#Genuinely speaking I feel like said demeanor is incredibly useful for when he has to charm and/or persuade people into listening to him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

The Island | KTH (Four)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) implied sex

Notes: this is not a reflection of Taehyung’s art! Just saying lol But anyway, hope you guys like this chapter. Tae and oc sure have a lot of moments huh. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev

Previous --- Next

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

Month 4

“What the fuck is that?” You point accusingly towards the paper Taehyung is excitedly holding up.

“What do you mean,” he grins. “It’s you!”

“…throw it away.”

“What?! No! I worked hard on this!”

“I look like a god damn frog.”

“In the painting or in real life becau—"

“THE PAINTING!” You leap towards Taehyung and reach for his atrocious artwork. Can he even call this disaster art? No offense, no actually, full offense but its ugly as hell. Taehyung lifts it high above his head.

“Listen, listen…don’t you think this hurts my feelings a little y/n? I worked hard on th—”

“I swear to God Taehyung…if you don’t burn this—"

“OKAY OKAY! No need to put out threats!” he pouts almost theatrically. You eye him up and down, waiting for him to make a move towards a trashcan but he just stands here.

“Well? Go throw it away.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yeah, no.”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose, “What do you mean no?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you and laughs under his breath as he steps closer to you.

“First of all, you don’t tell me what to do. I prefer if it’s the other way around.” He smirks, “And second, I am still going to keep it. For the memories.”

You chew on your lips for a few moments, letting his words sink in. But for the memories?

“For the memories? Why would you want to remember any of this?”

Taehyung frowns at your words, he looks genuinely offended.

“I might not like our situation but…”

“But what?”

“Fuck, don’t make me say it.” He says while turning red. “You know, I still want to make good memories with like, you.” He admits softly.

You finally give in, gently reaching for the awful artwork. Don’t get it wrong, Taehyung’s art is usually so beautiful. He does landscapes and abstract pieces and they absolutely blow you away. But his portraits of people? Disgusting.

“Fine…” You smile down at the painting in your hands then look back at him, “But if I see this hung up anywhere I am burning it myself.” You smirk. “And I will take great pleasure in that.”

“Oooooh please tell me more about your pleasures.” Taehyung wiggles his brows at you.

“You’re the worst.” you smile, “Anyway, do we have a deal?” you stick out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal!” Taehyung cheeses, slapping your hand down and going in for a quick hug instead. You’re surprised to say the least, you kind of guessed Taehyung was the affectionate type but you didn’t expect to be on the receiving end of it. “I’ll be in my art room most the day. Movie night though?”

“Yes, movie night.” you oblige.

“Yay.” He chirps happily, skipping off to his art room down the hall. You can’t help but smile as he disappears from your sight.

But then your heart pinches in your chest. You want to feel happy. Are you just ungrateful? You should be happy. Taehyung is finally being himself around you and you finally feel like you aren’t as alone. But it’s all a façade technically…he’s got no one else, just like you have no one else. In the real world…if you two met would you become friends like this? Or is this all forced? Is your entire friendship fake? You feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, you hate these thoughts.

