Help me, please. I don’t want to kill another woman again.” You sighed. This was Yuta. Your childhood friend. The guy you like. You nodded before thinking how stupid it is to do this. 

The news of Miss Jang being missing is the talk in your class the next day but what’s more surprising is some testimony of the guys who were molested by her, like Yuta. You watched as your friend fiddled with his thumbs, obviously listening to your classmates. He actually did them a favor but something isn’t right. Why is this happening to Yuta? 

A sexual thirst, a thirst for flesh. Your phone showed a result called an incubus, a demon that pursues sexual relations with women. But why does Yuta keep on eating flesh to satisfy his craving? You stood up and decided to ditch class just to have the answers to your questions, finding yourself in the back of the library. The collection of forbidden books.  

“What are you doing here?” You immediately hushed Yuta as you got hold of a black book, opening it to reveal different pentagrams and illustrations of spooky creatures. “What is that?” 

“An incubus.” You said then sat on the library floor, Yuta following you. “Demons who attract women for sexual pleasure.” Before he could say anything else, “I think that was what is happening to you.” 

You visibly saw him gulp. “You think I’m a demon?” No, you don’t. 

“Possessed by a demon, Yuta.” You flipped the pages of the book to see about the different rituals on how to summon a demon. “Did you join a cult? Or even got drugged and was offered as a human sacrifice?” You stopped. That night. That girl. “The goth girl, you saw her that night. Do you remember what happened?” 

“We had sex.” You rolled your eyes at that, of course. “I told her I’m a virgin because she likes guys like that. We had amazing sex, mind-blowing sex.” You sighed. “Then I woke up on your kitchen floor.” That’s all he remembers? Finally, your thoughts are confirmed, it isn’t a dream. You really saw Yuta that night. “You were lying on the ground as well and I had to remove my shirt before carrying you to your room.” 

The thought of the shirtless Yuta carrying you made the blood rose up your cheeks. “You were covered in blood that time and the trail…”

“I had to clean that up before you wake up because you’re scared of blood.” You stared at him warmly. He had to think about that? “You saw me?” You nodded, sharing that he was eating that raw meat when you saw him. “Did I scare you?” If there was one person you cannot lie to, that would be Yuta. He can easily see through you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I won’t hurt you, I promise that.”

You held his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I’ll help you, Yuta. We can remove that demon inside you.”

The only conclusion you can come up with is to meet with the same goth girl he met before. Yuta remembered having sex with her and he was eating that raw meat as if really hungry so she might be alive, Yuta didn’t kill her. And you have to hurry because each night that passes, Yuta has someone to bury in the backyard. It's a female prostitute one night, then a drug pusher, followed by the girl in class who bullied you. 

It's becoming a huge issue in town, the disappearance of young girls, that your parents had to come home quickly worried about your safety. "From now on, go home early." Your dad ordered. "I'll ask Yuta to walk you home every day." How would they feel if Yuta was the one doing all these? 

He was worried about you joining him in meeting up with the girl, even repeating to you that he'll kill himself if something bad happens to you but you assured him that you'll be fine. It's not you who needed help now, it was him. You need to put a stop to this before another one gets hurt. 

The girl was laughing cynically when you asked her what to do to remove the demon inside your friend. "A cambion." She answered and you curiously gave her a look. "That's the goal of an incubus. Once there's a cambion, he will leave the body he's possessing." 

A cambion? All you need is to have a cambion so the demon can leave Yuta. You searched what it was and just facepalmed yourself. Fuck this! Will he be saved? 

----

"You want me to breed someone?" You shiver at his choice of words but nod, nonetheless. "How can I do that when eating them becomes part of the sexual process?" 

You shook your head then ruffled your hair. This is getting you crazy. "You know, this is your fault for whoring around. If you just had a fixed girlfriend then this wouldn't happen…" 

"Then why did you reject my confession?" You blinked twice as if it can clear what you heard. Did you hear him correctly? "I told you I'll marry you in senior year and what is your answer? I'm not marrying you, Yuta." He said while copying your voice, leaving you dumbfounded. "I was heartbroken that time so I started dating other girls then maybe you can finally notice me." 

"I thought you were teasing me that time." Your voice got louder that your mom knocked on the door asking if you two were fighting. He shook his head, smiling at your mom. When she closed the door, you just stared at him awkwardly. Once again, you had to ruffle your hair. This is so frustrating! "Just, make a baby with someone." 

You waited, biting your thumb as the clock struck 3 am. You haven't had the right sleep thinking of what might happen to Yuta then you saw movement in the yard. Quietly, you went out of the backdoor of your house and saw him outside, blood on his clothes. "What happened?" 

He shook his head. "Same." 

"Where is her body?" You removed your cardigan to wipe away the blood from his face and his neck. 

He looks tired, hopeless. "I left her body on a roadside." You gasped at that. "I can't save myself. I'll be like this forever." He can't, he needed to fight himself. Fight his urges. But even you knew that it was impossible. 

There was a flicker of light coming from their kitchen, someone was going to see you. They're going to see Yuta with a bloody shirt like this. "Remove your shirt." You ordered and he looked confused so you just ripped it from him. Shit, you just realized how this looked like when two booming voices can be heard calling both your names. Both your dads. 

"Where is your shirt?" Your dad asked, arms crossed. You're inside your house, both your fathers and mothers staring at the two of you. "And you're wearing only that outside?" You glanced at the thin nightgown you were wearing and Yuta handed you a throw pillow. "Please wear your shirt, Yuta." 

"I ripped his shirt, dad." You heard both your moms giggle. "Can we please not make a big deal of this? This isn't what you think it is." 

Yuta's dad sighed. "Our only concern is why bother doing it outside? We let you sleep in each other's room." What? 

"Are you exhibitionists?" Your mom asked and you gasped. Is that what they're thinking now? Your head aches, you didn't have any decent sleep yet and this ordeal with Yuta is making you lose your mind. Can't you just all talk tomorrow, not at 4 in the morning? 

Yuta held your hand, lacing your fingers together. "I'm willing to take responsibility if something happens to Y/N." Surprised, you glanced at him. Nothing happened, he knew that. What the hell is he saying so suddenly? "But can I please stay with Y/N tonight, uncle?" 

It was a surprise when your dad allowed you both to go upstairs to your room but you had to wait until they're in their rooms before getting your cardigan and Yuta's blood-stained clothes from the yard. Yuta was still seated on your bed when you went back to your room, staring at you with his misty eyes. 

He pulled you close, arms wrapped around your waist while his head was on your chest. "I'm scared." His hold got tighter. "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore." If you're frustrated with this, you realized Yuta might be in bigger pain than you are. You held his hair, threading your fingers along its strand. You've been together for so long but this has been the most intimate thing that you two had ever done. "You were right, this is my fault for hurting those girls. I used them for my self pleasure, to boost my ego. This is me getting punished for all of that." 

You held his hands, kneeling in front of him to see his face. "But you don't deserve this, Yuta." You held his cheeks as tears started falling from his eyes. "We'll do something, I promise." 

He pulled you up, letting you sit on his lap. The warmth of his eyes makes your heart beat rapidly inside your chest. "I love you, Y/N." Your eyes widened at the sudden confession, "I'm sorry for getting you dragged into this but I'm thankful you haven't left me yet." He hugged you, head on your shoulder and you can feel his warm breath on your neck. "I love you. I don't want you to leave me." 

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He's scared, you can feel him shaking. "I won't leave you, Yuta." You let him sob in your chest like a little child just wanting some warmth. And you realized, this might be just what he needed. 

Both of you skipped school that morning since you slept at 5 am, just laying next to each other. Your head on his chest, hands held together. It was him who first got out of bed, prepared himself, then placed a small kiss on our head before leaving your room. If only you could stay like this. But he had to go and fuck another woman tonight to satisfy his thirst, making your heart ache. Can you live like this? 

Your parents and Yuta were seated around the dining table when you went down for breakfast. "We were just telling Yuta that we have a business trip in Brazil." You nodded, used to it by now. "And because of the news around, it would be better that he stay here with you." Your mom suggested that it made you surprised. After last night, they're letting you live in one roof with a guy, unsupervised? 

"Mom. I can stay at home alone." 

"I know. But just to be safe." You're not even safe with their suggestion. "I know what you're thinking honey. You're a female and a male with raging hormones, it's alright with us." Yuta choked on the food and you hissed at your parents. 

Your dad coughed lightly. "We stacked some condoms just in case." 

"Dad!" 

"Honey, we agreed to let them have their freedom." You glared at your mom. "We really wanted a grandchild." It's your turn to choke at your food. Then it made you stop. If he breeds a human, the incubus will go away. This might just be your answer. 

---

"No, Y/N!" Yuta stated firmly after explaining what your plan is. "What if I hurt you?" 

You shook your head. You're not scared of that now but you're frightened for Yuta and the things that might happen to him if this continues on. The police started investigating the missing dead girls, it's only a matter of time before they can chase down Yuta. You held his cheeks, distress can be seen in his expression. "I trust you, Yuta." 

It was a crazy plan. When your parents left that afternoon, you stacked up some raw meat that the butcher thought you were throwing a party. Yuta didn't kill the first girl, the goth girl, and you're holding to that belief that Yuta can have some control over himself. When the night struck, you locked all doors to your house that would forbid Yuta from going out. 

"I'm giving you the last chance to back out from this, Y/N." You shook your head. "I'm sorry." He whispered, carrying you to the countertop of the kitchen. "If something bad happens, I'll kill myself. I swear." 

You giggled then wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Then we'll be like Romeo and Juliet." He laughed at your reference before moving closer to plant his lips on yours. Your first kiss with Yuta. His lips were so soft and he tasted so sweet that made your brain hazy. 

When he slipped his tongue inside you and his fingers dug on your waist, you knew there's no way you can get out of this. You can feel his warmth in every touch, in every part of your skin his lips touched. He slowly undressed you, making sure that he's still Yuta and whispering promises that he wouldn't hurt you. He didn't at first and you refused to believe that you made love with him at your kitchen counter. 

The grandfather clock signaled that it is midnight. Yuta just pulled you down from the kitchen counter, turning you around, and thrust into you that made you scream. No foreplay, no kissing. You turned to see his eyes, those dead eyes. His hand held your neck, the other digging in your waist. You prevent making a sound, not wanting to alert his parents next door. His teeth dig in your shoulder, an excruciating pain that makes you bite your lip to prevent a sound. This is how he kills them. 

You tried to reach for the raw meat nearby, desperately trying to move out of his hold. You pushed yourself away from the counter, causing him to fall to the ground. You watched as he took the meat and ate it as if starved, like the first night you saw him in this state. Every night, he's like this. An appetite for sex, an appetite for flesh. 

And it breaks your heart that you can't do anything to help him. 

He ate five portions of the raw meat and you mentally told yourself to get some tomorrow for what might happen at night. You covered him with a blanket as he lay down your kitchen floor, kissing his forehead. You wanted this to stop, wanted him to be normal again. You clean the wound on your shoulder as well as the scratch on your side, hissing in pain as you put medicine on the bleeding part. 

You woke up with his warm arms wrapped around you, a kiss on your wounded shoulder woke you up. "Did I do this? I really did hurt you." He grazed his finger on the spot that hurt as you shook your head. He nuzzled his nose on your shoulder and you felt his warmth. "I don't know what to do anymore." 

"But Yuta this is better. We know that you still have control over yourself." You sat on the bed and he traced the scratch on your side. "When the clock struck twelve, that's when you started having that hunger. We're slowly knowing things about you now. We can do this together, Yuta." 

He nodded, watching you stand up then head to the bathroom. You were supposed to close the door when you felt him enter the same room. The warm feeling is back when his hands touch your body, in contrast to the cold water cascading down your body. You skipped class again because of the pain in your shoulder and he went to school. 

If this continues, it's better to listen to both your parents and just get married. Live together in a far city where you can start a new life, maybe you can give birth to Yuta's child and it will end his suffering. As you put new meat inside the fridge, you heard a knock on the door. Yuta came in with a distressed look on his face. "The police are at school. They were starting to suspect a student at school." 

"Did you do anything?" He shook his head, hands clasped together. "Just lay low for a while." 

"What if they found out that it was me?" You shook your head, that's the worst-case scenario. And you promise not to let that happen. 

He stayed at your house, particularly your room that night. When the clock struck twelve, you were pushed on your bed with Yuta pounding on you real rough. The moment you felt his lips on your neck, you rolled to the bed and reached for the raw meat on the bedside table. You breathed hard, you can do this. 

