#yes they are roommates and yes it's exactly like that one Vine

[anitoko-17294]

some fun facts about Bitter Cacao Cookie (Aka, Fallen-hero!Dark Cacao Cookie)

@xaytheloser @rosejigglypuff76

Providing you both some more of the goods

His outfit is a reference to Our Lady of Sorrow, a catholic devotion and popular religious theme (Kinda fitting since Bitter Cacao is the beast of sorrow)

He has never actually done anything to harm his kingdom directly, but rather chooses to do so indirectly in order to not draw attention to himself (And yes, this has failed), one these methods of attacking his kingdom includes sending out vines covered with purple flowers that, if you made the mistake of smelling them, you too would feel an endless need to mourn

See that crescent-shaped beauty mark on Bitter Cacao's cheek? This is actually based off a headcanon I have that he had been connected to Moonlight Cookie back when he was known as Dark Cacao Cookie (And yes, Moonlight Cookie is aware of what happened to Dark Cacao, and even to this day, she is hellbent on bringing him out of his anguish-induced stupor)

His senses are sharper than usual (His hearing in particular to be more specific), so even a sudden loud noise is enough to trigger a crying jab in the king

His sense of self-care? Besides showering, his sense of self care is basically non-existent

BONUS: The statuses of the other dark cacaoians (And those who are aware of the situation)

Snowberry Cookie (Oc of mine): Yes, she still loves him, even after he made (multiple) attempts to plunge the kingdom into a literal version of the Great Depression. She tries to find normalcy in her and her husband's usual routine, even if it does mean having to be given stares of concern from the kingdom's citizens. She’s also the one who always reminds Bitter Cacao to take care of himself since he tends to forget about his own health psychically and mentally even before he became a beast

Licorice Cookie (I’m just gonna assume he lives there): Keeps an eye on the kingdom's walls (Along with calming the Licorice Monsters down if they start getting too restless as Bitter Cacao is incredibly sensitive to loud noises). Keep in mind that he’s doing this mostly out of pity for the king, as well as the fact that he had left the Cookies of Darkness alongside Affagato after hearing about the status of the kingdom (Spoiler alert: It’s not good, AT ALL)

Affagato Cookie: As per mentioned, he too had left the cookies of darkness to return to the Dark Cacao Kingdom because again, kingdom wasn’t exactly in good spirits. He’s not liked AT ALL by the other citizens, given how he had attempted to take over the kingdom, as well as nearly screwing the Creme republic over. He does at least manage to keep in contact with Cream Unicorn Cookie, so at least he’s not totally alone. He also tries to help out the kingdom by attempting to cheer the king up, and though his attempts rarely succeed, when they do, he swears that he can see the tiniest smile appear on Bitter Cacao's face

Milk Cookie (His tribe lives near the Dark Cacao kingdom territory, so it technically counts): He tries to be optimistic, but with the fact that Bitter Cacao had plunged the entire Dark Cacao Kingdom into a literal Great Depression, alongside the so-called "disappearance" of Dark Choco Cookie, he's not exactly in good spirits, though he wouldn’t ever admit so

Espresso Cookie (They’re an ancestor to the coffee tribe, so again, it counts): She had initially trekked to the dark cacao kingdom to see their ancestors (Aka, the coffee tribe), but decided to stay in the kingdom in order to find a way to bring Bitter Cacao out of his anguish-induced stupor. They stay with Affagato cookie (They’re basically roommates)

Also, if anyone asks, I hc that Espresso is a transwoman who uses she/they

Cocoa Cookie (She’s technically a cacaoian): She actually wasn’t aware about what was going on until a relative who lived in the kingdom gave her the news, and to put it mildly, she’s a nervous wreck about the ordeal

Mint Choco Cookie: He tries not to let the stress of the situation in his home kingdom get the better of him, but that’s easier said than done

Caramel Arrow Cookie: She's often quoted as the mom of the royal family, as she, alongside Snowberry Cookid, are often the ones who constantly pesters Bitter Cacao to take care of himself, with C. Arrow even resorting to dragging him to bed or the dinner table if she has to

Crunchy Chip Cookie: …he doesn’t like to talk about it

Stormbringer Cookie: She honestly didn’t even know about the situation in the dark cacao kingdom at first until she smelled one of the sorrow flowers by accident and wouldn’t stop crying for DAYS. She often tries to help the kingdom by giving travelers a stern warning about the sorrow flowers, as well as often trying to cheer up Bitter Cacao anytime he visits the Chococake tower by offering him Cotten candy clouds

Dark Choco Cookie: ………lets just say you don’t want to know

[oceans-goddess]

Tyler Galpin x Reader Series Pt. 2-- Pizza Shop

Summary: You cross paths with Tyler Galpin again, and he is just as smitten with you as last time-- not that you notice, of course. Enjoy!

Link to Pt. 1

Link to Pt. 3

_______________________________________________________________________

“Y/n, what in the world is that smell?” Your roommate, Lydia, asked as she walked into your shared dorm room. You looked up at her with an apologetic smile and said, “Sorry, I had to spray my plants with neem oil today, and it can smell kind of funny.” Lydia giggled, her watery blue eyes flashing.

“No worries, just open the window, I guess,” she replied, and you started toward the large bay window across from the door. From your bedroom, you could see most of the lake. It rippled in the wind, a glossy blue mirror that invited you to sit down on its banks and stare into it for hours.

“How was your day?” Lydia asked, dropping down onto her bed and looking up at you.

“It was fine,” you answered honestly. It had been about a week since your embarrassing trip to the Weathervane, and you’d desperately hoped that you-- and Tyler-- would both be able to forget about the small garden you’d managed to cultivate at your feet while you were there. “Same old, same old,” you finished, walking back to sit on your bed facing her.

You often smiled inwardly at the shocking difference between your sides of the room. While Lydia’s walls were covered in band posters and framed concert tickets, and her floor was littered with broken drum sticks, scraps of paper, and dirty laundry, your side was covered in plants. Succulents, palms, lilies, marigolds, vines-- you name it. You kept as many plants in your room as possible. Books, loose pieces of paper, and pens were also scattered across your floor and furniture. The room was cluttered, but it was a comforting kind of chaos. Lots to look at, lots to surround yourself with. The room you shared with Lydia felt like a big hug each time you walked in; it was a room full of both of your favorite things.

“Well, if you wanna change it up a bit, a bunch of us are headed to Jericho in a few minutes. You should come!”

You squinted your eyes in suspicion.

“Did one of the dorm parents put you up to this?” you asked, assuming this to be another one of Nevermore’s plans to get you out of your room. Lydia laughed once more.

“Ha! No, I just thought you’d wanna come hang. I know it’s not exactly your thing, but people enjoy hanging out with you, y/n.”

You hesitated for a moment. What if they wanted to go to the Weathervane? You weren’t sure you could face Tyler again after the trouble you’d caused him. What if he kicked you out for making such a mess and leaving him to clean it up? He’d think of you as a classic Nevermore kid: always the problem, never the solution.

“What would we do in Jericho?” you asked quietly. Lydia clapped her hands as though you’d already agreed to join.

“A few of us wanted to hang out at the park, and then we thought we could all meet back up for pizza before coming back to the dorms,” she explained with a proud smile on her face. You pondered the plan, then, going against your gut, said yes, you would come. Lydia hopped off her bed and jumped around excitedly, wooping loudly.

“C’mon, let’s get ready. Ugh, I’m so excited! You’re gonna have a great time, I promise, y/n.”

You could only hope.

_______________________________________________________________________

The group of Nevermore students in front of you chattered the entire walk into town, and you felt like you couldn’t keep up with the conversation. At times, you envied Lydia for her ability to mingle so easily. But you didn’t want to impose, and just shoving yourself into the conversation would be incredibly awkward, you were sure.

That was until Lydia pulled you into the conversation.

“Yeah, y/n just finished that book! Right, y/n? What did you think of The Hobbit?” Your stomach jumped into your throat at the sound of your name being called, but you smiled wide at Lydia.

“Uh, yeah, it was okay. Kinda slow, but a sort of comfortable read. It was cute,” you reported, and Lydia’s siren friend Mina fell into step next to you, telling you about the page she was currently reading.

The rest of the walk was nerve-wracking, but it was a nice change; you weren’t used to talking to anyone other than Lydia and a few others. Once you all reached the park, you, Lydia, and a few others waved goodbye to a group that wanted to check out some of the shops.

“You did great!” Lydia whispered into your ear. “See? You’re a natural. Nothing to worry about with any of them.”

You smiled back at her. “I know, I just-- thank you. For inviting me out. This is great,” you said quietly, hoping she knew you meant it.

The small group of you laid out a large blanket and watched the sun set over the trees just outside of Jericho, laughing and chatting the evening away.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Ugh, I’m starving!” One boy said. He had telekinetic abilities and had run out of gold fish to plop into his mouth without touching, or even looking, at them. You wished you had such mastery over your own power. With every laugh, the wildflowers around you grew a little taller, bloomed a little brighter. And though they were beautiful, it was embarrassing to know that your feelings betrayed you so easily all the time.

“Let’s go find the others and get dinner,” Mina suggested from next to you. The group agreed and gathered their things.

After about twenty minutes, everyone was grouped in front of a busy pizza shop. Inside smelled of garlic and oregano. You couldn’t wait to order.

Once everyone was seated and eating, it was easy to get lost in the commotion. Listening to everyone tell hilarious stories and whine about homework put you at ease-- why hadn’t you tried this before?

Then, as you got up to grab some napkins from the counter, you were suddenly reminded why:

“Uh, hey, y/n,”

You jumped and turned at the sound of your name, only to meet eyes with Tyler. Red-orange marigolds immediately began to spring up from inside your socks.

“Hi, Tyler,” you breathed, and then you quickly put your hands up, as if to surrender.

“Listen, I am so so so sorry I left such a mess at your shop. It was a mis--”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It was actually very impressive,” the brunet said gently with a smile on his face. He was looking at you calmly, but you felt pressured by his gaze and swept your eyes across the room. Moss spread over the stack of napkins you held, and though you hardly noticed, Tyler watched it grow in amusement.

“Those are your friends?” he asked, looking up at the other Nevermore students. You nodded.

“Well, sort of. They are my roommate’s friends. They invited me out for dinner,” you explained, your eyes still not meeting his.

“That’s cool of them. I’m here with my friends too,” Tyler said, motioning behind him to a few boys sitting quietly in a red booth. All you could do was smile, unsure of what to say.

“Y’know,” he began, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight a bit. You raised your eyebrows and tried to look at him how he was looking at you, but with the way he was looking at you, all you could manage was to train your eyes on his collar.

“I was sorta hoping you’d come back to the Weathervane, but it’s been a while. I hope my hot chocolate didn’t suck too bad,” he finished with a laugh, but your ears were practically ringing; he had been hoping you would come back to the Weathervane? You were in such shock that you didn’t even have the sense to stomp at the lobelias sprouting at your heels.

“Oh, I’m-- I’m so sorry, the hot chocolate was great, really great,” you spluttered. He grinned, and finally you plucked up the courage to look him in the eyes. They were soft, his dark brown irises captivating. 

“Great,” he said softly, “then maybe I can make it for you again soon.”

Soon?! The purply-blue lobelias shot up and wrapped around your shins tightly. He wanted you to come back soon! Tyler wanted yo--

“Hey, y/n, can you grab me a few of those napkins while you’re over there?” one redheaded girl called from your table across the room. The sudden distraction from your excitement-- and the stunted growth of the plants at your feet-- was a relief.

“Uh, sure thing,” you called back, and grabbed a few more napkins from the stack.

“I shouldn’t keep you. Have a good night, y/n,” Tyler said, the moment over. You hated yourself for getting so caught up in conversation with the boy, but the emotion ebbed when he smiled at you one more time.

“Um, yeah, thanks, Tyler,” you said slowly, shooting back an awkward smile before shuffling back over to your table. Setting down the napkins for everyone, you shifted your gaze to Lydia, who wiggled her eyebrows at you as if to say, Who was that???

You smiled sheepishly, knowing that you were in for quite the interrogation when you got back to the dorm.

[biografter]

rambling about biograft x slingshot

people wanted this post and i shall provide !!

long post ahead, be warned

already so the first thing i should mention is that. bioshot started off as a joke because one of my friends who was playing slingshot kept complaining about dying to biograft, one of my other friends went “omg biograft slingshot enemies to lovers”, and then another friend wrote damn good fanfiction about them so thats how it started and now its somehow one of my favorite ships.

naturally, its more of a dynamics thing. biograft is an…interesting character to experiment with in terms of Relationships, namely because of the fact that its a robot who struggles to express a thing and was built to murder things.

take that in contrast with slingshot who lives a very slice of lifey life. owns a quaint little cat cafe, roommates with a pair of siblings who get up to various hijinks, loves his shoes, spends his days baking and cooking, just a kind and zealous fella overall.

biograft also doesnt exactly. Know a lot. poor fella has no clue what money is. and there are some avenues to go down with that.

take this piece of dialogue for example:

this is a lie. biograft frequently asks questions about what things are and if its dialogue with vine staff is proof of anything, it does retain answers to those questions and puts them to use when it can. biograft Can be taught, it just either:

1: doesn’t think it should learn anything

2: doesnt believe it can be taught due to the idea that it was built for one purpose and that it must stick to that purpose or its useless.

3: doesnt want to be taught or dare to step outside of its strict boundaries of interacting primarily with blackrock.

so, whats a better way to break that any one of those mindsets down than deciding out of the blue that, yes, it wants to know more about foot wear? what if slingshot teaches it about other things like baking or how to perform basic tasks around the house? after all, biograft seems fine sleeping in a closet and 3 idiots in an apartment can make quite a mess, there’s nothing bad about having extra hands around.

what if that line of thought goes all the way down to becoming genuinely acquainted with each other? casually learning more about the other as time goes one, biograft stepping further and further away from its original programming to help slingshot and learn more about the world and slingshot slowly spending more and more time to help the robot out.

and yknow, what if they help each other learn a bit about other things along the way?

also its juuuuust a hint of projection + wish fulfillment and if youve followed me long enough you can probably tell who is the slingshot to my biograft cough cough help me

so yeah thats why im weird as fuck

[whenshesayshush]

Okay okay, I need to experience Musa being left to care for Terra’s plants while she’s gone, but she’s way in over her head so she has to call in Riven (aka smug plant nerd) to rescue the plants before they die an untimely death.

“You should teach,” Musa interjects in the middle of Riven’s TED Talk about the cell regeneration properties of finely ground Nyctagina thorns.

They’re both elbow-deep in soil, every inch of her bedroom floor covered in ceramic pots, half empty bags of potting mix and dead leaves, with them sitting in the center of it all. Aisha and Stella had fled the scene over an hour ago, like caring for Terra’s plant babies while she spent a few weeks of their summer break finally introducing her father and brother to her girlfriend — accompanied by Flora’s fullest moral support — hadn’t been a responsibility entrusted to all three of them.

It had seemed like such an innocent request. The suite was home to about seven times more plants than fairies, but according to the Earth Fairy herself, all they needed to continue thriving was mindful watering, a light pruning in case of overgrowth and some gentle verbal encouragement.

Maybe they shouldn’t have left the watering to a water fairy. Or the encouragement to… well, Stella.

Three weeks in and Musa had pretty much written her eulogy, to be read at the service after Terra strangled them all with vines upon her return. The emergency meeting Aisha had called at 5:40am was only slightly less unwelcome, and mostly consisted of them listing any Earth Fairy not home for the summer they could possibly ask for a favor. It wasn’t until after her third latte that Stella had pointed out that the top botany student from her year wasn’t a fairy, sporting a grin that was only rivaled by the one blossoming onto the face of the aforementioned plant nerd at Musa’s shameless begging shortly after.

“What?”

“Remember when you told me you’re not sure yet what life after Alfea will look like for you?”

“What I said was that I had expected to be expelled and selling drugs by now, but yes.”

Musa rolls her eyes at his wry self-deprecation and rubs her forearm across an itch above her eyebrow, unknowingly wiping a smear of dirt onto her forehead. She misinterprets Riven’s snort as a reaction to her eye roll.

“You could teach,” she continues, “You should teach.”

“I hate people,” he points out, lifting the terracotta bowl planter he’s just filled with three Hyptissas to inspect the result.

“But you love bossing people around,” she counters.

The gleam in his eyes tells her exactly where his mind goes after that statement. She flicks a spare stem cutting towards his face, but it falls short and lands in his lap.

“I’m serious, Riv. You’ve been on the Training Grounds for ten, sometimes twelve hour days, making pretty much all of us better fighters. Silva would hire you in a heartbeat if you told him you’re interested. And you’re clearly still very passionate about botany as well. I think you’d be really good at either, and you have a year left to prepare.”

They know that the odds of a quote unquote normal school year are slim to none. No one knows what the Blood Witches are brewing, but they can all tell they’re in the eye of the storm. It’s ominous, eerie, and yet they don’t have specific orders right now, which is how they can be sitting on the floor of her dorm repotting her roommate’s plant collection and talking about a post-Alfea future as if it’s a given.

“Thanks, Pixie,” he shoots her a subdued but genuine smile. “But I actually figured it out already.”

She stops what she’s doing, giving him her full attention. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m going where you go.”

It takes seven seconds before she remembers to breathe in, and when she finally does it’s a shaky thing. “Yeah?”

He shrugs one shoulder, “It’s hard to find a good fairy partner.”

Her eyes flick over the lines of his face. They haven’t really talked about it, their synchronism, their tether, the way gravity seems to be pulling them towards each other as much as to the ground, but they’re aware that they both feel it, even now, suddenly a lot closer to each other. His hand reaches up, wiping at the black smudge on her forehead with his thumb, huffing a laugh when that inevitably only makes it worse.

“Well,” he drawls, preparing to get up, “you’ve not come out of this battle unscathed, but I think we’ve managed to revive enough of them to avoid calling it a bloodba—”

She pushes up onto her knees and brushes her lips against his, gentle and hesitant, nearly over before it begins until he leans down and slots their mouths together in earnest. His hands move to cup either side of her neck, a thumb on each cheekbone, the grittiness of the soil on his palms scrubbing her skin. She runs her dirty hands up his light gray T-shirt, curling them into the fabric and pulling him closer, his body warm, steady and right against her own.

When Terra comes home four days later, hugs the three of them in thanks and asks them to plant-sit again over Christmas, Musa’s the only volunteer.

[ameliterature]

Neil and Todd Jealousy POV (Yes, there's more)

Charlie POV | Cameron POV

Neil was an only child and this obviously came with minor character flaws. Not only was he given all of the attention by his parent (even if it was the bad kind) Neil never really had to share anything.

Not that he didn't want to share. He just never had many opportunities to, with the lack of siblings and all. The closest he had to a sibling was Charlie. Unlike Neil, Charlie would share everything with him because he had so much to give. Was it the fact that Charlie's family was rich and that he has at least 3 of each item? Maybe, but Charlie was sure to share what he had with his best friend.

Another thing Neil "the Welton Golden boy" Perry had as a flaw was that he simultaneously wore his heart on his sleeve and yet always tried to hide his feelings. Case in point: when Charlie made a move on Todd.

Now, it's only been roughly 2 semesters since they've known Todd Anderson. Neil had the gracious chance to be his roommate, so in some way, it was like having another best friend aside from Charlie. But what he felt for Todd was vastly different from his friendship with Charlie. Something about the way Todd smiled at him, something about the way he makes sarcastic remarks, something about the way they shared glances between each other every now and then.

Neil was completely enthralled by Todd. Some might say to the point of being possessive. Neil would say protective because Todd was the kind of person who needed to be kept safe. Todd wasn't good at standing up for himself, he wasn't good at speaking the same way he wrote poems. Neil took it upon himself to be the one to make Todd feel the included. He had to be included, he had to be where Neil was.

Thankfully the whole Dead Poet Society thing worked out well, Neil was surprised how well Todd was integrated into the group. They even spent Christmas break as a group with Todd. Things were going great between him and Todd, Neil couldn't ask for more than to share his experiences with Todd.

But one night, a regular ole Study group session, something caught Neil's eyes. Todd was helping Knox out with some love poem, obviously meant for Chris, and he could hear the contents of the poem.

"Hymns from above casted when you're near

Heaven's light shine atop a golden-haired angel

My heart's full of whims and vivid dreams

but in your presence they're obligations I hold close

Be mine and I'll keep your heart guarded

Because mine is with yours, unthwarted."

Neil hears Todd recite their draft poem, hearing it as if it were meant for him to hear. His own golden-haired angel was biting the end of his pencil as Knox was scribbling the rest of the poem. Neil catches himself staring just before Todd looks up at him so he brings his attention back to the trigonometry problem he was answering with Cameron.

He couldn't concentrate on sine, cosine, and tangents at the moment, not when Todd's hand is in his peripheral view; all perfect with it's blemishes and tapping to an imaginary beat. Every so often, he'd steal a glance at Todd's eyes, darting back and forth from his paper to Knox's. He'd be jealous of any pupil Todd would eventually have if he became an English teacher. To be consulted with his sweet voice, to be seated by him as he explains anything, to be taught how to express feelings he wasn't sure how to jot down.

Oh have Todd's untampered attention.

"Hey Todd," Charlie's voice resonates across their small table. Neil accidentally shot his eyes to his friend's direction without skipping a beat. "Mind helping me out with a poem too?"

Since when did Charlie ever ask for help from Todd? Not that he wasn't allowed to or anything, Todd was the right person for this task but-- Something about it wasn't sitting right with Neil.

What wasn't a surprise was Todd's hesitant acceptance. He watched as Todd moved over to Charlie's right hand side and Neil felt his back become warm. It wasn't just his back, his guts turned into an unrested sea, and his eyebrows twitched, trying to avoid a scowl.

"What do you wanna write about?"

"I wanna write about Love." Neil saw Charlie lean forward to look Todd deep into his eyes; for a moment, he thought he saw Todd blush. Neil didn't like Todd showing that expression to someone else, or at least someone like Charlie.

"S-So... We'll use cosine to get X--" Cameron muttered, snapping Neil back to his assignment. He looked at the blurred numbers and symbols, trying to remember what the other problem was.

"Right, cosine-"

Just before dinner, Neil catches up with Todd to walk with him to the dining hall.

"So," Neil started, not exactly sure where to lead the conversation to. "I guess it's spaghetti and meatballs again, huh?"

Todd pushed out a chuckle in response. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Neil had Todd to himself for a tiny moment, for a stupid one-liner too, but it felt like he was in Cloud nine. Todd's calm expression was all he could ask for, paired with his blue eyes looking back at him.

When they reached their table, they assumed their usual spots, Neil being on the left side of the table and Todd on the other. However, Charlie decided to change up the seating arrangement and sat beside Todd instead of him.

There's that funny feeling again. Neil's stomach was nothing but a pit that resembled a deep well without a bucket, nothing to retrieve and remove the sludge that was forming in it. He hated how Todd was so responsive to Charlie's words, how Charlie was so capable of making Todd blush, he hated the sight of Todd rubbing elbows with Charlie as they ate. Neil wasn't sure why he was feeling this way, why he even thought something innocent between Charlie and Todd could make him so agitated. It could all be his imagination.

When Todd left for the bathroom, Neil decided to interrogate his best friend.

"Hey Charlie, why the sudden change of seating arrangement? Thought I was your cute best friend." He tried to sound like his usual self.

"Well, I'm trying to get closer to Todd."

"W-what? Why?" Neil felt his voice crack, much like his confidence.

"I dunno, he's pretty cute. Don't you agree?"

"I--" Neil felt his whole body stiffen, his hand tightened it's pressure on his spoon like a clamp.

"I'm thinking of asking him out soon. No one else seems interested." Neil saw it, he saw Charlie smirk. Neil's emotions became unreasonably irrational, they became unhinged and even if he tried to hide it, they were all bubbling to the surface. Charlie had everything already, he and Neil shared everything before this, but for some reason, Neil couldn't share Todd with someone like Charlie.

"Oh hi, Todd! Welcome back" Neil glares at Charlie while he greets Todd.

"What did I miss?" Todd asks innocently, still taking his seat beside Charlie.

As Charlie began his sentence, Neil cuts him off. "Nothing-" Todd shifts his eyes to share eye contact with Neil. "By the way, we should head back to our room, I need help with my poems." Neil's last attempt of gaining the upper hand on Charlie failed when Charlie brought up his and Todd's prior arrangement.

Neil didn't get it. What did Charlie have that he didn't? Or better yet, what does Charlie not possess yet that he would try to make the moves on Todd?? Neil hated this feeling- this vicious vine-like feeling trapping him. Was it... Jealousy?

Neil's never had much of a reason to be jealous about someone before. He's only been jealous of people who were freer than him-- people like Charlie. Was he jealous of Charlie in that regard? That he could proudly express what he felt for Todd and Neil couldn't? He guessed that was the difference. Charlie did have everything; down to the personality that could make Todd fall for him.