He’s so different than you thought he would be…he’s lighthearted, he’s funny, he’s silly, he’s talented, he’s human. And don’t even get started on flirty Taehyung…You really thought he was some closed off asshole but as time goes on and he becomes more and more comfortable you see the real him, and you really enjoy it. And you hate that you enjoy it. What are you like? Are you still a brat? Does he still think that? You chuckle to yourself, he probably does. Has he grown so comfortable with you that he’s not as angry about being stuck here with you? No, you imagine he’s still really upset about this whole thing. He just doesn’t voice it to you as much anymore. Maybe he’s avoiding the subject. You can understand why. It’s awkward. This place wants to get you two together but neither of you are interested in the other romantically. You just don’t see it happening.

~~~~~

Taehyung is just relaxing in his room on the verge of a glorious nap, he is finally dozing off, eyes slowly closing when his head snaps up in reaction to a loud crash coming from downstairs. Now what the hell could that be? Panicked, he rushes to his feet. He flies down the stairs in record time trying to find the source of the loud bang. He stands in the living room, glancing around the area for any sign of you. Are you okay? Where are you? Shit. Frustrated, he runs his fingers through his hair and as calmly as possible calls out for you. But nothing. Fuck. Your name slips past his lips in growing panic.

He decides he is going to charge each room in search for you, when he reaches the door to his art studio. He can hear muffled words on the other side of the door.

“Shit. Damn. Fuck.”

He instantly roll his eyes to the back of his head, literally so far back all that’s seen is the white of his eyes.

“Such foul language for such a pretty mouth.” He whispers to himself, slowly creeping the door open, exposing a distracted and distraught you.

“Motherfucker!” you huff, your hands on your hips, eyeing the mess you made. God damn did you make a fucking mess. On the floor is a canvas, brushes scattered and a rainbow of colors splattered all around.

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

Your head whips in his direction, your face turning many shades of reds. He stands at the doorway making his presence known, looking at you expectantly, judgement in his eyes. At least he hopes you can see the judgement in his eyes. Because he is definitely judging like hella hard.

You continue to stand here, your blush deepening. He is too frustrated to find it anything but annoying. You begin to stutter out words he can’t make out. You are trying your best, that much is obvious. You’re trying to explain yourself but he can tell you’re only becoming more and more flustered at the situation. He is sure his annoyed expression doesn’t help your ability to speak. Whoops.

“I-I was…well, you said, well remember you said…” You try. You really try. He almost wants to laugh, but not quite.

“I-I said? I said what?” He keeps his stoic demeanor intact, just stressing you further. He’s almost having fun with this. Almost.

“Well, Taehyung…listen,” you try again. “You said,”

“I said?”

Your eyes scan the room as if there’s something here that will help you.

“Words y/n. I need you to use your words.” He demands, maybe having a little fun stressing you out. He sees your blush become such a deep shade of red that even he feels embarrassed.

Finally, you releases a long breath and words begin spilling out of your mouth.

“You said you wanted to keep that frog picture—“

“Your portrait, you mean.”

“Yes, yes whatever. Anyway, you wanted to keep it for the memories, right? You…you…you’re sentimental like that or whatever.” You pause to take a breath. “And and…”

He raises a brow at you, taking a few steps forward, mindful of the mess you made.

“And?”

You raise your head to look into his eyes. You’re staring so intensely that he wonders where you got this wave of confidence from. He stares back just as seriously. Your eyes are the same as usual, dark, plain, boring. For the most part.

“And…I decided that maybe, that maybe I want to…paint you…too?” you step forward. “You know, for the memories.” You tear your eyes away from him. But he sort of wishes you didn’t.

His brows pinch together at your little idea. You want to paint him ? He studies your face seeing if maybe there’s anything else. You look tense under his gaze, he admits that makes him feel kind of good. Is that mean? You look so incredibly shy, and it is so fucking...something, he doesn’t know what but it’s something. He continues to observe you and your shy expressions.

He looks down at you and breaks into his best shit eating grin, his hand reaches down to ruffle your hair.

“Yes!” he lightly chuckles, “Let’s make lots of memories!”

It looks like you’re in a daze, his reaction catching you off guard, he guesses. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you look up into his eyes again.

“Yeah, lots of ‘em.” your smile slowly begins to fade, “We won’t be here forever, so we have to leave with lots of memories.” you mutter.

Taehyung feels himself go soft at your words.

“y/n…” he slides his fingers down to cup the back of your head, fingers gently massaging your scalp. “When this is all over…we can still be in contact, you know?” Your eyes travel to the floor, eyeing the mess you made. He’s still getting over that.

“I know…but Taehyung, I still feel like I don’t even know basic things about you! Like what even is your favorite, uh, I don’t know, animal? I can’t tell you how long I have been wondering that and—”

“Then let’s have a whole night dedicated to that. Let’s drink some wine, paint some pictures and learn everything there is to know!” he moves his hand forward, his fingers playing at the ends of your hair, “Like, what shampoo did they give you because your hair is soft as fuck.”

You give him an unimpressed look,

“I know you steal my shampoo sometimes, I’m not dumb.”

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” He cheeses.

“But okay,” you grin at him, “Let’s do that.”

“I love Koalas and sloths!” You’re laid out on your stomach, swinging your legs above you while sipping on your red wine.

“You can’t choose two!”

“I just did.”

“Fine. Mine is…drum roll…its…” he pats the floor repeatedly.

“Oh come on! Tell me! I’ve been dying to know!”

“Its…lion!” he lays next to you, resting on his side. He eyes the painting you are working on. It’s supposed to be him…supposed to be.

“I like lions too.” You add more color to the background of the canvas. He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Sheesh…and you think I am bad at drawing people…”

“Stop being a hater!”

“ME?” he stares at you incredulously.

You and Taehyung are a few glasses of wine in already. He can tell its hitting you harder than its hitting him, you’re extra talkative and all giggly. He’s painted a picture of the beach while you’ve worked on a portrait of him, it’s amusing to say the least—the portrait. Pretty quickly glasses turned into bottles. Bottle number 3 has been opened and now he is also talkative and all giggly. He’s a giggly lil thang when he’s drunk, and he is drunk.

“Okay,” he sits up, sitting on his legs. “First impression of me, go!” he laughs, for literally no reason.

“I thought you kidnapped me.” You state plainly, “So like, a creepy person.”

His jaw drops.

“I’m offended!” He lays his hand over his heart. “You thought I was creepy?! And there I was thinking you were just some hot chick I hooked up!” Yes, he called you hot to your face. He is drunk, he is allowed to do that. Yeehaw.

“Okay to be fair, that thought crossed my mind too.”

“That I was some hot chick you hooked up with?”

“I never said hot.”

“But you were thinking it, right right?” he wiggles his eyebrows in the most exaggerated way.

You smirk before chugging back the rest of your wine, reaching for a new bottle.

“Okay, maybe I thought it.” You admit, your sly smile growing.

“Want me to open it?” he gestures towards the wine bottle.

“Please.”

He reaches for the bottle of wine, his hands brushing against yours. He hates that he feels a quiet fire in his insides when he touches you. He hates how when his skin makes contact with your skin there is an automatic heat that lights up and warms him, burns him almost.

“Do you have someone? That you like?” You slur out, curious about Taehyung’s love life.

“…Yes.” Taehyung admits softly.

“I am what they call a ‘Dilf’” Jin states confidently. The rest of the boys share a look of confusion.

“You literally aren’t a dad?” Jimin looks at Jin with a puzzled smile.

“But you can’t tell me I am not a ‘dilf’ though.”

“Okay Jin, you’re a dilf.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, going back to his book.

“I wanna be a dilf too.” Jungkook whines and Taehyung nods his head in agreement. Jin shakes his fingers at the boys and speaks up.

“You have to earn the title.”

“Yeah, by being a dad.” Jimin deadpans.

“Let the man have his dreams.” Yoongi says before putting his ear bud back in his ear and nodding along to whatever song is playing.

“My dream is to finish this assignment.” Hobi groans into his pile of papers on the table.

“This is your fault for going back to school for your masters!” Taehyung teases. He has just recently dropped out of school and he is loving it. He watches as his friend works night after night on paper after paper and Taehyung no longer has to worry about things like that. He can just focus on the music.

“Are you guys using this chair?” Taehyung hears a sweet voice cut off all their chatter. He looks up to see this gorgeous girl with light brown hair that reaches her waist and eyes as bright as the sun.

“Uh, no.” Taehyung clears his throat, “You can take it.”

“Thanks.” She smiles at Taehyung and then at the rest of the boys before she’s dragging the chair to the table next to them.

“Holy shit.” Taehyung whispers to Jungkook, “She’s so pretty.”

“That’s Hana.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Hana and her friends. “I have a class with her.”

“Bro, introduce me!” Taehyung begs. “You literally owe me.”

“From what?!”

“I let you fuck that one chick like 2 years ago even though I saw her first.”

“Oh? You let me? Really?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But anyway, sure. I’ll introduce you.” He says nonchalantly, picking up his drinking and taking a sip.

“Taehyung?” you wave your hand in front of his blank face. “Taehyung?” “Huh? Yeah?” he starts snapping out of his memories, “what’s up? What did you say?”

“I asked her name.” you smile awkwardly, “The girl you like.”

“Hana.” He quietly clears his throat, “What about you? Do you have someone?”

“After my ex? I am staying away from men for a while.” You laugh, “Like, can you blame me?”

Taehyung can’t help by frown at your words.

“Don’t close yourself off…” Taehyung whispers to you. “You’re too pretty for that.” He slurs out and you blink at him repeatedly.

“I’m pretty?”

Taehyung scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully.

“Like you didn’t know.”

Hours pass you two by, more wine has been drank and you two are giggling like school children. Taehyung is folded over, laughing a storm as you do your best impression of a dolphin. You can’t help but fall over and laugh your head off as well, the alcohol obviously has made you two crazy.

Taehyung finally calms down and looks at you with soft eyes, “So, what’s your biggest fear?” he asks, leaning forward.

“No!” you laugh. Fucking laugh. “Listen, we can go back to our serious convos another day…right now I wanna…” you slur your last words, “wanna talk about fun stuff.” you give him the most sleazy wink he’s ever seen. It kind of works for him though.

“Okay.” He agrees easily, “Tell me the story about how you lost your virginity? Don’t leave anything out”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Wanna know the dirty details huh?” you part your lips and smile.

“Dirty? I bet it was as vanilla as vanilla gets.”

You frown at his words, “I’m not vanilla. I’m fun, I swear.” you pout.

“I didn’t mean it as boring babe. I just mean you probably lost it to like your high school sweetheart, your first love, blah blah blah. The romantic shit.” You exhale a short breath…babe? You like the new friendly nickname, you admit.

“Actually it’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“First year of college. Random guy from a bar. Total one night stand type of situation. I didn’t even tell him it was my first time. I think he probably just thought I was really inexperienced. “ You laugh to yourself. Sounds like a situation you might regret but there is no bitterness in your tone.

“Oh wow. y/n the cry baby can do one night stands?” he teases.

“I’m full of surprises you know.” The glint in your eye tells him he’s going to find out eventually.

“Well then what are the dirty details?” he pries further, leaning into your space again.

“Hmm, don’t think I am drunk enough for that.”

“Oh, I can grab another bottle of wine.” He teases, “But fine.”

“About your comment about me being vanilla…” you begin but Taehyung is cutting you off with the shake of his head.

“I didn’t mean it bad—”

“Are you into vanilla sex?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows crawl to the top of his forehead and his mouth falls open.

“Why are you asking that?” he breathes out, his eyes darkening.

“They paired us together, you know? We probably have more in common than you think…my guess that means sex too.”

“I know we have that in common.” He smirks, “I’m guessing you never looked in the other room?” he quirks a brow at you. “You might find it interesting.”

“The other room?” you tilt your head to the side, “Oh? The one upstairs next to your bathroom? Yeah, I stuck my head in there once…I saw it’s just another bedroom.”

“Is it really just another bedroom though? You didn’t have a look around?” his sly smile grows on his stupidly handsome face. “Like I said…you might find it interesting.”

“What are you talking about?” you slur, “Why would I…?”

Taehyung rises to his feet, walks towards you and leans down until he’s softly gripping your arm and pulling you up.

“Let’s go explore.” He chuckles, “I want you to see the room.” He’s guiding you out the art room, you two stumbling through the door.

You both begin to make your way upstairs, his hand never leaving your arm as you two walk. You keep bumping into him and he only laughs, squeezing your arm every few moments. You guys walk through the hall until you’re standing outside the bedrooms door.

“Go on.” He looks at you with a smirk, “I want you to explore this bedroom.”

“You’re being weird.” You giggle, opening the door.

And just like you thought, it’s just a bedroom. There’s a large bed in the middle of the room against the wall, and a couple of dressers, a closet, a huge ass mirror and other normal bedroom things.

“And?” You glance at Taehyung.

He looks at you with an amused smile. “Explore.” He commands.

You give him a weird look before walking through the room, your hand slides against the dresser that holds the extra large mirror. You catch your reflection and smile at how drunk you look. Taehyung walks behind you and eyes both of your reflections, he steps close to you and chuckles.