The police were doing their best, you had to give them that. And it scares you that they'll narrow it down to you and Yuta doing these things. The disappearance of the women stopped but the deaths were a mystery that the police remained to look for clues. It's been a couple of nights since you've done this with Yuta and every day, a new wound would appear on your body. 

Your parents came back from their business trip when they noticed the amount of raw meat in your fridge and the wounds in your body. You tried to shrug it off, saying that it's just your clumsiness. Yet, they never bought it. You cannot ask Yuta to stay over so you keep your phone in your ear, watching his room for movements. The moment the clock struck midnight, nothing happened to your surprise. He kept saying that he's fine, that he doesn't need anything, that he's still Yuta. Maybe an off day.

You slept relieved but woke up with the sound of police sirens. You glanced at the window outside and saw the yard next door being dug out by your dad and some men in uniform, Yuta's dad watching nearby. How? You ran downstairs to check on Yuta but your mom quickly told you to stay inside. "We're sorry, we trusted you to a murderer." 

"He's not." You shouted trying to see from the window. Yuta was handcuffed, a large man holding him in place. He shook his head when your eyes met and the sight of rotten decaying bones caught your attention. 

Your stomach churned and you vomited on the kitchen sink, your mom helping you by rubbing your back. "He's such a sweet child. What happened to Yuta?" Your mom asked and you itched to tell her that it's not him. A devil inside him.

Your eyes widened at the realization. Nothing happened last night. Now, you're having this weird feeling in your body. A cambion. And you felt yourself fainting at that information.  

---

It's been years, seven years to be exact when that moment happened to your life. Yuta's parents moved to a different town but you still see them from time to time, as well as your parents. When they found out that you were pregnant with Yuta's child, they immediately sent you away to give birth abroad. Your son was three when you went back to the country and introduced him to his dad. 

"Daddy!" Your son cheered seeing his dad walking outside the huge gates of the visitor's area. The older was grinning wide, carrying his son to where you are. He kissed you on your forehead and your son giggled, "Daddy, mommy said I can go to a big school this year." He nodded, letting the young boy sat on his lap. "Grandma and grandpa are going to buy me my bag." 

Yuta giggled and you noticed how the two looked very much alike. It was the exact reason why your parents warmed up on Yuta and let you introduce your son to him. "I'm sorry. But when dad gets out of here, I'm going to pick you up from school every day." 

You can feel your eyes water at that. The younger boy wrapped his arms around his neck, "When are you getting out of here?" You both sighed. It's always his question. 

"Just another three years, then we can be together." There's a lot of pain in his words. "You and mommy can wait for me, right?" Your son nodded. 

He reached out to hold your hand that was above the table. You nodded at him. You waited this long, another three years wouldn't hurt. He engaged in another conversation with the younger boy and you gazed at him, he looks better than the first few years he's here. 

"Time to get back, Nakamoto." The police officer said and your son hugged his father's neck, refusing to let go of him. 

This has always been a problem every time you visit Yuta. "Honey, we have to go. Daddy has to get back." You said quietly, taking him from Yuta. Your son glared at the big man behind his dad and he just turned his head to look at the wall. "Honey, let's get ice cream." You said quickly and the younger smiled at you. The guard turned around, asking what happened that his head was hurting. 

Yuta gave you a worried look but you just shook your head, putting sunglasses on your son. "Say bye to daddy." You whispered and he obeyed you. "I'll come to visit you soon." 

He kissed you on the forehead, "I'm sorry." Again. you shook your head. No one warned you about having a cambion and the risk it takes to be its parents. "I love you." But right now, your son and Yuta are the most important people in your life. 

"I love you, too." And you're willing to throw everything in the past just to be happy with your small family. 

[jungblue]

aphrodite in war | 02

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: comedy, fluff, angst, eventual smut / greek life, fake dating, roommates, lovers to enemies and back to lovers au

word count: 14,243

description: Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle... Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

note: here is an audio post of a beautiful song with lyrics inspired by AiW, which was written by one of my lovely readers!

→ part 01

Red, hot anger had curled its way around your bones, forcibly moving your limbs until you somehow found yourself standing in front of the Lambda house with a single pair of heart-covered boxers in hand; murderous intent leaving Jungkook’s voice indiscernible in the distance as you’d left him standing in front of the defiled Tri Delt house. Maybe he was telling you to wait for him while he began to pull down the rest of the countless pairs of boxers that were plastered along the outside of the sorority. Or maybe he was telling you to not go inside because it would only make it worse to have the furious president of Tri Delt waking up dozens of Lambdas at seven in the morning. You genuinely couldn’t tell what he was shouting as you ripped the front door of the fraternity open and stomped inside. 

It had been over two years since you had stepped foot inside of your neighbor’s house, but it was exactly as you remembered. Red solo cups and crushed cans of beer scattered around the floor as a telling sign that it was indeed the morning after a night of partying, two Lambdas passed out on the couch because apparently the staircase that led to their rooms had been an impenetrable obstacle in their drunken states, and the scent of weed encasing the entire house that seemingly never went away. It was all the same, and you hoped as you went down the hallway to the left, that held a portion of the bedrooms in this house, that a particular person’s room was also the same as it had been before. You banged your fist against the door, scowling as you waited for the person on the other side to answer. 

“What the fuck?” You heard someone say. The voice was scratchy from just being woken up but still recognizable as the person you were looking for; Jimin. 

You banged on the door again, your patience level laying at zero. 

You heard the bed creak and then footsteps began padding across the floor. “Uh, is this the cops?” He asked, probably to know whether he should hide a few things before opening the door. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m not here to confiscate your coke. Now. Open. The. Door.” You spat each word out through gritted teeth. 

“Y/N?” Jimin asked before ripping his door open, revealing a mop of messy bed head framing his bewildered expression. He stood there shirtless, adorning only a white pair of tight Calvin Klein boxers that were doing absolutely nothing to hide his morning wood. 

“Oh, god.” You threw your hand up to try and block out its unavoidable presence. 

Jimin glanced down at himself before raising his head, smirking as he leaned against his doorframe, not even attempting to hide the piece of him that you were trying to avoid looking at. “You’re not exactly decent yourself there, Nips.” He pointed toward your chest. 

Your eyes widened. In your rage you had completely forgotten about the attire you had decided was appropriate to storm the Lambda house in. You immediately crossed your arms over your chest to hide the fact that you were wearing the flimsiest tanktop of all time in combination with no bra. 

“Plus, I’m in my own house,” He started again. “What’s your excuse?”

“Trust me. I would’ve loved nothing more than to never had to of stepped foot in this place ever again. But,” You paused, holding up the pair of heart covered boxers you had ripped off the Tri Delt house because you thought they were the most recognizable among the sea of plain solid blacks, whites, and maroons. “I have a motherfucking bone to pick with someone in this house.”

Jimin studied the piece of fabric that you held up before him before his mouth dropped open. “Fuck, did you sleep with Taehyung? I’m gonna knock his ass out if Jungkook doesn’t get to him first.”

Your face wrinkled in disgust. “Ew, no. There are about a million pairs of boxers all over the Tri Delt house and I’m trying to find out who did it, so thank you for letting me know. Now where is Tae’s room?” 

“Oh, thank god.” Jimin’s expression softened, as if he was relieved that his friend didn’t sleep with you; who they thought of as the devil incarnate. “But no, I’m not telling you. I had nothing to do with that. I went home early last night. But Jungkook can deal with it, just like you can deal with what your girls did.”

“What’re you talking about?” You asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jimin smiled. “Some of the guys texted me before I fell asleep last night saying that when they left Pub they found their cars with words written all over their windows in lipstick.”

Your eyes screwed shut, tongue jabbing at the side of your cheek as you tried to calm the colossal wave of anger that flooded through you for a second time in the fifteen minutes you had been awake. 

What a fantastic day this was turning out to be. 

“Are you serious?” You finally asked, voice a little bit louder than you’d intended.

“Yeah, so you might wanna check your own people before you come into someone else’s house and accuse them of things.” He shrugged. “Might save you some embarrassment next time.”

Heat rushed to your face. You were pissed, but that was only because you agreed with him. “Look—” You started, not really sure what was going to come out of your mouth, but it was the squeak of sneakers running along the wooden floor boards that stopped you. 

Jungkook was suddenly rounding the corner, a mountain of boxers filling his arm. “Y/N, what the hell?” He hissed before dropping them to the ground. 

“What? I was just trying to get to the bottom of this.” You held the heart boxers up one last time before tossing them into the pile next to Jungkook’s feet.

“Yeah, and how’d that go for you?” He pointed towards Jimin. 

“Well, I found out who those boxers belonged to… But…” You trailed off, not wanting to admit what you just found out. 

“But?” Jungkook asked.

“But, she found out that it was only payback for some of her members participating in a little bit of lipstick graffiti on Taehyung and a few other people’s cars.” Jimin smirked next to you as he revealed what you were too embarrassed to say. 

There was a small pause, and then Jungkook was laughing, like he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. That even after the threat of suspension to these people, they just didn’t care. And you just wanted to understand why. Was it truly because they didn’t care or was it due to the fact that the failed relationship that had acted as the catalyst to this war still held hostility and therefore still felt unresolved. Either way it was an issue that you and Jungkook needed to figure out how to fix. You were already trying to think of other possible solutions to this mess when another door a few feet away opened, and the sleep-deprived face of Taehyung poked its way out. 

“The hell’s going on out here?” He slurred before his eyes locked with yours. “Whoa, seriously what the hell is going on out here?”

A few more doors throughout the hall began to open. Clearly this little altercation had been a little bit louder than you’d anticipated. All of the Lambdas faces twisted in confusion as they found you standing in their hallway for the first time in years. 

“We found your little boxer exhibit,” You finally answered. 

Taehyung threw his hands up. “Hey, I only did it because of the—”

“—Lipstick,” You finished for him. “Yeah, yeah, I got that part already.”  

“Some of us had been drinking and it pissed us off.” Baekhyun shrugged, as he had been one of the guys to join in on this little morning confrontation. “Sorry.” 

“I can’t deal with this. I have a million other things to worry about today.” You rubbed your palms over your eyes in frustration as you remembered the other issue you had to handle once the financial aid office opened for their half day, since today was Saturday. The mystery of your less than lucrative bank account and the implications that it had on your living situation hanging over your head. 

“Well, as a sign of my immense regret and an attempt to repair this terrible relationship between our houses, I do have to say you look great this morning.” Baekhyun motioned towards your minimally covered body. “If you ever wanna hang out—”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to not listen to the rest of the garbage he decided to spew, but it turned out you didn’t even need to tune him out because suddenly a voice sliced through the air like a razor. 

“Watch it, Baek.” Jungkook sounded cold, mouth set in a firm line as he stared daggers down the hallway. 

“Uhm, I’m…” Baekhyun started, an awkward air encasing everyone. “I just woke up. I’m mildly delusional. My bad, Kook.” He tapped at his head and raised his hands as an apology before shutting the door. 

There was silence, a palpable silence that had Jimin, Taehyung and a few of the other Lambdas that had opened their doors grabbing the back of their necks as they stared at the floor. But Jungkook kept his stance, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to stare at Baekhyun’s door. 

After only a few moments of this you just couldn’t take it. You clapped your hands together, trying to let the sudden burst of sound break the tension. “Come on,” You said, pulling at Jungkook’s shirt. “Let’s talk outside.” 

He nodded, finally breaking his glare down the hallway before turning towards Jimin. “Do you think you could give me a ride back to my place in a minute. I don’t have my car.” 

“I can, but why’d you Uber back here last night instead of your place?” Jimin asked, clearly not privy to the events that had transpired between you and Jungkook last night. 

Jungkook’s eyes found yours for a split second before returning to Jimin. “I met a girl from Chi Omega. I was gonna meet her at her place, but it fell through.” He shrugged, a lie so on the fly that it made you wonder how many times he’d done that to you since knowing him. 

“Gotcha.” Jimin nodded, seeming to perfectly understand. “Just let me know when you wanna go.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook said as he joined you in stepping over the pile of boxers still strewn across the floor. “And make sure everyone picks this shit up.” 

“Will do, boss.” Jimin saluted before shutting his door behind him.

After that you made a straight line through the house, not wanting to stand inside this place that held too many memories. You breathed a sigh of relief when you pushed the front door open, letting the fresh air wash over you — albeit the hot, muggy fresh air that reminded you of the fact that it was the end of summer and rain every single day was a constant. 