Neil was in Meeks' dorm room, resigning himself in defeat like a pathetic loser he thought he was.

All Neil could do was blankly stare into the shine of the wires that coiled around parts of their machine. A brief knock on their door broke his trance- It was Cameron.

“Do you guys mind if I hang out here? I’m just gonna do my reviewers for a bit.”

“Sure, no problem.” Meeks nods, still measuring out some amount of wires.

“Wait, how come you’re not studying in your room?” Neil questioned,

Cameron took a moment to respond. “Charlie… he wanted to focus on his homework with Todd… Alone.”

This was the last straw for Neil, the final push that made him stand up for once. He couldn't bury his jealousy anymore, he had to confront Charlie.

He left his friends to march his way to Charlie's room. He wasted no time when asking Charlie about his motives.

"Well hello, Perry! What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Quit it-" Neil cuts him off. "Are you serious about Todd?"

"... What?"

"I- I'm asking if you're really interested in Todd?"

Maybe this was all a trick, maybe Neil was just being jealous, maybe Charlie was playing a cruel joke on Neil and he had to shake it out of him.

"Yes." Charlie's expression was ripe with confidence.

With that, Neil felt his world shatter. What was he doing? Was he gonna fight his friend over his feelings for Todd? Was he gonna deny Todd of someone as fun and as romantic as Charlie? Charlie's given so much to Neil and the way he was acting was nothing short of being selfish.

If Charlie really liked Todd, then Todd would be lucky. If Todd would return those feelings, Charlie would be the luckiest man to ever live.

Neil had nothing to offer to Todd that Charlie couldn't top. Neil felt his bitter feelings turn into catharsis, accepting that Todd's better off sharing his moments with Charlie than him.

"T-then... Please take care of him, okay?" Neil buckled his shoulders.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"If you ever hurt Todd-- You're a dead man, got it?" Neil's eyes were like daggers, piercing right at Charlie's own brown eyes.

"R-right..."

Neil figured he had to leave, he couldn't bear to see Todd and Charlie exchanging looks. But this of course wasn't the case. A knock echoed in the room.

When he opened the door, Todd was right there, his beautiful eyes staring up at Neil will a quizzical expression.

Neil assumed that Charlie would most likely profess his love to those eyes, and that knowledge broke Neil's heart.

"Sorry Todd, looks like I'm gonna have to move our study session for now. I think Neil needs your help more. Right, Neil?" Charlie spoke, catching Neil's bewildered expression.

"I'm sure he's got something more important than mine anyway."

Neil looks at Charlie and Todd, bouncing a confused face between them. He sees Charlie's wink before Todd guides Neil out of the room.

Todd sighs as he returns to his room with Neil, his sweaty hands in the midst of sticking to his papers.

How did he end up in this situation?

How could he explain the entire day?

It all started when he told Charlie about his crush on Neil in private. All he wanted was advice from the best friend of his crush and nothing more.

"Glad you came to me, Toddsie!" Charlie pats him on the back excitedly.

Todd didn't like how enthusiastic Charlie was being in this situation, though he was grateful Charlie immediately accepted him for coming out.

"I know exactly how to make him fall in love with you!"

"L-look Charlie, I'm not trying to get Neil to like me! I just-- I just wanted to know how to deal with all these feelings I'm having."

All these feelings- Todd's had these "feelings" ever since Neil shook his hand for the first time in the courtyard. He's never met someone as perfect as Neil. Yeah, he had Father Issues, impulsive actions, even the tendency to make weird noises (but he found those the cutest) and yet Neil made Todd's world move.

Neil's laughter, Neil's smile, the stolen glances he catches Neil casting his direction-- It was all Todd sought after in his recent days at Welton.

"Oh please, Todd, those 'feelings' are straight up love from what I hear. We just have to know if Neil feels the same way!"

"We don't even know if he's interested in men! Charlie- What am I supposed to do?" Todd buried his face into his hands.

"Don't worry, I'll find out a way to not only check if he swings that way, but I can guarantee I can get him to return your feelings."

"That-- That doesn't make any sense, Charlie." Todd wasn't able to question his friend any longer as they dashed into the study hall.

The Study group went on as usual, Todd assisting Knox with his poem for Chris, Meeks and Pitts building a contraption he was sure was the Radio Mark II, and Neil, Cameron and Charlie trying to answer some trigonometry homework.

What didn't help was Neil being directly in front of him. Todd could see Neil in his glasses, unabashedly handsome and very distracting. Todd would try his best to help Knox with his poem but Todd's eyes would linger onto Neil's perfectly "framed" face.

He then hears Charlie call him over. At first, Todd didn't think much of it, but he soon regrets ever telling Charlie of his crush on Neil.

The whole evening, Charlie tried to make Neil jealous without planning it out with Todd first. If Todd had at least known, he wouldn't have been trying picture Neil in Charlie's place as some sort of "method acting" to go along with this scheme. When dinner began, Charlie took Cameron's spot for 'maximum efficiency'. It didn't help when Charlie called him "cute" in front of Neil. Would Neil agree? Would Neil even describe a guy to be cute? Would Todd be able to enjoy his spaghetti and meatballs without Charlie's arm around him?

Todd decided that he should excuse himself to the bathroom for compose himself. (And to evade the plethora of compliments Charlie showered him with.)

When it came from Charlie, it felt like a joke, like a friendly description, really, than an actual compliment. Then Todd thinks if they came from Neil... then those words would make him swoon.

Would Neil even fall for this type of trick? Was it even right to trick Neil like this? Would Neil be even okay with the idea of Todd being in a relationship in with a man? He wasn't even sure if Neil would accept Todd's feelings, let alone feel jealous of Charlie.

As Todd approached their table, he's immediately greeted by Charlie.

"What did I miss?"

"Well Todd--" "Nothing." Neil cuts of Charlie with a serious tone.

Oh no... did Neil find out? Did Charlie rat him out already?

"By the way, we should head back to our room, I need help with my poems." Neil looks up at Todd with an expression that is both deadpan and attractive to him, Todd had no other choice but to accept.

"What? Todd, I thought you'd help me out?" Charlie pouts. "I did ask first." Todd didn't want to miss his opportunity to be with Neil, especially not when he looks at him like that. But Todd looks back at Charlie, raising his eyebrows as if to say "Just go along with it."

Todd was reluctant, of course, he didn't want to perpetuate fooling Neil in any way, but he wasn't sure if Neil had anything to return at all. They were always alone after all, nothing would be stripped away if he spent one evening in Charlie's room to make Neil jealous.

"Right, sorry, Neil. I'll go back to our room after I help out Charlie." Todd replied with a pained expression hidden behind his face.

That evening, when he approached Charlie's room, he hears Neil's voice muffling through. Todd wished had the will to listen in but he assumed it wouldn't be his business if it was said behind closed doors. He took another moment before knocking on Charlie's door.

Neil opens the door for Todd, their eyes meeting briefly, like a celestial occurrence that Todd took note of. Have they always been this brown?

"Hi Todd!" Charlie greets him, breaking him from Neil's gaze.

"Hey Charlie, Hi Neil."

He was expecting Charlie to pull another stunt to make Neil's brown eyes angry, but instead both his and Neil's eyes lifted in surprise when Charlie told him Neil needed his help more.

Did they come to some agreement?

And Todd could've sworn Charlie was winking at Neil... or was it at him?

All these questions didn't matter when they were alone in their room.

Their chests rattled like cages, their hearts ready to jump out at any moment.

Neil bit his lip as Todd took a seat by his desk.

"S-so Neil..." Todd muttered, "Can I ask you something? B-before I help you with your poem..."

"Oh- Yeah, sure."

"What do you think of... of men dating each other?"

Neil lets out a tiny cough. "W- Excuse me?"

"Do you think... it's ok? For two guys to like each other?"

Neil wasn't sure how to respond, was Todd telling him that he liked Charlie? Was Neil too late? Did he miss his chance to tell Todd what he really felt?

"I-- I guess it's alright," Neil answered, slumping his shoulders down in defeat. If he was gonna lose Todd to Charlie, he might as well be supportive. "But- you have to make sure it's the right person." Neil wasn't going down without a fight though.

Todd's face brightened with Neil's response. So 1 part of his query is answered; Neil is ok with the idea of men liking each other. Now it's the question of Neil's feelings for Todd.

"I-If someone, a guy, liked you, how would you feel?" Todd stood up, turning to face Neil. Both of them were by their desks, like two sturdy posts defending their base. Todd awaited Neil’s response with the anticipation akin to a war officer in a meeting room.

"I... would really only prefer it from one guy." Neil took a step forward, with the courage of a powerful Chesspiece during an endgame.

Todd took note of this, mimicking his step, this time walking a bit closer to Neil with his hands in his pockets. "Y-yeah? Who?"

Neil noted this feeling being similar to a spelling bee, like spelling out a complicated word letter by letter, taking a breath to make sure the next thing he was about to say was exactly what the world wanted him to say.

"You, Todd. It's always going to be you."

Todd looks up at Neil, who's now inches away from him from, fully realizing their slight height difference. "I'd say the same for you."

"I hope... I'm not... taking you away from Charlie-" Neil slowly brings his hand to sweep Todd’s hair aside to see his eyes better.

Todd snickers slightly, catching Neil by surprise. "Neil... You don't have to worry about Charlie. I don't have any feelings for him."

"But-" Neil looks concerned, feeling like he betrayed Charlie. "He... He likes you. Todd, I--"

"Is that what he told you? Neil... I hope you won't be angry when I tell you he's been pulling your leg."

Neil jerks his head backwards. "What?"

"I.. Just promise you won't be angry okay?" Todd had to come clean, he couldn’t handle Neil thinking badly of him if he never admitted Charlie's plan. Neil nods before Todd reveals Charlie’s idiotic scheme to get them together by means of tomfoolery.

Neil sighs with a smile, leaning forward to rest on Todd's shoulder. Todd was still getting used to the fact Neil's VERY close right now.

"Well, you guys did a pretty good job of making me extremely jealous." Neil laughs a bit. He was in relief that he didn't need to compete with Charlie.

"I'm... I'm really sorry, Neil. I told him I just wanted advice." Todd looks down with embarrassment.

Neil tilts Todd’s chin up with his hand, bringing his face up to look at him. "You're gonna have to make up for it, y'know?"

Todd’s face simmered under Neil's touch. "I know."

Todd learned that Neil was a Jealous type of guy, not the type to be possessive, but definitely the type to mope around rather than steal someone else's love interest.

Luckily for Neil, he already had Todd’s heart to begin with.

Neil wasn’t used to sharing, but he and Todd shared their first kiss that night. That's a compromise he was willing to do.

Bonus:

Knox, Meeks and Pitts POV:

4 of their friends (the roommates) getting paired up in one night made them:

Thanks again to @sweettodd for that one post that spawn all these POVs haha

Taglist: @anderperrytheplatypus @she-nuwanda @andersonsdeskset @sweetnessbythesea @maisietheweltoncow [tell me if u wanna be added/removed next time]

[banzaitaka]

Your Albedo art is so precious omg. Can I request something about Albedo walking in on his boyfriend just wearing Albedo’s clothes and doing a half-assed impression of him? When Albedo sees him he’s just like “That’s not how I act”

---

Heyho

Thank you sdfghdsfg

YEs, plS

Genshin Impact Masterlist

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!

Albedo x male! reader

Art is mine!

Albedo 2.0

Humming a soft melody, (Y/N) went outside, carrying a basket with him, on his way to take in the laundry he hung up the day before to dry. As soon as he set foot in the afternoon sun, he took a semi deep breath, enjoying the warmth, after having spent so much time in Dragonspine.

It had been an exhausting, yet fun, adventurous and informative couple of weeks in the cold area of Monstadt. Both (Y/N) and his boyfriend Albedo learned quite a lot on that trip.

But the (Y/HC)-haired was happy to be able to do basic chores again, being able to stand around in one spot without worrying he would freeze to death. The memory of the constant search for any type of heat source made him shiver.

//Glad that's finally over.//, he thought to himself with a soft chuckle, before he took the laundry from the clothes line and let it fall into the basket he brought.

(Y/N) paused when he reached Albedo's clothes. He always found the blonde looked so cute in them, and he had to admit: he always wanted to try them on himself.

The (Y/EC)-eyed glanced back at the house, "Albedo's still checking in on Timeus and Sucrose...So maybe I can...", he muttered to himself.

The urge was just too strong.

(Y/N) quickly put the rest of the clothing into the basket and speedwalked back to the house, making a beeline to the bedroom. He took out his boyfriend's clothes and laid them out on the bed.

"I'm sure he won't be mad if he found out about this, but I still hope he won't walk in on me."

Laughing to himself, he slipped out of his clothes, rather quickly. He didn't know how much time he had exactly, but the fact that Albedo took alchemy very seriously, and so takes his time to see what Timeus and Sucrose found out, was enough to make (Y/N) feel less nervous.

Stepping in the pant legs, putting on the top, throwing over the jacket, pulling the gloves over his hands, it made (Y/N) feel so excited. Kind of powerful.

With a wide grin, he examined himself in the body length mirror on the wall next to him. He giggled as he adjusted the clothes slightly.

"Oh my Barbatos...I love it."

(Y/N) struck a few poses, making a few silly faces while imagining he was actually Albedo, goofing around. The thought made him laugh out for a good minute before an idea hit him right in the face.

He tried so hard to compose himself, but it was so difficult for him.

"I am-", the (Y/HC)-haired cut himself off with a few giggles, "I am Albedo, Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius!", he exclaimed with an uncharacteristic voice as he pointed at himself in the mirror.

The idea of an out of character Albedo made everything even funnier to the male, so he continued with that in mind. Striking a few other poses he began to quote a few phrases that were living rent free in his mind.

"Look at this graaaph~"

"This is why mom doesn't fucking love you!"

"Oh my god, they were roommates!"

He was having way too much fun with this, he knew that. But he didn't want to stop just yet, but-

"I'm afraid this is not quite how I act, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) almost let out a shriek at the voice that came from behind him, just outside the view of the mirror. The (Y/HC)-haired's heart almost broke his rip cage by how hard and fast it beat.

He turned around to face the blonde, who was standing in the doorway, a surprisingly neutral expression on his face.

"Albaedo, baby! Welcome home!", (Y/N) tried to distract his boyfriend from what he just witnessed, but he just had to ask, "How long have you been home? I didn't hear you come in."

Albedo took a few steps forward as he looked (Y/N) up and down, before settling his gaze back to his boyfriend's (Y/EC) eyes, "I've been home for quite some time actually. I think it was when you started qouting these, what do you call it, vines?"

(Y/N)'s face was bright red by now, he covered it up with his gloved hands, letting out a little embarrassed noise.

"Hm? Why are you hiding your face, love? I am not mad or anything and there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Some couples share their clothes with eachother, no? Plus, it looks quite good on you.", the blonde male took another look at (Y/N)'s body and admired how well his clothes fit him. It made him blush a little himself, actually.

(Y/N) parted his fingers, so he could see through them, "Really?", he asked quietly. "Why, yes, of course.", Albedo replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was a mystery to the (Y/HC)-haired how his boyfriend could say stuff like that with a straight face, really. He asked himself, if Albedo had that poker face in his mind too.

Albedo continued to look at his lover, while the other removed his hands from his face, beginning to fiddle with his fingers, "Well, I'm glad you think so. They are very comfortable, I might steal them again.", he added the last part with a little nervous chuckle, making Albedo smile softly, "Feel free to do so. I might steal one of your hoodies as well.

(Y/N)'s little laugh was cut off when Albedo began to speak again, "But, love, why did you make me sound like that?"

[elsewhereuniversity]

I made a deal with the fey. The deal was that I could have any power I desired. Powerful, isn’t it? The fey I made the deal with is a particularly hungry one, and it’s a wonder that I got out of there alive. My part of the bargain, is I had to supply zem with bodies. Exactly 20 human bodies, no more, no less, no substitutes. What we did not specify, however, was whether the souls had to be connected to the body. So, being the way I am, I had to come up with a solution that would save both me, and the 20 people I had to kill.

Given my newfound powers, I’d gone back to the University, and for about a week I did nothing. Then, I disappeared again, until someone would notice my absence. My roommates noticed first, and when they came looking in the forest, I almost couldn’t take them. That would be cruel, would it not? Yet, I had to. Surely they would understand? They’d come to know me somewhat, this shouldn’t be so far off the mark they would think I’ve been taken. So I did, I took their bodies to a safe place. I had come up with a power that would let me take and hold their souls, which is what I did. I kept them in little jars until their new bodies were finished.

The new bodies were made of cherry wood and fabric and moss. Cherry wood makes such nice bones, and fabric is a much nicer skin texture, the moss is just the filling in the cake. Buttons for eyes, and flowers for hair. None of it would wilt or die, they could grow like humans. I made them look as realistic as possible with few exceptions, I wanted them to have a normal life after this. They had no blood, but I did give them organs, lungs, stomach, intestines, genitals, etc. Even a brain. The only difference is that none of their body was human.

My roommates were furious with me, and I apologised over and over and over again, but I could not give them their old bodies. Instead I could give them powers, which I think made up for the incident, but it was still quite awkward when I came back and had to explain to their teachers that yes, these were the same students. I gave them nerves, and emotions, and control over their bodies. It was hard and exhausting work, and I realised I had to do this 18 more times. What nights weren’t spent studying and doing homework for classes, were spent creating. No body was the same, each was unique and used different materials. Only my victims knew it was me.

After the 7th, I think the knights noticed the changes, noticed how often I left and brought back a slightly different person. Two of them came for me the next time I disappeared, I could tell they were young. They thought they could save everyone. I felt so awful, I gave them bodies wrought from iron and silver, silver for skin, iron for bones, twigs for hair, moss once more for else. I made them powerful, in thanks for the bodies they leave behind. 13 left.

Mud, grass, moss.

Vines, gold, moss.

Clay, yarn, moss.

Glass, wood, moss.

Button eyes and stitches, seams and tears and hair that doesn’t feel right.

Eight left.

I loved all my creations, I care for each person who tried to save me from a fate that was not my own. They mean the world to me. I hated the burden I’d wilfully taken, I feared for my life every time I saw that Being. Yet I did not need worry, for I would be alright, I was not forgiven nor forgotten, but I was alright.

The last was a senior boy. He came to me, a friend of a friend of a friend. He asked me for a new body, he said he hated his own. His voice was high, he looked close to tears. I asked him why, I got no response, I thought I could understand. I had given myself several new bodies throughout my time at Elsewhere, it’s why I asked for the power. I did what was asked of me, I would owe him nothing, he would owe me nothing, he would get a body he could love, I would get a body that would get me out of this deal. We worked together on it, I let him help me sculpt it. Clay for skin, hickory wood for bones, vines for organs, grass for veins and nerves, moss for hair this time, dark paint for colour, it was my best piece yet.

When it was finished I kissed his old body goodbye, as I had done for each before, as a final loving blessing to welcome them to their new body. Because I was thankful, thankful that they had lent me their bodies without their permission, and hopeful they would not hurt. He was more special, I cared for him. I never saw him after he hugged me with his new self, tears flowing as he left.

I live alone now, in a bustling city I dare not share the name of, in an apartment that fits just right. My rooms are covered in plants, I have a cat and she is wonderful, art adorns the walls and I’ve become somewhat of a safe haven for people like me. In almost every aspect of my identity there is someone I can relate to, and can help, and that’s what I do. I go around the sparse places, I wander alleys and skate-parks and libraries and parks at night, where I know they will be. I do not trick or manipulate anymore, they all come to me, and they all get a full explanation of what will happen. I still make, but I make differently. There is a very specific range of people I make for, they are unloved by most, they are loved by me. I think I would have been a good Knight on campus, had I gone the route, but the danger was frightening, I realise now that what I was doing was far worse. It does not feel good to dwell and worry of the past, and I know I will never get those bodies back, the people that I hurt. My clients, you could call them, do not need to worry about losing their body, or seeming unnatural in the world, thankfully. I am happy, and living.

I think I’ve become a bit of a legend on campus. They still call me The Body Thief.

x

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

3. Stalk me all you want, just bring refreshments.

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: some stalking lol

Word Count: 3.1k 

We’ve made it to Paris by the time the first stalker finds me.

The past week has been spent in England popping in and out of interviews and press conferences. For the most part, it’s been pretty quiet. Granted, each interview never fails to bring up BTS, one even going so far as to pull up a quiz to see how similar I am to Suga.

I got 62%.

Sebastian demanded to take it as well. He got 43%. I still can’t tell if he was relieved or upset. Either way, things have been a little strange between us ever since that morning when he woke me up post panic attack. I can’t tell if it’s just because we’ve both got a lot of things on our minds or the fact that we’re back in civilization now, but I find myself seeking out the company of friends through phone calls and facetimes more often.

Stacey has been working nonstop to deflate the situation as much as possible. Truly, I owe her everything. She’s quick to remind me just that as I make my way to my hotel room.

“You know, this is very different from any other case I’ve had before. This fanbase is hard to get around.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me from the other end of the phone. “You really have to stop referring to this as a case. It sounds like I’m some type of criminal.”

Sebastian passes me to go to his room while I fumble with my keycard. Stacey is in the middle of explaining the reasoning behind calling this a case when I finally open up the door and nearly drop the phone at the sight before me.

A girl sits on the edge of the bed, phone held up and hat low on her head. She stands up, walking over to me.

“Look who it is! Cara Richie!” For her surprised tone, I know she isn’t surprised at all. Stacey pauses on the phone as she picks up on the other voice. I remain frozen in the doorway, utterly confused. Did I get the wrong room?

Sebastian is the first one to react. “Keep your head down Car, and walk over here. Come into my room, I’ll get security.”

I do as he says, hesitating only a moment longer before turning my head down and heading down the hall. Stacey is demanding answers in my ear, but I can’t bring myself to answer her. Not as the girl is rushing out the door in an attempt to capture more footage.

“You think just because you’re a pretty face that Yoongi would be interested in you? He probably felt bad for your sorry excuse of a career and wanted to help. How do you feel about being a pity case?”

The words fling themselves at my back, but I focus on putting one step in front of the other. Sebastian is speaking quickly on the phone, motioning for me to walk faster.

“C’mon, c’mon…” He mutters under his breath, opening his door wide.

“I think you should know that this is live on Instagram. You look like a coward. Why would he like a coward like you?”

My feet refuse to move faster, my measly pace being the only thing I can manage. There’s a piece of me that really wants to turn around and give her a piece of my mind, but I know that’s the last move I should take. Not when she’s filming. Not when we’re just beginning promotions and my career is already barely hanging in there.

When I’m within arm’s reach, Sebastian grabs me and hauls me into the room. I just glimpse the dark clothing of security bursting out of the stairwell before Sebastian closes the door behind us.

“What was that?” Stacey demands to know. I watch as Sebastian scours the room, checking the bathroom and even under the covers for any unwanted visitors. Once he gives me a thumbs-up, I finally speak.

“I...I think that girl was stalking me.”

🌙

To say the least, Paris and I don’t get along well. Yes, the world-famous city of love. The irony of it all isn’t lost on me. I’m stuck in the city of love all the while trying my best to avoid crazed would-be lovers of some man I’ve only ever seen through a screen.

On the bright side, people who work for the tabloids are having a heyday. I haven’t managed to get my hands on any of the magazines they’re working for, but I do have a phone and said phone is in a constant state of buzzing and ringing.

One the down side I still have no clue how I’m supposed to make it through these promotions in one piece. A part of me hopes that BTS will step in and basically tell everyone to knock it off, but I have no way of knowing how their PR teams works. Either way, they seem to be very good at keeping things on their side very quiet while my side is barely holding the barricade.

We’re driving back from an interview when my phone rings yet again. Sebastian looks at me.

“You gonna answer that?”

Sighing, I yank my phone out of my pocket. No doubt it’s yet another nosy friend or reporter that got my number from a nosy friend.

“Oh!” I gasp. It’s an actual friend. “Bong-Cha!” I all but scream into the phone. It’s my crazy roommate from my senior year in college that convinced me to pursue another degree with her in Seoul.

“Wow, you actually sound happy to hear from me,” my friend teases.

“There’s a first time for everything. How are you?” It feels like it’s been years since we’ve last spoken.

Sebastian looks at me with a puzzled expression as I slip into Korean. I’ve never spoken it around him, but I’ve never had a reason to. In fact, it’s about time I got a call from my friend. I need to keep practicing.

“I’m...great.”

I furrow my brows as I study the Parisian streets we pass. “Are you sure about that?”

Bong-cha’s sigh carries through the phone. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just...remember when I told you before you left for the Congo that I had a really big gig coming up? Like, really big?”