“I like this mirror.” He whispers. “Great view of the bed.”

“Uh yeah?” you look at him through the mirror, “I guess so.”

“Explore the drawers.” His evil grin makes you nervous…you look down at the drawers and open the first one on the left, there’s multiple things inside but you can’t tell what they are. You stick your hand inside and grab the first thing it can find. You pull this object out and bring it closer to your face, your drunken vision making it hard to identify what it is. Then your eyes are expanding and you drop the object in the drawer, the loud thud making you jump.

“What was that?” Taehyung whispers, “Something you know right?”

A dildo. Your eyes scan the rest of the drawer only to see more, along with other toys. You quickly slam the drawer shut and turn around to face Taehyung, who is standing so close behind you.

“What the hell?” you stutter out, turning red.

“That’s not all. Check the closet.” He says quietly, pointing towards the closet. And you listen, you walk forward until you’re standing beside the sliding door. You open it and see various articles of clothing.

Lingerie and outfits. Maid, nurse, etc. You stare at the clothes in disbelief.

“What is all this?” you turn to face Taehyung.

“You tell me.” He says chuckling, “Seems like we like the same stuff.” He shrugs. “Maybe you can,” he walks closer and is touching the maid lingerie, “wear this next you’re cleaning the house.”

He’s teasing you. Your stomach twists and turns, your heart is jumping out of your chest and you feel so fucking warm.

“S-Shut up.” You lean back on the door.

“Oh baby, I think you and I both know who tells who what to do here.” He breathes out, not looking at you as he still plays with the material of more lingerie.

“Taehyung,” you sigh, “The cameras can’t hear you in here.”

“Ah,” he turns to face you, “Right. Should we head back downstairs?”

“Yes.” You slur out, feeling quite dizzy.

Month 5

It’s the bright white screen you know all too well…it has you releasing a shaky breath as you wait for the black letters to eventually appear.

“Hey Taehyung…” you call out for you roommate who is making something to eat in the kitchen. “I think we have an incoming message from our,” You pause, huffing out. “Our little friends.”

“Oh. Oh shit.” You hear Taehyung whine from behind you. “I thought they were finally starting to back off…” he sighs out. “Let’s see what these fuckers want.”

Request:

Skinny dip for 1 hour. Must be within a foot of one another.

Ex-excuse you? Ex-fucking-cuse you? Skinny who what for when what? Your eyes bulge out of your head. This has got to be some sort of joke.

“Hell no!” you yell out, not even sparing Taehyung a glance.

Voice full of panic, Taehyung is quick to bring up the alternative.

“The penalty!” he rushes. “What’s the penalty? We will just do the penalty!”

Penalty:

No power or running water for 3 days.

“No pow—what the fuck?” Taehyung shakes his head, disbelief written all over his face.

“Wait! And no running water? Like, we can’t flush the toilet for 3 days? That’s bullshit!” you drag your hands down your face, “And wont the stuff in our fridge go bad?”

Several long moments pass between you two and not in a cool way. There’s nothing cool about this shit. There’s tension filling the air around you both. Awkward tension.

“Isn’t this too much?” Taehyung finally says, obviously not able to tolerate the silence any longer.

You both exchange worried glances with one another before Taehyung says some shit you don’t like.

“Let’s just do the request.”

Your eyes basically pop out of your head.

“Are you out of your mind—do the requests? How could you say that so easily!” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I feel like it’s the best choice.” He gives his honest answer. “Plus, you’ve never seen a naked man before? We will get over it y/n. Knowing me and you, we will be laughing about it in a couple days.” He finally turns to face you, throwing a wink your way, “You know it’s true.”

You mull over your options and hate that he’s right. You very timidly respond with a quiet ‘okay’ and avoid his eyes. His dark, intimidating eyes.

Your heart is racing, No, that is an understatement; your heart is on the verge of explosion. Your nerves are scattered and pounding from the inside out. You are freaking out. Naked with Taehyung? And he seems cool as a fucking cucumber.

“Let’s meet outside once it’s completely dark out.” You suggest.

“Read my mind.”

“…Of course I did, we’re” you roll your eyes. “Soulmates.” you laugh bitterly to yourself, “anyway, I’ll just see you tonight.”

“So you’re just going to avoid me until tonight?” Taehyung asks, “It’s not like they’re asking us to fuck.” He sways on his feet, “Just keep your eyes on my eyes and we will be fine.”

“Right.” You choke out, “Because it’s that easy.”

“Are you saying it’s impossible not to check me out?” he teases and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up.”

“Brat.”

Night fall approaches sooner rather than later. You wish it would have taken a million years to appear but nope, here you are. You stand outside with Taehyung in front of you. You’re in an oversized t shirt and loose shorts, keeping it simple since they’re coming off anyway. Taehyung wears his usual sweats and a white tee. You two are standing next to the pool, knowing the time has finally come. After leaving Taehyung earlier this afternoon, you took a much needed nap to clear your head.

“Don’t let your eyes linger.” You mumble, nodding your head in his direction.

“Ha, I was going to say the same thing to you.” He pokes his tongue out. Taehyung looks fucking comfortable as fucking always. Like, this doesn’t bother him in the least.

Luckily, the tension is tolerable. So you decide to make the first move. You begin unbuttoning your shorts—

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait!” he yells. His arms flailing, trying to stop you.

You scrunch your nose in annoyance, “What?” you ask, not too pleased since you are just trying to get this over with. If you got told 5 months ago that you would be in a hurry to get naked in front of this guy you would ugly laugh. Yet here you are.

“It’s just-it’s just…we should go at the same time.” Taehyung rushes to say.

“Oh, okay. Pants first, let’s go—”

“No! that’s awkward.” He shakes his head, “shirt first.”

“Okay, okay.” You oblige, “weirdo” You whisper loud enough that he can hear you.

The two of you begin with your tops, you try to focus your eyes elsewhere but they naturally skim the skin of his chest and abdomen as his shirt comes off quickly. Taehyung doesn’t even try to look away as you undress, his dark, intimidating stare causing you to feel chills. You slip off your pink t shirt, exposing your bare torso that is laced with a pretty black bralette. His gaze doesn’t waver.

“Okay, next is our bottoms right?” You gulp. He only nods.

You continue the job on unbuttoning your shorts, letting them fall to your feet exposing your matching black panties. Yes, you wore a sexy matching set on purpose. If he’s going to see you like this why wouldn’t you want to look good? You would do that for anybody. You can feel him eyeing you as he slips off his sweats, leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue briefs.

Finally, you are left in nothing but your underwear. You eye him over, his body is so fucking nice it makes you feel bad for even standing next to him. His briefs are a light blue, leaving little to the imagination. You can literally see the outline of his—you know what. Is he sporting a semi, right now? You do an up and down of your own body when you realize you have more clothes than him!

“Hey this is unfair!” You whisper, covering your chest with your arm. “I have to strip my bra off and you what, just get to watch?”

“Oh? So I am allowed to watch?” he responds playfully. It’s that same teasing tone you’re still trying to get used to.

“Well, you’re obviously going to see…” You grumble, lowering your arm. “Welp, here goes.”

Taehyung swallows rather hard, his eyes trailing your body pretty shamelessly. You reach in front of you, unhooking the bralette and letting the straps fall off your shoulders before letting the whole thing fall to the ground.

“Uh, okay.” Taehyung clears his throat. “Now our underwear.”

“Right.” You say while reaching for the band of your panties, pulling it back a bit and letting it go, the material slapping against your hips. You swear you see his dick move at that.

“Okay.” Taehyung’s breathing is heavier than before, “On 3? 1…2..”

“3!” you shout in unison.

You both begin stripping away your last piece of clothing. You’re the first to be fully undressed. You let your panties drag down leg by leg until they join the pile of clothes at your feet. It’s not that you’re trying to do this in a sexy manner, but if it comes across sexy—then so be it. Taehyung pauses mid action, his eyes scanning your body again. God, you are starting to get really nervous again. His gaze absolutely thrills you, you can admit that. You’d live a life of torture to have him stare at you like this all the time. You see him lick his lips then shake his head. You didn’t just imagine that right?

“Hurry up.” You plead.

Taehyung finally drags off his briefs. By the looks of it he looks mostly hard, as his cock springs free. Holy Fuck. Your last ex—Ben—was not this…blessed. Taehyung has every right to be as cocky as he wants, he’s earned it. His dick is long in length but he also seems to have girth. How is one man blessed this much? You would have to have your hand wrapped around it—or your lips—to really know how thick he is. Jesus fucking Christ, what are you saying? You think your best excuse is that you are dick deprived. Also…how long have you been staring? You will say long enough by the look Taehyung is giving you. It’s that shit eating grin that just screams he is one cocky bastard.

“Okay,” you clear your throat, forcing yourself to look into Taehyung’s eyes. “Let’s get in the pool.”

“You got the timer?” Taehyung chuckles.

“It’s laying on the ledge.” you point at it, walking closer to the pool. “Ready?” you look up at him, waiting for his response.

“You look beautiful by the way.” He says out of nowhere. “I mean, as always.” He winks.

You blush pretty fucking hard at that, you can feel all the heat rush to your cheeks, lighting you on fire.

“Are you-are you ready or what?” you grumble.

“Always.” He grins, reaching for you hand. “Let’s go.”

You two tip toe into the water, pausing every few seconds to get use to the temperature of the water. You stop once the water reaches your collarbones, you walk towards the wall, lean against it and face forward. You turn the timer on and you both exchange a few words but you remain mostly quiet, You don’t think either of you know what to say. Every minute that passes (about 15 to be exact) has your nerves spiking.

You hear Taehyung sigh deeply as he inches closer towards you. Now why would he do that? He inches so close that your shoulders are touching, he sinks a little further into the water and then surprising you, he rests his head on your shoulder. What the fuck is he doing?

“We can have a foot of space between us.” You remind him awkwardly.

Taehyung remains quiet, you only hear his soft breaths.

“Taehyung?”

“You know how hard it is going to be to get the image of you naked out of my head?” He whispers with a chuckle.

“Don’t start using me as masturbation material.” You joke, your eyes looking out at the water. It’s calm and bright from the lights inside the pool.

“Start? You think you haven’t entered my mind before?” he jokes back. At least you think he’s joking.

“Stop playing.” You laugh awkwardly.

Taehyung is quiet again and you can feel the tension that always visits you two starting to build.

“Do you…have you…have you thought about me before?” you manage to slip out, surprising yourself.

“You’re asking if I’ve—”

“If you’ve thought about me when you have ‘alone’ time’ ya know?”

“Do you think I haven’t?” he lifts his head and stares at you. “y/n…I’m a guy. And you’re kind of the only person I see.”

Oh. It’s not like I see anyone else. His last words repeat in your mind. Of course, that makes sense. He’s stuck with you, of course you’ve entered his mind, probably against his will or whatever.

“I see.” You say softly. You step to the side, getting further from him and he frowns.

You two stand here, barely speaking. Maybe another 20-30 minutes pass when Taehyung dramatically huffs out.

“Listen y/n…about earlier.” Right earlier. When you made a fucking fool of yourself. Asking your friend is he has ever jacked off to you before! Before he can continue you slap a finger over his pouting lips, shushing him.

“Do you really think now is the time?”

“We have time to kill—”

“—okay! So let’s talk about something else!” you happily offer.

But you guess Taehyung isn’t having it, he steps closer and rests his head on your shoulder again, his breathing picking up. Why is he breathing so hard?

“Just hear me out, okay?”

You only stare ahead, exhaling deeply. What to do…maybe there’s no harm in hearing him out, right? Oh wait there is harm! The feeling of fucking rejection. Why does it feel like rejection? You don’t know. Why the fuck you care? You don’t know that either. But he’s fucking sulking, like a baby. You thought you were the baby here? You guess he needs to have a turn every now and then…

“fine.”

“You probably,” he sinks in the water just a little deeper, “hate me, right?” you don’t hate him…”Me, your friend, has had dirty thoughts about you, yada yada,” he closes his eyes.

“ wait what—” This is because he has had dirty thoughts about you?

“So about what I said…I’m sorry…”

“Taehyung it’s fine,” you rush to say in embarrassment, “I don’t know why I asked! Seriously, it was stupid. I crossed a li—”

“Wait why did you ask?” That’s when you freeze. Yeah why did you ask?

“Uh…”

“Why?” he stands up straighter, his head tilted towards you.

“I was just curious Taehyung.” you defend. “It’s not that deep.”

“Curious? About me?” he raises he brow, he pauses while thinking over his words. “Like, sexually?” he finishes, caution in his voice.

Fuck. What did you get yourself into?

“Taehyung…I already said it was stupid. Plus,” you decide to be bold again, “Hearing it was only because I’m the only one here or whatever didn’t do great things for my ego.”

“Wait—” you hear him stifle a chuckle. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

“Well…” you drag out the word with a pout. You don’t mean to be such a baby yet here you are.

“Wow! I thought you were mad because I’ve thought about you impurely, not because it wasn’t a good enough reason why…wow.” He laughs! He’s basically laughing at you!

“Well?”

“Oh my God, y/n. You’re joking right? I can’t just say I have the hots for my friend now can I? That’ll just—”

“Do you?” your voice is much smaller and quieter than you anticipated, like it barely escaped. Taehyung stays quiet for a second too long that it makes you ten times as nervous.