“I got all the boxers,” Jungkook finally said. 

“That’s great, but it still doesn’t change the fact that my members fucked up first. Plus, I have this financial aid bullshit to deal with.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to flush the stress from your body. “What the hell are we gonna do?” 

Jungkook shook his head and sighed, because like you he apparently also didn’t have any solid answers, but before he could try to offer anything his phone began to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and eyed the contact on the screen. 

“Give me a second. It’s my new roommate that’s supposed to be moving in this week,” He said before answering. 

“What’s up?” He began. 

You stood there for a minute, watching the way Jungkook’s face began to slowly devolve as the person on the other side of the line spoke, and from the expression on his face, it did not seem like it was good news. 

“Are you serious?” Jungkook finally said, grabbing at his hair. “Like I’m happy for you guys, but rent is due next week and you were supposed to be moving in and paying half.” 

It seemed you weren’t the only person having issues involving living situations. 

“I doubt I’ll be able to find anyone this short notice. And if I can’t there’s no way I can pay rent in full this month and have enough to last me the rest of the semester.” 

After that the conversation on Jungkook’s end was mostly just grunts and short responses as he was clearly frustrated and already had his mind focused on possible solutions. 

“Alright, alright, bye.” He hung up the phone, pressing his hands against temples. 

“Well that didn’t sound good,” You said. 

“Yeah, my new roommate apparently worked things out with his ex-girlfriend, so instead of moving in with me, he’s moving back in with her. So now, I have no one to split rent with and am basically fucked.” 

That was actually very unfortunate, but even though you and Jungkook had experienced a somewhat understanding moment last night, it still wasn’t enough to completely erase the hostile relationship the two of you had engaged in for the last few years. So the comment that you replied with was already halfway out of your mouth before you could even think to stop it. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince some of your harem of girls to play roomie and split rent with you.” 

Jungkook turned to look at you, eyes narrowing into slits. “Yeah, I might do that actually.” He sounded pissed, clearly not finding any amusement in the comment that you admittedly shouldn’t have made. “And when you get kicked out of the Tri Delt house you should ask that guy from the soccer team if you can move in with him. What was his name? Hoseok?” 

You deserved the response, but it still didn’t make your blood boil any less. “Whatever, we can deal with our fucked up living situations later on. For now just try and think of a way to get our idiot friends to stay in line. We’ll see who has the best idea at Kappa Sig tonight. Did Yoongi tell you about the party? Are you going?” 

Yoongi was a mutual friend of yours and Jungkook’s from high school. He was also in a fraternity, but instead of Lambda Phi Epsilon it was Kappa Sigma, which was located a little further down Greek Drive. When the relationship between you and Jungkook ended he somehow managed to stay impartial and remained friends with the both of you, thankfully. 

“Yeah, I’m going,” He said simply, clearly still embittered from your joke. 

“Good, better start thinking then,” You said and then turned to head back towards the Tri Delt house; any progress you and Jungkook made last night seeming to snap in half as you left him behind. 

Yet, somehow you could feel him staring into your back, the lingering feeling not disappearing until you closed the front door to your house behind you. 

 —————-

You had spent the past half an hour nervously fidgeting in your bed as you waited for the financial aid office to open. As soon as the time on your phone read eight a.m. you immediately dialed their number. However, it was the first week of classes, and that meant that everyone and their mother needed to talk to financial aid, because unfortunately situations like yours were completely common. So even though you called the second they opened it was still a twenty minute wait before you finally heard a voice that wasn’t pre-recorded and asking you to press various numbers depending on your issue or question. 

“Hello. This is financial aid. How can I help you?” The woman on the other side of the line chimed.

“Hi, I have a question about my refund.” Your voice was high-pitched as it shifted into a mode that was more professional. “I received my refund on Thursday, and it was the correct amount. However, when I checked my bank account yesterday my refund had been completely taken out. I was just trying to figure out why that is.” 

She hummed in understanding. “Could you give me your student I.D number and we’ll see what’s going on.”

You rattled off your number and there was a few seconds of silence as the woman on the other side pulled up your information. 

“Okay, it says here…” She paused, presumably reading through whatever she was seeing once more. “That you will be getting your refund deposited back into your bank account, however, it had to be taken back out to adjust the amount. One of your scholarships informed the university that you and a few other recipients did not meet the new community service hours minimum they implemented to receive the scholarship this semester.” 

You felt the blood drain from your face, anxiety making your hands go shaky. “New community service hour minimum?” You asked, trying to understand what that was even referring to, because you knew nothing about the change in hours you were supposed to obtain. 

“Yes, they upped the amount. A few other students have already called to complain about this situation, but the office for that particular scholarship said that they sent an email out last year to inform you guys about the new amount that would be needed.” 

Email? You didn’t think that you ever received an email with any information about that. “Oh… okay… Uhm, I guess I’ll try and figure out what’s going on. Thank you.” 

You hung up the phone and immediately opened up your email app and began to scour through any undeleted messages from last year that you might have overlooked. And after a few minutes of scrolling, there it was, sitting in the depths of your inbox like some monster that was going to destroy you. You clicked on it as some sort of masochistic gesture. You already knew what it was going to say, so you didn’t know why you were even bothering to read it. And yes, there it was, written in bold print at the bottom of the email. A message that relayed the raise in community service hours needed. 

“Fuck my life!” You yelled, throwing a pillow over your face and screaming into it. 

Living in a sorority or fraternity was different than living in a regular apartment or house that wasn’t associated with the university. Instead of paying a monthly amount like a normal living situation, in order to live on campus you had to pay the full amount for the semester up front. Which basically translated to needing to fork over a couple thousand dollars all at once. Which, unless you were rich or incredibly well disciplined at saving money, scholarships and loans were the only option. That had been one of the reasons Jungkook decided to live at an apartment this year instead of at Lambda Phi Epsilon. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You continued to yell into your pillow until your bedroom door was suddenly swinging open; a concerned Sana standing before you. 

“I’m sorry,” She said, walking to the side of your bed. “You totally could’ve been having sex in here, but the expletives sounded more like frustration than fun, so I wanted to make sure.” 

“It’s beyond frustration. It’s devastation.” You threw your pillow across the room to make your point.

“What happened?” She asked as she sat next to you on your bed. 

You took a heavy sigh and explained the entire financial aid situation to her, and ended with the consequence of your entire scholarship debacle. “So I’m not going to be able to stay here this semester. I’m gonna have to find a new place to live.” 

Sana’s mouth dropped, hand twisting into her hair. “Seriously? You’ve gotta move out?” 

You, Sana, and Jennie were best friends that had lived less than ten feet away from each other for the past three year, and you had all hoped for your final year to be the same. But hope was like that. It gave you so much to look forward to, only for it to end in a way that you didn’t at all expect. You had experienced that many times, unfortunately. 

“Yeah, looks like it,” You whispered, arm coming up to cover your eyes.

“No, it’ll be okay.” She squeezed at your arm. “I’ll text around today and see if anyone knows about people needing roommates.” 

“Thanks,” You said, offering a weak smile. 

“It’s not even something to stress over honestly. It’s gonna work itself out.” You could tell Sana was trying to be upbeat for your sake.

You nodded, but there were other issues besides where you were going to live. “But something that is apparently not going to work itself out is the failed peace treaty between us and next door.” 

Sana cocked her head to the side. “Wait… Did something happen? What did they do?” She sneered, having the same reaction as you from earlier this morning. 

“Plastered boxers all over our house.” Sana was about to go on a rant, but you informed her of the whole story before she could. “Because some of the girls wrote shit in lipstick on their cars at Pub last night.”

“You’re kidding me?” She slammed her palm down on the bed. “Who was it? I’m gonna kick their asses.”

The image that brought to your head actually made you laugh, which you were thankful for. You needed some sort of humor in your life on this miserable day. “I have no idea. I got a call from Jungkook this morning about the boxers and ran outside. I haven’t even had the chance to try and figure out who did it.”

“Wait… You were already here?” She asked. “You weren’t at Hoseok’s.” 

Oh yeah, you forgot Sana had left Pub last night expecting to not see you until some time later today when Hoseok brought you home. She still had no idea about Jungkook and that entire emotional disaster from last night. 

“Yeah, about that…” You definitely weren’t going to hide what happened, but you decided that you were going to sugarcoat it a bit. You didn’t like talking about your insecurities, even with your friends, so you decided painting it in a more positive light was for the best, because relatively speaking that actually had been a less hostile conversation compared to others that you and Jungkook had experienced over the years. “Because my bank account got emptied out from the whole financial aid thing, I just felt like going home instead of over to Hoseok’s, but I also didn’t have any money to Uber, so… Jungkook walked me home.”

Sana’s eyes widened, hands cupping either side of her face. “What?!”

“Yeah, he offered to walk me home.” You shrugged, trying to make it seem as though it wasn’t a big deal, but you knew that was going to do nothing to stop the onslaught of questions about to be thrown at you. 

“Wait, wait, wait, so did you guys talk? Did you argue the whole time? Was it just awkward and silent? Like tell me.” She moved closer to you on the bed, curiosity beaming off of her. 

“It wasn’t, uhm, bad actually.” You sat up, avoiding as much eye contact as you could manage without looking like a complete liar. “We talked and cleared the air on things. It was… enlightening.” That wasn’t a total fib. Certain feelings had been revealed, and yes, that might have ended up with you crying, but in the grand scheme of things that was a totally miniscule detail, right?

Sana’s expression twisted into that of bewilderment. “...Enlightening? What does that even mean? What became enlightened?” 

You shrugged, buying yourself time to try and think of some way to fumble through any sort of half decent explanation. “Just our feelings on everything that happened and how we felt. Nothing crazy.” 

She squinted her eyes, finger tapping at her nose. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“There isn’t. We just understand each other a lot better now.” You knew the longer she pushed the higher the possibility of you cracking, so you decided to bring up the one thing that you knew would flood her mind with thoughts completely unrelated to you and Jungkook. “You’ll see at Kappa Sig tonight. We’re better with each other now.” 

Pink flushed to Sana’s cheeks at the mere mention of Kappa Sig, because in her mind Kappa Sig directly correlated to one of its members; Kim Seokjin, or one of Yoongi’s good friends. 

“I almost forgot about the party tonight,” Sana started. Mission success it seemed as she completely dropped the conversation from before. “Maybe love is in the air, and Jennie’s luck with Namjoon will rub off on me tonight with Jin.”

“Maybe it is.” You smiled. 

Sana gave you a strange look at your response, and you weren’t sure why, but you didn’t get the chance to find out before she dropped the expression and moved on to something else. 

“I’m gonna text Jennie and see when she thinks she’ll come home.” She began typing on her phone before looking back up at you. “You wanna go get lunch or something in a few hours? Get your mind off of the whole financial aid thing while we wait for the party tonight? My treat since you don’t have your refund back yet.”

“That actually sounds great.” Sana leaned in, hugging you before jumping from your bed and heading back to her room directly next to yours. 

You fell back flat against your bed, eyes wandering around your room. The pictures plastered across your walls of all of your friends and family. Posters of your favorite shows and movies. You couldn’t help but think about how in a week or so this wasn’t going to be yours anymore. 

Where you were going to wind up at in the end, well, that was a complete mystery.

———

JUNGKOOK’S POV

Jungkook climbed into Jimin’s truck, slamming the door behind him. He pressed his forehead against the dashboard, palms pressing at his temples to try and relieve even the tiniest amount of stress that was currently running amok through his head. 

Jimin jumped into the driver’s seat a minute later, whistling at the sight of his friend in such a rough position. “You good, man?” He asked. 

“Do I look good?” Jungkook asked, sitting up against the seat. “I’ve gotta find a new roommate in the next week, act like a goddamn babysitter between forty-two grown adults, and worry about Y/N storming around the Lambda house now apparently.” He paused, clenching his hands into fists. “So, no, I’m not good.”

“Kook, just take it easy.” Jimin reached over, squeezing at his friend’s shoulder. “There’s gonna be a ton of people at that party tonight, and I guarantee you at least one person there needs a place to stay or at the very least knows someone who does.” 

Jungkook nodded because he agreed that there were always people looking for places to stay. “What about the other two things?” 

“Oh, you’re fucked on those. I don’t know what to tell you.” Jimin laughed as he hit the gear into reverse. 