The conversation we had less than a week before I left for the Congo comes back to my mind. Bong-cha and I originally went into the university to study acting. When we were both accepted to a prestigious school in Seoul she was elated and I was confused. I didn’t apply to the school. I didn’t even speak the language, why would I apply? Bong-cha took things into her own hands and filled out the application for me. It took a lot of puppy eyes and convincing, but eventually I realized that a fresh start on a new continent and even with a new language would be exactly what I needed.

The program took two years, but it only took Bong-cha six months to realize that she wanted to focus more on the music part of filming rather than the actual acting. The little punk switched programs, but we still lived together for the duration of the two years. Looking back, she made the right decision. She can weave and create a soundtrack that puts people under a spell. She even helped with the soundtrack for one of my very first indie flicks.

Thanks to her I had something of an advantage going into the world of cinema with both American and Korean acting experience. But the best part of it all was the building up a friendship that will last for decades.

“Yeah,” I come out of my walk down memory lane. Paris somehow makes me nostalgic. “What happened with that? How did it go?”

“Well, it went well...it wasn’t exactly for a movie, though.”

“What was it for, then?” I can sense the hesitation in her tone and urge her forward. “Are you releasing a mixtape or something?” We both chuckle at the notion.

“No, not that. Although I would take the world by storm if I decided to drop a mixtape. It would be pure genius.”

“Yeah, yeah. What was it for? Now you’ve made me curious.”

Another sigh. “I was working on a comeback trailer for BTS.”

My heart stutters for a moment. “You- you what?”

“I know, and I should have told you all of this-”

“Daebak!” I shout into the car, Sebastian jumping a little at my sudden exclamation. “That’s so cool, Bong-cha! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before!”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, it is amazing, isn’t it? They’re kind of going for this intense dystopian feel and somebody recommended me to them because they’d seen ‘True Lies’, isn’t that great? I still can’t believe it.”

Bong-cha deserves every ounce of credit that comes her way, I couldn’t be happier for her. Then I remember my current situation, and the questions I’m dying to ask her are all jumping for attention. I bite them down, reminding myself that this isn’t about me.

“I told you that the soundtrack for ‘True Lies’ was perfect, didn’t I? See, you should listen to me more often.”

A half-hearted chuckle from the other end of the phone. “I guess I should. But Cara, that’s not the only reason I called. I think I may have screwed something up.”

If my heart keeps stuttering I may die. Trying not to jump to any conclusions, I struggle to keep the apprehension out of my voice. “Ok...what happened?”

“Well...I worked a lot with all the boys, they’re very hands on in the whole process.”

“Ok.”

“I especially worked a lot with Suga because he’s very talented at producing music and all that, so he had a lot of say in the overall vibe and feel of the piece. Anyways, as you can imagine, we had to spend a lot of time together and we actually became pretty good friends...”

A yellow bike is being parked in a bike rack painted with red flowers and vines. It’s outside of the kind of cafe you only see in movies, and a young woman sits by the window with a book in hand. She’s lost in thought, no longer looking down at her book but instead watching the cars as they pass by. One hand rests idly around her drink which is still full. We make eye contact for a single second before I speed by, and I know that I’ll never see her again but I can’t help but wish I was her.

If I were her I could sit there calmly, not worried about much except for not spilling my drink on my novel. I would admire the yellow bike in the rack, and think up bike routes that I could enjoy. I would pack my book in the little basket between the handlebars and I would wait for a sunny day to go out and read.

Just my bike, book, and me.

Jumping a little as we pass over a speed bump I’m ripped from my alternate reality and drink in the words that Bong-cha speaks as delicately as possible.

“...we talked a lot, and eventually I started talking about my friends. You know, pretty normal, isn’t it?  Everyone talks about their best friends. I mentioned you, of course. Explained how we lived together for however long, like what, four years? Two in the states and two in Seoul? Anyways, I was going on about you because ‘Under Nine’ has been so huge and it’s like you finally had your big break.”

Coaxing my jaw to move from its stiff position, I form a sentence. “Bong-cha, just tell me.”

There’s a two second pause before she dives back in. “He’d seen the film, said that you seemed cool. And I just started thinking about it and I thought that you two would be so cute together. And he just seems...lonely. Is that weird? And you’re always so stressed with trying to find the next big project so I just talked you up but...I- I didn’t tell him to date you or anything, I swear! I just said that you two should be friends. That’s all, I swear.”

Somehow the spike in heart rate I was expecting never comes. Instead, I almost feel  more at ease. At least I’m starting to understand how this got started. It all seemed too disconnected before, like he just picked my name out of a hat and decided to have some fun with it.

“So...do you know why he said those things in the interview? Because that wasn’t exactly a call for friendship. At least, if that’s how he meant it, he failed. Big time. And now I’m paying the price.”

I can’t keep the bite out of my voice toward the end, and Sebastian doesn’t need to be fluent in the language to understand that tone.

‘You ok?’ he mouths. I nod and roll my neck in an attempt to relax. I don’t want Bong-cha to think that I’m mad at her. If anything, I’m flattered that she even thought to act as a sponsor for me to one of the most famous rappers in the world, however misguided her intentions.

“I know. I know, trust me, I talked to him about it.”

I wasn’t expecting that. They must be pretty good friends if Bong-cha feels comfortable calling him out on this. “You did?”

She chuckles. “I know, shocking. I just feel partially responsible for all of this. Then when I saw that video in your hotel room-”

“Wait, you saw that? I thought they were able to take that down in time.”

“Well, it was live when she was filming it. So she had to stop the filming but it was already out in the world. If it makes you feel any better, most people feel bad for you. You reacted really well in the video. Didn’t even say anything. Yoongi felt horrible when-”

“Hold up, hold up.” The words tumble from my mouth before she can continue. “You’re telling me that he actually saw that? And you talked to him about all of this? What is he saying?”

“I would tell you if you would quit interrupting me.”

“Sorry.” A hint of a smile tugs at my lips, the head strong Bong-cha I know so well reappearing.

“Anyways, as I was saying he felt horrible once he saw the video. Obviously we knew that it was probably a little crazy for you, especially with interviews and stuff. But I think even the guys were surprised to hear about you having stalkers and stuff.”

“The guys as in…”

“As in the guys. Jin and Jimin and-”

“Yeah. Yep. Got it.” I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry, so I settle for shock.

“I talked to Yoongi about it, though. They all feel horrible about it, really. I guess after I talked about you so much he got curious and started doing some research and trying to figure out who you were. You know, kind of like friend shopping.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Sure, when you’re that crazy famous it is. You have to make sure the person you want to befriend isn’t some psycho in disguise.”

I snort. “I am a psycho, though. I don’t even try to hide it.”

Bong-cha chuckles, in full agreement with me. “Trust me, I know. But I don’t know, maybe he thinks it’s endearing? I mean, look at his closest friends. Compared to the rest of the members, you’re pretty tame. They’re all nuts.”

Just from the way Bong-cha speaks about the band I can tell that she really loved spending her time working with them. It would appear they all became fast friends. I can’t say that surprises me; she’s always had a knack for making friends.

“Alright, if you say so.”

“Anyways, I guess the guys were just giving him a hard time because he was always watching your stuff. Everyone took it too far in that interview. I mean, honestly speaking, I think they want him to get a girlfriend as badly as I do, but,” she keeps chattering away as she senses my impending interruption, “they realize that this wasn’t the best way to go about everything. Trust me when I say that their agency practically skinned them alive when the interview went viral.”

I suppose it makes sense to a certain point, but there’s still one outlier in all this information. If this is purely just an innocent mistake, then why on earth would Yoongi fan the flame by inviting us to the film festival in Seoul? And publicly RSVP?

I ask Bong-cha as much, the skepticism thick in my voice. “I just don’t get it, I guess.”

Bong-cha curses on the other side, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes. “That is precisely why all of the boys have basically been in time out for the past couple of weeks. Remember when I said that the other boys want Yoongi to get moving as much as I do?”

“Yeah? I don’t follow…”

Bong-cha laughs at the situation, the sound of it only worrying me more. “That wasn’t Yoongi that invited you guys and RSVPd.”

I nearly choke at the new information. The anger I feel is red-hot. Somebody really is trying to sabotage my career, aren’t they? “W-who? Who would do that? Why haven’t they said anything about that? Clearly someone is trying to ruin my career, and possibly his as well. Wouldn’t BigHit do someth-”

“Hey! Listen to me you psycho!” Bong-cha yells through the phone, barely able to get me to shut up for more than two seconds. “Are you even listening to me at all? I just said that the others are pushing for you and Yoongi, too. Nobody is trying to destroy your career.” She pauses, and for once I don’t interrupt her. Instead I wait with bated breath for her to continue. “You should have seen Yoongi’s face when Jin told him what he did.”

Jin? Kim Seokjin? What did he do?

“What do you mean? What did Jin do?”

A sigh of long-suffering. “He’s the one that invited you guys. And made sure Yoongi would have to be there to face you by publicly RSVPing him. Got it?”

“Why would he do that?” I ask myself the question more than anything. Bong-cha still responds though, the smirk evident in her tone.

“You’ll just have to ask him in person when you get here, won’t you? Make sure you save me a seat. I want to be there for this.”

Previous - Next

Taglist is open!

taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @oceandeep​

[small-teacup]

Okay, Inventing Privileges Revoked

Requested by: @jwillowwolf

Notes: The magical stuff in this fic is based off of The Ancient Magus Bride (anime and manga). If you've read/seen it, I put a lil reference to it somewhere in here >:)

POV: 3rd person

Ships: Analogical, Royality, and Demus/Dukeceit/Receit

CW: Swearing, yelling, eating, sympathetic Remus and Janus, fire, mention of failing classes, vines, being watched

Lemme know if I missed any :D

Word Count: 3041

“Twist this...and then you-” The inventor muttered to himself as he made a few adjustments and tweaks on his latest machine. It was supposed to harness the power of magic from other worlds, so that it could benefit this world. He knows they exist...he just knows. A few sparks flew at him as a knob was turned. “Don’t you dare start acting up on me. I spent a year and a half on you, I’m not letting you give up on me now,” he scolded the piece of machinery. He had an amusing habit of talking to objects. As if the invention had heard him, little gears started turning even though he hadn’t meant it for it to be turned on. Not yet. But it seemed like it was doing it out of spite. An unpleasant noise erupted from it before he quickly turned the knob back to its original position. “That’s enough out of yo-”

“LOGAN!! DINNER’S READY!!”

“Soooo..” Patton started, taking a bite out of a piece of garlic bread. “Any progress on your cool lil’ device you got in your room?” He asked, looking over at his roommate.

The voice scared Logan out of his wits, flinching as he pushed up his glasses. “I’M COMING!” He called back, standing up from his seat and tiredly walking out of his bedroom to the kitchen. He didn’t seem to realize the pink-ish glow emitting from the machine behind him.

________________

“It’s not...exactly doing what I want it to do. But that’s alright, I can still fix it,” Logan replied, scooping some spaghetti into his mouth.

“Ooohh..okay! Virgil, how were your classes today?”

The boy in question sat across from Patton, hunched over and eating slowly with one hand, the other one shoved in his jacket pocket. “Failed ‘nother exam. I’m thinkin’ of giving up at this point…” He mumbled, poking a meatball.

“Noooo! Don’t say that! You still got a lot to look forward to!”

“I agree with Patton,” Logan said, looking over at Virgil. “You’re trying your best and that’s what matters. It’s just one mistake, it’s not that big of a deal. You’ll be ok.”

“But what if I won’t be? Ughh..my grades are going down so so low… Sometimes I just don’t wanna be here. Not away from you guys, of course, but..just- somewhere where I don’t have to stress myself every night and break down almost once every week.”

“Like Logie said, you’ll be okay! Here, how about this, you take a well-deserved break and me or Logan can do your work for you?”

“That wouldn’t work because he wouldn’t be learning the things he needs to in order to pass. The least we can do right now is try to keep his mind off of work for a short time. But he has to get back to doing his assignments after.”

“Um..,” Virgil muttered quietly, as not to interrupt either of the boys. “I guess my little ‘break’ starts now…? If so, then uh..can I see Logan’s machine thing?”

Logan and Patton looked at each other, the more optimistic of the two grinning. “Yeah! I’d like to see it too!”

The inventor sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Fine, but do not touch it.”

His roommates cheered as a small smile made its way onto Logan’s face.

After dinner, they were grouped in Logan’s room, staring at the little device.

________________

“So...how does it work?” Virgil asked, tilting his head slightly. Logan gently took the device and held it in his hands so the others could see. “Well, you’re supposed to turn this knob,” he explained, turning said knob. The machine sputtered to life, however it seemed...off. “But it doesn’t seem to be working correctly at the moment.”

Patton stared at the tiny device in amazement, Virgil doing the same until he got a notification from his phone. He pulled it out, pure frustration showing on his face.

“UGHHH- I don’t even wanna be IN THIS WORLD anymore!” He groaned, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Suddenly, child-like laughter filled the air.

“Wh...What was that?” Patton asked, fearful.

“I’m..not sure,” Logan responded, looking around. Vines grew from the ground and latched to their legs as three small portals appeared beneath them. They were pulled down into those portals before they could even scream.

________________

Logan woke up to the sight of trees, the moonlight shining through them, and the feeling of dirt beneath him. He shot up and looked around frantically before his eyes landed upon two figures curled up next to one of the trees. On closer examination, he realized those were his roommates. Patton seemed to have calmed Virgil down from a panic attack.

“Are you two okay…?” He asked, going over and sitting with them. At the sound of Logan’s voice, Virgil suddenly latched onto him. “God- I thought you died! I’m so sorry..This is my fault, I’m so so sorry..,” the boy muttered, his grip tightening.

“I...believe it’s my fault. It was my invention, I shouldn’t have shown it to you two when it wasn’t even working properly.”

“Guys-” Patton said, trying to warn them.

“No but if I hadn’t got so angry-”

“I don’t think it had to do with your anger.”

“Guys-”

“But what if it did? We weren’t pulled in until I got that stupid notif.”

“There’s nothing in the device that would make it respond to human emotions-”

“GUYS!”

“WHAT?!” The two shouted in unison, seeing Patton looking up.

“There’s people..w-watching..,” he whispered.

Virgil and Logan looked up as well. Two pairs of eyes stared back at them, one pair green and the other pair red. Shadows hid their bodies from view, if they even had bodies. The two entities laughed, sounding exactly like the laugh they’d heard before being sucked into this alternate world. Patton scooted over to his roommates hurriedly and stayed very close to them. The entities above seemed to look at each other before the one with green eyes suddenly disappeared with a gust of wind. Red eyes looked back down at them, suddenly dropping from the tree and landing with a flourish. In the light, it seemed that the entity was a boy, about the same age as the three humans in front of him. Little flames burned from the tips of his hair that he didn’t seem bothered with. Speaking of, his hair was tied in a ponytail that hung over his shoulder. He wore a white shirt with gold lining at the top, its sleeves going down to his elbows and hanging loosely. A red sash was tied around his waist. Black cloth was tucked into it from the back, making it sway behind him whenever he moved. He wore simple brown shorts that seemed to have been torn from what used to be a complete pair of trousers. Gold ribbons wrapped his legs in a criss-cross pattern, tying into knots at his ankles. His ears were pointed, making him look like an elf. His eyes always seemed to have a fire burning in them.

He grinned at the terrified humans and held his hand out to them, but it seemed more directed at Patton.

“Greetings, humans! You may call me Princey. You’re not supposed to be here!” He sang.

Patton was the first to speak up, albeit in a shaky tone, “N-Nice to meet you, Princey. I’m P-”

“Ah ah ah! Nicknames only. Real names have power in our world, and you wouldn’t want to fall prey to anything...unpleasant, now would you?” The fae interrupted. He narrowed his eyes, but his grin stayed.

“And how’re we supposed to know that you’re not one of the ‘unpleasant’ kind?” Virgil asked harshly, suspicious of this seemingly magical stranger.

The faerie’s eye twitched as he pulled back his hand, “You certainly seem to be one of them, so you tell me.”

“You did not-”

“If the shoe fits, rusty human.”

“Alright alright, umm...maybe we shouldn’t fight?” Patton suggested, looking between the two.

“Yes, we don’t need to cause more problems to add to the ones we already have,” Logan agreed, pulling Virgil closer. The smaller boy huffed and muttered an “okay.”

“So we’re all in agreement that we’d rather not fight right now! Perfect! Now, let’s start this over. What would each of you like to be called?”

“Can I be called Pat..? Is part of our names allowed?”

“I...suppose. You have a very sweet-sounding nickname. And you two?” He gestured to Logan and Virgil.

The inventor sighed, “Call me L, please.”

“Alright, very simple,” Princey commented, looking over at the last boy to share his nickname. “..You know, I might just call you Rusty.”

“Don’t call me that-”

“Too late, Rusty.”

“I have a question,” Logan stated, looking up at the fae.

“Yeeeesss?”

“Why did you call him a ‘rusty human’?”

“Ah! It’s something only Neighbors, such as I, would get. Each human that comes through the forest has a distinct smell. For example, Pat smells like roses.” He sighed dreamily. “My favorite flower… As for Rusty over there, he smells like...well- rust. It’s utterly disgusting to us.”

“..Is ‘Neighbors’ the name of your species?”

“Sort of…? Neighbors is what you call faeries, however that term is dull to some. If we’re talking about the subspecies of fae, I’m a fire sprite.”

Virgil snickered, covering his mouth to hide his smile.

“What’s so funny about that? I’ll have you know that you should respect us magical beings, lest you be cursed or spirited away!”

“I’m gonna call you Soda,” The boy replied behind his hand.

“Wha-”

“Ooooh! Because he’s a sprite!” Patton said, pointing finger guns at Virgil. “Ayyyyyy!”

“Ayyyyyyy.” The other pointed finger guns right back at him.

Princey and Logan just sighed, one being confused and the other used to his roommates' antics.

The fae clapped his hands. “Okay okay. To get you all out of potential danger, you’re going to have to come with me. I’ll take you to my abode. Be warned, my brother and his boyfriend live there as well.” He shot a look at Virgil, “I’m not going to kill any of you. It wouldn’t benefit anyone.”

They looked at each other and seemed to be in silent agreement as they stood. Princey started guiding them through the trees and the bushes, careful to avoid anything that could kill these new humans.

“So...Why are you helping us? Not that I don’t appreciate it, I just...wanna know, y’know?” Patton asked as they walked.

“...It’s lonely here. The other fae are very..gossipy. You do something dumb and suddenly it spreads around like wildfire. So I usually stay away from fae that I don’t already know, as I wouldn’t want any...betrayals or damages to my pride. I trust that you humans are not the same...?”

“I don’t think so.. Right?” The boy looked over at his two friends, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with one another. He sighed and gave up on the question, feeling a bit left out. Princey seemed to notice, gesturing for Patton to walk with him at the front, to which the boy hesitantly but happily did.

After a bit of walking, they came across a little cottage in a clearing. Smoke billowed out of the chimney as they approached it.

“Well,” the fire sprite sighed. “Here we are! It’s not much...but it works.”

“...I thought it’d look more like a giant mushroom or something,” Virgil commented, a bit suspicious about how normal the house looked.

“Why would we live in a fucking mushroom? A MUSHROOM THAT SIZE DOESN’T EVEN EXIST- Where are you getting these ideas?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, faerie boy?” The emo replied, waiting for Princey to open the door or something. Was there even a lock on the front door?

As if on cue, the door swung open to reveal another faerie, similar to Princey. This one, however, wore reversed colors. A black shirt with silver lining and a green sash instead of a red one. He had a silver streak in his hair, dangling over his eyes. His hair was braided, draped over his shoulder as well. The most peculiar thing, though, was the fake mustache he wore and the green wings protruding from his back, speckled with black.

“Wretched brother! And...other people!” The new faerie greeted, moving aside so they could get in.

“Greetings to you too...Duke,” Princey muttered, leading the small group inside.

“That’s his name? Duke? What, is he a dog?” Virgil asked, semi-sarcastically.

“Based on his behavior, he might as well be,” The fire sprite grumbled, flopping on a nearby chair and sighing. “And no, that’s not his name. Remember what I said about those, Rusty?”

“Yeah yeah, they ‘hold power’ or whatever. But why do you guys need to disguise your names when you’re the one who’s able to use them against us? You’re not at risk.”

“Actually, we are. I’d also rather you not call my beloved a dog,” A new voice said, the source of it being a figure that had just walked in from the kitchen. The humans looked at him, a bit startled. It didn’t seem like this one was the same as the brothers. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat with a yellow ribbon tied around it. The shadows created by the hat covered one half of his face. The half that was visible seemed normal. He had dark brown eyes that made him seem wise and intimidating. A black and gold capelet laid on his shoulders, linked together with a gold chain. He wore yellow lace gloves with black ribbons wrapped around his wrist. He was even wearing thigh-high stiletto boots.

“mY BOYFRIEND!!” Duke screeched as he half-ran and half-flew to the new faerie. He latched onto him in a tight hug, his wings flapping slightly in happiness.

“Could I inquire what nickname you,” Logan started, gesturing to the mysterious fae, “would like to go by? And what type of faeries are you two?”

“Hm...Call me Deceit, if you will. Duke’s an Ariel and I’m a Leannan Sidhe.”

“Ariel?? Like the mermaid??” Patton wondered aloud, sitting next to Princey on another chair. It was obvious the two wanted to be close to each other with the way they were glancing at each other.

“I...don’t know what a ‘mermaid’ is, but I’m assuming that has nothing to do with the faerie world, so no. An Ariel is a type of sprite, a wind denizen, or in simpler terms, they can control the wind. They’re known to be mischievous, despite their job of purification,” Deceit explained, fondly playing with his boyfriend’s hair.

“And a Leannan Sidhe…?” Logan asked, sitting on the couch with a notebook and pen in hand. Where did he even get that…

“A subspecies of a fae you humans would refer to as a ‘vampire’. Young men let us feed on their blood in exchange for talent. It could also be exchanged for...other things.”

“Oh. Is the amount of blood a lot…? Because it would kill the human if you took too much.”

“It’s just enough that the human wouldn’t die on the spot. However, those we feed on don’t usually lead very long lives. Enjoy what you have and die or yearn for more and die greedy.”

“Greedy?” Virgil repeated, sitting next to Logan and clasping his hands together. If he was being honest, he actually considered offering his blood to the vampire, despite how shady that’d be.

“What you sought for certainly didn't come from you, did it?”

“N..No…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Awkward silence fell over the room. Duke fluttered his wings happily as he cuddled closer to Deceit. It created a little gust of wind that unfortunately threatened the life of Princey’s flames, to the fire sprite’s annoyance.

“Do any of you know why we’re here..?” Patton asked quietly, shuffling a bit closer to the fae next to him.

“I do! I do!!” The wind denizen chirped, speeding away from his boyfriend and stopping in front of the human. “So when the nerd over there made the weird machine, we were able to find connections to your world! But we didn’t know what to do with it, so we left it alone. But theeeeennnn, Rusty said a few magic words, and some of the faeries in our world took advantage of it, so that’s why you guys are here!”

“What magic words???” Virgil called from the other side of the room.

Duke cleared his throat and did a half-hearted attempt at imitating Virgil, “i dON’T evEn WAnnA be iN thiS woRlD ANyMOREEeEe blAHhhhh.”

“Okay, I said everything BUT that last part.”

“I know, it’s just that you’re overly angsty.”

“IT’S PART OF MY AESTHETIC-”

“Let’s calm down for a moment,” Patton said softly, giving a tiny and nervous smile. “What part of that was magical?”

“All of it! When humans say something, whether they mean it or not, some specific types of fae listen closely so they can cause maaaajor terror and disorder. Like this one time, some girl was angry at her lil’ brother so she went, ‘I wish you were never my brotherrrr!’ or something dramatic like that, and then the next day, the boy was gone! And nooooobody remembered him except her. She got really scared, but lucky for her, a couple of mages came by and helped her.”

“...Mages?”

“Yeah! They’re either like...human-like faes or sleigh-beggies.”

“Sleigh-beggies??? I honestly don’t think that’s the actual name-”

“Doesn’t matter what you think! That’s what it’s called. Sleigh-beggies are just humans who’ve been gifted with the sight to see otherworldly things. It may sound cool, but trust me, you don’t wanna know how many things are crawling over all of you right now.”

At that, both Patton and Virgil screeched, trying to get rid of the creatures they couldn’t even see. Logan sighed and shook his head.

“How do we get back?” He asked, looking over at Deceit as it seemed like he was the best person to ask.

“Well…” The fae started.

“You’re just going to have to stay and find out.”