“Are you…” Taehyung looks at you with a look on his face you can’t quite place, “I’m naked in a pool with you right now and I am going crazy. Absolutely crazy.” Taehyung sighs out heavily, a frown taking over his face. “You’re ability to be so naïve just…baffles me.” He admits, defeated.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a beautiful girl y/n. Of course my mind has wandered. It doesn’t mean I—fuck. It doesn’t mean anything deep or anything like that. But yes, being with you and your fanfuckingtastic tits is giving me some trouble.” He says darkly. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out either.” He smirks. “We are human.” He finishes.

A long, deafening silence accompanies you both. Its sitting in the water between your bodies. Just lingering, waiting for one of you to break it in half and drown it in this very pool. But no, it remains. And that person won’t be you. But several minutes have passed by and he is still fucking quiet. Maybe you should be the one to say something? You’re about to you swear , but you hear Taehyung grumble something under his breath.

“What’s that?” you say.

“I said, it’s only fair if I ask too.” Ask what? Oh. Wait. That?

“Ask what?” you ask, pretending you don’t know.

“You know what.”

“Nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’.

“y/n.” “I’m not answering that.”

“Come on.” He leans his face towards your neck, his breaths hitting your wet skin. “It’s only fair.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” he pushes on. “Come on y/n, have you thought about me when you get yourself off or not?” he asks, his voice really low. How does he get his voice so deep? Fuck, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe once or twice I have thought about you too.” You admit, feeling a rush of adrenaline as the words leave your mouth.

“Once or twice?” he repeats lowly, “What did you think about?” his words crawl on the side of your neck as they leave his mouth.

“I’m not answering that.”

“I want you to tell me.” He sounds so breathless while being so demanding.

“Nope.”

“You’re no fun.” He chuckles. “Aren’t you curious about what I think about?”

“Not really.” You lie. “Don’t worry about my imagination. It’s the only action I’m getting anyway.” You laugh.

“When’s the last time you had sex y/n? Please tell me it wasn’t with your ex…”

“Yeah it was.” You admit and Taehyung pushes his head back, not liking you admission.

“Why haven’t you?” he asks.

“I felt so betrayed Taehyung…it’s sort of hard to trust anyone after that.” You sigh, “He hurt me bad. I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable.” You say softly, “I don’t think I will for a while.”

“I see…I’m so sorry. I wish that didn’t happen to you.”

“It’s in the past now.”

Ben holds you close as he comes, his hands leaving behind their marks on your body from how tightly he holds you.

“Fuck yes.” He groans, “Did you come?” he asks quickly, breathing hard into your neck.

“It’s okay.” You sigh out, “As long as you feel good.”

“I felt amazing honey.” He kisses the side of your neck over and over. “Shit, we gotta get going. We’ll be late for work.”

“Do we really have to take separate cars?” you whine.

“Just for now babe.” He promises, lifting himself off your body, leaving your pussy aching for more.

“Okay…”

“He look so handsome today as usual…” you hear Layla talking to some of the other girls. “I’m telling you…he’s going to ask me out. He’s been eyeing me lately and complimenting me.” She gushes, catching your interest.

“Who?” you ask, setting your belongings down on your desk.

Layla turns to face you, waves her hand and smiles.

“Ben.”

Ben? Like your Ben? Her boss Ben?

“Ben who?” you blink at her and the other girls laugh.

“Obviously the only Ben we know!” Layla giggles and you feel your chest tighten.

“You think he’s going to ask you out?”

“Yes girl! He comes to my desk a few times day, calls me gorgeous, so on and so forth.” Layla says quietly so only you girls can hear. You feel your heart drop.

“I don’t think so.” You speak up. “Ben wouldn’t. He’s already seeing someone.”

“Oh really? Who?” Layla scrunches her brows together, “Because—”

“Me.” You blurt. “He and I are…”

The other girls stop their giggling and look at you with shocked eyes.

“There’s no way.” One of them says.

“y/n, are you serious?” Layla blushes, feeling a little embarrassed now.

“Yes, for months now.” you admit. “But we weren’t telling anyone…yet.”

“Wow! I can’t believe this!” another girl says, her hand coming to her mouth.

You then in a hush hush voice tell the group of girls yours and Bens story. You tell them how he pursued you, you finally agreed and how you two have been dating for over 6 months. They gush and gasp and giggle. It feels good to finally tell people, you think.

But unfortunately for you, it wasn’t good at all.

“y/n?” Taehyung knocks you out of your daze. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” You sigh, feeling weak. “I’m okay.”

Taehyung looks at you with pity, his eyes full of it. He stands tall and floats until he’s standing in front of you.

“I’m going to hug you.” He states calmly, “I really need to hug you.”

“Taehyung…” you step back until your back hits the ledge. “Now isn’t really appropriate.”

“I don’t care. I’ve already seen you naked.” He says nonchalantly. “C’mere.” He opens his arms wide for you and you shake your head.

“I said, c’mere.” He inches closer and closer. “Or I’m coming to you.”

“Taehyung.” You whine, but you let him get closer to you.

His wet arms reach out for you, he’s gripping your shoulders first before his hands easily slide down your arms until they’re under water holding on to your waist.

“C’mere.” He repeats. And you slowly inch closer towards him, your arms hesitantly circling around his middle. And then he’s pulling you in to his chest…he sighs when he feels your budding nipples graze his skin, he sighs when he feels the fullness of your breasts being pushed into him, he sighs when he feels you.

You release a long breath as you hug him, maybe you needed this. This type of human contact. You pull back and look up into Taehyung’s dark eyes, he’s already gazing at you.

“Thanks.” You mumble.

“I think of you because you’re cool. And really pretty.”

“Huh?” Why is Taehyung suddenly complimenting you?

“When I’m—you know. I think of you because you’re cool and really pretty. I could think of anyone ya know? That’s how an imagination works. But I still think about you.”

You’re sure your face is a dark crimson, with how hard you are blushing. How are you supposed to take this new information?

“W-Well,” You find it hard to look into his eyes. “I guess, same.”

“Because I’m pretty?” his tone is lighter all the sudden, you roll your eyes.

“What do you think? Timer should be going on any minute now.” Taehyung throws a glance over his shoulder towards the timer.

“Hmm…” You turn, reaching for the timer, your wet hands getting ahold of it. “Less than 5 minutes.” You read it.

“Oh.” He sings, “If you have a secret, share it now!” Taehyung chuckles into the water, his lips creating bubbles on the surface.

“You want to know even more about me?” You stand a little taller, the water reaching the tops of your breasts. You see Taehyung’s eyes linger for a second before meeting your eyes again. “If you wanna know anything, just ask.” You reach your arms over your head, releasing a yawn.

“Okay…” He places his fingers on his chin, “It’s about me though.” He stops, his fingers dragging down his neck. “Ah, never mind.”

“What?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Aren’t we passed weird?” you giggle.

“No, it’s really weird.” He sighs out, sinking down into the water until his head is fully under.

You watch as he rises back up, the water cascading down his golden skin, the water from his hair dripping onto his shoulders.

A few moments pass, Taehyung stands here thinking to himself while you just shamelessly watch. You watch as he chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes upward, scanning the stars. He hums some tune to himself, deep in thought. Honestly, you love when he does this. He looks so…good. Not in a sexual way, you swear. He just looks so him. So Taehyung. He goes from chewing on his cheek to his bottom lip, his teeth digging into the plump flesh. You gulp, God he has no idea how good he looks like this.

“Well?” You ask impatiently. Trying to wave away any more of those thoughts you were just having.

Taehyung releases his bottom lip from his teeth as his lips form into a pout, his eyes closing.

“I’m thinking…”

“Less thinking, more asking.” You feel way too curious about whatever it is he wants to say. And the minutes are passing you by.

Taehyung opens one eye to look at you, he exhales, and faces you.

“Does it sound like I’m in love with Hana?” he says quietly.

“W-What? You’ve only really brought her up once…”

“But when I talked about her did it seem like I have deep feelings for her?”

“She thinks I only like the idea of her” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin and Namjoon. “She doesn’t think I like her as much as I say? Which is so stupid!”

“Isn’t she right though?” Jimin asks with a frown, “You only ever talk about how pretty she is…”

“Jimin means you don’t really have that much in common with her, do you?” Namjoon questions softly. “You don’t…you don’t seem as into as you have been in the past. Are you sure you actually like her?”

Taehyung stares at his friends in disbelief, not believing his ears for one second.

“What are you guys talking about? I fucking like her.” He grits out.

“Are you sure you aren’t just lonely—”

“I don’t want to hear this.” Taehyung stands up from the couch, “I’m going to go see her.”

Taehyung makes it to Hana’s apartment but her roommate answers the door and frowns when she sees Taehyung,

“Yes?”

“Uh, I’m here to see Hana.” He gestures inside the apartment.

“Right…” the roommate stands off to the side and lets Taehyung in. “She’s in her room.”

Taehyung walks through the apartment and down the hall until he’s knocking on Hana’s door. She opens it quickly, hugging him and pulling him inside.

“Hey you.” She smiles at Taehyung and he smiles back with his teeth.

“Hi.”

“What brings you here?”

“Just came to hang out, maybe watch a movie?” Taehyung sways from side to side, trying to not make this awkward.

“Sure, you can choose the movie.” She goes to her desk, grabs her lap top and gestures towards her bed. “We can watch in my bed.” She says shyly.

“G-Good idea.”

“So how did you like it?” Taehyung asks excitedly. ‘Castaway on the Moon’ just finished and he is so happy he got to show her his favorite movie.

“Honestly?” she chuckles awkwardly, “I didn’t really like it.” She admits. “it was weird.”

“It’s not weird! It’s amazing,” he pouts and she giggles.

He does feel really disappointed that she doesn’t like his favorite movie…is that a red flag? No, he’s just being dramatic, he thinks.

“Next time I’ll choose the movie.” Hana cuddles closer to Taehyung. “Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Taehyung…” you begin, “Where is this coming from?”

“She doesn’t think—my friends too—don’t think we have a lot of chemistry. That I’m forcing myself to like her, but that’s not true! But sometimes I feel confused. And I thought I could get an outside opinion.” He admits, “But this was stupid you don’t have to answer.”

You can tell him you believe in his feelings or you can tell him you don’t think he’s even talked about her enough that you take his feelings seriously. But will that hurt him?

“I—”

Beep beep beep beep beep beep.

The fire place is turned on, creating a safe and cozy atmosphere. The gas lit flames burn a hole in the tension that fills the room. What sort of tension? Not sure.

Taehyung and you are sat comfortably on the sofa, sitting with crossed legs facing one another, your knees just barely touching. A bowl of popcorn rests between you and blankets wrapped around your bodies. Separate blankets, of course.

Taehyung and you have decided to move the party inside (with clothes: on) and continue talking.

The ringing of the timer didn’t completely ruin your conversation only delaying it.

“And I don’t know,” he takes a handful of popcorn and stuffs it in his mouth. “I think we would make a cute couple.”

“Yeah but like I asked, what sorts of things do you two talk about? Not if you guys are a cute couple.”

“We talk.” He states.

“Okay…about?”

“Stuff.”

“You aren’t helping your case.” You sigh out, biting your lip. “I want to believe in your feelings Taehyung but…”

“I know.” He cuts you off, “I know.”

“So why are you forcing it?” you reach for some popcorn yourself, “Why do you want to like her so bad?”

“I don’t know….” He admits softly, “I really don’t know.”

“You’re unsure of your feelings.” You say bluntly. “That’s what it seems like.”

“Maybe I am.” He wraps the blanket around his shoulders tighter. “I’m like you…I don’t know what love is.”

“And just like me, you’ll find it someday.” You promise him with a sweet smile. “Right?”

“You will for sure.” He breathes out, “I think I’m a ….”

“A?”

“God, I don’t even want to say it.” He throws his head in his hands. “But I think I am a hopeless romantic.”

“I just want some cute love story with a cute girl. And Hana is perfect.”

“But does she thrill you? Challenge you? Make you laugh?”

“She’s…” fuck, he doesn’t even know. Does he even know Hana that well?

“Hey y/n…” Taehyung looks up at you, his eyes finding yours and you shrink in your spot.

“Yes?”

“Can we watch my favorite movie? I’m curious what you might think about it.” He gazes at you and you nod your head slowly.

“Sure Taehyung.”

“Also, you can call me Tae.”

“Holy fuck.” You sob into your hands. “The fucking noodles.”

Taehyung looks over at you with a soft smile as he has his own tears falling down his face.

“I know right?”

“He finally felt like he had purpose Tae,” you look at him with a pathetic scrunched up face, tears still leaving your eyes.

“EXACTLY!” Taehyung wails, “EXACTLY!”

“This movie was amazing, and how everything turned out...wow…and how she…and he…my goodness. I’m still crying.”

“I told you!! I am so glad you enjoyed it.” He moves closer to you on the sofa without thinking.

“Only lame people wouldn’t like this movie!” you basically yell out and Taehyung scoots even closer, his shoulder bumping yours. But you barely notice, still too invested in the movie.

“Yeah.” He agrees with a smile. “You really must be my soulmate.” He jokes with an awkward smile. “No one else really likes this movie.”

“Ha-Ha.” You roll your eyes, “But anyway, that’s crazy since it was so good.”

“Stop praising it or I’ll have to marry you.” He jokes again and you start turning a rosy pink.

“Stop.” You whine, swatting his shoulder.

“Let’s call it a night, yeah?”

You and Taehyung clean up the kitchen and living room and head upstairs for the night, he walks you to your bedroom door and lingers.

“Tonight was crazy. I saw you naked.” He brings up the request and you go redder than red.

“We can literally never talk about it again…”

“Am I allowed to think about it at least?” he winks, his voice low and making you feel tense.

“Goodnight Taehyung.”