“You sound surprisingly calm about that, considering the chapter will be suspended if me and Y/N don’t figure out a way to make things okay between everyone.” 

Jimin shrugged as he pulled out of the driveway. “If I had come out last night and seen my truck covered in lipstick, would I have been pissed? Sure. But, I would’ve just told you so that you could tell Y/N, and she could deal with it. The fact is, that’s how I am, but everyone’s different and you two can’t control that many people without some sort of miracle.”

Jungkook sighed, banging his head back against the headrest. “A miracle, huh?”

“Yeah, a straight up miracle,” He repeated as he drove past the Tri Delt house that was no longer covered in boxers. 

Jungkook’s eyes drifted to the far right window on the second story, a small twinge budding inside of his chest. Words from that night almost two years ago pushed their way to the surface as they never failed to do. 

“It’s nothing that you did… I’ve just been having these… thoughts.”

“Thoughts? What, thoughts of cheating on me? Of being with other people?”

“No! I mean, it’s not how you’re thinking. It’s just… You’re the only person I’ve ever dated, Y/N, and I don’t know if…”

“Oh, I’ll finish it for you, Jungkook. You don’t know if there’s someone better. Just fucking say it instead of going around it like you have been for months now.”

“I don’t think there’s someone better. I’m not ending this because I met someone else. I’m ending this because I can’t look at you and say I love you everyday when I’m having these thoughts, because it just doesn’t seem right. And I’m not saying that I don’t love you. I still do, but that doesn’t stop me from having these feelings of doubt about whether this is the last relationship I ever wanna have, when it’s the only one I’ve ever been in. I can’t just sit there and look at you when I know I’m thinking these things. I can’t do that because I care about you so fucking much, even if you’re looking at me right now like you hate me. I don’t want you to hate me.”

Jungkook wished he could permanently scrub that night from his head. There was so much crying, so much blame, so much anguish, from having to end things with someone that he truly did love. He hadn’t stopped loving you. That wasn’t why he broke up with you. He ended things because he wanted to be sure that the one experience that he’d ever had was the right one. And he knew when he took that risk that he could be throwing away something that was perfect. But he couldn’t be sure until he knew.

He had dated a few people in the two years since that night, and he had found some great relationships with some great girls — but nothing that had lasted. None of them ever felt as if he could see himself with them for years and years to come, and wasn’t that the whole point of dating? And of course, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he had never ended things with you. He thought about it every time he saw you actually. You wouldn’t know that, and no one around him would know that, because there was always something hostile coming out of someone’s mouth. Jungkook had hurt you, and he understood that, but it still didn’t excuse some of the things that you had accused him of over the years, and after a month or so he had gotten tired of playing polite and matched your antagonism; insult for insult, sneer for sneer. 

He wasn’t sure if they could ever fully reconcile. The words had been said and there was no taking them back. He thought last night was actually a step in the right direction, with you revealing why you acted the way that you did. But still, he wasn’t sure if things could ever be civil between the two of you. The embitterment ran so deep on both sides that it seemed almost impossible to even try. 

Jungkook remained lost in these thoughts when through his haze he heard Jimin speak a name that had him fearing for half a second that his friend could read his thoughts. 

“Y/N?” Jungkook asked. 

“Yeah, what actually happened last night?” Jimin glanced over, one brow arched. 

“Uhm, what do you mean?” 

“When I asked about why you were at the house and not at your apartment, you looked at Y/N.” Jimin slapped one hand to his chest. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” 

Well, he had only looked at her for all of half a second, so yeah, he had kind of hoped that no one would notice. But unfortunately, someone did, and that happened to be his nosy ass best friend. 

“Y/N got stuck at Pub last night with no ride because financial aid fucked up her refund, and she couldn’t get a ride, so I walked her home. That’s it.” Which was true. He had done exactly that, but simply failed to mention the crying and sentimental admissions. 

“So why didn’t you just say that when I asked?” 

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair. He really didn’t want to reveal any of the details from what you’d told him last night, but he knew Jimin wasn’t going to stop asking until he at least told him something of substance. “Because there were other people in the hall listening, and I didn’t want them getting the same ideas as you right now.” 

Jimin smirked. “Oh yeah, and what am I thinking?” 

Jungkook shook his head, turning to look out of the window. “I’m not even gonna say it.”

“Any talk of feelings or gushy bullshit?” Jimin chuckled, clearly joking, but Jungkook hesitated before answering, and that was all his friend needed to assume whatever theory was being crafted inside of his head. “Oh, Jesus, did you guys actually talk about your feelings? Oh my god, did you guys kiss? Fuck?” Jimin was looking at Jungkook frantically now, like he needed the answers to the questions being proposed in his favorite TV show. 

“You’re truly the biggest gossip I’ve ever met.” He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as Jimin pulled into his apartment complex. “It’s sad.”

“Your lack of answers is making me lean towards you guys fucking. And if that happened,” He let go of the steering wheel for a second to motion at his head as if it was exploding. “I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind. Like I get it, sex is sex, but after everything she’s said about you since you guys broke up, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head in disappointment like he had already decided that the two of you had definitely hooked up.

“She said that shit in the beginning because I made her feel terrible about herself, so she wanted to make me feel terrible too. I’m not saying that it’s right, but at this point we’ve both said shit we regret and didn’t mean.” He tried to make it seem more casual by shrugging. “And we didn’t sleep together. Chill out.”

Jimin’s expression was skeptical as he pulled into the parking space in front of Jungkook’s building and unlocked the doors. “Still, something definitely happened, because otherwise you would be talking about how she was acting like a bitch, but you’re not, which means that you weren’t acting like an asshole, which in turn means that something went down, because the last time the two of you were anything less than pissy to each other was when you were still dating.”

Jungkook simply placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, forcing a smile. “Your conspiracies are unmatched, my friend.” And then he was climbing out of the truck, shutting the door, and waving his friend goodbye without even looking back. 

However, that didn’t stop Jimin from rolling down his window as he began to back out of the parking space, throwing his final sentiment to the wind. “You guys getting back together was the kind of miracle I was talking about.”

———-

It was currently ten p.m. and the scene on Greek Drive was about two dozen or so Tri Delts making their way towards the most well known party frat on campus; Kappa Sigma. 

Kappa Sig was the blueprint for the types of fraternities that you see in various movies or TV shows. There was never a time when your shoes weren’t sticking to the wooden floors due to the constant barrage of alcohol being spilled by various drunken patrons. Each member had an actual mini bar set up in the corner of their room, which in the next few weeks, once football and tailgating started up, would be the most popular place to score some free drinks — if you were a girl that is. Kappa Sig was also fairly stereotypically frat in who it allowed entrance into its castle of alcohol and sex. Basically, if you were a girl, you were good. If you were a guy, well it was complicated. Usually it was a no go, or you were asked to pay such a ridiculously high cover at the door that no one in their right mind would pay it, or the easiest way: have a friend who had sway within the house. 

So fortunately for you, Sana, Jennie, and the rest of the Tri Delts, it was a non-issue. However, unfortunately, Yoongi, a good friend of yours and Jungkook’s, happened to be the president of Kappa Sig, and therefore Lambdas were allowed free reign. No cover charge and no being turned away, which meant tonight was bound to be interesting. 

“Jennie, hold my hand until we get there.” Sana didn’t even wait for a response and instead opted to simply interlock their fingers. “I need good luck in the crushes-actually-approaching-and-showing-interest department.”

Jennie laughed, swinging their arms back and forth between them. “Well if you can get even half my luck, it should be a good night for you.” 

“Oh, wow. Way to brag, bitch,” Sana said, throwing a hand over her heart. “We’ve got Mrs. Already Dick Whipped over here.” 

“I am not!” Jennie yelled. “He just…” 

“Lasted longer than sixty seconds?” You finished for her with a purse of your lips. 

She pointed at you. “That he fucking did. That and so, so much more.”

Sana groaned next to the two of you. “Ugh, I want that. I haven’t had good sex in months.”

“Well, even if things don’t happen with Jin tonight, there’s gonna be plenty of guys here,” You tried to remind her. 

“Uh yeah, lots of Lambda guys,” She reminded you right back. 

You shrugged. You didn’t like that it had become this sort of unwritten rule that Tri Delts and Lambdas couldn’t get together, but when everyone was pranking or fucking with each other’s stuff, it was kind of difficult to look past that just for the sake of a hookup. 

“Well, Kappa Sig boys for you tonight it is then.” You motioned towards the top of the driveway, the party seemingly already completely started. 

The music was blaring and there was a fairly long line of people waiting to get in, but it only took a couple minutes for you to move through the line and pass over the threshold and into the scene of dimmed lights, packed bodies, and endless alcohol. 

You knew you had a lot of things to worry about, but after the absolutely horrendous two days that you’d had to endure, between suspension threats, disastrous house meetings, crying in front of your ex, the boxer and lipstick fiasco, and financial aid meltdowns, you just wanted to be able to relax and have fun for a single night. You didn’t think that was too much to ask for, and the vodka bottle currently staring at you from the kitchen, seemed to be calling you and saying they were the perfect place to start in order to make that fun, relaxing night come true. 

Once everyone got into the house, the girls broke up into their mini groups of close friends. You motioned to Sana and Jennie to follow you to the kitchen so you could get some drinks. It took some effort but the three of you eventually managed to make your way through the crowd that couldn’t bother to idle anywhere else besides around the counter of various alcohols and plastic cups. Each of you quickly made a sufficiently strong cup of vodka combined with whatever random mixers were available. 

“Okay, now let’s find a comfy couch that isn’t covered in vomit stains to camp out on and get plastered.” You pointed towards the living room, where a majority of the party goers were. 

“A couch without vomit stains?” Jennie clicked her tongue. “That’s a tall order for Kappa Sig.”

“Indeed.” Sana giggled, pointing towards some of the few empty places to sit in the back corner. 

You made your way over there, exchanging hellos with a few people that you knew before plopping down on the couch, all three of you spilling a few splashes of your drinks on each other; not even a drop of alcohol in your systems yet. 

“Well this is a great start.” You laughed, taking a large gulp from your cup that had you grimacing. “Jesus, this cheap ass Pinnacle. Come on, KS, get your shit together.” 

“Well excuse the fuck out of me.” The voice came from someone you recognized immediately. 

You turned around, a wide grin plastered across your face. “It’s okay Yoongi. I still love you even though you’re making us suffer with cheap booze.” 

He sauntered over, sitting down on the armchair beside you. “Well, you’re lucky you’re one of my very good friends or I wouldn’t bless you with my own personal stash.” His smile was devilish as he pulled up a bottle of Tito's vodka.” 

There was a collective gasp from you and friends. “Wow, keeping the good shit all to yourself.” 

“Hey, didn’t I just say I was gonna help you out?” He twisted the cop off and motioned for the three of you to hold your cups out, and one by one he filled your cups up to the very top. “Be wise with this power, friends.” 

“You know, Yoongi,” Sana said from across the couch. “I’d be totally willing to not take advantage of your hospitalities if you’d wanna help me out in another department.” 

“Jesus, Sana!” You already knew where she was going with this. “You’re willing to drink rubbing alcohol instead of Tito’s just to get a good word in to Jin?” 

Sana simply shrugged, zero shame in her methods. 

Yoongi laughed. “Put a good word in? I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Appreciate it.” She raised her cup to his and they cheered in the hopeful union of Sana of Jin. 

Yoongi opened his mouth to speak, but something near the front of his house caught his eye. “Also, can we try to have no brawls in the house tonight?” 

“Huh?” You were confused until you followed his line of sight, a mob of Lambda boys entering the house one by one; Jungkook leading them all. 

“No fighting,” Yoongi reiterated. “Or no more Tito’s for you.” 

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip from your drink that was currently ninety percent vodka. “You haven’t heard? We’re cordial now.” 

“Cordial? A Greek Drive miracle, I guess.” He stood up from the armchair and motioned towards the guys. “I’m gonna go say hey to Kook.” 

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll catch up with you later.”

Yoongi had managed to stay good friends with both you and Jungkook throughout this entire process. You hated the fact that the three of you never got to hang out together anymore because of the tension between you and Jungkook, but, hey, that was life. 

“Don’t forget our deal, Yoongi!” Sana shouted as he started across the living room. 

“I got you, girl. But just so you know our bedrooms are right next to each other so be mindful.” He lowered his hands to the ground, silently saying to keep the volume down. 