[End]

(This post wasn't proofread-)

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Opposites Attract 

Warren Worthington III x Female Reader

Request 1:  Brooooo i’ve got a boyfriend was amazing! like you don’t understand how much i loved it. if you ever have time can you do like a continuation piece of fluff with warren and the reader or like when they met and became a couple? like same mutant and stuff

Request 2:  Aww I loved the one shot with mother nature and Warren! I loved how her eyes turned pink, when she saw Warren! I'd like to know more about them. Could you give us a little fluffy glimpse into their relationship? Thank you, my dear! You're amazing! 💕

I also may make a little fluffy fic about these two later! (also i know I’ve used this gif before, oh well)

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of sex

Word Count: 7.9k

 Ever since she was little, (Y/N) had a green thumb. Her parents had her play outside, help them do yard work, and she had her own collection of house plants from a young age. 

It wasn’t until she started getting older that things started to change. Maybe be more than just a “green thumb.”

Leaves grew in her hair and vines wrapped around her legs. Her eyes started changing color based on her mood. She looked like a woodland creature. 

-

With high hopes and her bags packed, she went to Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. To find someone like her, or just find a place to fit in. 

Her eyes were green and she was ready to meet new people. 

-

(Y/N) fit in great. Her roommate could control the weather, which made their room a true plant haven, and she had a whole group of friends— and if you asked, no one could find anything bad to say about her. 

“She’s so sweet! She gave me some daisies when I was having a bad day.” 

“(Y/N) helped me study for my math test. I got a 92 because of her.”

“(Y/N) threw a surprise party for my birthday. It was wonderful!” 

Everyone liked her, and she liked everyone. Her eyes were almost always green and yellow— meaning she was happy and excited. 

But one day they weren’t green and yellow. 

-

“Alright, everyone. Your partner for the project is listed on the board. You can get to work.” (Y/N) looked over the list eagerly, excited for the inevitable mountain of work she’d be splitting with someone— it would be a good bonding experience. 

Her eyes scanned the list until she spotted her name. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) & Warren Worthington. 

(Y/N) glanced at him. Warren was pulling books out of his bag, earbuds in. 

I don’t… I don’t know Warren that well. This will be a great opportunity for me. We have lots of mutual friends, so this should be easy. 

“Hi.” 

Warren paused his music and pulled out an earbud, “Hey.” 

“We’re partners.”

“Right, right. Sit down.” She pulled up a chair and set her notebook on the desk. “So I was thinking since we have to talk about a political issue, we could do something that has lots of information available. Women’s rights, climate change, issues with the 1%, the problem with the rising trend of plant-based diets, mutant rights…” Warren didn’t say anything. He just listened. “We don’t have to do anything I listed, they’re just suggestions.” 

“Okay… We could do something on mutant rights. That’s probably the easiest since we’re mutants.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah, that works with me.” She wrote down their paper topic and the due date in her notebook. “I’m not sure if we’ll get enough time in class to work this week so I’ll give you my number.” Warren got on his phone and opened a new contact.

He held it out to you, “Here, just put it in.” 

You took it from his hands and typed in your name and number. You handed the phone back to him and moments later you got a text from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: This is Warren. 

(Y/N): Hi! This is (Y/N)

He didn’t text back. “Okay, so I’m gonna make a google doc and share it with you.” Warren nodded. 

(Y/N) had a small, lopsided smile on her face. “You don’t talk much do you?”

“I talk.” 

“Yeah, but— I meant… Never mind.”

Warren raised his eyebrows. He knew exactly what she meant. But people weren’t supposed to like him. Warren was evil and scary. Sure, not as much as he used to be, but the school’s Disney princess didn’t need an interest in him. Jubilee and Jean would just yell at him for it, plus a good 30% of the school shipped her with Kurt, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that. 

As the bell rang, dismissing everyone from their class, Warren noticed (Y/N)’s eyes were slightly different as she left his desk. They had a slight bit of pink to them. 

What does pink mean? 

-

“I think he hates me.” (Y/N) announced as she face-planted onto Jubilee’s bed, letting vines grow and cover her like a blanket. 

“Who?” Jubilee asked. 

“Warren! We’re partners for the history paper thing and he, I dunno— he didn’t seem to want to be my partner.” 

Jubilee looked at her sulking friend, “That’s it?”

“I don’t get it! We’re in the same friend group, we probably have similar interests, and I’ve never been rude to him.” 

“He’s probably just tired. School is stressful, and I’m sure he just doesn’t want more work on top of everything he already has to do. I’m sure you have nothing to do with it.”

(Y/N) groaned into the pillow, “I can’t get a bad grade, and if he doesn’t like me then that makes things awkward in our friend group.”

Jubilee laid next to her, face up. “It’s Warren… he’s… he’s got some trauma and other issues. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually… Not everyone’s going to break down their walls after one conversation.” 

(Y/N) groaned against and wrapped her makeshift leave blanket tight around her body. 

“I’m going to get some food… Please take your vines with you when you leave.”

“Yes, mom.” (Y/N) mumbled.

-

“What’s her motive?” Warren asked Peter. Peter shrugged. “There’s no way she’d be nice to me just to be nice.” 

“I dunno, man. She’s nice to everyone, and I’ve never heard one bad thing about her. She yelled at me and her eyes turned red once, but that’s about it.” He took a bite of his sandwich, “Why do you even care anyway?” 

Kurt and Scott sat down with them, interrupting their conversation. 

“Shh! Not now…” Peter waved them off to make them silent. “Answer my question, Worthington.”

“Cause I’m not a good person. (Y/N) shouldn’t want to try and be my friend. Too many people would get upset about it. Do you know how many people want her to date, Kurt? Tiffany Jones DMed me on Instagram telling me to not ruin that. Tiffany Jones! We’ve never even spoken to each other! I didn’t even know she followed me.” 

Peter held back an eye roll. Warren was a good person, despite his past. Would he ever realize this? Probably not. 

“Okay well, (Y/N) is just kind to everyone. It fits her whole “Mother Nature” vibe she’s got going on. Just don’t be a dick to her and you’ll be fine.”

“She wants to date me?” Kurt asked and his cheeks were slightly violet and flushed. 

“No, Kurt,” Warren interjected. “People want you two to date. It’s like Stranger Things— some people wanted Nancy to date, Johnathan, others wanted her to date, Steve. They shipped her with someone. People do it with you and (Y/N), and it’s kinda weird but to each their own, I guess.” 

“Oh... But why me? Why not you or someone else?”

“Because you’re both liked by everyone, and you’re nice to everyone. I’m like... Rodrick from Diary of a Wimpy kid; (Y/N) is a Disney princess. We wouldn’t mix.” 

Peter and Scott tried holding back snickers, as Warren was kinda right. He was a punk emo with daddy issues, and he wasn’t half bad with a drum set.

“Don’t opposites attract?” 

Warren waved him off, “That’s a myth.” 

Kurt shrugged, “Andy and April from Parks and Rec worked out.” 

“They’re fictional, and (Y/N) could date almost any guy here. Why would she want to date me?” 

Silence. “She doesn’t. End of story. She’s just overly nice and I thought for a moment maybe someone was forcing her to be or she like, wanted to sleep with me or something.” Warren shrugged, “I dunno.” 

“You sound like the plot of a Tame Impala song.” Warren threw a grape at Scott’s head, missing him by an inch or so. “Hey! Just because I’m calling you out for obsessing over a girl doesn’t mean you can get mad at me. I could have gotten hurt!” 

“Dude, it’s a grape. Plus you have glasses on. You would have been fine,” Peter said. 

“It’s the matter of the thing.” Peter rolled his eyes at his roommate’s dramatics.

“You know I wouldn’t purposely hurt you.” Warren reminded him. 

“Still… You can’t get mad because a cute girl is being nice to you.” 

“I’m not mad, I’m confused. There’s a difference.” 

Scott nodded mocking him by agreeing, “Uh-huh… And in about a week you’ll be gushing over how amazing she is and how you’d do anything for her, and how you could just watch her do nothing all day.” 

“That’s you. You described yourself.” 

Scott raised his eyebrows as he played with the fry in his hand. “And? I know I’m whipped, I don’t care— You on the other hand…” Warren glared at him. Scott smirked and popped the fry into his mouth. 

“What color were her eyes when you talked to her?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know, uh, green? Aren’t they almost always green?”

Scott nodded, and Peter continued talking. “Yeah, but I was just curious. If she really didn’t want to be nice to you just because then maybe her eyes would have been like brown or something— I dunno. There’s a million different options.”

As Peter was going on and on about (Y/N)’s eyes changing color, Warren’s mind started to drift off to their interaction in class. 

Her eyes were green, but they weren’t pure green… 

“You don’t talk much do you?”

Warren’s eyes met hers, “I talk.” 

“Yeah, but— I meant… Never mind.”

Her eyes were pink. Only for a little while, and Warren almost thought he imagined it— but he didn’t. There was no way. 

But what did pink mean?

“What does it mean if her eyes turn pink? Like a millennial pink sort of.” 

Peter furrowed his brows as he thought for a moment, “You know… I don’t know… I don’t think her eyes have ever turned pink before.”

“Oh.” Warren frowned a little. He was expecting Peter to know, or at least have a vague idea.

-

Warren was showering when his phone dinged. He only had sound on when he wasn’t 100% available, in case of an emergency. 

He held his arm out to grab his phone and keep it from getting wet.

(Y/N): Hey, Warren! 

He sighed, it was just (Y/N). Nothing major. 

Warren: What’s up?

(Y/N): Want to work on the paper together? Ororo ran to the store with Raven so my room is available.

Warren debated for a few seconds whether or not he should go. He didn't have anything else to do, and it wasn’t that late. 

Warren: Sure. I’ll be down in about 20 mins.

(Y/N): *thumbs up emoji*

Warren smiled to himself before finishing his shower.

-

(Y/N) tried to make the room look presentable as possible, which was hard to do with all the plants everywhere— on her side and Ororo’s. 

There was a knock on the door. (Y/N) glanced in the mirror, making sure she didn’t look too frazzled. Then she opened the door to let Warren in.

His hair was damp and he smelt like a vanilla candle, he wore sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. One large enough to hide his wings in, so there were no holes cut in the back. 

“Hi! I hope wasn’t interrupting you or anything…” 

He shut the door behind him, “No, I was just in the shower.” He glanced around the room. Warren had been in it before, most of the time to hang out with Ororo, but he never really paid attention to (Y/N)’s half. Her side of the room was covered in fairy lights and plants. A lot of plants. 

“Sit wherever you want. Just kinda ignore all the plants—“ Some of the vines hanging around her bed moved as she sat down. 

“Okay.” He sat down in the desk chair. 

“So… I got a couple of news articles dealing with mutant rights— one about the adoption laws varying from state to state… another about some of the protests in Chicago due to the girl with gills getting fired from her job…” 

-

Surprisingly, Warren and (Y/N) finished their paper sooner than they thought they would. “I’m gonna send it to Jubilee so she can give criticism since she’s in honors.” 

“Sounds good.” (Y/N) nodded, typing away on her laptop.

Then Warren’s stomach growled. He blushed. 

“Sorry— I didn’t eat after training…”

“You skipped dinner?” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t that hungry and I took a shower. I didn’t really eat lunch either… I’ve been kinda preoccupied—“ 

“What the hell?! You have to eat! Your body needs nutrition! You of all people should know that— you’re like, 90% muscle.” 

“It’s just one time.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on— we finished our paper. You’re getting something to eat.” 

-

(Y/N) held Warren’s hand as she dragged him into the kitchen. They received a few weird stares, but it didn’t concern her. 

How could Warren be so careless?

“Sit.” She pointed to a bar stool.  “I’ll make something.” Warren nodded and sat down. 

“Do you have any food allergies?” 

“Don’t think so.” 

“Great, I’ll make something basic.” (Y/N) looked through the fridge before settling on the cheese. 

Grilled cheese is easy enough. Plus I can make myself one. 

She turned on a stovetop and put the buttered bread on the pan. 

She grabbed two plates from a cabinet using the vines from her arms— they extended to reach and wrap around the plates and set them on the table. Warren watched in awe. It looked effortless— kind of like when telepaths move things with their mind, they make it seem like anyone could do it.

“Does it take effort? Manipulating plants?” 

(Y/N) shook her head as she set Warren’s sandwich on a plate, and got her’s onto the pan. “Not the vines on my body. Other plants, though, it depends. If I’m just moving a vine or tree branch out of my way, that’s easy, but to have a sapling grow into a fully formed oak tree? That takes a bit more energy. Sometimes in my sleep I accidentally cause plants to grow— I’ll wake up next to an apple tree, or even a pumpkin or watermelon.”

“Really?” He was surprised. 

“Yeah. Also, the weather can affect me too. If it’s sunny out and the plants are thriving, I’m usually more awake and can do more without feeling weak, but if it’s cold and cloudy or even snowing, it takes a bit more effort.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes were a vibrant green and yellow, you could tell she was excited to tell someone about her mutation. She looked genuinely happy to talk about it. 

“That’s really cool. I didn’t know you could do all that.” 

He swore her eyes flashed a bit of pink again, but it could have been the lighting. 

“No one really asks… and besides, you can’t really use plants in the danger room.”

“I bet you could…” Warren offered.  “If you found a way.” 

She glanced down at her sandwich, “Maybe…” 

“Can I ask you something else?”

She looked up and nodded. Her eyes definitely had some pink now. Warren didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to ask. 

“What’s up with you and Kurt?” 

“Oh— Oh, um, I mean it’s nothing.” Her eyes were purple as she spoke, “People started some rumors after I helped Xavier as his TA for Kurt’s English class, and no one wanted to read for Juliet so I read for her and people decided to ship us. We’re not actually dating.” 

“That was a while back… people still haven’t let that go?” 

She shook her head, “Plus, people think ‘Oh, Kurt’s so innocent, and (Y/N) is too. They’d make a great couple.’ Which is dumb because guys and girls can be similar and just be friends.”

“Yeah, but a lot of people want you guys together. I had a girl DM me on Instagram to not get in the way of it.” 

(Y/N)‘s eyes widened in surprise, “What? Why?” 

“I dunno. I guess she thought I’d pull off some like, fuckboy moves or something.” 

“But you’re not a fuckboy! You haven’t even dated anyone since you came to school here— and I know that’s by choice. There’s at least twenty girls here who’d love to have your tongue down their throat.” 

Warren blinked at her bluntness. He was not expecting that. “I mean… you’re not wrong…” He had a faint idea of who some of the girls were, but he figured ignorance was bliss. If he knew for sure who they were, Warren wasn’t sure he could look them in the eyes. 

He cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a good number of guys interested in you… why aren’t you dating one of them?”

“I don’t want to. I mean sure, there’s tons of cute guys, but I just don’t think it would work out. Plus, too many people would kill them if they weren’t Kurt,” (Y/N) joked. 

Warren smiled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He got up, carrying his plate to the sink. 

“I’ve also never had a boyfriend before.” 

He looked at her, curious. “That can’t be true. You’ve never had a boyfriend before?” 

“Nope. I’ve kissed people before and stuff… but, I dunno…”

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing… Guys can be dumb as shit sometimes.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “Trust me, I know.” 

Warren rose an eyebrow while setting (Y/N)’s plate into the sink. 

“Scott, a  prime example of a dumb boy in a relationship.” 

Warren snickered, “Super smart but dumb as shit check!” 

(Y/N) shook her head, pretending to be disappointed but she had a smile on her face, “God we’re so mean.” 

“A little, but it’s Scott… a little harmless teasing won’t hurt.”

“I guess so.” 

Warren washed his hands and dried them with a towel. “Wanna go back up to my room? Or do something else?... It’s only 7:00.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

-

Peter and Kurt were in Warren’s room, which he shared with Kurt, when he entered with (Y/N). 

“And where have you two been?” Peter asked, pretending to act like a stern and concerned parent. 

“We finished our paper and I made grilled cheese.” 

“Grilled cheese, huh? No… ulterior motives?” Peter dragged out, just to tease Warren about his disconcerts from before. Warren flipped him off while (Y/N) wasn’t looking. 

“What have you guys been up to?” (Y/N) asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

“Not much. Jubilee asked us to help her organize the third grader’s field trip to the zoo for extra credit from McCoy.” 

“Oh my gosh— I said I’d help her with that—“ (Y/N) looked at her phone and mumbled a curse. “I ignored her message…”

“Just tell her you were busy, I’m sure she won’t mind.” Warren shrugged.

“But I feel bad for ignoring her, plus the extra credit—“ 

“That you don’t need. Don’t feel bad, Jubilee forgets to respond to stuff all the time.” Warren walked over to his closet. “Are you gonna be okay if I take my shirt off?” 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock and confusion, “Why— What— What, why are you stripping?” 

She was sure her eyes were fully purple, I mean, come on! What kind of random question is ‘Are you okay with me taking my shirt off?’ Plus they were in Warren’s bedroom!

“I just don’t want to keep my wings restrained if I don’t have to… I usually don’t in my room, I’m shirtless most of the time.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed magenta for a moment as the thought of a shirtless Warren flashed through her brain for a second. She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, go ahead. I don’t mind.” He nodded and removed his hoodie off, tossing it on his desk chair.

“Well, Kurt…” Peter awkwardly spoke up.  “I think Jubilee wanted our help with the field trip… And with some other stuff…” 

“Vhat?” 

“Remember?” He asked, motioning to (Y/N) and Warren with his eyes. 

“Oh! Oh Yeah! Ve… Ve gotta go.” Kurt waved. 

“Have fun, you guys!” Peter grabbed Kurt’s hand and they disappeared with a puff of smoke. 

“Do they think— because we’re not— I don’t— You don’t—“

“Relax, (Y/N).” Warren chuckled. “That’s just Peter being Peter.” 

“I suppose so…” She grew a flower in the palm of her hand and picked at the petals. 

Warren plopped down next to her, “What do you want to do?” 

She shrugged, “I’m not sure… We could… We could play never have I ever.”

Warren scoffed, “Never have I ever, with only two people?” 

“It’s fun. More... intimate. Ororo and I used to do it a lot when she had trouble sleeping her first few nights here.” 

“Are you trying to sleep with me?” He teased.

“What? No! No, no… Why are you laughing?”

“I was just joking. And you’re reaction was funny. Like we’d ever sleep together.”

She glanced at him, in a bit of disbelief of what he said. “Hmm?” 

“I don’t think— Never mind.”

(Y/N) nodded awkwardly, trying to make herself not feel awkward. She didn’t want to make the situation weird, “I’ll start the game. Never have I ever ditched class.” 

“I have.”

“I know, Jubilee tells me when you two skip to go thrift shopping or to the music store downtown.” 

“You should join us sometime— Never have I ever cheated on a test.” 

“I did once. One time! In third grade, I wasn’t sure how to spell vacuum so I looked at the girl next to me and copied what she put.” 

Warren faked a gasp, “You trouble maker!” 

“It was third grade!” (Y/N) tried to be defensive, but couldn’t hide the smile adorning her face as Warren teased. “My turn. Never have I ever… never have I ever… had a crush on a friend’s significant other.” 

Warren hesitated with his answer. He didn’t really want to tell (Y/N). He didn’t have a crush anymore, and the girl knew— but her boyfriend didn’t. If he found out, Warren was dead meat.

“Who was it?”

“What?”

“The girl you had a crush on…”

“I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“You were slow at answering. If you didn’t like anyone you wouldn’t need time to answer.” 

Warren shot a dirty look at (Y/N). “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just curious—“

“Can we just forget it? She knows, and I don’t like her anymore.” 

“Yeah, yeah… It’s uh, it’s your turn.” 

Warren didn’t say anything.

“You can ask me whatever you want. No matter how personal it seems.” 

“Alright… Are you a virgin?”

I did say he could ask me anything… Plus I did ask him a really personal question… “Yeah.” 

“Oh…” Duh! She’s never had a boyfriend before. What kind of question was that, dumbass?

“I’ve never been in a relationship or had sex— I’m not a prude though, I’ve kissed people before. At like, spin the bottle at a party or something.” 

“I respect that… Relationships are messy and honestly sometimes don’t seem worth it.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, fiddling with another flower she grew. “Kissing isn’t that great anyway.”

Warren involuntarily licked his lips, “What do you mean?” 

“It’s either too short and awkward and you bump noses, or like, there’s too much force and pressure to it and the other person collides their teeth with your lips.” 

“Jesus! Who are you kissing?”

(Y/N) chuckles darkly and shakes her head, “You don’t want to know.” 

Warren smiled, “Yikes.” 

They both laughed together. 

When the laughter died down, Warren asked the dumbest question possible. 

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was quiet, soft— different from how it was moments before.

“What?”

“I’ve been told I’m a good kisser…” He awkwardly explained. “I could show you… Change your mind?”

“Change my mind?”

“It could stay between us… It doesn’t even need to have any meaning behind it.” Warren scooted himself so he was sitting face to face from (Y/N). He looked up at her eyes trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her eyes flashed from yellow to pink, then purple. He wasn’t sure what the colors all meant. He made a mental note to learn what they all stood for. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nodded, “Change my mind.” 

Warren cupped her face in his hand. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright.” Warren tilted his head to the left a little, to prevent his nose from bumping into (Y/N)’s. He pressed his lips gently against hers. Warren used his other hand to cup the rest of her face. Their lips moved together in perfect motion. A warm feeling formed in Warren’s stomach, and he carefully removed his lips from (Y/N)’s.

It was rather brief, but enough to show (Y/N) what she’d been missing. 

“Wow…” Her eyes were pinker than before. Warren’s face was flushed, but he ignored it. 

“Wow?”

“Yeah, um… wow. That was… That was nice.” 

“Mhmm…” Warren wasn’t sure what to say. Yeah, he was a good kisser, but the kiss didn’t mean anything. It was just showing (Y/N) that not everyone sucks at kissing. The pink in her eyes just meant she was flustered and nothing else.  She wasn’t going to crush on Warren, and he wasn’t going to crush on her. 

-

(Y/N) left after that. She didn’t know what to do. She’d heard rumors about Warren— saying he was a player, a heartthrob, didn’t care about anyone but himself— (Y/N) couldn’t find that to be true. Sure, if she caught feelings she would get hurt because Warren didn’t like her back… but he wasn’t an asshole. 

She sighed, slipping into pajamas. It was easy for everyone else, (Y/N) had no complications with anyone else, everyone liked her and she liked them. She’d only gotten mad at someone once and it was Peter… but Warren… Warren was different. 

Something drew (Y/N) in, and she couldn’t figure out what. Perhaps, despite their differences, they could be good friends. 

As she got under her covers, she sprouted some poppies to help her sleep. 

-

The paper was a huge success! Warren and (Y/N) got a 98% on it. 

“We should celebrate!” 

“What for? You did most of the work.” 

“That’s not true, and besides, I’ve had a tiresome week and I want to relax.” 

Warren shrugged, “Sure. What’d you have in mind?” 

-

“Why are we in the attic?” 

“I thought we could watch a movie or something. Ororo and I have been using it as a greenhouse of sorts, but we haven’t grown enough plants yet.” 

“Yet?!” Warren gaped. The attic was like 80% plant, 20% building, and here (Y/N) was, saying there’s no such thing as too many plants.

She smiled, setting down her laptop and some blankets, “Duh!” (Y/N) messed with her laptop for a few minutes before pulling up Netflix. 

“You can pick something out.” 

“Anything?” (Y/N) nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” She was off to the side, messing with a plant. “If you don’t see anything you like, I have Hulu too.”

“Netflix is fine.” 

(Y/N) came back and sat next to Warren. “Find something good?”

“Uh, yeah— yeah.” She peered over his shoulder to see.

“Ooo! The Addam’s family! I love that movie.”

“I haven’t seen it since I was a kid. I barely remember the plot.” 

“Oh, it’s so good! You’re gonna love it.” 

(Y/N) pressed play and got comfortable under the covers. Warren did the same. 

-

The movie was good. Warren really enjoyed it. 

“What’d you think?” (Y/N) was excited in asking him. 

“It was good! Like, really good.”

“Yeah! I really liked Gomez and Morticia and their relationship, even if it is unrealistic… Also for the 90s, the effects for Thing were really good!” Warren nodded, slightly frowning when she talked about Gomez and Morticia’s relationship. 

Is that really what she thinks? Is that why she’s single? 

Why— Why do I even care?! It’s not like I like her or anything.

“Yeah, yeah… We should uh, get going—“ He glanced at the laptop, “—before people ask where we are.” 

“Right! Right… I can get it, no biggie.”

“Sure you don’t want any help?” (Y/N) shook her head. Warren couldn’t help but notice she had a shift in demeanor. Her eyes were fully purple, with pink slowly fading around the pupil. He kept quiet and followed (Y/N) out of the attic.

“Are you going to the mall Friday?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” Scott wanted the group to do something fun for once— plus it was one of the few options Xavier approved of. “Are you?”

“Uh-huh. Peter suggested we go see a movie or something.”

“Yeah, that could be fun. Scott will wanna hit up the arcade but that’s typical.”