~~~~~~~~

Month 6

Today is one of those days…Taehyung is in a bad mood and you’re being a brat. He hates how much you’ve been teasing him today…he is sorting through his feelings for Hana but you insist on walking around with small shorts and low cut tank tops, claiming it’s ‘hot’. He finally has you cornered though, he’s finally had enough. He’s got you pushed up against a wall, his face so close that your breaths mingle with one another.

“You’re really pushing me today…” Taehyung leans closer, his warm breath fanning over your face. “Today’s not the day y/n.” he warns.

“How am I pushing you? I’m literally not doing anything.” You jut your bottom lip out and look to the side.

“You’re being…such a fucking tease.” He decides to say, “Which is giving me a real headache.” He leans down, his arms on either side of your body.

“So I give you a headache?” Your eyes look up into his and you smirk. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You are real annoying, you know that?” he can’t help but chuckle, but then he’s exhaling a deep breath and rolling his eyes. “Ask for forgiveness.”

“Ask for forgiveness?” you scoff. “Seriously? And what am I asking forgiveness for?”

“You’re lucky I’m not telling you to beg.”

“Beg?” you scoff again. “Who do you think you—”

“y/n.” his dark eyes gaze into yours. His hand slides down the wall and then it’s at your waist. He pulls you in and leans his head down closer to your face, you feel the lump in your throat grow as you ty to swallow it down.

“Y-Yes?”

“Ask for forgiveness.” He tells you again, this time much more softly.

“And if I don’t?” You stare up at him and he chuckles.

“Do you really want to find out?” his gaze doesn’t waver as he looks at you…the way he stares at you makes you feel bare in front of him, like he’s stripping you of your clothes, of your skin, everything.

“And if I do?” you whisper. “What happens if I do?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you as he licks his lips repeatedly…you’re really testing him aren’t you? He can’t tell if you’re toying with him because of the cameras or if it’s because you’re a brat.

“y/n.” he says your name like the sound of a slow breath. It feels intimate, the way he calls out for you. You can’t help but gulp as you blink up at him.

“Y-Yes?”

“You want to beg, don’t you?” he smirks, he pokes his tongue out as he eyes you. You can see the amusement in his eyes. “You want to…” the words are dying on his tongue because what can he say? Everything he wants to say would probably be deemed as inappropriate.

“I want to what?” you tilt your head up, your eyes scanning the entirety of his face and he leans further into your space.

“Just do as I say, tell me you’re sorry and we can move on.”

“Do as you say?” you lean back until your head is lightly hitting the wall, “You think I would really listen to you?”

“Such a brat.” His hand doesn’t let go of your waist as he leans back as well. “Why do I deal with this? And yes,” he rolls his head back. “I think you would very much enjoy listening to me.” He pauses and bites his lip. “If this company really thinks we’re a match made in heaven then I am sure you can assume what I mean.”

You silently gasp, a blush painting itself brightly on your cheeks.

“Ah,” he leans in again, “So you do know what I mean.”

“Taehyung,” you mumble, “Sometimes your flirting for the camera is too much.” You whisper quiet enough the cameras can’t hear.

Taehyung leans down until his mouth is at the shell of your ear and you can hear the smirk.

“Who says it’s for the cameras?” he leans away from you again, he finally drops his hand from your waist and is about to turn to leave when your hand flies to his shirt.

“Wait.” You blurt out, “I’ll…” you look off to the side. “I’ll say sorry”

“Oh?” Taehyung looks amused to say the least, “Go ahead, then.”

“Only if you tell me what’s wrong today.”

“It’s nothing.”

Your hand goes from the middle of his shirt to his shoulder and you look up at him with big, doe eyes as he blinks down at you over and over.

“What?” he whispers.

“Please.” You whisper back, “I’ll be good,” you promise in a low voice.

Taehyung feels his chest get warm, the heat traveling from there to his toes. He looks at you with his serious expression and softens.

“You are good.” He breathes out. His gaze intense as he stares into your eyes.

“Then…” you pause. Taehyung keeps his eyes on your eyes until he’s not. His eyes slowly travel down your face until he’s staring at your lips. He notices how plump they look, how your tongue darts out to wet them. He feels himself being drawn closer to you, leaning in further and further.

“…Taehyung.” You say breathlessly and Taehyung blinks repeatedly, clearing his throat as he leans back again.

“Fine, don’t apologize. Brat.” And he’s stepping away from you and you watch his back as he walks away.

Taehyung. Is. Such. A. tease. And it drives you absolutely insane. You’re sure the company that watches you is having the times of their lives as you suffer. Why does he have to go this far? It only makes you want to challenge him and go even further yourself. There was a moment, right? Where he acted like he was going to kiss you? Of course he wouldn’t actually do that. This is just for show but god, it still drives you nuts.

Taehyung rushes to his bedroom, slamming the door shut as he rests against it. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s just frustrated. He misses Hana. But why do you have to be so infuriating and you know, hot. And it makes him angry. He wasn’t actually going to kiss you, of course. But there was a moment of strange tension that he…he can’t describe. Taehyung slides down the door, falling to the ground. He remembers his first kiss with Hana, it was sweet and nice but like, he doesn’t remember it being intense not like how it feels when he gets close to you.

“Taehyung!” Hana giggles as she pats his back as she’s thrown over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Never!” Taehyung laughs just as much as he runs around in circles. “Ugh, so heavy though.” He jokes.

“Hey!” Hana hits his back, “Come on, put me down.” Her giggles softly relax and he’s setting her down back on the ground, her feet finally planted on the ground as she keeps her arms loosely thrown around his neck.

“You really love carrying me.”

“Holding you is fun.” He smiles, “And you’re not actually heavy. Actually you weigh nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” She playfully rolls her eyes.

“So.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, looking into Hana’s eyes.

“So…” she steps closer to him, tightening her hold around her neck. “We’ve been hanging out a lot …” she flutters her lashes, “And..”

“And?”

“I kind of want you to kiss me.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s eyes widen. He was not expecting that. He smiles at her and nods his head. “Yeah, I can do that.” He teases, leaning in until his lips are against hers. He pulls back but she pushes herself forward to kiss him more and he sighs in her mouth, loving the feel of her lips.

“We should do that more often.” Taehyung breathes out and Hana giggles.

Taehyung groans into his hands, recalling his memories. He does miss Hana but he feels like every time he thinks of her…he somehow is also thinking about you too. But it’s not like he’s thinking of you like that but yeah, you’re on his mind. And he’s got to chill out. He stands up from the floor and walks to his bed, throwing himself on it with a bounce. He’s still so frustrated. He recalls dinner yesterday, how he…

“I’m staring at you because you have sauce on your lips.” Taehyung says from across the dining room table.

“Should I get it for you?” he teases, standing up from his chair, the sound of it screeching against the floor makes you flinch.

“No, no.” you shake your head, “I can do it myself.”

“What if I want to help you though?” Taehyung tilts his head with innocent eyes. “I’ll clean you up.”

“Tae—”

Taehyung walks to your side of the table and bends down until his face is level with your face, he smiles at you and raises his thumb up to your lips. His thumb brushes across your bottom lip slowly, the heat of his finger making you sigh out. He leans in closer as he finishes wiping the sauce off your mouth. When he finishes he takes a moment to look into your eyes like he’s searching them for something. He’s not sure what though. You feel yourself being hypnotized by his gaze, you, yourself stare back at him just as deeply…you think he’s going to lean away any second but instead he brings his hand between your faces and brings his thumb to his mouth. His thumb pushes past his lips and he’s licking it clean, the action purposely agonizingly slow.

“There. Got it.” He breathes out, “All clean.”

Your eyes widen just the slightest…he’s a tease. A fucking tease.

Taehyung’s eyes light up in amusement when he watches how you flush under his hard stare and he starts laughing.

“W-What?” you spit out, your embarrassment has you stabbing your food with your fork. “What’s funny?”

“You.” He says with a grin, the air is starting to thin out as he laughs. “You make me laugh.”

“Glad I can entertain.” You roll your eyes.

You’re so…fuck, you’re so sexy. Taehyung has been wanting to admit that for a while, but god, he has to really fucking control himself. But he’s trying to keep these thoughts at bay because he needs to figure out what he’s doing about Hana.

He lays here thinking of all the moments he has flirted with you for the camera, he groans into his pillow when he has the hardest realization. Is it really for the camera? The tension between you two is so fucking thick, the air is suffocating, making it hard to breathe. The intensity…the thrill. You are the only one who makes him feel like his world is burning with a passionate fire. Hana is nice but you? You’re you and he’s realizing how much he likes that.

He’s realizing a lot. It’s been 6 months and he thinks he is ready to admit that this is beyond what he signed up for. He signed on to get along, but this? This is a whole other journey he’s going on.

Taehyung sits up in bed, his face gone pale as he makes his realizations. His mouth hangs open as his mind races. Does Taehyung just want to fuck you? Or….does Taehyung like you?

Suddenly, there’s soft knocking on his bedroom door, his head snaps in that direction and he knows it’s you—well duh, who else would it be? He scrambles off the bed and he’s opening the door. You’re wearing yoga pants and a long sleeve shirt now with an innocent smile on your face.

“I turned the AC down.” You say. “Now I won’t make your life hard by wearing hardly any clothes.” You’re teasing him and he’s going wild for it.

“Oh really?” he breathes out, “Are you going to say sorry?” he teases back, his breathing picking up.

“Should I ask for forgiveness?” you mock him and he raises a brow at you.

“I’m going to make you beg y/n.” he says lowly, “Keep this up and I’ll be carrying you to the other bedroom.”

Your smile drops at his words. What does he mean by that? He’s taking the acting too far…

“You ever begged before baby?” He walks closer to you, making you uneasy. You step backward further into the hall and sigh out.

“Maybe.”

“From now on, you’ll only ever do it for me.” He says so low, that you barely hear him. But you do hear him and you shudder.

“Taehyung.” You warn softly, you push him by the shoulders, backing him into his bedroom. Once inside you close the door and look at him expectantly.

“What?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re being too much…” you whisper. “But fuck, I gotta admit you’re good.” You breathe out roughly, “It almost feels real.”

“I wasn’t kidding earlier.” Taehyung walks towards you, his hand reaching out to touch the ends of you hair, “Who says this is for the cameras?”