“You’re the best!” She said, kissing her hand and throwing it out to the party host. 

“Someone might be getting lucky after all.” You squeezed at her thigh before standing up. “So while you celebrate that, I’m gonna put more mixer in this drink so I don’t blackout by midnight.” 

“You act like you don’t do that every other week.” Jennie laughed. 

You squinted at her. “Rude.” 

“Love you,” She said, making a heart shape with her hands as you made your way back towards the kitchen. 

You gave small smiles as you passed more people that you knew that had just arrived at the party. You glanced towards the door, the Lambda boys still congregating there. You couldn’t help your eyes from catching on Jungkook. He was standing there, grinning at everyone who approached him. He was the type that could be friends with anyone. A bright light that everyone gravitated towards, that no one ever found boring. You bit the inside of your cheek at the gnawing though that never failed to enter your head anytime you saw him. And it was like he could sense that pull, because then he was looking at you, giving a small nod of acknowledgment. 

A tiny, insignificant nod. At its very best, that was what your relationship was now, and that made you feel incredibly empty. 

You screwed your eyes shut for a second, shaking your head, trying to force those things from your head as you finally made it to the kitchen and poured a little bit of the first soda you could reach into your cup; just a little bit. 

And the party continued on like that for the next hour or two. Laughing and smiling with your friends and then hunting Yoongi down to steal some of his personal alcohol, all while catching random glances of Jungkook. It was fun and your buzz was well in effect by the time it was once again the moment to go find Yoongi.

You asked Sana, who was currently talking to Jin in the corner of the living room, if she had seen him. Apparently a very good word has been put in and two seemed to be hitting it off. 

“He went out back.” She motioned towards the sliding glass door. 

You offered a hum of thanks and left them to mingle alone as you made your way to the door and pulled it open. You searched the tiny groups of people that were standing around, not able to find Yoongi anywhere until you noticed two occupied chairs sitting in the distance. One was Yoongi and the other… Well, of course it just had to be Jungkook. 

You took a deep breath, taking a sip of your drink before walking out to the secluded area beneath the giant tree where they were chatting. You did a little run in the last few feet of approaching them before kneeling down next to Yoongi’s lawn chair. his body slightly hiding Jungkook’s. 

“Hello, my spirit bearing friend.” 

“And if it isn’t the spirit stealer herself,” Yoongi said as he grabbed your cup and poured a shot or two inside. “I already had to get another handle of Tito’s from my room. You’re killing me tonight.” 

“It was a bad day.” You poked your bottom lip out as an apology. “I’m sorry.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” He motioned towards your cup that he had filled up multiple times already tonight. 

“Well, I fucked up something with one of my scholarships, so now I’ve gotta find a place to live by the end of next week because I can’t afford to stay in the Tri Delt house.” You shrugged, the alcohol making the daunting situation seem less serious than it actually was. “So yeah, bad day.”

“Are you serious?” Yoongi said at the same time that Jungkook leaned forward with this concerned look on his face before saying, “Wait, what?”

“No… It’s, uhm, fine.” You glanced at the ground and began awkwardly scratching at your temple. “I don’t wanna ruin the mood for tonight. I’m gonna start looking for roommates tomorrow, so if either of you guys know of anyone.” You pointed your cup towards both of them with a shrug, trying to make it seem casual. 

Yoongi nodded, and then suddenly a smile was creeping across his face. You knew that expression well. It was the expression he’d made when you were all sixteen and drunk and decided that going to the rope swing down by the lake (the alligator infested lake) in the dead of night was a perfectly sane idea. Or when it was your senior year prom and he convinced you and Jungkook that an impromptu beach trip a few hours away would be fun, and it might actually have been if any of you had thought about money, hotel reservations, or just any sort of planning in general, but you didn’t, so it essentially became a three drive only to end up at a  Denny’s in a beach town instead of your hometown. The point was, you had seen that expression many, many times, and it was one that he made when a bad, impulsive idea started creeping through that brain of his.

“Whatever it is, no,” You said as you pushed some of the leaves and sticks off of the grass so you could sit down. 

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” He exclaimed. “It’s a brilliant idea actually.” 

“Yeah, we know that face anywhere.” Jungkook moved his chair forward slightly so that the three of you were now sitting in a triangle, facing one another. “Ideas that come from that face are never brilliant.” 

Yoongi smacked his lips. “Well, that’s offensive.” 

“What’s offensive is almost getting eaten by alligators because you convinced us by using bogus gator attack statistics,” You pointed out, and Jungkook chuckled at the memory. 

“But, we didn’t get eaten, so it’s fine.” He shrugged. 

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “So what’s this plan cooking in your head right now?” 

The devilish expression returned once more as he began looking back and forth between you and Jungkook. Oh, this was not good.

“Well, you said that you need a place to stay, right?” 

“...Right,” You said hesitantly, not completely sure where this was going until he turned his sights towards Jungkook; the phone call you’d overheard from earlier in the day flashing through your mind. 

“Yoongi, you idiot—” You started to say, but he was already spewing the other half of his grand plan. 

“And Jungkook needs a roommate!” He shouted, clapping his hands together like he’d just invented the surefire way to cure a hangover. “It’s perfect!”

There was a pause between the group, complete silence save from the chatting going on closer to the house — and then there was uncontrollable laughter. You and Jungkook doubled over at the most ridiculous proposal that you’d ever heard in your entire lives. 

Because it was totally ridiculous… Right?

“Why are you guys laughing?” Yoongi asked, looking genuinely confused. “That solves literally all of your problems.”

You caught the tear that was escaping out of the corner of your eye. “Yeah, it’s a great idea in theory Yoongi, if me and Jungkook didn’t have issues.” 

“I mean you guys are sitting here right now with each other.” He motioned between the two of you. “And there’s no fighting going on like there usually is. Plus, you said your houses were cordial now. I thought that meant you guys too.”

You and Jungkook glanced at each other, the amused smiles from Yoongi’s scheme faltering slightly. It had been a long time since you guys had been like this with each other. There was the talk after Pub last night and now you were here, just sitting and laughing with a mutual old friend. It was nice, you had to admit. But living together? That was just totally absurd. 

“Yoongi, that’s…” Jungkook trailed off, shaking his head, but not saying anything concrete. “And it doesn’t actually solve all of our problems… Our houses aren’t as cordial as we were hoping they’d be, even after we told them about President Kwon’s suspension threat.” You had texted Yoongi about the suspension fiasco yesterday and you were sure that Jungkook had done the same. 

“Wow, your members really are fucking idiots.” Yoongi laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You guys have way more pull than you realize.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

Yoongi held one finger up as he sipped from his cup, like he was about to drop some serious knowledge on the two presidents who had no control over their houses. “College kids are like toddlers. They need guidance. Before you guys were sort of like their big brother and sister whose lead they followed because they liked you and thought you were cool — that’s how you guys became presidents after all. Which means now you’re essentially like their parents.” 

You snorted at the idea, but it wasn’t the craziest analogy. You remembered when you were a freshman and first joined Tri Delt. The president back then felt like this motherly figure who you could go to for anything. It was hard for you to think that other people now saw you that way, but maybe they did and you hadn’t fully noticed yet. 

“You’re laughing, but I’m serious,” Yoongi started again. “Okay, so you guys told them they needed to get their shit together, right?”

You and Jungkook both nodded.

“And like I said, you guys are like their parents — their divorced parents who they respect but feel the need to defend depending on whose side they're on.”

Again, you and Jungkook just looked at each other, a tiny piece of understanding falling into place. You and him had just been two people who didn’t work out. You thought it was a simple issue, but you just never realized what the consequences of that would be. People choosing sides. Defending each other’s actions. Getting even. 

It was a mess. A mess that needed to be fixed somehow. 

“Well that’s nice to know,” Jungkook said, breaking you from your thoughts. “But it doesn’t actually help us fix anything.”

That was true. Just because you knew why everyone had so easily fallen into this feud didn’t change the fact that something needed to change. Something had to be done… And as you glanced over at Yoongi, his expression that signaled bad ideas returned once more. It let you know that he had an idea or two about what could be done. 

“Well, maybe you guys could reverse the divorce.” He shrugged. 

It took you a second to grasp what he was trying to say, and then you were sputtering and ripping the bottle of vodka from your friend’s hand. “You’re cut off.”

Jungkook scoffed, an incredulous look adorning his features as well. “Seriously, what the fuck did you smoke, dude?” 

“Nothing!” He grabbed the bottle back from your hand. “Strictly liquor tonight.”

“Like the roommate idea was one thing—” Jungkook started. 

“Oh!” Yoongi cut him off. “So you didn’t think Y/N moving in was the worst idea ever.”  

“I… I…” His mouth was closing and opening, like he truly didn’t know what to say. “Like as a last option it wouldn’t be the end of the world.” 

“What?!” You said, a little louder than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help it. He was actually considering the idea of the two of you moving in together? “Us? Living in the same house?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I mean it’s better than you being homeless and me being broke.”

Your head was spinning, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or that this insane idea was actually being proposed in a semi-serious manner. 

“See, this is perfect!” Yoongi sat the glass bottle down on the grass and reached out to grab at yours and Jungkook’s arms, yanking you closer together. “Just pretend to get back together. If you just said it, no one would probably believe you, but if you guys actually move in together, no one would think that you’d go that far just to get everyone to stop fighting. The Great Greek Ruse! It would be the best story of all time!”

This was crazy. This was absolutely fucking crazy, and you knew Yoongi was half-joking with all of this, but you could tell that there was little bit of hope gleaming off of his eyes. 

You grabbed Yoongi’s face on either side, forcing him to look at you. “You. Are. Fucking. Plastered.” You said each word slowly and deliberately to try and penetrate through the haze of drunkenness to get to the part of him that held actual common sense.

“Yes, I am in fact plastered.” He grabbed your wrists, his excitement only seeming to multiply. “But I would argue that the most logical solutions to problems come from being drunk. There’s no hesitation that an idea seems ridiculous, because everything seems less ridiculous when you're fucked up.”

You fisted your hands through your hair. “You’re crazy. Literally crazy. Jungkook, tell him he’s crazy.” You looked at him for confirmation, but he just sat there, pursing his lips like he was… thinking. Like he was actually considering it. “Are you serious?” 

He threw his hands up in a defensive position. “No, it’s completely crazy. It’s just… Do you have any better ideas?”

“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this right now.” You scoffed, falling back flat against the grass and throwing your hands over your face. “Even if we did try to be that stupid and lie to everyone, they would never in a million fucking years believe that we would ever get back together. We fought in front of them literally yesterday!” 

You peeked through your fingers and Jungkook held an expression that made it seem like he wasn’t so sure that was true. “I don’t know about that. All I did earlier was tell Jimin that we talked last night and two seconds later he had gone off on some tangent about how disappointed he was in me for sleeping with you again — and I corrected him that we didn’t, by the way.”

“Oh, fuck Jimin then,” You hissed, going off topic from this insane fake dating ruse. 

“Come on, you know how it is. Sana and Jennie would act the same way. It’s like Yoongi said, the Lambdas defend me and the Tri Delts defend you. That’s literally how this entire mess started.”

You sighed, sitting back up and raking any stray pieces of grass out of your hair. You didn’t say anything, because you truly didn’t know what the correct response was. Sure, you knew that you needed to figure out a way to not get your chapters suspended… But this idea of pretending to get back together? You tried to imagine the reactions, but you just couldn’t, because again, this was fucking absurd. You were about to verbally reiterate this point once more when Jungkook continued. 

“Look, all I’m saying is that when we broke up they saw how bad our relationship got and they decided to defend us. Maybe if we pretended to get back together, just for a little bit, they’d finally back off because the entire reason they started fighting in the first place wouldn’t even be an issue anymore.” Jungkook shrugged. He fucking shrugged. 

“Do you even understand what pretending to get back together entails?” You began waving your hands around and pointing at your head, because maybe it would help get the point across somehow. “It means acting like we actually want to be together in public. It means no flirting or going home with people on campus or at parties because someone we know might see us. Would you actually be willing to go through that much effort?”

There was a pause and Jungkook just stared at you for a second, and then he started… smiling. This small, sad sort of smile. “What could it hurt to try?” 

You scoffed, and scoffed, and scoffed, because you just couldn’t form words. You had explained it as best as you could, but neither he nor Yoongi seemed to get it. This meant… hugging, touching, kissing, just to prove to people that this was real. That you weren’t lying. That you wanted to be with him… And that he wanted to be with you. 