They stopped at her door— (Y/N) obviously struggled to open it due to the unwieldy stuff in her arms. “Here— I got it,” Warren opened the door and let her go forward. 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem. I’ll see you later.” 

“You’re leaving?” Warren felt his chest ache, but he dismissed it as nothing. He ate at Five Guys with Jubilee and Kurt the other day. 

“Yeah, I have some homework… Sorry…” 

“You’re okay. I’ll… see you later.” 

Warren smiled and said, “Bye,” before shutting the door behind him. When he was gone, (Y/N) sat down and leaned against the door and sighed. 

She didn’t want him to leave, but she didn’t know what to do or what to say— she wanted to kiss him again. 

No— You can’t kiss him. Warren doesn’t like you. 

She pushed the dirty thought aside and flopped onto her bed, covering herself in ivy to lay and let the sun come through the window.

-

Warren was in Hank’s lab, just for a medical update. Alex was there as well, as he’s never too far away from Hank. 

“Any trouble with your wings?”

“Not really. The feathers grow back metal and they’re heavy. They’re easier to clean than my old ones, but I sometimes miss a spot.”

Hank nodded, skimming some papers. “Do you want someone to help you clean your wings?”

“No! No way,” Warren rose his voice defensively. “I’m not comfortable.” 

“Maybe if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend to help out,” Alex offered. 

Warren rolled his eyes, “Well, I don’t have one and there’s no one here I want to date anyway.” 

Alex smiled to himself, “You mean there’s no one here who you think likes you, so you pretend to not be interested.” 

“Since when did you become my psychiatrist?” Warren squinted.

“Since your movie date.” 

Hank glanced at Alex for a moment before going back to his paperwork, “What movie date?”

“The one he and (Y/N) had yesterday—“

“It wasn’t a date. She just wanted to hang out some more since we finished our paper for English.”

“Mhmm…” Alex didn’t believe it. 

“I’m serious! We are literally in the same friend group, we’re going to hang out together.”

“What Peter’s been telling me is different.”

 Warren almost scoffed in disbelief, “You’re really going to trust Peter over me on this?”

“No, but Peter told me you asked what it means when her eyes turn pink.” 

Hank stopped his work and was fully listening to the blondes argue— “(Y/N)’s eyes have never been pink before, well, not many shades of pink. What was it?” 

“Um… It was only for a moment,” Warren mumbled.  “It could have been the lighting or whatever…”

“No, no, this is really important. I like to keep a note of what each of her colors mean. Even if you just saw her eyes flash, I need to know when, why, and what shade of pink.”

“It’s happened a few times, but never for very long… it’s usually a millennial pink… Um, I don’t think it’s happened around anyone else before because no one else knew what I was talking about when I asked…” 

“How often have her eyes turned pink? What were you guys doing when they turned pink?”

Warren thought back to all the times he swore her eyes turned pink. Nothing huge… Just when we were in class or whenever we’ve hung out this week. Nothing too special— Oh. 

Warren realized something. Something he maybe shouldn’t have. 

Her eyes were fully pink when we kissed… I— I can’t tell Hank and Alex that! They wouldn’t understand and they’d think we’re into each other. Which we are not… Well, I don’t think I’m into (Y/N), but now I’m not sure if she likes me or not.

“Just during class, when we’re alone, just like, whenever we’ve hung out this week. I don’t think it means anything really.” 

“You never know, Warren.” 

He nodded, “Right, right… Am I uh, am I free to go?”

“Yeah, you’re fine, you’re wings are fine. You can access your medical file if you want the details.” 

“Great. Thank you.” Warren hopped off the bed and walked out. 

-

What am I going to do?! (Y/N) might like me! Now I have to put in effort and not seem like a total burnout around her. She’s got high expectations and standards and I’m fucked!

Wait… Warren sat there, confused. Why did he care if (Y/N) liked him?

If I accidentally break her heart, everyone will actually kill me and... I kind of give a shit for once. That’s all…

Warren got his phone out and opened his messages. He opened his conversation with (Y/N). The last thing she sent him was an old picture of Alex she found in the library. 

He typed out hey, ready to send it, but his thumb hovered over the little arrow. What would he even say to her? What if she didn’t respond? What if she actually hated him and that’s what the pink meant? He turned his phone off and set it on his bed. Warren flopped onto his mattress and buried his face into his pillow. 

-

(Y/N) was studying with the other girls. They were reviewing for McCoy’s bio test and she was busy writing down answers for her study guide. 

“Who’s going to the mall Friday?” Jubilee asked out of the blue. 

Jean started listing off people, “Scott, Peter, Kurt, us—“ 

“Warren’s going! He told me,” (Y/N) spoke up. 

“He is?” Jubilee asked. “He didn’t say anything to me.” 

“I asked him yesterday.” (Y/N) had a smile on her face. 

“When?” Ororo got out a pack of gum and offered Jean a piece. 

“We were up in the attic watching a movie.”

Jubilee eyed her, “You guys did what?” 

“We just watched the Addams family. Warren and I are friends.” (Y/N)’s tone was slightly defensive. 

“Your eyes are pink,” Jean stated. 

“What?” (Y/N) quickly looked at herself using her phone’s front camera. “Oh my god—it’s— they’ve— they’ve never been pink before. I don’t know what—“

“Think for two seconds. Who are we talking about?”

Jean! I don’t— I don’t like Warren! Not as a boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend and he doesn’t want to date anyone.

She smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I just really like the fact we’re friends now. That’s all. I’m not in love with him or anything…”

What if my subconscious does love Warren? I doubt it. I think I would know if I was in love. 

“And anyway, it’s just a coincidence. They’ve never been pink before so I’m sure finally being friends with Warren just—“

“They’ve been pink before,” Ororo spoke up.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock. “What? When?” 

“I don’t know when exactly, but Peter told me Warren was asking about it a few days ago.” 

(Y/N) was trying not to freak out. “Why was he asking?”

“Didn’t say, but I bet he saw your eyes flash pink or something.” 

“Oh my god…” (Y/N) was horrified. Warren knew. He knew! He knew how she felt and he would probably never speak to her again or break her heart and (Y/N) couldn’t live with either of those options. She didn’t want the first person she’d ever had a real crush on to find out. Warren didn’t want to date anyone! He told her this, right before they kissed in his bedroom… 

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and groaned. She didn’t know what to do— by this time tomorrow, everyone would know she likes Warren. The embarrassment, the rejection, the humiliation, the—

“Hey, babe. Here’s your textbook you left in my room.” 

(Y/N) looked up and saw Scott giving a book back to Jean. She looked at his face. 

Of course! Scott wears glasses all the time so it’s harder to know what he’s thinking!

“Scott—” 

He turned to face (Y/N). “Yeah?”

“Do you have a spare pair of glasses?”

“Um… I just have my visor. Why are you asking?” 

She waved him off, “Never mind. Jubilee, can I borrow your sunglasses?”

“Sure, why?” 

“I need to cover my eyes. Just for a while. Until this whole, “pink eye” thing stops happening.” 

“Pink eye?” Scott asked, furrowing his brows.

“It’s— It’s nothing, trust me. Warren and I are becoming closer and I’m just happy.”

“Your eyes turn pink when you’re around Warren?” Scott was trying to hide his emotions, for his mind was zooming with thoughts.

“And when we talk about him,” Jubilee teased. 

“You know,” Scott pondered,  “He was asking about that the other day…” 

(Y/N) tensed. Warren had to know. There was no way he didn’t. “He was?” 

“Yeah. What does it mean?”

“It means—”

“—It means,” Jubilee cut her off, “(Y/N)’s got a thing for Warren.”

(Y/N) shook her head, “I do not!” 

“Yeah, you do,” Ororo said offhandedly.  

“It doesn’t matter, okay? I just need some sunglasses to hide my eyes so people don’t know what I’m feeling all the time. Have you ever thought maybe I don’t like being an open book?” The last sentence came out harsher than expected. Everyone was shocked, how could (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the flower child, be so angry? 

(Y/N) looked down, embarrassed from raising her voice, “I didn’t mean to snap at you guys…”

Jubilee spoke over her, “It’s okay. I’ll get you my sunglasses.” 

-

Everything was darker, but that was the purpose of sunglasses, to block out the sun. (Y/N) didn’t mind much, but it was sometimes hard to read text on the board and her eyes hurt by the third period. 

“How do you do this every day?” She asked Scott as they walked down the halls to their next class. 

“I don’t have a choice.” 

“Oh…” (Y/N) glances down at her feet wide-eyed with guilt. “Right…”

“I know you’re doing it for other reasons, but I think it’s cool you’re wearing sunglasses all day. I don’t feel alone.” 

“I can— I can still see color though.” 

“Yeah, but not as well. Sometimes I feel lonely when everyone talks about colors— the sunset, the fruit at the grocery store— hell, I even miss seeing the green grass! The grass!” 

“That must be hard.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel pity, even though she knew that Scott didn’t want it. “I don’t think I could ever imagine living in just red…” 

“Sometimes…” Scott sheepishly began, “Jean uses her powers and I can see color for a little bit, but it’s from her point of view, and it’s hard for her. She can only do it for a minute or two, and I don’t want to hurt her.” 

“Aww,” (Y/N) cooed. “You’re so sweet.” 

“Shut up!” A blush covered Scott’s cheeks and he got quiet for a moment. 

“So you and Warren, huh?” 

(Y/N) groaned, “Why am I talking about this with you?”

“Because I’m your only guy friend in a relationship,” Scott offered up as a question. 

She huffed. Scott was right. “Fair point… It’s just… I don’t know… I don’t think he likes me back—which is fine— I just don’t want him to be uncomfortable when he finds out I like him.” 

Scott furrowed his eyebrows, “When he finds out?”

“Pink eyes,” (Y/N) deadpanned. “remember?” 

“Right, right… but how do you know he doesn’t like you back?” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “We can’t have a telepath in our relationship.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Jean probably knew you liked her the whole time before you dated.” 

“Hold on! She never read my mind— we made a promise—“

(Y/N) crosses her arms and stopped for a moment, “Mmhmm. All I’m saying is, there’s no mind reader between me and Warren. I can’t tell, and he doesn’t know yet… besides, he told me himself, we wouldn’t work out. We’re too different, and too many people want me to date, Kurt…” 

“Opposites attract.” 

“No, they don’t… At least that’s what Warren said…”

“Okay, listen— Warren is the dumbest person I know.”

(Y/N)’s mouth gaped, “Warren’s not dumb, he’s in two AP classes and speaks multiple languages.”

“What—“ Scott squinted,  “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“You said Warren was dumb. I said he wasn’t.” (Y/N) awkwardly crossed her arms. 

“What I meant was, Warren’s being stupid. Thinking he’s not good enough for anyone, how he thinks he’s too punk for you. It’s obvious!”

“What is?” 

“Warren likes you.”

-

(Y/N) stood there, in shock. She didn’t know what to do. 

Warren liked her. Allegedly. 

“How— How do you know that?”

“You can just tell. It’s obvious.”

Maybe… “Oh…” 

A teacher down the hall scolded some students for loitering in the hall. “We better get to class,” Scott motioned to the kids with his head. 

“Um, yeah. We should get going…” (Y/N)’s eyes flashed to purple.

-

Warren saw (Y/N) in the afternoon. She had on sunglasses, and her hair was slightly messy. She looked hungover, but Warren knew that wasn’t her, partying her nights away, (Y/N) was the perfect princess— and Warren? Warren was John Bender from the breakfast club, except he wasn’t in a John Hughes movie, and he didn’t get the girl and have a half-assed happy ending. 

But back to (Y/N). 

“Hey, Shades.” 

“Hi.” She was curt. Did Warren do something wrong?

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah!” She seemed nervous.  “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“You’re wearing sunglasses…” He pointed out. “Inside…” 

“Yeah?.... I’m just… I just…” She struggled to come up with an answer. 

“Hungover?” Warren suggested. 

“Pfft… No. I don’t… I don’t really…”

Warren nodded, “Right, right. I don’t really either, but I used to so…”

“I’m trying to hide my eyes.” 

Warren turned face to face with (Y/N), blinking in surprise. 

“Why?”

“Reasons…” 

“What kind of reasons?”

“I just don’t want people to read me like a book…” (Y/N) was lying. Partially. 

“Oh… I mean, not everyone knows what your eye colors mean.”

“Most people do. And if they don’t they ask.” 

Warren winced. She knew he asked about the pink eyes. She was going to think of him as some nosy, pitiful, boy with daddy issues.  “People are gonna think you’re hungover.”

“Three already asked.” 

Warren smiled to himself, he found it almost funny. “Why’re you trying to hide your emotions?”

“I like someone.” 

The three words froze in his mind. 

(Y/N) liked someone. Someone who was normal, probably. Someone the student body approved up. Somebody who hasn’t killed people and looks like a nightmare. 

“Oh.” 

He couldn’t see the concern in her eyes when his face obviously fell. 

“Yeah. I’ll um, I’ll see you later.”

Warren nodded awkwardly, “Yeah. See you later…”

-

The mall trip was awkward. (Y/N) had her glasses on still and half of her friends didn’t know why, and Warren was sulking because of (y/N)’s mystery lover.

“So, (Y/N)...” Peter drawled out. “What’s with the sunglasses? You trying to copy Scott?” 

She laughed a little at his joke. “Not really…” Peter raised his eyebrows, silently pressing for details. “I just don’t want people to see my eyes. That’s all.”

“Why? Is it because they’re… pink?”

Damnit, Peter! Warren cursed to himself. You had to bring it up. Rub it in my face that the Princess found her Prince Charming. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” (Y/N) glanced at Warren for a moment as he listened to Jubilee ramble on about some girl she met at a thrift store. 

“Why?... Because you’re in looove?” 

(Y/N) swatted his arm. “I am not!” 

“Oh, but I know that's not true.” Peter pouted and bat his eyes. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Woah! Didn’t know Snow White knew such naughty words.” 

Warren grimaced,  Peter was pushing her buttons and Warren wanted to strangle him, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. 

Borderline mullet, feathery white wings, and an adrenaline rush with the ability to punch everyone within five feet in front of him. 

Now he was a gang looking member, with trauma, and recovering from bad habits. Don’t mention that he was in love with Mother Nature.

Warren was so lost in his own words that he didn’t even notice Peter and (Y/N) bickering. 

“Stop it—“ 

The glasses fell. And then the unexpected happened. 

Jubilee stepped on the sunglasses. They cracked under her heel. 

“Oh shit! Aw, man!” Jubilee didn’t even care, they were her glasses. She got them at five below for three dollars two years ago. Jubilee picked up the broken shades and looked them over. 

“Oh well. They were cheap anyway.” Jubilee tossed the remains in the trash and didn’t even give it a second thought. 

Warren looked at (Y/N) and they made eye contact. Her eyes flashed purple, maroon, and they settled on pink. Full-on rose gold, soft-blushing pink. 

There were flowers in her hair and they retracted into buds— a defense mechanism— she was scared, but wouldn’t break away from him. 

Everyone looked at them like one looks at a car wreck or a burning building. 

Warren glared at them. “Alright, um, let’s go to Barnes and Noble…” Jubilee dragged everyone away, leaving Warre and (Y/N) behind. 

“Were you hiding your feelings from me?” 

She nodded, “I didn’t want you to know, though.”

It finally all clicked in Warren’s mind. She wanted to hide her emotions from him because she was into him, and everything he said about them “not being compatible, people don’t ship us, the kiss was only platonic”. “I get it.” 

“I want you, but I…” 

“I made up bullshit to push you away because I was scared… You’re way out of my league and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care…” She stepped closer to him. “I’d kiss you right now, but we’re in public…” Warren quickly cupped (Y/N)’s face and left a peck on her lips. 

Even a quick kiss from Warren was better than anything from a boy at a crappy house party.

“Do you want to go to find our friends?”

“Yeah, yeah. We probably should.” 

-

Warren wasn’t sure at what point her hand slipped into his and held on, but he didn’t move away either. 

Something in one of the shop windows caught his eye though. 

It was a book. Titled, Olympus Gods or something. It made a light go off in Warren’s mind, but he couldn’t figure it out. 

What, why does— Then he saw a Harry Potter toy. The three-headed dog, Fluffy or something. 

Who else had a three-headed dog? 

“Hades…” 

“Hmm?” She looked at Warren with confusion. 

“Hades and Persephone— plant goddess and goth guy.” 

She got the hint right away, and nudged his arm with her elbow, “Dork.” 

Warren blushed, “Yeah, yeah… just shut up,” He joked.

[thebickedwitchoftherest]

Oh My God, They Were Roommates || Camille & Cece

Timing: Sometime before Jane moved in (please don’t roast me)

Location: Cece’s house

Parties: Cece & @carrionxcamille

Summary: When Camille moved in with Cece they share dinner and get to know each other.

Camille was going to owe Cece for the rest of her life, and she didn’t even care about the debt.

Once she’d chucked her pitiful backpack of belongings- yes, she still had that little stuff to her name- into the bedroom that was to be hers, Camille bolted straight to the bathroom, throwing an apology over her shoulder for how long she was about to steal the shower for. Hey, the water pressure in that motel had done absolutely nothing for her hair. When she did eventually leave the bathroom in a flourish of steam with a towel wrapped around her head she felt more at peace than she had in months. Seriously, the wonders of a good hot shower never ceased to amaze.

It was a little while after that she left her room again, in the silky new pajama set she’d treated herself too with her hair soft and shiny and actually dry, since the hairdryer here didn’t threaten to overheat if you had it on for more than five minutes.

The fun didn’t stop there though, because now Camille had a whole actual kitchen to play with. “Cece, I’m gonna make dinner!” She called out, already rummaging through the fridge for ideas- she’d have to start writing the lists for their grocery shopping, this place was lacking- “stop me if you don’t like spaghetti carbonara!” She was already starting anyway, feeling lighter and more at ease than she had in weeks. To be in a real home again really lifted her spirits. 

In almost no time at all she had food set on the table- she was only sorry they didn’t have anything she could make dessert with, but ice cream would do- and was pouring a glass of white wine for each of the girls. “I’m sorry I immediately took over your shower and kitchen.” Camille said, now that some of her excitement had given way and reminded her of her manners, “I hope you like dinner, anyway. I just wanted to say thank you to you, for having me. It means a lot that you’d help me like you have.” 

Cece had been laughing to herself the entire day. As sad as it was, Camille didn’t have much to move with her when Cece set off on helping her move out of that shithole motel she had been trapped in. Nothing but a few small bags that needed transferred to the first of Cece’s guest bedrooms. It had been the same one that Morgan had used after a similar situation had her moving in. Personally, Cece loved the feeling. As horribly as her own circumstances had ended up with the coven, they had still taken her in after getting kicked out of her own home. When she had nowhere else to go, they had taken her in. Obviously, Cece wasn’t about to pull some bullshit like that, but she could pay it back minus the whole culty murder part.

As Camille made herself home and found her way to the fridge, Cece gravitated over towards it and joined her, grabbing a chair at the barstool that looked into the kitchen. “Ooh, Carbonara? Now that’s fancy.” Cece would take whatever Cam was planning on cooking. Cece wasn’t a picky eater by means, and she also wasn’t much of a cook. Cece had learned a few recipes from Morgan but rarely cooked them for herself. 

“Hey, feel free to cook in my kitchen any time. Especially if you’re making enough for two.” Cece held up her wine glass that Camille had poured as if in cheers, “But don’t worry. I have a full bathroom in my room. That one is all yours.” Cece didn’t waste any time digging into the food, nodding her head and giving a thumbs up after the first mouthful, “Oh this shit is bomb” Cece finally spoke after she finished chewing, digging right back in for another bite. “You don’t have to thank me. You needed a place that wasn’t a den for up and coming serial killers. I have two guest rooms. It all worked out. I’d love to know what convinced you to come here of all places.”

She was safe here, that was the other thing. It was so much easier to breathe when you couldn’t hear your vampire neighbors through the walls discussing some party, when you weren’t watching another sad looking lost soul slip through the door of the drug dealer who lived on the other side. This felt like the kind of place she could start her life again. Save up, get an ID and her own place. It would be nice to have company, too. Camille had spent so much time staring blankly at terrible wallpaper with no one to talk too. “You’re in luck, I don’t really know how to cook for just one person.” She laughed, taking a seat at the table and raising her own glass in return to Cece’s gesture. 

It was a simple meal, by her standards anyway, but even Camille was blown away by how good it tasted after weeks of microwave meals and cold sandwiches. “I’m glad you like it- you’ll have to let me know if there’s anything you absolutely won’t or can’t eat, I’ll do some grocery shopping later this week.” She was looking forward to that, too. Proper food shopping. She wondered if Cece had a vegetable crisper. Camille doesn’t answer the question at first, about what convinced her to move to White Crest. She’s not the first person to ask, and she has a party line about her parents living nearby which she knew she should use right now, but…

Camille was remembering the bar, that joke that had been made about Cece hexing someone. Was she really a witch? There wasn’t anything in the house that screamed witchcraft to Cam, but then again she had no idea what sort of stuff that would really be. She ate and drank quietly for a while, considering what to say. If Cam asked outright and Cece turned out to not be a witch, to not know about or believe in any of that kind of stuff, it would be throwing a serious wrench in their dynamic just as they were getting to know eachother. No one wanted a crazy roommate, and spouting off about witches was exactly that. “My parents live nearby.” She spoke up after a while, giving Cece a bright smile and a shrug, “I’d heard about this place growing up and I figured… Well, if there was a time to live in the weird town it was now, right? If nothing else there’s always something wacky going on if I need a distraction.” Which she did, often. “What about you? Why are you in White Crest?”

Cece leaned back in her chair dramatically and patted her belly, “Don’t you worry roomie. This girl eats and and everything. I’m not picky.” Unlike her adopted parents, who both had a myriad of food allergies and dietary restrictions, her genetic parents (fuck them wherever they may be) had graced her with the appetite and taste buds to enjoy just about anything. And no allergies that she knew of to worry about. “I’m not gonna leave you completely hanging though, don’t worry. I can’t cook for shit, but I’ll make an excellent sous-chef.” She feigned cutting vegetables with her fork and then took a huge bite of pasta, “You and me are about to put MasterChef to shame.” 

Cece didn’t believe the answer, not entirely. Maybe it was because of the town itself. It just didn’t seem like people picked up and moved here on a whim. They came here on purpose, or they ended up here by some supernatural unlucky twist of fate. Maybe Camille really did just want a change. If she was looking for a little excitement in her life, then maybe she did turn to the town with a weird reputation. Back in high school, when Cece was full swing into her horror movie phase she probably would have done the same exact thing. She supposed it didn’t matter at the moment, Cam had only just moved in. The two weren’t obligated to explain the truth about them being here to each other. Cece had gotten more comfortable around town, helping out when needed, but that didn’t mean she was yelling it down the streets. “Long story. My family travelled a lot. They’re like the weird living off the Earth hippy types. We travelled all over the country before I finally decided to split off and make my own path. I just so happened to be up here in the New England area, so I looked for some job postings and bought a house.” Cece shrugged. Maybe it was an oversimplified version of the truth, but that story wasn’t one that she planned on telling to anyone. “Not nearly as glamorous as it sounds, honestly. Most of the time, I miss Cali. But this place has its own charms. Can’t complain about the company. Yourself included of course. Being roommates gives you automatic rights to the bestie list. Welcome to the club.”

Camille nods, pretty happy it seems like she’ll be able to have her run of recipes in this house- she’s already running through a list of her favorite things she wants to make first. Salmon, risotto, chickpea curry, stuffed vine leaves, sunday lunch! She’d done pretty much all the meal cooking at home- jobless Jace had made do with sandwiches or leftovers most of the time for lunch while she was at work- so it would be nice to get back into the swing of it, and actually have a little help. She’d read somewhere that cooking together could be a good bonding experience. Cam chuckled, “well that’s good. I’m sure you’ll be able to learn a little if we’re cooking together, too.” And she’d pick up a couple of her old favorite recipe books to leave behind once she moved out, too.

It was also nice to have her food appreciated for once, she’d been lucky to get so much as a thankyou out of Jace. Cam ate a little more as Cece explained how she’d found herself in town, quietly a little jealous that she’d travelled and seen so much more of the country than Cam ever had. From Bangor to Boston and pretty much back again. “Sounds like it must have made for a fun childhood.” She beams when Cece refers to her as a bestie- it’s been an awful long time since Camille has had proper friends. “Happy to be a member.” She says, “I think I’ve hit a patch of good luck, considering how coincidental it was that I met you that night at the bar.” She traces a finger around the rim of her wine glass, smiling wistfully, “hopefully it means things are turning around for me.”