You glance up at him, clearly confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung feels his heart start to race. “This just got a lot more interesting.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung fanfic #the island chapter 4

283 notes · View notes

sugawaraxo · 4 years

Text

safe place

warnings: reader comes from an abusive household. will include both physical and verbal abuse.

characters: tadashi yamaguchi, satori tendou, tobio kageyama, tetsuro kuroo

request: hii!! can i request scenarios with yamaguchi, tendou, kageyama, kuroo (and maybe akaashi 🥺👉👈) with a crush on a girl who comes from an abusive household and how they would confess/help her? thank you sm🥺💗

an: i’ve been writing so much smut lately that writing fluff felt weird bahaha, but i hope you enjoy it! :)

yamaguchi

- there has been a dramatic shift in your personality since tadashi first met you

- and he notices it instantly

- though you pretend to be, you’re no longer the cheerful and bubbly y/n you once were

- and yamaguchi hates seeing you this way

- so he debates whether he should bring it up for a long while, not knowing exactly what to say

- but when you show up to his house one day, shaking harshly with tears pooling down your face

- he knows something’s terribly wrong

“hi y/n.” tadashi says with a big grin as finally he opens his front door after hearing his doorbell ring a couple times. that smile quickly drops and forms into an expression rich with concern. his eyebrows furrow and his eyes widen as he takes in your appearance. you’re shaking violently and breathing heavily. your eyes are bloodshot from all of the tears that are quickly rushing down your face, dripping silently onto the concrete of yamaguchi’s front step as you avoid eye contact with him. you’re not quite sure why, but you’re embarrassed about crying in front of him. so your eyes stay locked on the bland grey of the concrete ground beneath you as you wait for tadashi to say something.

“c-come in. it’s super cold, you can tell me what’s wrong inside.” he says sweetly, reaching out a hand for you to grab. he leads you into the kitchen, watching as you take a seat on the counter. then he grabs a kettle from the stove, pouring you a cup of tea with the water he was boiling before you had shown up on his doorstep. you two remain silent as he does so, neither of you being quite sure of what to say in this moment. so you let the stale silence consume you, only the delicate sounds of yamaguchi pouring the cups of tea filling your ears. once he’s done preparing your tea the way he knows you like it, he walks over to your spot on the counter and hands you the mug.

“careful, it’s really hot.” he informs and you smile softly at his concern. you take a small sip of the tea after blowing it to cool it a bit, sighing at how warm it makes you feel. tadashi always makes it so perfectly for you and you can’t help but feel extremely safe in this moment as he stands next to you silently, though his eyes are asking for an explanation.

“my mom yelled at me again, but it was worse this time.” you sigh, tears starting to sting your eyes again at the recollection of your previous screaming match with your mother.

“about what this time?” yamaguchi asks, locking his eyes with yours. his demeanor is soft but his gaze is harsh and you can tell he’s upset that this is happening again.

“all i did is forget to wash the dishes and it led to her screaming at me that i’m a lazy, good for nothing piece of shit who leeches off of her for food and shelter. basically the usual spiel of how i’m useless and just take up space. how she wishes she never had me because then she’d have one less problem to worry about.” you explain, attempting to choke back the sob forming in your throat. you don’t notice since your eyes are focused on the mug in your hands, but yamaguchi’s own orbs are brimmed with tears. he sets his mug down on the counter beside you and moves between your legs so that he could be as close to you as possible.

“hey, look at me.” he says, but you refuse. you hate having him see you like this. it’s only happened once before and you swore it wouldn’t happen again but here you are, sitting on his kitchen counter while forcing yourself not to break down in front of him. after you disregard his request, he takes matters into his own hands.

he cups the sides of your face timidly with both of his hands, them still being warm from holding his mug. he lifts your head so that your eyes meet his and you feel your heart flutter a bit. you notice the tears that have yet to leave his eyes, resting there but threatening to spill over at any second. instinctively, you reach up to wipe the tears away as you see them finally fall and he smiles a weak smile at you.

“you’re not useless y/n.” he starts “you are so, so special whether your mom sees that or not. i truly hate that she doesn’t. because if she could even just see a fraction of the most mesmerizing sides of you that i get to see everyday, maybe she would change. or maybe she wouldn’t. despite what she thinks, i know how genuine and kind you are. i know how beautiful and selfless you are. you’re far from good for nothing, i hope you know that. and if you don’t, i’m more than willing to help you realize just how incredible you really are, because i love you. i love you a lot y/n, and i hate seeing you so upset. so i’ll do whatever i can to make it better. i promise.” yamaguchi confesses. tears are streaming down both of your faces at this point. this is everything you need to hear right now and then some, and you feel completely at ease with yamaguchi’s words.

“i love you too tadashi, thank you so much. god, i love you.” you coo before lightly grasping the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss. your action catches him off guard at first, so he’s a bit timid in terms of kissing you back, but after a few seconds he catches the rhythm and kisses you softly.

“you can stay here if you want, for as long as you need.” he offers, giving you a shy smile.

“i’d love that.” you smile back.

tendou

- you and tendou have a very playful friendship

- always play fighting or teasing each other and whatnot

- the typical ‘we like each other and everyone around us knows we like each other but we’re completely oblivious so we don’t know we like each other’ type friendship

- one day the two of you are at tendou’s house at the kitchen table “studying” (which really means “fighting”) as per usual

- tendou playfully hits you very lightly, not even a toddler would have been fazed by the slight shove

- but you wince roughly at the touch

- and tendou gets suspicious

“i barely even touched you, what’s up?” tendou asks for what seems to you like the billionth time.

“it’s nothing, i was messing around. just drop it.” you huff, growing annoyed at tendou’s persistence in finding out what the issue is.

“the look on your face was clearly not a joke y/n, tell me why it hurt so bad? what aren’t you telling me?” tendou pushes and you’ve just about reached your limit.

“i said it’s nothing so just please stop fucking asking, ok?” you snap, though in the process you lift your arms to cover your face in aggravation. the motion raises your shirt a bit, allowing tendou to catch a glimpse of the huge dark purple bruise spread across your ribs.

“y/n. what the hell happened? that looks terrible.” tendou whispers, the shock of what he has just seen revoking his ability to speak out loud. you catch his gaze locked on your stomach and quickly remove your hands from your face, not even realizing that the movement had lifted your shirt. your face flushes to a sickly shade, all life leaving your body as you realize you can’t lie your way out of this anymore. you have never in your life had someone look at you with as much concern as tendou is now looking at you with, his eyes scanning your face dumbfoundedly as he anticipates your answer to his question. you sigh heavily, mentally preparing yourself for the draining information you’re about to tell.

“well um. i got into a disagreement with my dad.” is all you can manage to get out. you planned on explaining more, but just bringing it up makes your stomach curdle with fear and you feel as though you’re about to vomit. tendou notices and rests a comforting hand on your thigh, rubbing it in small gentle motions.

“he hit you?” tendou asks softly, trying to better grasp the situation.

“well he was drunk and i had an attitude with him, so he got a little worked up and ended up pushing me over. i fell and hit my side on the kitchen table on my way down. but it was just an accident, it’s ok. i made him upset and he pushed me. i just lost my balance is all. it’s not his fault.” you find yourself trying to defend your father and you don’t even know why. you know him pushing you wasn’t an accident. you falling and hitting the table was, but that doesn’t diminish the fact that your father just grunted at you as he watched you sob on the floor in agonizing pain before going back to his previous spot on the couch and finishing off his glass of whiskey. but you don’t want to tell tendou that.

“y/n no, that’s not ok.” tendou’s voice breaks and your heart breaks with it. “accident or not, no man should be putting their hands on you like that. better yet, your own father. is this the first time he’s done something like this?” tendou asks, attempting to keep his voice steady but failing.

you shake your head no and tendou sighs, shaking his head in dismay.

“i need to get you out of that house y/n. i’ll figure something out.”

“no satori, it’s fine. i’m fine. i can hold my own.” you argue.

“i’m not denying that you can, but i’d feel like the most terrible human being on earth if i let you go back there and something else ends up happening to you. so you’re staying here. my parents and i will figure out a way to take care of any legal actions that need to be made, but until then you are staying here and i will not let you argue with that.” tendou states firmly. although his words are firm, you can see in his eyes that he’s hurting for you. you couldn’t argue with him even if you wanted and luckily, you don’t want to.

“thank you tendou, that means more to me than you’ll ever know.” you say.

“you don’t need to thank me, i care about you too much to see you get hurt. i want you right here with me so i can know you’re ok.” he says, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. you melt at his sweet gesture, and suddenly feel like everything will actually be ok.

kageyama

- kageyama is very attentive and tends to notice things about you that the typical outside viewer wouldn’t pick up on

- like the way you’ve been spacing out whenever he speaks to you

- or the way you flinch whenever someone slightly raises their voice around you

- the way your eyes look tired and lifeless lately, despite the huge smile you may be carrying on your face

- he has a hunch that he knows what’s going on, so he pulls you aside after his practice that you sat and watched while doing homework to talk

“hey y/n, can i talk to you for a second?” kageyama asks as he walks to your spot in the stands. you frown up at him, not really sure what he would want to talk about, but you shrug with a quick ‘sure’ and let him lead you behind the gym. you frown again because this is where he takes you whenever he has something serious to tell you, or when either of you are having a really bad day and need to express your emotions in private.

“what’s up?” you ask curiously, searching his eyes for any sort of hint of what he’s about to say.

“that’s sort of what i want to ask you. what’s up with you lately? i mean, you’ve been pretty good at hiding it, but i can tell something’s going on with you and it’s not good. i just wanna make sure you’re ok.” he says softly. you contemplate telling him what’s been going on at home, his gentle expression seems so caring and genuine. it’s difficult for you not to just open up to him and let him in. but you’re scared of what he might think or how he may react, so you bow your head down to avoid eye contact and mutter,

“it’s nothing really. school has just been a bit stressful is all.”

“you’re lying.”

“what?” you ask, lifting your head to meet his gaze once more. to you, your performance was believable. but kageyama’s been your best friend for the past two years now so he’s become somewhat of a master in knowing whether you’re being honest with him or not.

“you’re lying. what’s really going on?” he asks. he’s looking down at you with his deep blue eyes drowning in concern. you can tell he won’t let you leave without hearing the genuine truth, so you decide it’s for the best not to lie anymore.

“my mom hit me the other day and we haven’t really talked since.” you explain sadly, tilting your head down again. kageyama sighs at your confession because his hunch is correct, and he hates that it is. “we were arguing as usual, but this time she umm, she got a bit too carried away.” you continue. kageyama physically feels his heart break for you. he’s always known how terrible your relationship with your mother was from his first few weeks of knowing you. you would constantly tell him all the awful words she spewed at you in the heat of your arguments, and he was always there to comfort and reassure you afterwards. but it was always verbal, never physical so he wasn’t quite sure if him stepping in to try and help would do any good or just make matters worse. but hearing that it’s now escalated to physical harm makes his stomach ache.

“i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve helped when i first heard about how she was speaking to you. that should’ve been my first sign that something like this would happen. i feel terrible for not doing anything.” he let’s out, his head now bowing along with yours.