You knew you hadn’t said anything in a minute or so, just lost in the details and implications of this scheme. You were only brought back to reality by Yoongi, speaking his piece once again. “Y/N,” He started, his voice quieter than it had been when he was excitedly explaining the idea before, “The worst thing that happens is they don’t believe you. But if you actually pull this off, you guys could save your chapters.”

Your mouth went firm and straight. The worst thing that could happen was the members not believing you? You had to stifle a laugh as you glanced towards Jungkook. No, that definitely wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Not by a long shot. You knew why Jungkook didn’t see this as a terrible idea. He had nothing to lose, but you did.

However, in the end, you thought maybe the risk was worth it. Maybe this fucked up scheme could save you guys somehow.

“Uhm,” You finally started, clearing your throat to try and push your emotions back down into your chest. “So in the scenario that we actually tried this ridiculous plan… How would we go about telling everyone?”

You were staring at the ground, so you didn’t see what expression Jungkook’s face shifted into. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Was it relief from having a shot at mending the relationship with your members? Or was it regret from you feeding into this idea that he hadn’t actually been taking seriously? 

“Well,” Jungkook started, and you still refused to look at him. “First of all, did you say anything about our talk last night to anyone?”

“Not really. I told Sana that it was ‘enlightening,’ and basically said the same to Jennie. What about you?”

“I told Jimin that we talked about our feelings.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I’m sure he took that very well.”

“He was surprised…” Jungkook paused. “And I think that’s a good thing.”

You finally turned to look at him. “Why’s that a good thing?”

He stood up from his chair and held his hand out to you. You just stared at it for a second, confused at the kindness of the gesture before grabbing it and letting him help you up. He didn’t drop your hand even after you were standing up right, less than a foot of space separating you. 

“Because I think if our best friends look genuinely shocked by what we’re about to do, then it might be a lot more believable.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “Uhm, what’re we about to do?”

Jungkook pursed his lips, hesitant as he opened his mouth to reveal what he was thinking. “I think if we’re gonna pull this off, we need to… show them, not tell them.” It was instant, the way your hand trembled in his. Immediately he was squeezing around your fingers, silently trying to reassure you. “We don’t have to do this. It’s probably not even gonna work… But again, it’s just something to try.”

You knew you didn’t have to do this. You knew it was probably smarter not to do this. But some small part of you wanted to do this. Some stupidly hopeful part of you. 

You sucked a deep breath in through your nose and gave your bottom lip one hard, painful bite. “Fuck it, Kook.” You shifted your hand in his and interlocked your fingers. “Let’s do this.”

His eyes widened, the nickname slipping past your lips like the past two years never even existed. And then he was smiling, this pleasantly surprised smile that you hadn’t seen directed at you in what felt like an eternity. 

“I know it was my idea, but I can’t believe this is actually about to happen.” Yoongi was standing next to the two of you, hands holding either side of his face, like he was about to witness the ruse of the century. 

“Ready?” Jungkook asked. 

“I guess I am.” You shrugged, motioning towards the house. “Let’s do this.”

“Deep breath,” He said before inhaling, and you followed without hesitation. 

“Deep breath.” You nodded after you let the air slide past your lips. 

And then he was pulling you towards the house, hand in hand, the only thing keeping you from devolving into a panic attack was the way he kept squeezing your hand. 

You were approaching the fractured groups of people that stood outside of the sliding glass door, and all it took was one person to notice the two of you, and then suddenly people were pointing and staring, confused expressions appearing like a line of dominos, but you didn’t see any Lambdas or Tri Delts yet thankfully. Though, you knew that wasn’t going to last very long. 

You ignored the attention as best as you could as Jungkook opened the door and led you in through the back of the house. 

“So what exactly are we gonna do?” You whispered to him as you got closer to the living room; the main room of the house, with the most prying eyes. 

He slowed his walk and dropped your hand before placing his palm on your lower back as he continued to usher you forward into the wild circus the two of you were about to create. 

“I’m…” He paused as he pushed through the brush of people blocking the hallway until you were standing in the heart of the party. The lights in the house were all dimmed, but you still felt as though there was a bright, blinding spotlight on the two of you. 

“You’re gonna what?” You asked, looking around to find Lambdas and Tri Delts lounging in every corner. You started to fidget, wringing your hands and gritting your teeth until you felt someone lightly grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at them. 

“I’m gonna kiss you,” He whispered, hand dropping to cup the side of your face. “I’m gonna kiss you right now, okay?”

Your eyes widened a little, mouth parting. You knew earlier that was what he’d probably meant when he said to ‘show them,’ but now that you were actually here in the moment, with him so close to your face that you could feel his breath hitting your skin… You were freezing up. 

“I’m going to,” He said, leaning in closer. “If you changed your mind just push me back, because I’m really about to kiss you.” 

A small voice in your head replied that you really wanted him to, as sad as that was. But you kept that thought to yourself as you closed your eyes and said, “Do it.” 

His gaze dropped to your mouth and then he closed the gap, a gap that hadn’t been closed in over two years. His lips warm and soft, just like you remembered, suddenly pressing against your own. His hand slid to the back of your neck, the other coming to rest on your hip, the familiar motion in familiar places tugging your fingers like a magnet until they were twisting at the front of his shirt. 

You knew that this kiss needed to be believable. It couldn’t be over the top, like you were trying to put on a show, but it also couldn’t be stiff, like the two of you were forcing it. Which technically, you were forcing it. It was pre-planned and clinical… But it didn’t feel that way. 

You knew every tilt of his head before he decided to move, every light brush of his tongue before it met your own, every touch of his thumb before it grazed along the column of your throat. You knew everything. You remembered everything. And you wished you could say that there was at least one thing that was different. You wished you could say that when he hummed against your mouth, your stomach didn’t twist. But unfortunately, you couldn’t say that. Because it didn’t just twist — it warped into this undistinguishable, untangleable shape; one that you didn’t think anyone could ever hope to be able to unravel. 

It was getting tighter and tighter, tying a knot around your lungs. You thought you’d have to pull away, gasp for air, and maybe ruin this whole charade the two of you were putting on, but all you needed to do was try and focus a little less on Jungkook kissing and touching you, and you’d be able to hear the buzzing chatter that was already surround you on all sides. Your names being shouted in unison breaking you apart.

You pulled back, breath heavy and uneven as you stared at his mouth, and you were at the very least happy that he looked just as uneasy, his eyes dark and hooded and reflecting something that you couldn’t pinpoint. But you weren’t able to just sit there and stare at him forever. You had to face the consequences of what you’d done, and when you turned to face the congregating mob of Lambdas and Tri Delts, complete shock resting on every single one of their faces, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Y/N?!” People were shouting your name, dozens of them, and you couldn’t tell who they were, but your eyes were locking with two particular people whose voices pulled you straight to them; Sana and Jennie. 

“Jungkook, what the hell?!” Someone else said in the distance. 

“Okay, literally what the fuck is going on?” Everyone was saying something along these lines to the point that it was just a sea of expletives and confusion, but it was Jimin suddenly climbing on top of the one of the couches that caught the entire room’s attention. 

“I fucking knew it!” He yelled, shirt half-unbuttoned and clearly intoxicated as he jumped up and down on the cushions. “I knew something happened with you two last night, you bitch ass liar!” The upside to that proclamation was that it made this entire scene seem a whole hell of a lot more believable. 

“What happened last night?” Jennie asked, concern embedded in her features as she and Sana pushed to the front of the crowd. 

You couldn’t blame them for these over the top reactions, especially your best friends. They figured that you would tell them anything, and you would. If you actually managed to pull off this ruse, you were going to tell Sana and Jennie the details immediately. But you had to admit, Jungkook was right. Having your best friends raw reactions was making this seem more realistic and not as far-fetched. 

You glanced at Jungkook for a second, giving a small nod that said they were just going to have to improvise this as best as they could. 

“We… There was more to the talk last night than I told you,” You said, finally responding back to the random questions being thrown in every direction. 

“Yeah, I wanted to tell you, Jimin,” Jungkook started. “But it happened so suddenly, and I knew a lot of you guys weren’t going to understand, so we wanted to talk about how we were going to go about telling you guys about this,” He said as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers once more. The small gesture had people gasping as if that was more damning than making out. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sana rattled off, hands tangling in her hair like her head was about to overheat. “You guys are back together? Y/N, you didn’t say shit about this when I talked to you this morning.”

“I… we’re not back together… yet.” You squeezed his hand, silently telling him that you knew what you were doing. You thought saying you were completely back together was less believable than saying the two of you were simply talking again. “We’re just working through things, and I didn’t wanna jinx it when I was talking to you this morning, but I was going to tell you.”

You could see the hurt flashing through her eyes at you not telling her the truth, even though it wasn’t actually the truth. You wanted to pull her in and apologize, but she would know the actual circumstances soon enough.

“This is in-fucking-sane,” Taehyung said as he also stepped to the front. “Talking? If you’re doing that, you’re basically already back together.”

“Fuck, is that why you got pissed at me for making that comment about Y/N this morning, Kook?” Baekhyun shouted from the back. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know!”

This was actually going a lot better than you had anticipated. All of these tiny coincidences of what you had told your friends or the way the two of you had acted since yesterday were building up to be a pretty convincing lie. 

“You’re fine,” Jungkook shrugged. “You didn’t know — but now you do.” That last part came out a little more harsh; a believable act from the Lambda president. 

“I just don’t get it,” Joy said from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. “You just called him a lying piece of shit literally yesterday.”

Your jaw clenched. This was the part that had worried you the most, the fact that only yesterday the two of you had portrayed a relationship that wasn’t even slightly cordial, and now you were trying to say you had jumped right back into almost being in a relationship? It was a leap, but you were going to have to convince them to take the jump. 

“I know I said that,” You started, clearing your throat to try and sound louder and more confident. “But I only said that because I was feeling hurt. We ran into each other after everything that happened yesterday and apologized. We ended up hanging out the entire night and texting all day today, and… and we talked about things that we haven’t talked about in a really, really long time.” That part was true at least. “Honestly, we weren’t going to say anything for a while, because we thought it would be too sudden for you guys, but we’ve been drinking and we kind of just forgot about how you guys might react. I’m sorry it happened like this.”

Everyone was quiet for a second. You looked around and found a slew of people that belonged to neither house recording this entire debacle. You weren’t sure where the two of you should go from here. Should the two of you stay together for the rest of the night or should you go talk to your friends? You didn’t know the best route to take. However, you and Jungkook had to be the luckiest people in the entire world, because you had a friend like Yoongi, who not only gave you ideas that were so crazy that they just might work, but also could get you out of any hiccups that his said crazy plans might run into.

“So everyone knows about the happy couple now?” Yoongi threw his arms around you and Jungkook, a beaming smile staring out at the crowd of stunned Tri Delts and Lambdas. “Perfect, because I’m shit at keeping secrets.”

“Wait, you knew?” Jennie asked. 

“Yeah, they were both texting me this morning about all of their gross, mushy feelings.” He faked a gag for good measure. “You guys know I’m friends with both of them so they wanted an impartial opinion. Plus, as their very good friend I’ve wanted them to get back together since they broke up, so I may have pushed them along in the right direction.” You weren’t sure if that was what Yoongi actually felt or if he was just saying it for whatever reason. Either way, you were actually happy because it was only adding to the air of believability. “So instead of standing there like you’re devastated, maybe seem happy for this newly rekindled love?”

“Give us a minute,” Johnny said, his tall head poking up from the crowd in the back. “We’re in shock.” 

You finally let yourself look at Jungkook again. He was already waiting for you with a small upward tilt of his lips. To everyone else it probably just looked like a smile between two people who were reconciling, but to you it was a sign of victory. The two of you did it. They believed you — at least for now. 

“Okay, can we at least talk to you in private?” Sana asked, now that the crowd was starting to disperse to simmer over this newfound information. 

“Yeah, let’s talk.” You nodded and then turned to whisper into Jungkook’s ear. “I’m telling them the truth, but no one else.”

“Yeah, I’m telling Jimin and that’s it,” He murmured. 

“Okay,” You said and then quickly pressed a small peck to his lips before dropping his hand and immediately getting dragged away by your friends before you could say a single word. 

You spent the next half hour explaining to them every detail of the Great Greek Ruse Yoongi had cooked up, and by the end of it they were completely slack jawed before disintegrating into a fit of laughter at just how insane the two of you must have been to try and pull off something like that. 