Cece let herself laugh, whether it came across as genuine or sarcastic one was anybody’s guess. Must have made for a fun childhood. Explaining Cece’s past, even a felony free PG version of the tale, seemed complicated. Her life had been made up of different families. Her blood family that had never wanted her. Her adopted family that turned their backs on her. Her coven family, that took advantage of her. And her life here, with some semblance of a found family being built. Far too complex to try to get into during their first dinner together. So as far as Cam knew, maybe her life travelling around the country had been a fun childhood, even if she had never actually left California until she had turned 18. “Everyday was different, I’ll tell you that. Plus it led me here, where I spent the first few months freezing my ass day in and day out.” Cece pointed towards the closet near the front door, “Seriously, you should see all the winter coats I have in there. I used to wear those around the house.” 

That night had been a happy coincidence, hadn’t it? If Cece and Winn had gone to any other bar they probably wouldn’t have met each other at all. Just one of a sea of faces the two would look by as they passed each other on the street everyone once and awhile. “Fate does work in mysterious ways, I guess.” Cece wasn’t big into the idea of fate. From what she had seen, if you didn’t take control of it yourself fate had a tendency to fuck you over. “Ah right, you are here after a shitty divorce, right?” Cece vaguely remembered the conversation from that night, though admittedly Winn’s stream of drinks that he was footing the bill for had kept her pretty tipsy the entire night. “From what I remember, he sounds like a real fuckboy. So good for you, girl. You deserve a lot better.”

Adults are harder to read than kids. Even if what a kid says is confusing their tone always gives them away, because they haven’t quite figured out how to change that yet. Cece laughs, and there’s an edge to it but Camille doesn’t know what that means- did she resent her parents for dragging her around the country when she’d have rather stayed in one place? Was it not fun for her? It’s really not her place to pry, of course. Big changes to your life were not always a good thing though, she understood that. “I suppose it must be cold, compared to Cali.” Cam grins ruefully, “I’m used to it. Boston isn’t quite as cold, but near enough.” And maybe she’d borrow one or two of those coats, just to mix up wearing the same outfits over and over again.

It was no small favor, putting a roof over her head and getting her out of that motel. Camille couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so nice for her- of course, bar telling her colleague what a terrible person Jace had actually turned out to be she couldn’t really remember telling anyone about her problems either, so maybe that was why. “Adam was a fuckboy.” Camille corrects, shaking her head and smiling a little at the memory of him- she was still shocked someone his age would even want to flirt with her, as put on as it was- “Jace was a nasty prick.” She has a sip of wine, like even saying his name makes her mouth feel bad. “So the divorce was great, it’s the marriage that was awful.” That’s half true, the divorce could have also been better, but murder isn’t exactly dinner conversation. “I mean I was dating that guy since high school, we were perfect. Seriously- that best couple superlative thing at prom? We won it.” When life was all fun and games, Jace had been the ideal partner. Charming, likeable, energetic. It was when he realized he couldn’t be the star of the football team his entire life that shit went downhill. “I don’t know what happened. Spent over a decade trying to make him happy, woke up one morning and realized I hated him.” 

Camille wrinkles her nose, twirling more pasta around her fork and taking a bite before she talks again. “Sorry, don’t let me go on about it. It’s over, I’m good. New start.” She scrambles for a lighter topic, “so I know you work with Regan, but what is it that you actually do? Are you her assistant, or something?”

“It’s so fucking cold here, Cam. So. Fucking. Cold.” Even the summers had nothing on LA. Cece had been that annoying teen that spent all day on the bitch and only applied sunscreen once. Her skin wasn’t used to this lack of sunshine. It rebelled against her.

“Fair. At least Adam has a good attitude. I think he’s a himbo.” Cece nodded at herself, liking and accepting the comparison. Adam seemed like the type that respected women while wanting to bone them. Cece could respect that. This Jace dude on the other hand? Seemed like a dumpster fire personified. “Glad you had that epiphany. That freedom must feel so good after all these years. The offer still stands about fucking up his life. I love me a good revenge arch.” 

Camille didn’t seem to love talking about it, and though Cece did figure she’d get the full story eventually, maybe that was a conversation for another day. Maybe after they had been roommates for a longer period of time than a few days. “Me? Regan’s assistant?” Cece rocked her head back and gave a single, loud laugh. “I couldn’t be her assistant. I’d get fired so quickly.” Cece worked for Regan, but her saving grace was that Cece did her own thing at work. “I’m a toxicologist for the medical examiner’s office. It sounds fancy, but I spend most of my day running tests on urine and blood and every other bodily fluid you can imagine. Glamorous stuff, I know.”

Camille chuckled, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t travelled much. Jace and I went to Flora for spring break in classic fashion, Clearwater.” Despite herself she grins a little at the memory- it had been a good time. “I imagine this place might make you feel like an icicle after spending your whole life somewhere with that kind of heat.”

She had never been much of a gossiper, at least not about herself. It was a habit cultivated since high school- top of your class with the star of the football team on your arm? Your life is perfect and you’re the envy of every other kid there. End of story. Don’t tell your friends about the big fight you and Jace had, or how you had to stay up studying until you passed out at your desk to get that high score on the history test. The whole damn reason she worked so hard was so that people never knew that stuff. It was a lot harder to present a perfect facade these days, as a divorced woman with a shitty job, but Cam would do what she could.

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. “A… Himbo? I don’t know what that is.” God, she was so old. She’d never had to say that before. But seriously, himbo? That wasn’t a word. Camille taught english lit! She knew all the words! Camille smirked at the offer, but shook her head. “There’s no one to pay his bills or get him beer out the fridge now, I think that’s probably gonna fuck him up enough.” That, and the fact that he was in jail for killing her. Rotten bastard. Couldn’t exactly tell Cece that, though.

Camille would admit to knowing next to nothing about science, but as an elementary school teacher she had seen the ways they tried to push young girls into softer interests, so she admired women like Regan and Cece who had pursued their passion regardless. “You have to follow what interests you.” She shrugged, “I could easily argue there’s nothing glamorous about teaching kids English lit but I loved it all the same.” It had been a good compromise; her desire to be an author and her love for children. 

“There’s a certain charm in staying still, I think.” Cece admitted. Before she had been forced to leave, Cece had never had much interest in leaving LA. She liked California, liked the atmosphere and the people. Her first time leaving had been more out of necessity and the opportunity to have people help her. That had obviously gone to shit. “But I come from a place of privilege in that. I’ve been able to travel around to get to say that planting roots is better. You might think the opposite.” For what it was worth, besides the fact that her ex husband was a complete fuckwad, she didn’t seem disappointed by the memory.

“Ooh, I get to give you an english lesson? How the turns have tabled.” Cece perked up. It was cute, Cam not knowing what a himbo was. “A himbo is an evolved fuck boy. They’re still stupid, cute jocks. Muscles like a god, but a single brain cell bouncing around that empty skull.” Cece waved her finger around her head as an example, “But they’re actually good people. Himbos don’t fuck with misogyny or homophobia or racism. They mix respect women juice in with their protein shakes.” Cece interrupted her speech by stuffing pasta into her mouth. “Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.”

“Agreed. I can tell you’d be good with kids.” Camille kept a calmness about her, but had a quirkier side that Cece would have to work at pulling out. All in due time. “If you still love teaching so much, have you considered looking at the schools here? Seeing if there are any openings?”

Camille grinned and nodded- she’d had friends who’d taken off after highschool, figured out their way around the globe. Some of them came back changed with all these grand ideas and new goals for their life, others just rolled back into town with no money and no idea what to do next. She’d always figured it didn’t matter where you went, problems followed you anyway. “I always wanted to get settled somewhere myself, have a home and a family…” She trailed off sadly, unable to stop herself from remembering how hopeful she’d once been about it all. Buying that house and decorating with Jace, making plans to turn the spare room into a nursery one day. She shook herself out of the melancholy, taking a long sip from her wine glass. “I nearly went to New York for college, but decided on Boston instead.” Well, settled for. Because Jace got accepted there.

Really their elementary education programs were both wonderful, so it was fine.

She listened attentively as Cece explained the term, lips pulling up into an amused grin. “Oh, it’s a portmanteau!” Cam realized after a moment, “him and bimbo.” She nods, “I get it now. Strong and kind, but not the sharpest stick in the bunch. That’s a good one, I like it.” Had to be a term that the younger generation had coined, she wondered if Cece even realized how common of an english lit practice she’d adopted for her terminology. Cam smiles, “I’ve always liked kids.” Her good mood drops again, quickly, though. Working at a local school… Her identity, all her qualifications and achievements. They belonged to a dead woman, she couldn’t use them now. “It’s something I’ll look into, I think. When things are more settled for me.” She lied, “for the moment I just want to get used to a new town, focus on myself for a bit and what I really want for my future.” After pushing pasta around her plate for a minute Cam looks up, smiling. “What about your future? Is there a step up from a toxicologist, are you thinking about more qualifications? A PhD or something?”

Cece leaned back in her chair and tried to picture that for Camille. Cece herself had never much considered that sort of life for herself. Even back as a teenager, when her life was as normal as a girl growing up in LA could be, the idea of the white picket fence life had always been a bit too cookie cutter for Cece’s lifestyle. Now, Cece wasn’t sure she was cut out for it even if it was something she did want. Too much baggage, maybe. Or too little patience to deal with bullshit. Clearly, Camille had dealt with her fair share if she was no longer living the married life. “You’re still pretty damn young. No reason you shouldn’t be able to still have that. And this time we’ll make sure they’re not a giant bag of dicks disguised as a high school sweetheart.”

“A portman-who?” Cece questioned, eyebrow raising and a smirk crossing her lips. Cece wasn’t much for this shit, but loved Camille’s excitement about it. What an english teacher thing to do. “Yeah for sure. Let me know if I can help with anything. I have no connections to the school, but the two of us together? I bet we could charm the hell out of anyone we need.” Camille seemed to be over the conversation and promptly flipped it around back to Cece, questioning the career that Cece hadn’t given much thought to by herself. “Hmm… not where I am currently, not really. Working for a private company would probably get me more money. Or I could try to get in with the university. Write papers and teach some classes if I really wanted. I’m happy where I am though.” The idea of getting a doctorate was honestly hilarious to Cece and she couldn’t help the laugh building up before eventually bursting free, “God, no. Can you imagine? I couldn’t imagine expecting people to call me Doctor Bishop. I’m not pretentious enough.” 

Camille had spent years working towards the next milestone. Graduate highschool, then college, then start the perfect life. Had it all fallen apart so spectacularly to send her a sign? Was she pushing so hard to get something she couldn’t have? There were people everywhere with happy families, and she’d put so much damn effort into having hers. Was the world mocking her? Rip it all away and send her back to square one, just to see if she does the same stupid stuff all over again.

Well, maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d say sod the man and sod the family and just do whatever made her happy! If she could figure out what that was. Was it marriage and kids? Not right now. Honestly the idea of being alone in a house with a man was the last thing she wanted right now. But one day, probably. She giggled a little at Cece’s choice phrasing, “well, if I meet someone I think is charming I’ll make sure to have them screened by you just to be sure.”

“A portmanteau.” She repeated, “a blend of two words. Y’know, brunch, podcast, smog, himbo.” Cam’s glad she doesn’t mind the shift in conversation- she would like to know more about the schools here, and how she might go about getting work in them, but there was no point giving that sort of stuff any of her time until she had the essentials figured out. Would Cece know anyone who could get her an ID? Regan was staunchly against helping Camille with anything illegal, but hopefully her new friend wasn’t quite so rigid as that, and willing to keep a secret. “It’s not about pretention, it’s about qualification.” Camille argued, “a doctorate would open up a lot of opportunities, if you were interested. I don’t think it’s pretentious to value your education.” Cece was so young, and already trying to strike off paths for her future without really considering them. “If teaching ever did interest you I could offer some pointers. Though I’ve never taught a university class, my advice might be a little too juvenile.” 

“I’ll happily screen any of your potential love interests. I have a rigorous testing regiment to ensure only the most worthy pass through. The others are sent away, broken of hearts and blue of balls.” Cece stated it wistfully as if she were writing it in some victorian style letter. She rested her face into the palms of her hands and stared in wonder at Camille as she defined and even provided examples of a portmanteau. “I love it when you talk literary devices to me. Very hot for teacher vibes.” 

Camille seemed passionate about Cece keeping her options open for this higher education thing. Honestly, Cece had never considered a doctorate as a viable career path for her. Completing her degree while constantly travelling had been enough of a handful. Trying to deal with four more years of schooling just had not seemed possible. But Cece wasn’t a wanderer anymore. She had settled down in an area with a good job, better connections and a college close to her. It was certainly something to consider, even if it didn’t sound like much fun. “Okay mom. I’ll keep my options open.” Cece couldn’t see herself teaching younger students. Not for any specific reasons, just because her specific interests in toxicology tended to be more specialized than elementary, middle or even most high schools tended to offer. “Please, I guarantee your job was a hundred times harder than anything a college professor deals with. I’d take your advice over them anyday.”

Camille wasn’t even sure what dating was like these days. How did you meet people? There were all the apps, but that seemed so impersonal. Was she meant to go to a bar? The first and last person to sidle up to her at such a location was Adam and they’d already gone through why that was a bad idea- oh god, was White Crest like a college town? Was she even going to find any viable older men here? Must start paying more attention to the morning coffee crowd to find out. She chuckled and shook her head, “funnily enough I don’t think it’s the kind of come on that’s going to work in the real world. I’m gonna have to figure out some new moves.” 

In highschool her move had just been walking right up to Jace by his locker one day and asking him if he wanted to ask her to the dance, and that had been that. Probably wasn’t the way to go about things as an adult. She sighed and stabbed her fork back into the pasta, “I’m just saying, you’re too young to be closing doors like that. You don’t have to do it right now obviously, but it might be something to consider later down the line.” Though teaching specifically was something Cam believed you should only get into if you were truly passionate about it- too many teachers did it for the wrong reasons and that was how you ended up with miserable classrooms. “Ah, true. I doubt many professors have had to explain to their students why they shouldn’t eat paper. I’d be happy to advise though, with further study and all that stuff, I do love a good excuse for a pros and cons list.” Plus helping with this kind of decision just felt like another way to balance the scales between the two of them, and Camille wanted the excuse to reminisce. She pushed her empty bowl to the side a little, “you’ll figure out what you want, anyway. You’ve got time.” 

Time- how much did Camille have? What would Cece do if she found out the truth? What if someone from Boston found out, or her parents decided to visit White Crest for a weekend? “I think I’m gonna have another glass of wine.” She decided, pushing out of her chair to retrieve the bottle from the fridge, “do you want one?”

“I’ll be your wingwoman any night. Once you want to get back out there.” Cece wiggled her eyebrows, always encouraging a one night stand or two to blow off some steam. It hadn’t been Cece’s style lately, a bit of her party years getting more than enough attention while she was with the coven. But Camille had been with the same man for years, and he sounded like a bit of a prick. She could probably benefit from a few wild nights to get her mind off of things. And Cece would be a bad friend if she didn’t tag along to make sure everything went smoothly.

When Camille broke the conversation for wine, Cece was more than happy to oblige. There had been way too much talk about the future tonight. Cece was trying to live day to day here in town. Thinking about what the future could hold was way too depressing. “Please, if there’s one thing you should learn about me it’s that you never have to ask if I want more wine.” Cece laughed, downing the rest of her glass and sliding it over towards Camille for a refill. “If you remember that then you and I are going to be the best of friends.”

[illdesigns]

3 H ☁ for mags/pickle? 8)

fic prompts - (jail cell, blackout, lipstick)

It hadn’t been Pickles’ first time in a cell. Or the first time he woke up in one completely unaware of how he had gotten there in the first place. It had just been the first time in a while. The fact that he hadn’t experienced that level of disorientation in a while threw him off. And the realization that he didn’t exactly have a ton of Snakes ‘n’ Barrels money or fame for possible bail set him on edge. He hoped that it was for something minor, just a regular public intoxication, not resisting arrest or armed robbery or some horseshit that might actually take him to court or prison. Again, the money that could help clear this up in a good out of court settlement was far, far from his fingertips at this point.

The sound of a different cell door opening had woken him up. Pickles rubbed his eyes and inhaled sharply. The conversation and lights and smells all flew around like little cartoon birds around his head before settling in his skull to nest painfully. The feeling of nausea and sluggishness associated with a hangover-inducing migraine made him lurch forward for a second, rub his face and smack dry lips.

He sat there for a moment, face in his hands, trying to focus. Phones rang. The distant sound of crying bounced off tile. Muted conversations he heard two words of at best. And right next to him, at his side, a snore. A thin, high one that ended in a click. A snore that was oddly comforting in its immediate familiarity - considering how Pickles would usually wake up to it at three in the morning. Usually accompanied by a nightmare of being eaten alive by a snake, or strangled by vines, only to find long limbs wrapped around him and hair that was not his in his face and mouth. And the source of the snore’s face pressed against him, breathing hotly on his skin and whining at any attempt Pickles made at prying himself free.

Pickles looked down next to him and saw the source in the flesh. Right now, it was a lump of curls with long legs stretched out the length of the bench, boot-clad feet dangling off the edge. He groaned and sat up against the concrete wall before reaching a hand out to shake the lump’s shoulder.

“Magnus,” Pickles muttered. “Magnus. Magnus? Magnus!”

“Five more minutes,” was the muffled response, Magnus’ face buried in the jacket bunched under his head in a makeshift pillow. A hand reached out from under his body to swat Pickles’ away in annoyance.

“Five fuckin’ nothin’, dude, wake your ass up,” he hissed in annoyance. “We’re in jail, dipshit.”

“What?” Magnus jolted awake, legs kicking out, head lifting up to look around at their surroundings. At the realization they were, in fact, in jail, he groaned. “Ohhh, fuck…”

“Yeah, oh fuck!” Pickles replied incredulously. “You know what happened?”

“No? You...don’t?” Magnus heaved himself up with a grunt, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. “Shit.”

Pickles inspected him for clues. He couldn’t see himself, but if he saw his apparent partner in crime, there might be a hint as to how they got here. A vivid bruise was forming on Magnus’ cheek but beyond that, he looked normal. His hair was wild and puffed out like an annoyed cat, his shirt was annoyingly unbuttoned three buttons too far and-

“The fuck’s this?” Pickles asked suddenly, jabbing an accusing finger at his chest.

Black lipstick. Everywhere. On his face, on his neck, leading down into his shirt. Magnus looked down at himself, rubbed one of the marks and looked at his fingers. Pickles rubbed his own lips and saw the back of his hand come back clean. That wasn’t his.

“Lipstick?” said Magnus with a cautious tone. Pickles crossed his arms and sucked his teeth, making Magnus roll his eyes. “We’re not arguing about this of all fuckin’ things right now! And you, you’re covered in the shit too!”

He dragged another finger across Pickles’ face and showed it to him. Red. Okay, fine. What’s good for the goose was good for the...other...goose. But that doesn’t negate the fact that there was an implication of two missing people in this equation. One of whom was wearing black lipstick and was going to get a thorough fucking talking to if Pickles got his hands on them. Pickles looked around at the slumped over drunks and surly faces that were their new roommates. None of them struck Pickles as his type and while Magnus had lower standards, their faces were bare too.

“Mag. Don’t fuck with me. If you remember anything, tell me, dude!” Pickles begged. He didn’t even care about the lipstick at this point. He just wanted some kind of answer. “Even if it involves you new lil’ girlfriend or whatever-”

“Man, if you don’t shut the fuck up about this I’m kicking a drum in when we get home,” snapped Magnus in turn. “Like, what if we had a foursome, lucky us! So drop it. We need to...call...someone…”

Pickles decided he was going to pout. That was an easier solution than trying to figure out how they got into this mess, or how they would get out. A hand found his knee, which he jerked away pettily, pulling a heavy sigh from Magnus. They sat like that in silence for a moment. For a long moment, it seemed, as Pickles found himself blinking and opening his eyes to someone being escorted out of the cell. It was cold. He still had a headache. He was sore. And now he was cold on top of everything.

The cold was okay. But the chills that his hangover gave him on top of everything was almost embarrassing, feelings as if everyone could hear his teeth chatter over the commotion going around them. But he sat and suffered and wondered where his jacket went. It was October, so he had to have worn it out. That was his good jacket with the fun patches. He was going to be so mad if he couldn’t fucking find it again. It was probably already lost forever.

The shivering was offset by the feeling of denim being tucked around his shoulders. Pickled was jerked out of his thinking and he slipped his arms inside the sleeves. They fell over his hands like a kid playing dress up, but it was warm. And smelled like cigarettes and sandalwood and sweat and...Magnus.

“Thanks,” Pickles said softly, cowed by the simple gesture into dropping his anger. Magnus grunted in response. “Thank youuuu.”

“Welcome,” was the reply. Magnus looked over at Pickles and cocked a brow. “You still pissed off at me for something you did too?”

Pickles blinked.

“No,” he grumbled. “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Magnus chuckled as he spoke, nudging Pickles’ foot with his own. Pickles nudged in turn. Jail footsies wasn’t what he pictured when he said yes to the offer of dropping acid and watching Star Wars as a date a few months ago, but it somehow felt fitting. “Very grown of you, Pickles.”

Before Pickles could say something back, the cell door rolled up.

“Hammersmith? And…” the officer sighed. “Drummer? Bail’s posted.”

“Oh, thank fuck! Me! Us!” Pickles yelped, jumping up and waving awkwardly like it was a roll call.

“You call someone?” asked Magnus as they walked out. Pickles shook his head, slipping his arm in Magnus’ to draw him close. “I didn’t. Who the hell-”

“Me,” a voice rumbled next to them, making them both jump. “You uh...you called me. For some reason.”

The source and their savior was a very displeased, very sleepy Nathan Explosion. Who was standing trying to look stern despite his grogginess in a stained hoodie and pajama pants. Pickles started in surprise, looking up at Magnus for an answer, who shrugged.

“So, you thought drowing in a goddamn fountain was gonna go well, Pickles? Or spitting at a fuckin’ cop, Magnus?” scolded Nathan. “And don’t you two have any other friends? Shit, we’ve hung out three times, y’all.”

So that’s what happened. Why the kid they knew through their dealer was the first number in either of their brains was yet another question they didn’t have the answers for. Or why he posted their bail. Or why they both felt properly reprimanded by someone who was probably in middle school when they were graduating. But things just happen.

“We do, but! Thanks man!” Pickles said happily, reaching out to pat Nathan on the shoulder. “You’re a good one. Our new best friend.”

Nathan rolled his eyes, trying to tug the smile on his face back into a frown. Pickles chuckled to himself as he reached inside of Magnus’ jacket to steal his cigarettes, if he still had them, pulling out a piece of paper instead.

Had a real fun time. Call us. Staci and Luna. XOXOXO.

“Hey!” the call jolted Pickles from his thoughts before he could even process what he was looking at.

The three turned their heads to the source of the sound. Faces pressed against the bars of the next to where Magnus and Pickles had been, two women peered out at them with wide grins. And smeared red and black lipstick on their mouths. One shook her extended thumb and pinky against her head and mouthed “Call me!” while the other blew a kiss. Nathan whistled a sharp note, nodding his approval when Magnus and Pickles looked back at him.

“Good job,” he said before patting Magnus’ arm. “Let’s get you guys home.”

The cold night air was more than welcome when they stepped out into it. The smell of falling leaves, crisp autumn and freedom. Nathan jerked his head at the beat up pickup parked in front of the station and popped the seat back for one of them. Pickles climbed in the back, immediately regretting the decision when both seats were crammed against him to make room for two sets of long legs. But it didn’t matter. If he remembered right, their apartment wasn’t too far away, and it was made alright when a hand reached into the back and found his knee. He smiled and set his own hand on top of it. Nathan gazed into the backseat for a second, eyes scanning Pickles’ face before looking down at the obvious affection, and cocked his head before starting the truck.

“Ohhh!” he said after a few minutes of silence, making both Magnus and Pickles turn tired gazes at him. “Your apartment only has one room!”

They really shouldn’t have laughed. He did drive out in the middle of the night and bust them out. But it couldn’t be helped.

[wwilloww]

SH. (they/them v.) | jjk

THIS VERSION IS WRITTEN WITH THEY/THEM PRONOUNS. YOU CAN READ WITH SHE/HER PRONOUNS HERE

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader (they/them) ft. OT7

RATING: Explicit.

GENRE: NonIdol!Au. Wilderness!Au. f2l. Smut. Fluff.

WC: 6k

SUMMARY: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

WARNINGS: YN is a cuddling fiend. Untimely boner. Handjob. Nipple play. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Size kink. Slight voyeurism. Power play. Dirty talk.

AN: This is a little bit of a test for a potentially longer series. So please please please tell me what you think, what you wanna see, what you think is going to happen!! 💕😉

This version is also a bit of a test. As someone who identifies with multiple pronouns and who has varying levels of comfort/discomfort reading certain reader insert depictions, this felt like the right thing to do with this story. I’m happy to hear your experience with it! 