“hey.” you say in an almost whisper, lifting his head up by placing your finger underneath his chin. his tear glistened eyes meet yours and you can feel the guilt radiating from his body which makes your heart shatter. “none of this is any of your fault. you did help me, ok? you’re the only person i’ve ever even told any of this to and you have always been there to comfort me when i do. you’ll never realize how much that means to me tobio. i appreciate you so much.” you explain.

his eyes jump back and forth between yours as he absorbs everything you just said. then his eyes glance down to your lips and linger there for a moment. yours do the same to his, both of you mentally questioning whether or not you should just go for it. eventually the pressure of the moment pushes you two together and your lips graze tenderly. kageyama’s hands find their place on your hips as your arms wrap behind his neck instinctively. the kiss is sweet and filled with so many emotions. most importantly, it’s filled with love. a kiss that you both have been craving for so long yet never had the guts to pursue. and finally, you’re able to give in. after a few moments you pull away, flushed and flustered a bit yet completely content.

“you can stay at my place tonight. we can figure out how everything will play out once we get there.” kageyama says as more of a question than a statement. you just smile and kiss him again in response.

you’re slightly worried about what the future holds, but having kageyama by your side will forever ease your nerves.

kuroo

- though kuroo can be a bit of a tease sometimes, he’s also immensely caring for those that he loves

- you being one of the people that he loves beyond words

- though he hasn’t confessed it yet

- means he’s very protective of you and would do anything to keep you from getting hurt

- he’s always been your rock, and you his

- so when he finds out that your parents have been emotionally damaging you

- he gets fairly upset

“jesus, i look so disgusting.” you say in what you think is a joking manner while looking at yourself in kuroo’s closet mirror. but the way kuroo’s head snaps up from his phone to give you a glare, you can tell he didn’t take it as a joke.

“why are you always talking about yourself like that?” he frowns.

“like what?” you respond dumbly, knowing exactly what he means but really not wanting to embark on your trauma right now.

“you’re always referring to yourself as if you’re the grossest thing in existence and it hurts me to hear you say those things. is there a reason why you feel like that?” he asks, sitting up straighter on the bed to get a better view of you in the mirror. you sigh and turn to face him, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it.

“yeah, i guess there is a reason.” you admit, looking down at your hands as you fidget with them.

“well, what’s the reason?” kuroo asks. you look up at him nervously. you told yourself that this is something you would always keep to yourself because you don’t want to bombard others with your issues. but there’s something about kuroo that makes it immensely difficult not to just tell him everything. maybe it’s the way he fully listens to you whenever you have something to say. it’s like nothing and no one else around him matters but you and whatever you have to tell him. he always makes you feel heard and validated. important. something you never get at home.

“it’s just my parents i guess. no matter what i do, i’m never good enough for them. i’m always trying so hard to impress them, make them happy. but all i get in return is being yelled at and told how much of a disappointment i am. do you know how hard that is? being the best version of yourself that you can possibly be and still not being enough for the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally? it hurts so bad kuroo, and it makes me feel like i’m nothing. so that’s why i’m always talking about myself like that. because it’s how i see myself, as nothing.” you tear up. hot tears begin rolling down your face uncontrollably as soft sobs leave your body. kuroo completely softens at your words, moving closer to you so he can wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. he pulls you closer to him, your head tucked into his chest while his large arms suffocate you in his warm embrace.

“i’m so sorry y/n. words can be so damaging, especially coming from your own parents and i really wish you didn’t have to go through that. because now you don’t even see yourself the way you should see yourself. the way i see you.” kuroo says, trailing off a bit on the last line. “i think you are the most captivating person i have ever met and probably ever will meet. every time i’m around you i just can’t help but feel this sharp pang in my heart which i can only assume is love. because i feel it when you’re gone too. you’re unbelievably amazing y/n, and insanely beautiful too. please don’t let your parents destroy that for you, although i don’t think they ever could.” kuroo finishes.

you lift your head from his chest and look into kuroo’s kind hazel eyes as he looks back at you, flashing a small smile.

“that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me tetsu.” you smile “and i love you too.” you finish causing kuroo to immediately go red. he was somewhat hoping you would have forgotten or missed his accidental love bomb, but how could you? you’ve been waiting to say the words yourself for who knows how long, so your heart almost couldn’t take it when it slipped from kuroo’s lips.

“thank god.” kuroo laughs lightly, “now what are we gonna do about your parents?”

“completely forget about them?” you joke, though in the back of your mind you’re somewhat serious.

“i was thinking confront them and put them in their place, but that works too.” kuroo chuckles before lightly grasping your chin and kissing you. you’ve never felt happier nor safer than you do in this exact moment.

1K notes · View notes

havin-a-wee · 3 years

Text

001. Under the Bed

hello! this is the first of many little stories from my new series, A Family Affair! I will make a series masterlist once i have a few posted, and feel free to request something for the series! this one is based on this request so thank you to them for the idea! it's not exact but i hope it will do!

Kids ages: Zander (17), Sydney/Syd (15), Delaney/Laini (13), Colton/Cole (11), Blair/B (8), Parker (8), Hadley (8)

001. Under the Bed - in which Y/N finds cigarettes under Zander's bed

“Harry…”

Your call out to your husband was intended to be loud, but it came out soft and shaky, mimicking your shaking hands.

There was a pack of Marlboro cigarettes in your sweaty palm, and even looking at them made you nauseous. You were doing the laundry and couldn’t find the second sock in a pair that belongs to your oldest kid, Zander. You went up to his room (he’s at school) and stuck your hand under the bed, fishing around for the missing sock. But instead of finding it, you found the pack of cigarettes that your eyes were now locked on. Luckily, it’s unopened, but the fact that he has it in the first place is incredibly upsetting.

“Honey? You okay?” Harry pops his head around the door after following your voice to find you. “Why did you ca-” He cut himself off, swallowing thickly when he noticed the small box in your hand. “Where did you find that?”

“It was under his bed.”

“Bloody hell,” his voice filled with anger and he flicked his wrist to check his watch. “He gets home in half an hour, let’s talk to him then.” You nod, dropping the hand with the cigarettes to your side.

“Think we should talk to all of them, ‘cept the triplets.”

“Yeah, yeah we should.” Both of you are staring at the ground, somewhat ashamed. Zander is your kid, he should know better than this.

“When you pick them up don’t mention it, wait ‘till you get home.” Harry only nods in response, embracing you in a tight hug before stepping out of the room to get in his car.

It takes you about 5 minutes of contemplating before you sulk downstairs, placing the pack in your pocket and resting your elbows on the kitchen island with your face buried in your hands. You’re furious, but even more so disappointed. You and Harry are easy going parents, not the type of people to enforce too many rules and neither of you are fans of punishments, preferring to ensure your kids learn from their mistakes rather than just grounding them. But one of the few strict rules you set in place for your kids is absolutely no smoking cigarettes. And up until this point you had been sure that the rule was being followed.

Your head perks up when you hear the door open, your three eight year olds bounding through the door. You smile at them, albeit not genuinely, and give them a welcoming hug. You bend down to meet their level, and quietly ask them to go up to their rooms, and they quickly oblige.

“All of yeh come sit.” Your kids are busy removing their shoes and coats, and you can see them exchange confused glances at Harry’s request. Regardless, they follow his instructions, taking up 4 out of 6 of the barstools on the other side of the island. Harry had made his way to stand next to you, hand rubbing up and down the small of your back.

“What’s wrong?” Cole speaks up, brows furrowed in confusion. You reach your hand into your pocket and pull out the small box, smacking it in front of your kids on the counter a little too hard. You and Harry examine their faces closely, noticing the perplexed demeanor of Sydney, Delaney, and Cole, and the way that Zander’s face turned a ghostly white when he saw it.

“Zander, y’mum found this under y’bed.” A few oohs were directed at him by his siblings, but one angry glare from you and they stopped. “I thought we made it clear tha’ none of you are ever to smoke cigarettes. Did we not make it clear enough?” The 4 children shake their heads, Zander’s response being more frenzied than the others.

“Well Zander, if you know that is one of our only strictly enforced rules, why would these be under your bed?”

“I- uh,” he sighs, looking defeated. “I’m really sorry. My friend’s brother gave us two packs and I took that one home.”

“And what happened to the other pack?” Despite your initial anger, your voice was laced with sympathy, unable to be angry when his face expressed his regret so clearly.

“We shared it with some other people,” he responds, not looking up from his lap.

“So yeh smoked one?” Unlike you, Harry was getting angrier, his tone of voice rising as he interrogated his son.

“Only one.”

You see Harry go to speak through your peripheral vision, but you speak before him, wanting to give the speech seeing as you are more level-headed. “I have to say your dad and I are very disappointed. Extremely actually. We are very lenient with you kids, and nothing is stopping us from being stricter on you guys. But you chose to break one of the biggest rules of this house, and not only does that make us disappointed in you, but also disappointed in ourselves. We wanted you three to be here,” you gesture to the younger kids, “because we wanted you to learn this lesson as well. This is the first time something like this has happened, and despite what Harry might want we are not going to ground you or take away your phone. But if any of you ever do something like this again, there will be serious consequences. Understand?”

They all respond immediately with “Yes mom,” and Harry then dismisses Sydney, Delaney, and Cole, hoping to talk to Zander alone.

“Your mum is bein’ much nicer than I would’ve been, so be happy she’s so understanding. But Zander, you have to promise us tha’ nothing like this will ever happen again. Either y’need to get y’friend to stop too or stop being friends with him. Or, as y’mum said, there will be very serious consequences.”

“I understand, I’m really, really sorry and I promise it won’t happen again.” Zander switches his focus from you to Harry, and the tears welling in his eyes are a sign of his sincerity. You glance at Harry and nod, signalling to him that it’s time to stop grilling him.

You reach your arms out and gesture for Zander to come and hug you, and he accepts the invitation quickly, jumping out of his seat and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. Harry soon joins the two of you, creating a small group hug.

“I love you mom and dad.”

“We love you more.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles blog #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles post #one direction #fine line

145 notes · View notes

naralanis · 3 years

Text

A Luthor’s Gambit

The pneumatic hiss of the sealed doors is a deafening sound in the small space of the decontamination chamber—it reverberates off the metal walls, and the sudden change in pressure moves the air in an imitation of a breeze. It ruffles the stray hairs that have escaped Lena's bun and brings the sterile scent of the containment unit to her nose in one sudden waft.

She's used to it by now, but those first few seconds are always a bit of an adjustment—the hiss of the door, the smell of disinfectant, the hum of the air filtration devices that run 24/7 no matter what... and, of course, the green glow of the room.

There's a faint clacking coming from the other end of the room—the sound of plastic hitting plastic, muted by the constant buzz of the lights and filters and the occasional beeping of monitoring machinery. Everything is white, sterile, and a little unnerving, considering the ominous green of the lamps evenly spaced on the ceiling.

The clacking continues as Lena makes her way in—there is a small table by something that could be described as a window (it is in fact an incredibly complex projection to provide the illusion of one). One of the two metal chairs by said table is occupied by a figure, clad in white, hunched over a chessboard, methodically moving pieces around with determined focus.

“Good morning, doctor,” her subject speaks lowly, without turning to face her. “Or is it afternoon already?”

Lena smiles as she approaches—it's only a little bit forced. “Afternoon,” she says as she takes the seat she has come to think of as hers. “But only just.”