Your only response to them being that there were only a few things in life that could end a war that was saturated in as much hostility as the one between the Tri Delts and the Lambdas; love being one of them — even if it was fake.  

 ———---

The party continued on after that. Your friends not allowing you out of their sights as they bombarded you with every idea that danced through their heads about how to keep the ploy of yours and Jungkook’s fake relationship up for as long as possible, and how the two of you were going to go about hooking up with people without everyone finding out. You were actually thankful for that, because you and Jungkook hadn’t gotten a chance to work out the logistics of how you were going to act in public. 

You simply listened as Sana and Jennie amused themselves with this situation that their best friend had gotten themself involved in when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You pulled it out, Jungkook’s contact flashed across the screen with a text. You should probably get around to changing his contact name from ‘Jungkook the Jackass’ in case anyone ever caught a glance at your phone. Meet me out front, the text said. 

“I’ll be right back,” You told Sana and Jennie as you lifted yourself off of the couch. “I’ve gotta talk to Jungkook.”

“Tell your lover I said hello!” Sana chuckled, no longer having that hurt like in her eye from earlier now that she was in on everything. 

You quickly moved through the crowd of people that was now beginning to thin as the night got later and later before stepping past the front door. You looked around for a second before you noticed Jungkook standing at the base of the driveway waiting for you. He spotted you, motioning for you to come down. You wondered what he wanted. Probably to just gloat in relief that their idiot plan actually succeeded. 

“Hey,” You whispered as you decided to stand a little bit closer to him than you normally would just in case anyone was watching. “What’s up?” 

He looked around, presumably to make sure no one was in ear shot, and when he found that the coast was clear he turned towards you, an ecstatic grin staring at you. “I can’t believe that actually worked.” 

“I can’t either. Yoongi was right. They really are like toddlers.” You laughed. 

“Yeah, I mean we don’t know for sure yet if this is actually gonna stop them from fighting, but I saw some of the members who I know have had issues in the past actually talking, so I think that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, I saw them too.” Lambdas and Tri Delts who had pulled some pretty spectacular pranks on one another seen speaking in what looked to be a respectful manner? A complete miracle. “How’d Jimin take the news?”

“Oh, he thinks it’s completely hilarious.” Jungkook chuckled. 

You smiled. “Sana and Jennie think the same.”

“I figured they would. Though seeing them that pissed off was kind of funny.” He paused, looking off into the distance before shoving his hand into his pockets. “But anyways, the reason I called you out here was to give you this.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and made a fist in front of you. You opened your palm to receive whatever he was trying to give you; a single key suddenly falling into your grasp. “I have a spare in my car, but that’s the key to my apartment — or I guess our apartment now.” He laughed, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. 

You had been so focused on the fake dating aspect of this predicament that you had almost forgotten about your living situation. You held it up between the two of you. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You were about to move in with your ex, while everyone except for your best friends believed that you were back together. 

“Are we really gonna do this?” You finally asked. 

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t be able to make it work. I think the past two days showed that we can be around each other and not act crazy.”

You agreed that things had definitely shifted, and not just because you had to pretend to be in a relationship now. You wanted to think that you could make it work, that you could put your petty, bitter ways behind you.

And when you told Jungkook that you felt the exact same way about making things work before leaving to go home for one of your last few nights in the Tri Delt house, you truly meant what you had said to him… But sometimes situations happen, and as they say, old habits die hard. 

--------

three days later

You were completely out of breath as you climbed the stairs to your new apartment building, about a dozen duffle bags filled with your various belongings were wrapped around your body as you tried to keep your phone smashed between your shoulder and your ear. 

“Why’d you decide to move out early?” Jennie whined from the otherside of the line. “Did you wanna get away from us that bad?”

You tried to muster a laugh as you attempted to make it up the final few steps without passing out. “Of course I wanted to stay longer, but both of my classes got cancelled, and I’d rather just get it over with than have to deal with it on a Friday like I was going to.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” She huffed. “But I’m still not happy about you having to live with the devil’s spawn.”

You tsked at her. “Hey, we’re all trying to get along now, remember?” 

“I know… But I’m still acting like a bitch to Jimin, I don’t care,” She added quickly. 

“Well, that one I’m okay with.” You chuckled. “But I just got to my apartment, so I’ll call you back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay, talk to you later.” And then the line went dead and you were fishing for the key that Jungkook had handed you outside of Kappa Sigma on Saturday night. 

You couldn’t believe it had only been three days, but in those three days things had been going okay, actually. There had been no incidents involving either the Tri Delt or Lambda house, and after the everyday, non-stop antics from the past few years, that was as close to divine intervention as you could get. So yes, you could say that maybe you had developed a slight bit of optimism. Everything was working out at the sorority, you actually had a place to live — things truly were going well. But you should’ve known that when things were going well, Jeon Jungkook was always there to throw a wrench in your happiness, because as you wiggled the key inside of the lock and pushed your way inside, the last thing you had ever wanted to see in your entire life was staring right back at you. 

Your ex-boyfriend, who publicly was once again your actual boyfriend, whom you still had occasional feelings of longing for, was currently balls-deep in a girl on his living room couch — which was now also your living room couch.

The door slammed against the wall before you could stop it, both of their terrified faces suddenly turning to you as they immediately yanked a blanket over their naked bodies. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Jungkook yelled. “You said you were coming Friday!” 

You couldn’t help it. The tiny, petty demon you had tried to squash down in size over the past few days was suddenly bubbling over at the flare of emotions ricocheting inside of your head. Your teeth gritted together, eyes cutting daggers across his skin as you forced a saccharine smile as fake as this relationship. 

“Well, honey, I’m home now.”

[moonbeamsung]

Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele​ @kisshim​ @radiorenjun​

network tags: @kpopscape​ @neo-constellations​ @starryktown​ @culture-cafe​ @dreamlab-nct​

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

[janiedean]

... the tyrion/sansa hairdresser/mortician au no one was expecting but happened

well @meri-vaahtoaa I TOLD YOU IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN TODAY AND IT HAPPENED, have a for now untitled tyrion/sansa mortician/hairdresser au inspired by this post with bonus guest star jeyne p. u___u don't look for angst, also extremely background mentioned jb plus jaime & bronn being themselves in the backstory, have fun u__u

This fucking teaches me to be drunk around both my brother and Bronn, Tyrion thinks for the umpteenth time as he keeps on walking - he needs a damned salon and he needs it now but he also had to get out of the neighborhood because like hell he’s going to risk running into anyone who knows his father. That’s the… least thing he needs, honestly, as if his life choices aren’t already something he has to fight for every other moment and he can’t fucking wait to be out of the house, which should be soon -

If he doesn’t get thrown out of his internship because of his horrible drunk choices.

Why did they have drinks together, why did they have drunk bets, why did he bet with Jaime that he would dye his hair bright blue if he stopped beating around the bush and confessed to the bartender that he’s been into her since they started coming to that specific place for drinks because he chickened out of it for months, except -

Except Jaime went and did it and it turned out that she actually had been looking back and Tyrion hadn’t been wrong in that assessment, but then he had to do it and he actually went and used a do it yourself dye and -

Well.

He honestly can’t go and start his apprenticeship with blue hair that’s also… well, not even professionally dyed, and considering the arguments that it created the least thing he needs is going somewhere he’d be recognized.

So, he’s plenty out of the neighborhood, but he hasn’t found someplace that felt… well, not extra fancy. The second-least thing he needs is extra fancy shops where people would send looks his way that he could absolutely do without.

Also, it’s fucking hot. Why did he do that in the middle of summer again? And why couldn’t he have bet something more reasonable - right, it was Bronn’s idea and they were drunk. Fuck.

He walks a bit more, wondering if maybe he should sit down and check on Google Maps if he’s ended up in the only area of the city that doesn’t have any, and then he sees one on the other side of the road - fine, he stopped because he wondered who names a hair salon Beauty and the Beast, but it costs nothing to have a look from the outside, right?

He crosses the street and walks up to the door.

First thing, the pricing list outside it looks… well, it’s not cheap, but it’s certainly not the ridiculous fares they ask where his sister goes to have her hair done, which is exceedingly good since he doesn’t want to spend a salary’s worth of an average office employee to get that blue crap out of his hair. He looks through the glass door - there is just one woman inside getting her hair done, which is also good because the least people around the shorter the wait, it certainly does look clean and while the pastel aesthetic is maybe a bit too much for his tastes - everything is a pastel shade, from the light yellow on the floor to the pale pink and violet of the chairs and the powder blue of the walls… well, beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to it, and the woman on the chair is chatting amicably with the chestnut-haired girl doing her hair and doesn’t look like she hates being there or like she chose the wrong shop.

Also, it’s two PM and he knows this is going to take long. He can hardly afford to fuck around much longer.

He pushes the door open and walks into the shop.

“Welcome!” The chestnut-haired girl says, giving him a nice smile. “Sorry if I don’t come over, but if you sit for a minute my colleague will be back from her coffee break shortly.”

“Sure,” he says, “no hurry,” and he goes sitting on one of the pale violet chairs on the side - they’re comfortable, at least, and he considers taking out the book he brought with to pass the time, but then -

“Hello and welcome! Can I get you a glass of water” Someone else chirps from his side, and right, he did hear the door open -

Oh.

“Hi,” he blurts, staring into a pair of lovely blue eyes belonging to supposedly the other girl working here - she has long auburn hair styled in a french braid and is wearing a blue summer dress that pairs with her eyes perfectly and she’s smiling down at him as if she’s not horrified by his horrid dye-job, or by his presence in the first place, which is his general experience in this kind of shops, so - that’s good, at least. “And uh, thanks,” he says, realizing he is thirsty.

“Be right back! Sorry, I was taking my break but we have no appointments today, so I’ll be on your case very soon.”

She goes to the corner of the room and grabs a glass of water from a dispenser, then brings it to him - shit, he needed it.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“Er,” he says, “I dyed that hair for a bet but I was called for an internship yesterday, and I start on Monday, so… I need a removal. If it’s possible.”

The girl leans closer, taking a good look at his hair.

“Hm,” she says, “it might take a while, but I think it’s possible. It’s not a very good dye job, if I can say so.”

He snorts. “Oh, you can. Please, I did it and I have regretted it every moment since.”

“Well,” she nods, “you’re lucky that most likely no one will show up for anything complicated today then. Jeyne, can you handle other customers in case?”

“Sure,” the chestnut-haired girl replies. “As if I don’t know you’ll have the time of your life.”

She rolls her eyes, then goes to a wardrobe in the corner and finds him a towel, tucks it around his neck and lowers a chair near the small sinks at the bottom of the shop so he can sit on it - he does, feeling extremely thankful that it’s extremely comfortable leather, and he can hear her tutting about bad dyes under her breath as she washes his hair once, twice, thrice, and her fingers feel really good on his scalp but he’s not going to think about that now.

“Just for the record,” she asks as she rinses it, “do you just want the dye to go away or do you want a cut, too?”

“Hell,” he says, “I need to look presentable. I suppose the cut can’t hurt.”

“Will do,” she chirps again, “and by the way, never use that kind of dye again. Not with hair this nice.”

Tyrion would have toppled off the chair if his head wasn’t thrown too far back for it to happen.

“I have nice hair now?”

“You can feel it,” she replies, “under all this… this,” she says, shaking her head.

“I know,” he says, “bad choices.”

“Extremely,” she goes on, rinsing. “But don’t you worry. I’ll have it fixed.”

“Really,” chestnut-haired girl says, “Sansa is a pro with that kind of thing. You’re in good hands.”

Oh. So her name is Sansa. It’s pretty, he thinks.

“Well,” he says, “I can’t wait to see how you manage it. I’m Tyrion, by the way. Figures you should know if I know yours?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she goes on, and gives his hair a last rinse. “Right, can you move forward?” He does and she dries his hair with the towel, then goes to find a mantel that somehow he doesn’t drown in. “Please,” she says, “on whichever free chair you prefer.”

He picks an empty one two spots away from Jeyne and the other woman and lowers it so he can sit down, and then Sansa raises it up again until his still sadly blue head is at the right height.

“Hm,” she says, grabbing a lock and feeling it between her fingers, “from what I see here you’re a natural blonde?”