THIS IS GOING TO BE FILTHY STRAIGHT DIRTY FILTH

BAD PLOT ALERT AHEAD

Thank you to @hauntedlilies​ and @hesperantha​ for being the most beautiful beta readers ever. And of course, millions of kisses and hugs and thanks to the loveliest @thatlongspringnight​ for going off a cliff with me last night and helping me to plan ahead.

next chapter ->

|| join the taglist || masterlist || read with she/her pronouns ||

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

Chapter One

“Shh, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you really want them to hear?”

Still, you can’t help the little “Oh,” that slips from you when he drags his cock out of you oh so dangerously slow and then rams back in.

Each thrust pushes you up against the kitchen counter.

The rest of the boys are in the other room, the movie playing not quite loud enough, filling the space of the previously lazy Friday night.

God, he feels so fucking good inside you. And yet, you hadn’t meant it to happen like this.

You’d always said that summer was your favorite season. But as you watch the light begin to fade from the sky, baby blue transforming into gold flakes of light that whirl across the gravel road, you think you might just have to change your mind.

The light glows and flickers through the pine trees as your car climbs the final hill to your destination. You begin searching for the cabin, although it’s nowhere in sight.

It’s the first day of a season away in the mountains. Two weeks ago your roommate, Namjoon, had bumbled into your tiny city bedroom, and just stood there for a moment before asking if you liked the mountains.

“Sure I do,” you replied.

He grinned. “Would you ever want to live there?”

“I mean— yeah, but like, work and quarantine and—”  

“Aren’t you working from home?”

“Yeah.”

“And haven’t we been quarantined — more or less — for six months?”

“Yes…” you said slowly.

“Then if those are your only hesitations, it’s settled!”

You’d stood from your little bed at that point. “What are you on about Namjoon?”

“I got a house in the mountains.”

“You got a house? In the mountains?”

“Details, buddy, details. I’m going, for a month or two — but probably until the spring. And I’d love it if you came with me.”  

It was as simple as that.

An offer, presented and received.

Perhaps six months locked away in your tiny city apartment had done you a bit of good. Decisions which you once might have weighed against reasonability or responsibility seemed to fall away. Instead, you did what you needed to do and the rest was up to whim and will. In recent weeks, you noticed it in the smaller things too. Eating when hungry. Moving when restless. Searching out company — virtually or in the form of your very large, but not very cuddly roommate — when lonely.

So when Namjoon offered you a season spent away from the prison walls of your tiny shared apartment, there was no hesitation.

“It’s all taken care of,” he had said with a gentle shoulder nudge when you persistently bugged him about chipping in. “Don’t worry about it.”

And even better than that, Namjoon had somehow rounded up your friends — even Yoongi who no one could tear away from his studio equipment.

The boys had already spent a night up at the cabin while you wrapped up some things in the city, packed a duffle bag, and headed out towards the great, yawning wilderness.

You were excited to see them. Quarantine had left you with little opportunity to spend quality time with your friends, and after 6 months in isolation with your roommate you were socially starved, and frankly, touch starved too. Namjoon tolerated your morning hugs, but the two of you weren’t really on the same page in terms of sharing physical affection the rest of the time.

Still scanning the trees for a cute lil log cabin, your eyes widen in shock as a building comes into view.

This is no cabin.

Before you stretches a beautiful home, designed with a graceful balance of smooth stonework, warm wood, and modern glass. A long driveway winds up a gentle hill. Are you sure you put the right address in? You think as you pull up in front of the house. But through the windows, you can see Jimin standing, waving at you.

What the actual fuck.

You park the car at the foot of the stairs leading up to the house, unbuckle the food from the passenger seat (would you dare risk the safety of Jungkook’s dinner?), and ascend the stairs. The door before you stands twice your height. Wrought iron vines tangle across a warm, dark wood. Just as you’re about to attempt to knock with your elbow, the door swings open.

“Baby!! You made it!”

You’re barely in the door, arms full of takeout, when he comes to wrap around you. It’s like all the time between you has washed away, replaced by the laughter bubbling through your chest. It’s been months since you saw your friend, months since you were held like this. It’s so easy to melt into his touch.

“Not your baby,” you correct, although you smile at the embrace.

“Not yet,” Hoseok teases back. “You know I would give you exactly what you need.”

“Is that a proposition?”

“I’m always propositioning you, it seems.”

You twist around to properly raise your brow at your teasing friend.

“Mhmm, seems like it.”

He winks at you, a playful smile teasing at his features. He bends down to press a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and kind of sways you back and forth. You stumble a bit, still carrying the heavy bags of food, but he holds tight to you anyways.

“Is this all you brought?” Hobi murmurs against you. “Just food? For the whole week? No clothes?”

You laugh. “My bags are in the car. I just figured you all would want to get your greedy little paws in some dinner first.”

“You brought food?” Jungkook peaks his head in from the living room.

“You didn’t think I would forget, did you?”

“You always know exactly how to take care of us, don’t you?” Jungkook comes to grab the three bags of takeout from your hands while Hobi still clings to your back like a koala.

“C’mon, Hobi, lemme go.”

As soon as the words leave you though, you regret it. He loosens his grip on you and the cool wash of the autumn air washes in through the still-open door behind you, replacing the warmth of his touch.  

“Promise you’ll be my cuddle buddy during the movie?”

“Course.”

How could you say no?

Perhaps that’s exactly where it all started. With them, there was nothing you wanted to say no to.

After a boisterous dinner, dishes being passed to and fro, jokes being shouted above the racket, more than one glass of wine downed — you all slump on the couches, full and exhausted and content.

“Movie?” Jungkook suggests, one leg thrown over you as you lean into Taehyung’s chest. He strokes your hair gently and you swear you could fall asleep like this, blissed out and wrapped in his arms.

“PJs first,” Jin declares from the kitchen, emerging as he wipes his hands with a dishtowel.

“Ugh, thank god,” you groan, sitting up from the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing jeans,” Jungkook laughs. “What kind of world do you think you’re living in?”

“Obviously one where we put effort into our appearance,” Jimin sings, eyeing Jungkook’s oversized holey t-shirt and sweatpants combo.

“Fine,” Jungkook says. “I’ll change.”

“Where, uh, where should I change?”  

“Bedroom?” Yoongi cuts in, not even removing his eyes from his phone screen.

“Oh!” Jimin claps his hands together, turning back to face you. “We saved the best for you. Well, for you and Hobi.”

“Hm?”

“The master suite. There weren’t enough beds — and we figured a king-sized bed for two would be better than the couch for one?”

Hobi chips in: “Unless, of course, you’re uncomfortable, in which case I’ll sleep on the—”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, stopping him in his tracks. “Nothing wrong with a lil more warmth in the world.”

“Good,” Jimin nods. “We figured putting the two of you cuddle freaks together anyways would be best for our sanity too.”

You sling the duffle bag you left waiting by the front door over your shoulder and follow your friend down a long glass hallway. The night has painted the exterior dark, but as you look down, you realize that the glass above and on either side of you is also beneath you. You’re walking over a bottomless bridge, the swirling darkness beneath you seeming to reach up towards you.

A squeal escapes you and you lunge forward, grasping onto Hobi’s arm.

“Shit!” You basically drag him forward, refusing to let go of him but desperate to get off of the glass floor. He chuckles at you but complies.

“Don’t worry, I got you. I freaked the first time too.”

He wraps you up again in his arms and more or less waddles you forward to where the hardwood begins again.

“See? All safe!”

Heat floods your cheeks as you look back down the long glass hallway.

“It looks a little less terrifying on the other side of it,” you sheepishly admit.

Hoseok chuckles and tugs you forward. You enter a large bedroom. Atop a large platform sits an extra large white bed with throws and pillows. You drop your bag and sprint towards the bed, launching yourself so that you land square in the center.

“Ah,” you sigh, taking what you think might be your first deep breath of the day. You spread your arms and legs out as if about to make snow angels. You prop your head up and take a look around the room while Hobi pads over to a large closet where he seems to already have unpacked.

The room is surrounded on two sides by entirely glass walls. The light that spills from the lamps that have already been lit makes it so beyond the walls, everything looks pitch black. Lush, fluffy carpets are scattered around the room, and in the corner is a small personal library, a little couch, and an armchair. And in the very center of the room is what you can only imagine to be an indoor fire pit.

Hobi throws a t-shirt in your face, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Get changed, slowpoke. I’ll take the bathroom.”

While Hobi changes in the bathroom you pull on the large t-shirt he threw at you and a pair of sleep shorts. While you wait on him, you scroll through your phone.

“Do you know what lies behind this door?” Hobi calls from the bathroom.

“What? No? Isn’t it a bathroom?”

“J-Hope’s hot body!�� Your jaw drops before you are letting your phone fall to the mattress beneath you and laughing hysterically. He peeks his head out the door. He’s not wearing a shirt and you swallow quickly as you graze over the soft slope of his shoulders and the chiseled valley of his collar bones.  “Aren’t you curious?”

You quickly right yourself.

“Course I’m curious!” you laugh. “Who wouldn’t be curious?”

He grins at you. Sends you a wink.

“All you gotta do is ask, babe.”

“Get dressed, dummy.”

“Dummy that you love,” Hoseok corrects.

“Yes, my beloved little dummy.”

You wave him off and, taking your phone, head out back to the living room.

Jungkook plops down on the couch where he was before, next to you. You’re not sure if you’re hallucinating after so many months apart from your friends, but it seems like he’s hovering. He sat next to you at dinner. Insisted on you staying in the kitchen while he washed the dishes to chat with him. He was waiting for you in the glass hallway too after you had changed, leaning casually as if he had just stumbled in — but other than the master suite, there was nothing on the other side of the bridge. He had been waiting for you.

“I missed you,” he says, a soft smile spreading over his features.

“I missed you too.”

“It’s been weird not having everyone around all the time—”

“--Too quiet.”

“Exactly.”

Your impulse is to ask him where he’s been, what he’s done — but you know. The eight of you have kept in touch regularly over quarantine. Your group chat, while filled with memes, has kept all of you updated on your daily routines for the past six months. You know where he’s been all these months, what he’s done, and yet there is still a new kind of distance.

You think he feels it too because he’s soon opening his arms, inviting you. You crawl over the couch to him and he wraps his limbs around you, cocooning you in a strange but nonetheless comfortable position.

As you sigh and settle into his embrace, you realize he feels like a new man.

There is a quiet kind of confidence to him that you hadn’t noticed before. An ability to sit still and silently and find comfort in that.

God, it’s sexy.

What? Your eyes shoot open at the thought. But before you can do anything about it, Hobi is tripping into the living room. His smile falters when he sees you and Jungkook all wrapped up.

“They promised—”

“I know,” you groan, sitting up from Jungkook. He frowns at the loss of contact. “Come ‘ere.” You reach your arms out towards Hoseok, but instead of joining you and Jungkook he hooks his arms around you and pulls you into his chest as he sits down.

“Like a little ragdoll,” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m not a doll,” you huff, only upset at just how easy Hobi was able to haul your body across the couch.

“A little bit of a doll.”

Hobi wraps his arms around you as you lean back into him. You’d always end up like this with the young man, one of the two wrapped around the other. It was well known that out of all of your friends, the two of you were the most touchy. However, sometimes it seemed like more than that, as the two of you almost always gravitated towards each other in any group setting. It was just as simple as that. Hobi was by your side, no matter what.

The others come to settle into the living room, setting up in various levels of absolute exhaustion, tangled limbs, or apathy.

Namjoon scrolls through a couple of movies before settling on a title with lots of cars and noise.

The movie starts. Fast and Furious blares through the speakers, startling you slightly. One of those fancy, high-paced car movies. Despite the blasting of stuttering ignitions and roaring of top speed chases, you quickly find yourself drifting off, wrapped in the warmth of Hobi’s embrace.

A particularly loud car engine roars through the speaker and you startle awake.

Jungkook is stretched out lazily, one leg on the sofa, the other leg on the floor. As your eyes trail down his body — collarbone peeking out from his far too large t-shirt, forearms somehow still perfectly defined — you gasp softly when you see what’s tenting in his pants.

Fuck.

He has a boner. Between the thick spread of his thighs, the outline of his more than girthy cock presses up against the fabric of the grey sweatpants. He has a boner from a car chase.

He seems unbothered, unaware, even. You, however, are anything but.

Involuntarily, your mouth begins to water. The shock of seeing him like this reels through you. All you can think of is what it would be like to lean forward just enough, hands sliding up the hard muscle of his tights until your fingertips reached the elastic band of his waist. You wanted to dip your fingers underneath, wrap your hand around the thick girth of him, and lower your lips perfectly around the pink head. You want to sit on that cock, feel the way he fills you up and stretches you so—-

Jungkook catches your gaze. Heat rises to your face, a mix of embarrassment and arousal. As he takes you in, he smiles a little bit and lets his hand tral down his torso to fiddle with the band of his sweatpants.

Fuck.

You can’t be here. Can’t be imagining these kinds of things. Before you can think of what you’re doing, you’re rolling off of Hobi, a sound of question resonating from his chest.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, tripping out of the living room and around the corner to the kitchen.

What the actual fuck. What is wrong with you?

You can’t stop the images that flood your mind. Jungkook, towering above you, while you kneel at his feet, cock framed so perfected by your pouted lips.

All you want is to slip underneath the thick duvet of your bed and press the soft silicon head of your vibrator against your clit, working away at the unbearable tension that has built within you until you come. That’s not an option though, as you know tonight you’ll be climbing into bed with Hobi and the glee you first felt when being paired with your favorite cuddle buddy is now entirely by your frustration.

Head spinning, you grab your phone and begin to type into an empty message box.

This dude has a fucking boner, and all I can think of is stuffing it down my fucking THROAT.

What? Who are you going to text that to? Not Hobi, that’s for sure. And you’re sure your friends back home will simply shake their head at your message and respond with a series of question marks.

You shake your phone to delete the message and set it down on the counter. Turning your back, you head to the sink to pour yourself a big glass of water. Maybe some damn hydration will do something to quench this thirsty ass bitch, you think.

The water helps a little, and you gulp it down greedily.

Still, it's as if the image of Jungkook’s fat cock has been burned in the back of your mind.

You sigh and put the glass back down by the sink, looking out the bay window that sprawls over the counter.

You’ve never seen darkness quite like this. Without the lights of the city and with a new moon singing in the sky it seems as if the only light in your little world is that which shines from the house. All that you can really see is the vague silhouette of the mountains surrounding you and your own reflection. God, if only Jungkook were behind you, ramming into you at his own pleasure while you watched the reflection of him chasing his orgasm—

“Who’s cock are you wanting to shove down your throat?”

You freeze, hands curling into fists on the countertop.

“What?” you barely manage to breathe. Slowly, you turn.

Jungkook is standing at the entrance to the kitchen, your still-lit phone sitting on the countertop.

Without considering what you’re doing, your eyes flicker down to the still-prominent bulge in his pants. The gaze lasts only a moment. Half a second tops. It’s long enough to notice the way he strains so deliciously against the soft grey fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock clearly outlined against the material. And it’s also long enough for Jungkook to catch exactly where you’re looking.

“Wh— oh.” His lips purse perfectly around the vowel, understanding dawning.

Your mind chugs at hyperspeed, clunking through no reasonable explanation to offer a Jungkook who just very clearly caught you checking his dick out — the same dick you were just about to send a very steamy text about.

“I—” Your voice trails off into nothingness as you grip even tighter to the counter behind you. What is there to say?

“You?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow and takes a step towards you, a smirk playing on his features. “Hm?” His voice has dropped, resonating deep through you, any trace of questioning erased from his tone. “You saw my cock and the first thing you think is to text your friends about how you want to stuff it down your throat?”

“No?”

“So it was a joke then?”

“No, no!” You begin to say Not a joke, I wouldn’t joke about that — but you stop yourself before the damning words can slip your mouth.

He tilts his head to the side, just a bit, and comes to lean against the island, several feet away from you. You can’t help but suck in a deep breath at the divine swirl of playfulness and danger in his gaze. He notes your tight grip on the counter, knuckles turning white.

“I’m not mad at you. A little surprised. Pleasantly so.”

“Pleasantly?”

“It’s a pretty little compliment to have someone you like wanna suck your dick.”

Your eyes widen. “Like?”

He speaks your name slow with a hint of boredom in his voice. “Seriously?”

“Seriously what?”

Jungkook smiles softly at you. “Sometimes you can be so blind.”

“I am not blind,” you huff, crossing your arms over each other.

“For certain things,” he smirks, “It seems you can see just just fine.”

He steps closer to you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean — I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I —”

“I’m not uncomfortable in the slightest.”

“You’re not?”

You look up at him. There’s something dark, deep swirling in his gaze, and that playful smirk you know all too well dancing in the corner of his lips.

“I just want to know why.”

“I mean—” He raises his eyebrow at you. “It’s been a really long and lonely time in quarantine. Can you blame me?” Rather than bringing closure to the situation, every word you speak only seems to heighten your anxiousness, your speech speeding up, words falling over one another. “Y’all are so fucking hot and I forgot! I forgot, okay! I forgot how to regulate my goddamn libido and my thoughts and forgot what it’s like to be fuc—”

You slap you hand over your mouth.

“You forgot what it’s like to be fucked?” Jungkook laughs.

You pout a little. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not laughing,” he chortles. He is laughing. “I’m just—” he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “--just thinking that I know exactly what you mean and I — you know,”  His hand glides up his chest to rub at his collar bone. His signature nervous tick. He’s still laughing, only nervously now. “You know. You know?”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes for a moment. You watch as his chest rises, falls, eyelashes fluttering open again. Suddenly he’s leaning in, both hands on either side of you.

“If it’s a lie—”

“If what’s a lie?”

His nervousness is quickly replaced with the playful smirk you’re so familiar with. “Did you mean it when it was a joke or when you said you wanted to — what was it? — stuff your throat with my cock?”

You gulp.

Now or never, babe.

Quickly, before you can doubt it, you nod.

He grins.

“I have a proposition then.”

“First Hobi, now you?”

“What? What did Hobi say?”

“Nothing — forget it.”

“Okay…” His brow furrows.

“Forget it,” you repeat.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, reading each other’s gaze, trying to calculate exactly what the next step is. Surprisingly, you’re the first one to act, reaching out until your fingertips find the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You twist your fingers into it, not pulling him towards you by any means, but still, pushing him on.

“Proposition me,” you say, the nervousness gone from your voice.

His brows shoot up in surprise, but your gentle touch and the confidence in your voice seems to spur him onwards. “Well,” he starts slowly. “Considering you’re half the reason I’m even in this position—” He steps forward, just enough that you can feel his hardness press into your belly. He puts both hands on the counter on either side of you and leans into you. “I say we just sort this out here and now.”

“What are you saying?” you tease, twisting the fabric of his shirt into your hand, pulling him closer.

“I’m saying, let me fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” He’s so close that when he speaks, his breath brushes against your lips. “Are you going to let me kiss you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum against him.

He dives in like a starving man, lips pressing hard against yours. His hands begin on your side and slide around to press into your lower, back, pressing you tightly against him.

“Here?”

“Why not?”

You grin.

Your hands begin to trail down his torso, fingers tracing the outline of his abs, which, you think in passing, are far too defined to be real after six months of quarantine without gym access. You reach the band of his sweatpants and don’t hesitate to dip underneath.

Fingers trace over bare skin and you’re surprised to find — he’s not wearing any boxers at all. Your heart rate picks up as you realize he’s been walking around all evening, cock hanging free beneath nothing but a thin layer of grey sweatpants.

Just by pulling slightly at the band of his sweatpants, the head of his cock pokes up, caught between the fabric and his torso. With a wink, you push Jungkook back just enough so that he steps back a couple of paces, moving until his back hits the wall.

“Can I touch you?” you ask sweetly.

He nods, furiously. Reaching down to wrap your fingers delicately around his length, your eyes widen as you realize just how large he is.

Your hand barely even wraps around the girth of him.

His eyes flutter as your grip tightens around him.

“Shit,” he breathes.

Ever so slowly, ever so lightly you begin to stroke up and down the silky skin of his shaft. You watch as pleasure flickers across his face — always transparent, always easy to read. You’d always admired that about him, how he wore his emotions for the world to see. But getting to see the pleasure you caused, you created, worn on his delicate features is nothing like anything you’d ever experienced before.

With a slight twist of your wrist, you have him exhaling sharply.

“Jesus fucking christ, it’s a whole new world with someone else’s hand.”

You begin to drop to your knees, wanting to take him into your mouth. But he’s quick to stop you, hands coming to grip your elbow.  

“Fuck,” he hisses. “It’s been too long— if you keep going like that I’m not going to last very long.” He pulls you back up towards him.

You frown at him, almost comically.

“I promise you’ll have another opportunity to suck my dick,” he chuckles, reaching up to pinch your chin. “That is, if you want to do this again.” He presses his lips to yours and your frown is quickly disappearing as he now takes his turn to trail a hand down from your chin. You shiver as he skates around your chest, as he brushes up against your hardened nipples, protruding through your worn-out sleep shirt.

“Stop teasing me,” you whisper, and he grins at you.

“Am I moving too slow?”

“Torturously sl—” Your speech is cut off as he takes a clothed nipple between his fingers and twists, just enough. Your back arches into his touch, and before you know what’s happening, he’s slipping an arm around your lower back and twirling you around so that suddenly it’s you against the cold marble of the island, Jungkook pressing into you.

He kisses you furiously, lips moving against yours as if he’s searching for something.

“What about the others?” you whisper against him.

“What about them?” Jungkook’s hand traces down your torso and comes to tease the band of your sleep shorts. He looks at you, brow raised — a question of permission. You nod, bring your hand down atop his, and guide it underneath your shorts. “I asked you a question,” he says, as his fingers finally dip into your wetness. He slides one finger along your folds. The touch is delicate but the shock of the sensation has you arching into him.

“More, please,” you gasp.

He circles your entrance with a firm touch, before slipping one finger into you. You do your best not to wantonly grind down onto his hand, but you can’t help your hips as they buck up into him when he curls his finger. It’s still not enough though.

“I asked you a question.”

“Kook— please.”

“Answer and I’ll give you exactly what you want. What about the others?” Your mouth gapes open as he adds a second finger and hooks them both against that delicious soft spot within you, so he continues for you. “Do you want them to know I have you underneath me like this? Hm? Do you want them to see you so fucked out with the smallest amount of touch?”

You whimper at his words, but manage to speak, “Right now, just want you.”

He grins. Leans close, right up against your ear and whispers:

“Then why don’t you do your best and stay quiet like a good girl?”

Your mouth drops open at the term of endearment just in time for him to begin thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You bite down on your lip to stop the squeal that threatens to break loose from you.

“God you look perfect,” he whispers. “You fall apart so easily.”

“Mmf,” is all you manage to get out.

And then, all of a sudden, his fingers are ripped out of you and all you feel is empty, sensation lost, the trails of pleasure disappearing as fast as sand through the gaps in your fingers.

“Jungko—”

He silences you by crushing his lips against you. His arms come to wrap around your back and he presses you tight against him. You can feel his erection against your lower belly and you can’t help but push back against it. He groans into your mouth.

“I need you,” he groans.

“Please,” you speak against his lips.

“Yeah?” he kisses the corner of your mouth before kissing and biting down your chin and onto your neck. He keeps one hand at your lower back, keeping you as close to him as he can, the other, coming down to cup your now dripping sleep shorts. He ruts against you, erection pressing lightly into your stomach. “Does this pretty pussy want my cock?”

“God, yes.”

“I need to fuck you. And I need you to stay very quiet so that the others don’t walk in here while my cock is inside of you.” He pulls away from you just enough grap your ass, lifting you onto the island counter. His strength is surprising, but you don’t mind being a little manhandled.

He pulls your sleep shorts to the side, grips his cock, and presses the head to your entrance. You try to slide forward on the counter, try to hook your leg around his back so as to press him into you, but instead he just stays there.

“What a needy little one,” Jungkook growls. And with that, he finally presses into you, his eyes so carefully trained on your every expression.

The smallest of ohs slips from you as he finally bottoms out.

“Fuck, you sound so sweet on my cock.”

You didn’t think that you would break your quarantine chastity in a mountain chalet kitchen with your friend’s cock stuffed deep inside you. You wouldn’t have imagined it would have been Jungkook either — that’s not to say you hadn’t imagined it.

But looking at him, his eyes closed in satisfaction as he finally takes his pleasure — this is all you want.

Throwing your leg around his lower back, you push him further into you. He lets his head fall onto your shoulder, breathing the slightest of groans into your skin.

You continue like that, moving desperately against each other, frantically searching for the pleasure that has been missing for so many months.

And then he’s pulling out of you, lifting you oh-so lightly off of the counter and turning you around. With a hand pressing down on your lower back, your back arches deliciously, ass presented just for him.

He grips his cock tightly in his hand, and runs the head of it through your folds. He presses against your clit and you suck in a breath as he begins to tease you. In response, you roll your hips back at him and he hisses, gripping your hip even tighter.

Finally, he nudges the head of his cock at your entrance and pushes in.

It starts to slip out of you before you can stop it. A long whine, high pitched and needy.

“Shh, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you really want them to hear?”

Still, you can’t help the little huff that slips from you when he drags his cock out of you oh so dangerously slow and then rams back in.

Each thrust pushes you up against the kitchen counter. The rounded pressure, though a little painful, only sparkes a deeper desire in your belly.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whisper.

The rest of the boys are still in the other room, the movie playing not quite loud enough, filling the space of the previously lazy Friday night.

And then he slows. Just enough that he can roll his hips into you at a torturously controlled pace, his cock reaching deeper, more sensitive areas than before.

As if he know what you’re going to do, he wraps his hand around your mouth, stopping your moan in its tracks.

“Do you really want them to know just how desperate you are for cock?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. His hand is so big it covers almost half your face. You imagine his tattoos covering you. This is exactly how you’d like to wear him, his cock deep inside you, his tattoos on beautiful display. “Because tonight, you’re just mine.”

Using the hand he has around your mouth and the other one he has pressed against your belly as leverage, he fucks up into you, hard and fast. The pace is punishing, and exactly what you need.

And just as you feel the pleasure building in your belly begin to climb, dangerously hot and searing you hear:

“What the fuck.”

There’s a figure standing in the doorway, mouth gaping.

Jungkook freezes. Doesn’t withdraw though, his cock still stuffed deep inside you.

“I—” You begin to speak but he raises his hands and you stop dead in your tracks, not sure what you would say anyways.

“By all means, please — don’t let me stop you,” Jimin says.  

next chapter ->

[snow-pitch-grimm]

Neat

Summary:   "And then I said 'neat'! Neat! Nobody says neat anymore!"

                                                                                                   - Baz to Dev

I don’t think this counts as a vine meme reference per se but this scenario wouldn’t leave my head so you guys get to read it.

XXX

BAZ

This is the fifth time Simon had sighed out loud, and it's getting a bit on my nerves. I think he's trying to study for something, but it doesn't seem like he's getting anywhere.

When he had first sat down, I had been glad for the opportunity to stare at him without him noticing.

(Is it creepy? Yes. Do I care? No)

So I had picked up a book, placed myself on my bed, so I had the perfect view of Simon's freckle filled face. The sun was shining a little through the window, causing him to look like an angel bathed in light. His blue eyes looked bluer than usual, and his bronze curls kept falling in his hair.

God, I wanted to run my hand through his curls.

However, the reverie had broken when he had tilted his head back and sighed loudly. And then he had done it again. And again. And again.

When he sighs for the sixth time, I get up from my bed and sit up on my desk, leaning in close to him.

"What wrong with you, Snow?"

He glares up at me.

"What do you want, Baz?"

"Just wondering what's gotten you knickers in a twist. All this huffing of yours is distracting me from my reading,"

He snorts, "Well, sorry your Majesty,"

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He sighs again but answers my question, "The maths test tomorrow. I'm going to fail it. I don't understand anything,"

I frown, "Isn't that the one thing you're usually good at?"

"Well, yeah," he says sighing again, "But apparently not this time,"

I take a long look at him, his drooping shoulders, sad eyes and pouty lips and come to a decision.

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," I say, "But if you want, I can help you study,"

He looks like me as if I've gone insane. Maybe I have. Must be those blue eyes.

"Seriously? You don't even like me,"

Oh, Snow. If you only knew.

"As I said, your sighing is bothering me. Do you want my help or not?"

Simon tilts his head, and it's a testament to how much I'm obsessed with him that I know exactly what he's thinking.

He's considering the costs and benefits of taking my help. At one hand, I might hold this over him (I won't, but he thinks I would). On the other hand, he's here on scholarship and can't risk even a minor slip up. The consideration takes about twenty seconds, and he decides...

"Fine. You can help. But only because I really need it. I still think you're a posh asshole,"

A part of me is thrilled. Another part of me stings. I ignore both and tell Simon to show me what's wrong.

It takes a couple of hours and some extensive groaning from Snow, but in the end, he seems to understand most of the concepts, and if the practice-test I gave him is anything to go by, he'll get a pretty good grade too.

When I show him the practice-test grade, he instantly lights up and grins at me. (Be still my heart)

"Oh my god! Thank you so much, Baz. God, I'm so happy I could kiss you!"

I'm so shocked that I can only laugh and squeak out, "Neat,"

Then I grab my shoes, make an excuse and book it out of there.

xxx

"And then I said 'neat'! Neat! Nobody says neat anymore!"

My cousin looked up from his notes and grinned at me, "Aw come on, Baz, don't beat yourself up. Remember what I said when Niall told me he fancied me?

I think back to a year ago and grin, "Didn't you thank him?"

Dev sighs dramatically and looks at the ceiling, "I thanked him,"

"We're disasters aren't we, Dev?"

Dev looks at me, and we stare at each other for a few moments before bursting into giggles.

"Do you think he'll bring it up?" I ask him once we've calmed down a little.

"Dunno, Baz," says Dev, grin still on his face, "You're the one who's obsessed with him,"

I lightly smack his shoulder, "Speaking of, Where's your other half?"

"Oh, Niall? His dad's in town for something and took him after class. He would have told you, but his dad surprised him,"

"Good for him, he seemed to be getting a little more homesick,"

The rest of us got homesick too sometimes, but Dev and I had each other and could talk about past holidays and annoying aunts whenever we felt a little off. Poor Niall didn't have that and was also a lot more sensitive.

"Also, knowing Snow, he probably didn't even notice,"

"Well, he's an idiot, but he definitely noticed me running out like the hounds of hell were after me, so what do I do? He's going to think it's his fault. I either tell him I'm obsessed with him or he thinks I'm the sort of bloke with fragile masculinity that can't take a joke about kissing,"

Dev snorts, "Baz, the way you dress, no one thinks that you have fragile masculinity,"

Hmm, I did wear a lot of pink flower patterns.

"Also, just tell him you were surprised and then insult him a few times to distract him. It should work,"

"You think so?"

Dev puts his arm around my shoulders and smiles at me, "Would I lie to you, cousin dearest,"

I sigh and put my head on Dev's shoulder, "What would I do without you?"

It's a dramatic rhetorical question, so Dev doesn't answer.

Instead, he had a suggestion of his own, "Stay here tonight,"

I grin at him, "Like we did in first year?"

Dev nods and smiles, "It'll probably be a tight fit, but we can make it work,"

My cousin gives me some of his clothes to wear, and once Niall comes back, we stay up until late, talking and laughing. I almost forget about the whole Simon Snow thing.

When we finally decide to get some sleep, Dev, who's laying behind me, pokes me in the back.

"What?" I whisper

"You could tell him, you know,"

I don't answer, and he doesn't push, but it still lingers in the back of my head.

xxx

One great thing about being obsessed with your roommate is that you know his schedule pretty well. Simon has rugby practice in the morning. I get to the room after he leaves, and any class we have together, I calculate the time correctly, so I arrive after him and leave before he even has a chance to talk to me.

However, my luck runs out at the end of the day. The plan was to come earlier than Snow and pretend to be asleep. Snow, it seems, for once used his brain, and figured out my plan.

Right now, he's sitting on my bed with my book with a big smile on his face. His blue eyes are on me, and I feel like a deer caught in a headlight.

"Oh, hey, Baz," said Snow, standing up, "Lovely to see you,"

I close the door behind me and try to get everything back on track, "Why are you on my bed Snow. I thought even you were smart enough not mix up our sides,"

The remark is weak. I know it, Simon knows it, but it's all I got.

"Baz," says, Simon and he's very close now. When did he get this close?

"You've avoiding me,"

"No, I haven't," I said, "We'd have to hang out for me to avoid you,"

Snow shakes his head, "Uh uh. You've been avoiding me. Why?"

I'm about to refute again, but Simon shushes me.

"Wait, let me guess?" he says, "You ran out of here after I made the kissing joke. So at first, I thought maybe I'd offended you. But then I remembered you were gay,"

Wait. What? How did he know that?

"You came here drunk with your friends once," he says, probably answering my surprised expression

Ah. That does make sense.

"Anyway, as I was saying. You're gay. So then I thought maybe you just didn't like that I was the one making that joke. But if that were the case, you wouldn't have run away. You would have stayed and insulted me a few times,"

And here I thought I was the only one who knew my roommate well.

"So I figured maybe I was just making a big deal out of nothing. That went out the window when you started avoiding me and don't even deny it. You were avoiding me,"

I click my mouth shut. There's no point, really.

"Do you want to kiss me, Baz?" he says, and there's still a smile on his face, and I feel like crying.

I didn't know he could be so cruel.

"Yes! Yes, okay! I want to kiss you. You don't have to- you-"

Then Simon cups my face, and I nearly choke on my own words. What is going on here?

"Baz," he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"

This is a dream. This has to be a dream. There is absolutely no way this is real life. I pinch myself

Except that Simon is still cupping my face and waiting for me to answer with a patient look on my face.

So I nod my head. What do I have to lose?

Snow leans forward, his lips gently meeting mine. It's everything I imagined- no better then I had imagined.

It starts gently at first, but then his lips become a little more insistent. I don't really know what I'm doing but it feels so bloody good that I just follow his lead. His hand slips from my face to the back of my neck, and I pull hs closed by the waist. His other hand is rubbing my stomach, and I feel like I've died and gone to heaven.

Simon pulls away a little, and I whine at the loss, clamming a hand over my mouth out of embarrassment.

He laughs though and pries my hand away, giving me another short and sweet kiss.

"That was fun," he says

"Yeah,"

"Wanna do it again?"

"Definitely, Simon,"

xxx

"You called me Simon,"

"No, I didn't,"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

xxx

"Hey, Baz,"

"Yes, Snow,"

"Will you m my boyfriend?

"God, yes!"

[naturallytom]

Just an Urban Legend (Tom Holland x reader)

a/n: this is based off of 2 urban legends!! also the reader and tom’s ‘roommate’ is an oc, completely made up bc i couldn’t make harrison their roommate for...reasons you will read (also please read the authors notes at the end fldgkjkf i put them there for a reason!!) 

warnings: mentions of sex, fluff/humor (actually for most of the story), descriptions of murder and gore, angst, horror, suicide mention

_______________________________________________________________________“Come on, Tom. Don’t you wanna know the story? We’re in Virginia.” You whined, your boyfriend shaking his head. 

“It’s scary and you know how I feel about that.” Tom pouted. 

“Please, baby? Can’t I just tell you the story? I just read it and I wanna tell you about it.” You crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him puppy eyes. 

“Fine.” He sighed, his hands resting softly on your waist. 

“What’s going on?” Your friend Jack walked in, carrying food. 

“‘M telling Tom the urban legend of the bunnyman.” You grinned, taking a bite of the food Jack brought. 

“Well while we’re in Virginia we might as well hear it.” Jack agreed. “We’ll be headed home to London soon so why not?” 

Tom groaned.

“My point exactly! Okay so, the basically there’s a few versions, but the one I read was this story: a teenager put on a white bunny costume, murdered his entire family, and then hung himself from the bridge.” You read from your phone. 

“Oh lovely.” Tom mumbled, taking a bite of food. 

“Baby it’s just an urban legend.” You reminded him, smoothing his hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“I can’t tell if you guys or the story are more disgusting.” Jack muttered. 

“Shut up you love us.” You laughed, Tom pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Yeah, course I do. You’re my best friends.” Jack admitted, making you and Tom grin. 

“Can we explore the bridge? See if we can find anything?” You asked, turning back to Tom, who shook his head immediately. 

“Nope. Absolutely not.” Tom insisted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Pleaseeeeee?” You pleaded, batting your eyelashes. 

“Take Jack with you!” Tom suggested, frowning when Jack shook his head.

“Early night for me, guys. ‘M really tired from the traveling.” Jack explained, you and Tom nodded understandingly. The three of you had done a lot of traveling earlier and you were doing more the next day so you couldn’t fault Jack for wanting to head to sleep early. 

“That’s understandable.” You told him, Tom nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah you head to bed early, mate. We should probably do that too!” He told you, pleading with his eyes. 

“Oh no, you two should go for a little bit. ‘S our last night in this town. Go see that site.” Jack told you, cleaning up from the food the three of you had devoured. “And when you get back, please don’t have sex. Our beds are right next to each other. I will hear you.” 

“We are not that loud.” Tom groaned while you laughed, burying your head in his neck while he ran his hand up and down your back. 

“Yes you are.” Jack replied nearly instantly. “Now go see that bridge. Report back to me if you find anything spooky.” 

“Tommy? You in now?” You asked, cupping his cheeks. 

“Fine.” He gave in, giving you a kiss on your forehead while you cheered. 

“Put your shoes on, I’ll get an uber.” You told him, opening the uber app while Jack went to get ready for bed. “Done! It’ll be here in a few minutes.” 

“Perfect. Can’t wait.” Tom grumbled, sitting up on the bed as you slipped your shoes on. 

“I’ll protect you Tommy.” You mumbled against his cheek, pressing a delicate kiss to the skin. 

“Good, you better.” He muttered as Jack rolled his eyes. 

“Once again, you guys are disgusting.” Jack called from the bathroom of the hotel room. 

“The uber’s here!” You exclaimed excitedly. 

“Have fun! Let me know if there’s anything spooky!” Jack called as you and Tom left the room. 

Climbing into the uber, Tom’s had didn’t leave yours, holding it tightly. Much to Tom’s dismay, the ride to the bridge was short, only a few minutes. 

The two of you hopped out of the car, Tom still clutching your hand tightly. The bridge seemed normal and fairly short. It was beige and at the top were train tracks, while the walls surrounding the entrance to the bridge were covered in vines with vibrant red, yellow, and orange leaves. 

The moonlight provided a small amount of light, though the two of you used your phone flashlights for more light while you explored. 

“If this wasn’t the site of such a gruesome urban legend I’d say it’s pretty.” You whispered, flashlights highlighting the fall colors of the leaves, your eyes focused on the oh so beautiful vines that simultaneously made the whole scene so much more eerie. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Tom replied, his eyes also focused on the sight in front of him. 

“We’re at a supposedly haunted site and you’re flirting?” You turned to look at him, earning an innocent shrug from him. 

“Not my fault you’re so pretty.” Tom told you, smiling softly. 

“C’mon let’s go explore.” You lead him, still holding his hand. “Are you ever gonna let go of my hand?” 

“Nope.” Tom replied smugly. “Gonna hold your hand the whole time we explore.” 

“Is that cause you’re scared?” You teased, nudging him slightly. 

“Yeah. And I like holding your hand.” He replied honestly, squeezing your hand before the two of you wandered into the darkness of the actual tunnel. 

Your flashlights didn’t pick up anything on the walls, no weird writings or drawings. The noise that caught your attention was the sound of leaves crunching and a twig snapping, which came from behind you. 

You and Tom tensed up and slowly turned around, expecting to come face to face with someone in a bunny costume wielding an axe, but instead, you turned around to face nothing but the air. 

“Nothing.” You sighed out, a mixture of relief and disappointment. Part of you wanted to see something, but you were more glad you didn’t. 

“Should we go back now?” Tom asked, earning a nod from you.

“I’ll get another uber.” You replied, pulling your phone out while Tom wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Should be here in a few minutes.” 

“Can’t wait to go back and cuddle, my love.” Tom mumbled against your shoulder. 

“‘M really tired.” You yawned, Tom nodding in agreement as the uber pulled up. 

The two of you hopped in, making sure the driver knew which hotel to go to, before you leaned on Tom’s shoulder for the ride.

Arriving back to your room, you and Tom were ready to pass out. Opening the door, all the lights were off and you could see Jack curled up in the blankets of his bed, sleeping soundly. 

“C’mon, let’s just go to bed.” Tom whispered, the two of you moving quickly and quietly to the bed you were sharing. 

The two of you got comfortable, Tom pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Just an urban legend, love.” He whispered. “Goodnight, lovey.” 

“Yeah. Just an urban legend. Night, bub.” You whispered in response, both of you falling asleep not long after. 

The next morning you woke up Tom shaking you gently but firmly, shakily whispering, ‘get up, love.’

“What’s up, baby?” You asked groggily, facing Tom, who had a look of horror on his face, his eyes glued to the sight on the bed across from you. 

“I don’t think that was just an urban legend.” He whispered shakily. 

“What makes you say th- oh my god.” Your jaw dropped in horror as you took in the sight in front of you. 

Jack’s bed was covered in blood, his throat slit and stomach cut open. In his blood, written on the wall, were simple words that were enough to haunt you for years. 

 ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn the light on?’

_______________________________________________________________________

links to the legends (that i used):

the bunnyman

the roommate 

a/n: for clarification, the legend of the bunnyman does not include him following people back or anything, i just did that for the sake of the story! the ending is really where the roommate legend comes in- i hope u guys enjoyed this & happy halloween!! 

general warning: if you do want to read more about these, be careful!! when i was trying to find good links to the stories i found a lot of stuff that spooked me especially for the bunnyman in images and the roommate had a few variations and other stories that were very disturbing and made me shiver so just be cautious if you do go searching on your own!!

tags: @angelic-holland​  @lilbeatlebear​ @everyday-imfangirling​ @softbaby-tom​

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @shysterek!

Read on AO3

*****

found you when i wasn't looking

Snow is falling in merry little drifts onto the soft twinkling lights of Beacon Hills. A charming town, filled with well-wishers and warmth for the holidays.

Derek scowls, watching the picture-perfect postcard outside his childhood bedroom window. He was originally going to be on a beach in Hawaii, except Boyd had just proposed to Erica and then suddenly a fun vacation with his friends seemed like the perfect recipe to be third-wheeling for two weeks, and Derek didn’t want anything to do with that.

So here he is, back in Beacon Hills with his dad insisting he fold his socks instead of downing drinks with colorful umbrellas. It’s only the first week of winter break, but the house is already filled with Hales. Too many of them.  Laura’s twins are in their terrible twos, Uncle Peter and Aunt Danielle keep sneaking off like teenagers, when in fact they have three of them, most of whom keep looming in the family room. There are cousins and their partners or dates and extra children and of course, Mom is reveling in all of it, with the tree and the decorations and the cookie baking and the filming and the asking and the hounding him about if he’s happy.

Derek is tired. He loves them. But he’s tired.

He throws the haphazard tied-together sheet out the window. Movies always made this look so easy, but the clumsy-looking rope doesn’t even make it halfway down the side of the house, dangling precariously. It doesn’t look all that stable either, and he eyes how it’s tied to his squeaky twin bedframe. Maybe he should tie it to the cot, too. Honestly. Expecting him to share a room with twelve-year-old Nicky is the worst.

Derek is thirty-three and runs his own successful business. He doesn’t need to be babied, certainly not from Mom, or to hear about her friend’s children in town or to be set up with anyone.

He’s had enough of these blind dates. It’s just too much. He’s just going to sneak out of his house and go get some coffee or something.

“Really?”

Derek spins around. Laura eyes him from the doorway, her eyebrows cocked high.

“You know she actually had a resume and headshot for the last one?” Derek asks, shaking his head. “I gotta get out of here. Please. I can’t take anymore of what’s next. Help me sneak out.”

“I mean, you could use the front door.”

“Mom’s entertaining the mayor and his wife and three kids.”

“Back door?”

“Peter and Danielle are hanging the mistletoe, and are, ahem, getting really into it. I’d really rather not.”

Laura makes a gagging noise. Derek agrees. “Well, I guess you should leave now rather than later; there’s going to be even more people arriving. You know how Mom is.”

Talia Hale only recently “retired” from being the mayor of Beacon Hills, but it doesn’t stop her from continuing her longstanding relationships with all the pillars of the community and backseat driving the new mayor.

“You think this will hold?”

Laura smirks. “I’m not going to tell you that because I want to see you try. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a good eulogy at your funeral.”

Derek rolls his eyes at her and grasps the sheet-rope, gripping it tight. He clambers out the window, holding it taut, and gingerly makes his way down the side of the house, mostly using the trellis and its leafy vines for footing and holding onto the rope for support. At about ten feet left to go he just makes a jump for it, flopping ungracefully onto the ground.

Laura is barely visible from the window as she’s buckled over in laughter. Derek gives her the finger.

A slow clap begins.

“Wow. Eleven out of ten.”

Derek whirls around.

There’s a cute guy standing in his backyard, his eyes twinkling with mischief. His soft-looking hair is windswept and dusted with snow,  and he’s wearing a knitted sweater emblazoned with “MAKE THE YULETIDE GAY.”

Suddenly Derek is hyperaware that he’s wearing an old sweater with coffee stains and ripped jeans. He stands up and attempts to dust himself off, but there’s no going back from having an attractive person witness you do something incredibly stupid.

“You didn’t see me,” Derek says.

The guy throws his hands up, grinning broadly. “Great. Excellent. Yes. No one saw anything.”

“Seriously, I just need to get out of here. My mom’s having folks come over all day, and it’s going to be like the baker’s wife’s niece’s cousin’s former roommate or something next.”

“Sheriff and his son, actually.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “You’re Stiles?”

Stiles clutches his hand to his chest. “Guilty as charged.”

Derek has heard stories about Stiles for years, but has never met him in person. He hears about him all the time, courtesy of being in a small town; the Sheriff’s boy got stuck in a tree, oh did you hear young Stiles got into Berkeley? He’s one of Cora’s classmates, and for that matter Derek always somehow always thought of him, like Cora, as a baby, even though she’s only four years younger than he is. Stiles has just existed on the periphery of Derek’s life, even though he interned for Laura’s law office for one whole summer and somehow managed to impress her, and Mom adores him because he once debated her for a whole hour about economics at her last holiday party.

Derek didn’t exactly have a picture of him in his head, but he was in no way prepared for hot.

“Right,” Derek says, stepping back.

Stiles finger-guns points at him. “Nice Space Balls reference, by the way.”

“Thanks. Happy to supply you with out-of-date movie references at any time.”

“Is that a promise?” And then Stiles fucking winks.

Derek stares at him for a long moment, as he tries to process. Was that a flirtation?

“Sorry, I just spaced out. I think I’m having a…” Derek makes a general wavey gesture that could probably mean quarter life crisis.

“It’s okay,” Stiles says. “I mean, I’m the one who tried to escape community politics and cocktails by trying to hop your fence. I failed, by the way.”

“Oh. There’s a stepladder in the shed.”

“Excellent. I’m right behind you.”

Suddenly Derek’s escape plan has a co-pilot. Stiles follows close behind as Derek yanks for the shed door and turns on the light. He feels around, but he can’t find the ladder anywhere.

“Need a hand?”

“Yeah, can you—”

Suddenly Stiles is pressed up right behind him in the tight space, and Derek is aware of the warmth emanating from his body. He tries to turn around, but only ends up face to face with him, their noses an inch apart.

“Hi,” Stiles breathes.

“Hi.” Derek doesn’t want to say anything else to break the spell. He spots the ladder right behind Stiles but doesn’t move.

Up close, Stiles’ eyes are warm hazel, flecked with gold.

Stiles coughs. “So, I know why I was escaping, but where were you going?”

“Oh. Um. I just wasn’t in the mood for a blind date. I have no idea who my mom is going to set me up with next.”

“Oof, yeah, I feel you.” Stiles blushes. “I mean, I actually am feeling— sorry, I can back up—”

“It’s fine,” Derek says, feeling his face heat up. “Here, the ladder is right behind you, I can grab it—”

Stiles shifts, letting Derek pass behind him, but there’s a tight squeeze and he trips over a rake, tumbling forward, falling right into Stiles—

They collapse into a heap on the floor, sending up dust, and Derek is right on top of Stiles. He scrambles for purchase on the floor to get up, but only manages to slip and mash his face right into Stiles’ firm chest.

Stiles bursts out laughing. “Sorry, your face— you’re so concerned! I don’t mind. You can lay on top of me all you like.”

“At least let me take you out for coffee,” Derek blurts out.

“Done and done,” Stiles says merrily.

There’s a long moment where they’re just looking at each other, and Derek can’t help smiling.

The shed door opens.

“Derek! Whatever are you doing in the shed, come meet the Sheriff’s son— oh.”  Talia Hale grins at them from the doorway.

“Oh. Hi, Mom. Uh— this isn’t—”

Stiles just waves from where he is on the floor.

Behind his mom, he can see the Sheriff, Laura, and a whole slew of cousins laughing their asses off. Derek just wants to disappear.

“I’ll let you get better acquainted then,” she says with a proud grin, closing the door.

Outside, Derek can hear everyone laughing. He’s never going to live this down.

“So. How about that coffee?”