“Sort of,” he shrugs. He is - his hair isn’t as golden as his siblings’, but it definitely is on that shade. Not that he ever bothered to look into it. “Wait,” he says, fishing into his pocket, and then he grabs his phone and shows her a picture Bronn took of him and Jaime during Tyrion’s latest birthday party which is about the only one of his he’s kept there where you can see his actual color very well. She takes it, squints, zooms on his head, then nods and hands him back the phone.

“Well,” she says, “we’re going to have to use a color remover to take out the blue pigment, then apply some more pigment to allow for the proteins in the hair to adhere to it. Then… yeah, possibly mix a few different types of toners to reach the goal of your natural hair color, and it’s going to take a while, but we should get there. Nothing that terrible.”

“Er,” he blurts, “how much chemistry did you have to study to get there?”

She smiles a bit wider.

“Yeah, I know, but some people don’t like if we talk like that. It makes it sound complicated, I’m told.”

“Not at all,” he says, waiting as Jeyne, who has finished the other woman’s hair, goes to the back room to presumably get Sansa at least the color remover, “not like it’s not… sort of my thing, too,” he says, and then he bites his own tongue - why did he ever do that, now she’s going to decide he’s a creep or something -

“Really,” she says as Jeyne comes back and hands her the remover, “do lean your head back. And what it is that you do?”

He takes a deep breath and tells her.

—

“Oh, so you’re a mortician?” Sansa says happily as she keeps on applying the remover to his hair, her fingers pressing along his scalp as she rubs it in. To her credit, she doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s creepy.

“Well, apprentice,” he shrugs, “but yeah, working on it. And starting an internship soon. Where I can’t… look like this. But yes. Just going through my degree - I had a final a couple days ago. Fuck, it was so embarrassing.”

“Did they judge your hair?”

“Called it apocalyptic, but I aced it.”

“Nice. What was it about?”

“Embalming, mostly,” he sighs. “All the chemistry about formadelhyde I had to learn.”

“Fun fact,” Sansa grins, “do you know they use it in clothing?”

… He somehow had not known that.

“What? Really? They forgot to cover that part.”

“Well,” Sansa says, “I used to crash fashion school lessons, my brother’s boyfriend snuck me in. I learned a lot. I think it’s because of the preserving qualities, though I’m sure it wasn’t… all of it.”

“I mean,” Tyrion blurts, “it’s a preservative but it’s also a disinfectant. Destroys bacteria and their food supply, and it’s a dehydrator, there’s a reason why we use it that much.”

“Hm,” Sansa nods, starting to put aluminium stripes on his hair - fuck, he looks ridiculous like this, “one wonders why you don’t just use alcohol then? Because I thought it was kind of carcinogen.”

Well, she did listen to those lessons for sure.

“It’s cheaper,” Tyrion sighs, “a lot cheaper. It cuts costs. Guess I’ll resign myself to the cancer risk.”

She snorts. “Please,” she says, keeping on placing those stripes carefully, “I’m pretty sure that’s exaggerating a bit. There, they should rest for half an hour. I have to place a few calls now but if you want to read while I’m at it feel free to, just don’t move your head around too much.”

“Roger that,” Tyrion nods, and settles back in the chair.

He has a feeling it’s going to be long, but at least she’s very good company. Jeyne looks about to say something but then another woman comes in the shop and she goes to greet her, and Tyrion goes back to his Chinese sci-fi book that he’s really enjoying and hopes that at the end of it he doesn’t have to shave his head because that dye was that bad.

—

Half an hour later, after washing away the remover, Sansa has moved on to applying the first round of pigment to his hair - the blue did go out, but it still looks…. well. Bad. He can see it just looking at it in the mirror.

“So, she says, “is your internship at a funeral home?”

“Yes,” he replies, “it’s during the last six months of the degree, then you write your thesis and you get your license, and honestly, it’s a nice funeral home. I hope they hire me for good. Anyway, it makes sense. We need to have… experiences with, uh, cases, you know, uh -“

“You can say bodies,” Sansa grins brightly, “it’s fine. I know what you do in funeral homes.”

“Oh, thank God,” he blurts. “I’m sorry, uh, people tend to get queasy when I mention them. The bodies, I mean.”

“That sounds nonsensical,” Sansa shrugs, “what do people think happens when they die? Anyway, you can absolutely say that. Hm, here we go, I think these can stay. Another… yeah. Half-hour, forty-five minutes? Get yourself comfortable. I’ll go mix those toners meanwhile.”

Oh. Right. The toners. Fuck, he can’t wait for this entire dye business to be over. Honestly, he hasn’t done that when he was fifteen, he should have stuck with it.

He grabs his book back and starts reading it again, except that he finds himself wishing he could chat with Sansa some more and he needs to get that thought out of his head right now, no reason to set himself up for failure.

He reads on.

—

Later, she’s washed his hair again and she’s still mixing the toners.

“Yeah,” she says, “I think this need a bit more work, but I’m curious. Is there anything you don’t like about your school? Because you sounded really excited before.”

Did I, Tyrion thinks, but then again… he almost never talks about it to anyone except Jaime or Bronn because everyone else thinks it’s morbid, and somehow this girl who owns a wholly pastel shop actually seems to enjoy discussing the topic, so why the hell not?

“I mean,” he says, “I think we should do autopsies.”

“Oh, you don’t? I’d have expected it.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, “me too, and I think we should for, you know, completion and so on, but we don’t, so I guess I’ll read up on it.”

“But,” she says, “hypothetically,” and she’s kind of smiling slyly, what, “let’s say that someone wakes up while embalming them. What do you do then?”

“I mean,” Tyrion replies, slowly, “I think there’s a pretty huge difference between a living body and a dead one?”

“Sansa, please,” Jeyne says as she combs through the hair of the other woman, who looks… a tiny bit disturbed, but neither Jeyne nor Sansa are, so… who cares. right?, “never mind that you need a bit more toner, but I think there’s a thing named rigor mortis that’d make it pretty fucking obvious.”

“That,” Tyrion replies, “also if one gets stuck in a fridge for a few days I think you’d be dead anyway. Not to be, you know, morbid.”

Sansa mixes a bit more toner and smiles wider. Right. She was so fucking with him. “I mean, you did pump them full of carcinogen just before, right?”

“Right,” he laughs as she tells him to lean back and starts applying the toner to his poor roots, “we did, technically.”

“Just stay still,” she goes on, “it’ll be another hour, I think. Then I can cut.”

Well, he decides, at least this entire process is being not overtly miserable.

He leans back and lets her apply the toner and then cover it with the aluminium stripes all over again.

—

“So,” she says later while Jeyne is going through the third client of the day and he’s sitting on the chair again after his hair was thoroughly rinsed and washed for the umpteenth time — he lost count, honestly, but now it does look like his usual shade, sort of, he thinks, “can I ask what was this infamous bet about? Also, I can see your hair is naturally wavy — should I just trim the edges? Because I can see you cut it yourself and it’s not bad but you kind of hacked at them.”

“Er, yes,” he says, “sounds good. Wait, naturally wavy?”

“It is,” she says, “I can recognize it.”

“I, uh,” he coughs, “I don’t think I ever had it long enough to notice?”

“It’s the exact same as your brother’s,” she shrugs, “just a bit darker, but again, this should tide you over for a while. I mean, by the time it wears off whatever travesty you did to your hair in the first place should be fixed and it’ll be as before and no one will notice.”

“Then - I guess you can trim only and I’ll see,” he says, his throat suddenly feeling dry. No one ever compared him to Jaime in that sense without making it… well. About how he’s not the person with the good looks in the family, so this entire thing is just - weird. “Anyway, uh, you can ask about the bet. I mean, it’s just embarrassing.”

“I’m listening,” she says, cutting the edges of his hair slowly, and surely she puts a lot more thought it in than he does while cutting it, but then again… it’s her job and he learned because he didn’t want his father’s barber to go near his head.

“Er, so,” he clears his throat again, trying to figure out how to tell her the sanitized version of it while sparing her from all the family ugliness, “I was out drinking with the brother and the best friend at the same bar we’ve been going to for months because they have good drinks and the brother absolutely had a crush on the bartender, except that he came from a, uh, toxic relationship, let’s put it like that, and I thought he wasn’t going to fess up ever, so - we were drunk and it came out and I said of course I’d dye my hair that horrid color if he fessed up to her and like, I thought he never would but he actually went and did it and — yeah. I mean, glad for him that it went well but not my greatest moment.”

“Aw,” Sansa replies, keeping on trimming, “I like a nice love story. I imagine he doesn’t share our interest in formadelhyde.”

Why does his heart beat a tiny bit faster when she says our interest?

“No,” Tyrion shakes his head, “he’s more into nerding over Middle Ages weapons, but at least he didn’t tell me Six Feet Under was boring, so.”

“I loved that show,” she replies, “who’d say it’s boring?”

“It’s my favorite,” he shrugs a bit as she puts away the scissors. “And a lot of people, but it seems like you have good taste.”

She nods as she grabs some lotion that she supposedly has to pass into his hair before drying it. “And what about you?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, he had a nice love story going into port, so what about you?”

“Er,” he hopes he’s not blushing, fuck, he’s usually not — he doesn’t fluster, fucking hell, “I — really am not looking. My family kind of… fucked up the only serious relationship I had going for me and most people get put off at the whole I want to be a mortician thing, so.”

“What kind of family fucks up relationships for other people?”

“The kind we come from,” he sighs, “but at least he’s out of that circus and I’ll be the moment I graduate.”

“Nice,” Sansa nods, “now just hold on a moment and I’m drying it.”

He nods — she grabs an hair dryer and starts blowing it and yes, he can see she got the exact shade right now that it’s not wet anymore, and — well, of course it’s her job to make it look good but the more she proceeds the nicer it looks, and now he can vaguely see what she meant when she talked about natural curls, and also… it feels fluffier? Lighter? He has no fucking clue, but the moment she’s finished — well.

“Fuck,” he admits, “I don’t think my hair ever looked this nice in my entire life.”

She grins. “I know how to do my job. Another moment.” She sprays some more lotion on her hands and runs it through his hair again. “This was just for a bit of nutriment, but there you are. You know, if you treat it a bit more nicely you might not need it me to make it look good.”

“Yeah, well, and what if I’d like to come back here instead?” He blurts, not knowing what the fuck he’s aiming for, but then she grins back a bit wider.

“I always like making new clients,” she replies, “especially when they’re cute and they don’t only want to talk about the gossip in magazines. That gets boring after a while.”

Wait, did she call him cute?

“Tell you what,” she keeps on as she takes the mantel off him and waits for him to get off the chair and follow her to the counter, “let’s say I don’t give all new clients a ten percent discount but I do give it to the ones I like.”

What the fuck —

“So, here you go.”

She hands him a receipt… with a fifteen per cent discount. “But you have to promise me you won’t use that crap dye anymore. That’s probably more cancer-inducing than formaldehyde could ever be.”

He has to laugh at that.

“Fair,” he says, “I won’t. Maybe I’ll come back before my last final. It’s two weeks from now,” he says, slowly, “I might want to look good for it. As much as it goes, anyway.”

“Oh, I’ll make you look incredible, don’t you worry.” She takes his card, swipes it, hands him the POS. He’s sure he doesn’t let it drop just out of sheer force of will. The payment goes through, she gives him his receipt and he pockets it, his hand still sweating —

“I’ll see you to the door,” she goes on, and she follows him out.

“So, Tyrion,” she grins again, “see you in two weeks?”

“Oh,” he replies, “absolutely.”

“And let me know how the internship thing works out. I like to know what’s up with the clients I like,” she winks, and then she leans down and kisses his cheek before going back into the shop.

Tyrion just stands there dumbfounded and only takes a few steps from the shop, and he didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he hears Jeyne the moment he starts walking away and —

“Sansa, I know you said you’d be forward after that asshole Harry, but I never saw you being that obvious. You really liked our mortician or what?”

“So what?” Sansa replies, and Tyrion thinks he’ll faint. “No point in playing hard to get and all. When he comes back I’m absolutely asking him out for coffee or something. I did like him.”

“Good for you,” Jeyne replies, “he seems nice and you deserve a nice guy. Even if that dye was a really crap choice on his part.”

“Oh, if I have a say in it no bad dye is ever coming near that hair. It was so nice,” she replies, and at that point he leaves because he really shouldn’t be doing this and he will faint, but —

But he smiles to himself all the way home.

He thinks he’s never looked forward to a final that much, and if she does really ask him out for coffee, no way he’s being an idiot and saying no.

And if he’ll brush up on cool embalming facts before then, well, you can’t blame him, right?

End.