The other woman hums noncommittally. Her blonde hair Is tied into a ponytail, out of her face, and her cool gaze studies the chessboard with unrelenting focus. Lena peers over her clipboard, taking mental notes for the time being as she follows the chess pieces with undisguised interest.

“Are you practicing your openings?”

Clack—another piece finds its place on the board.

“I am working through all the possible variations of the Sicilian Defense.” Clack. “I honestly don't see what all the fuss is about with the Najdorf. But Sveshnikov”—clack— “Sveshnikov's is much more... inspired.” Clack.

Lena leans back, crossing her legs and dashing off short notes on her clipboard. The young woman is used to this, and doesn't speak again until Lena is finished. Their gazes meet over the carefully arranged chess pieces, only for a moment—there is no recognition in the coolness of those blue eyes, and Lena has to pretend it doesn’t affect her.

“You seem to be in better spirits today,” she comments. It's true—despite her withdrawn demeanor, the blonde seems... better. Lighter, somehow. It's good to see it, even if the change is so small it could very well be entirely insignificant.

But it isn't. Not to Lena.

“The agent brought a cat yesterday,” the young woman clarified, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she resets the board.

“Oh?” Lena questions, brow raised. Her hand twitches around the pen she's holding—she holds off the impulse to take more notes. She hadn't been notified of visit yesterday, but she is glad for it. “How was it?” she asks instead, setting the clipboard aside for now, a signal that this is just... a conversation, nothing more.

“It was a kitten,” the blonde clarifies, grinning and holding out her hand. “He was so small—I could hold him with one hand.”

Lena smiles—she can't help it when she sees some genuine happiness in those eyes. “And how did that feel? Holding him?”

There's a pause—the blonde looks at the flexing fingers of her own hand for a few moments, as if remembering the weight of the kitten in her palm. “Fuzzy,” she replies, finally, releasing a little laugh. “And a little pointy. And... warm. He was so small—and cute. He fell asleep on my chest. It was nice.”

“That does sound nice,” Lena agrees. “Maybe Agent Danvers will be able to bring him again sometime soon, huh?”

The young woman's smile widens, and she finally directs her gaze at Lena, and keeps it there. “I would like that—very much. I've never seen a kitten in real life before. It was... nice.”

Lena's smile falters a touch, but she is careful not to let it show. “You have—you've even held kittens before,” she says gently, biting at the inside of her cheek. “You just don't remember—but you will, Kara.”

Kara deflates slightly—her name may as well be a number, for all the familiarity she has with it. “I know. I know.”

Lena can feel herself tense in her seat, but she pushes her most hopeless thoughts aside for the time being, grasping at her clipboard until her knuckles go white. She has a job to do.

“Well. Besides the kitten—how are you doing?”

The blonde shrugs. “Same old, same old. I finished All the Pretty Horses earlier today. God, what a boring book.” Her eyes wonder, as if she's trying to remember the most mundane details about her day. “Those” —she gestures towards the ceiling, at the green glowing lamps above them — "buzz a lot—sometimes enough to keep me awake at night. They give me headaches.”

Lena notes it dutifully on her clipboard. “The Kryptonite in these lamps is synthetic,” she explains, not for the first time. “This particular strain shouldn't affect you at a molecular level at this dosage, but I'll take another look at them to be safe. In the meantime,... you could probably use some aspirin.”

It feels like a cruel joke, telling this superpowered being to take some aspirin—almost as cruel as having to use this strain of Kryptonite to keep her safe from the strain poisoning the atmosphere outside.

There's another shrug, and just like that, blue eyes refocus almost entirely on the chessboard. Lena watches wordlessly for the few moments it takes Kara to reset the whole thing one more time.

The rook the Kryptonian holds gleams green under the lamps.

“So, Doctor Luthor,” she says, going about completing the set, pieces clacking away. “Fancy a game?”

Clack.

Also on AO3

#look ma i wrote a little something #do i know where it's going?#nah #do i have a plan?#also this was for perhaps #but the brain has been unclogged I guess #hooray for brain draino #nara writes #supercorp #Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious #lena luthor #kara danvers #let there be angst

121 notes · View notes

rouiyan · 3 years

Text

𝘖𝘍𝘍 𝘐𝘊𝘌 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

⧏ jeno's installment of the keep your cool collective ⧐

synopsis: he likes to think it's romantic how he always finishes your sentences for you. you think it's annoying that he keeps interrupting you.

✧ ice hockey player!lee jeno x (fem.) tutor!reader ✧ college au

✧ genres : fluff, angst, slightly suggestive ✧ word count : 4.4k ✧ disclaimers : mentions of sexual activities, swearing

✧ author’s note — same universe as my puck in your goal which does not need to be read first but can be. also, hi @crownily i did it :)

let's just say jeno sucks at school and that the one thing he doesn't suck at is hockey, ice hockey. and let's just say that you're his tutor, strictly for tutoring purposes. yet, here you find yourself at his doorstep at 3:47 in the morning, or so your phone says.

he opens up to see you clad dressed down, different from the neat tee and skirt he's so used to. to be completely honest, jeno has never felt anything towards you and even he himself finds that hard to believe since you're everything he could ever ask for in a girl. pretty and cute, snappy but sweet, the most perfect curve of lips and above all, you're an intellectual. he finds it attractive but he isn't attracted to you, per se.

jeno wished he would though, especially now that he's suffering from what he called you here for in the first place: an extreme case of breakup.

one hand leaning your weight on the doorframe, the right of your shit rides up. jeno bites down on his lip, retracting his eyes to your face. "let me get this straight, you called me here, at this time of night, to get me to help you with what exactly?" so what if he thought fucking you would be a good way to keep his mind off things? too bad he didn't think any further than that. the words come to his as he speaks, "i just thought that- that...you- you would be awake at this time! because you know- you like to study…did i interrupt anything?"

donning a dreary expression, you nod in clarification, "yeah, you interrupted my studying."

"right, okay, i'll let you get back to that," he turns in haste as if to close the door behind him but you catch it with your heel, a scowl making its way across your face at what you were about to say, "forget it, jen, i'm already here. what do you need help with?" you stare into his back, his widening eyes unbeknownst to you. he turns again, now deliberate in motion, just to give him as much time to get his bearings together. lifting one shoulder in suggestion, and truthfully confusion, his voice is a pitch higher when he responds, "...studying?"

and that's how he finds himself staring into the crack between the wall and the far end of his desk, your figure hovering above him but not in the way he'd planned for, planned poorly for. jeno is on edge and frankly, he feels incredibly bad because he doesn't understand anything that comes from your mouth and the words you jot down on his paper before him all seem to collide and blur into each other. that's when he realizes he's started crying.

and that's when you're rendered speechless as the boy sits there, the little tracks running down his face wetting the paper you were teaching off of. "jeno, oh my god. fuck, you good?" you don't want to come off as prying so you avoid the whole 'why' notion but you're not that socially inept to miss that he didn't call you here at such an ungodly hour of morning just to get some unpaid tutor hours in and he certainly isn't crying because he doesn't understand shit.

a hand of his is sifting through his hair while another rubs harshly down the side of his face. "i don't think you should- i'm just gonna go get you some tissues, i'll- i'll go get that." you turn on your heel and navigate your way from his room to the kitchen you'd passed on the way in. it's dark and you know he has roommates, you were less than willing to make your presence known. to your dismay, the kitchen was currently being occupied by a man whom you've yet to identify, being only two steps in when you stop in your tracks.

he identifies you first, "y/n, what are you doing here?" and you pick up from the voice that it's donghyuck. your foot hits a cabinet before your eyes get a chance to adjust to the lighting, "fuck, yeah i'm here with jeno, well i'm not- not like that, we're just studying."

"just studying?" there's no way to see it but you swear the cock of his brows is apparent as it would be at day. you hum in response, fingers trying to make out the paper towel dispenser you were sure you caught a glimpse of on the way in. "so you're saying," he pulls out his phone and the light that emits from the screen is enough to guide you in the right direction before he shoves is back in his pocket. "that you booked a tutoring session with him at 4:19 a.m.?"

tearing one, then two, from the dispenser, you distractedly let a disbelieving, "yup," past your lips. hyuck scrutinizes you in the dark and his next words nearly shock you out of your skin, "is he fucking you because he just got dumped? is that why?"

you swivel at lightning speed, "he what?" hand over his mouth, donghyuck seems genuinely apologetic, though you wouldn't put it past him if he was not, "shit, you didn't know?" folding the paper towels two times over in your hands, you gingerly across the room to where the boy is seated, "i mean, i know that he didn't call me here just to study but that's legitimately what we ended up doing." he doesn't answer for awhile so you follow up with a question, "you think he wants to fuck me?"

hyuck looks you straight in the eye, "yeah, yeah i do." it hangs unsaid in the air between the two of you, but it's within both of your knowledge that jeno only wanted you here for sexual relief from his frustrations, that whatever else could be denoted by the deed was simply inapplicable for this situation. you shake your head of the thoughts, "so, what are you doing up this early?" you know that there is a weary and weeping jeno you have to get back to but you also know that your presence is somewhat unwelcome there, uncomfortable even, while he wades in his fit of tears.

hyuck replies with a heavy tone, "he gave me some things to think about too."

and you jump to conclusions all too quickly, "he wants to fuck you too?"

"god, y/n, no."

a weak laugh lining your demeanor after the last of the interaction, you reenter jeno's room to find him sprawled wide, his back to the bed. "hey," you preface as you round upon his bed, setting the paper towels on his nightstand. it seemed his tears had run their race and his eyes were now staring lethargically into the ceiling. perching yourself on the edge, you reach to place a hand atop one of his, giving two reassuring squeezes. "need anything?"

only now does jeno seem to take note of your arrival, his eyes hooded eyes flit to you for half a second before resolutely tugging you by the hand you had clasped within his. "what-" your breath is stolen from you as your back hits his chest. jeno drapes his arms across you front, "jeno, what-"

"i need a pillow, that's what i need."

you blink, trying to make sense of your thoughts, "did you ask me here to fuck you numb?" his body goes rigid underneath yours and you're right to assume that you've pinpointed the answer. "i'm right, huh?" eyeing downwards, his fingers are fiddling for you to see. after a few moments laid in bated breath, he lets weakly, "sorry about that, it's not gonna happen."

"yeah no shit," is said dulcetly despite the denotation. you feel his chuckles reverberate beneath you. "i'm really sorry, i swear i don't think of you that way." a smile upon your own face, you turn in his arms to place an expression to his voice. propping your head up on your folded arms, your arms atop his chest, you peer into his eyes sincerely. there is much that needs to be said, the reasonings behind his unexpected breakdown and the closeness you suddenly feel with still have to be addressed. but at this hour in the morning, you can't bring yourself to.

instead you query, "should i stay the night?" he peers into your eyes with equal sincerity when he responds, "it's already early morning, you'd probably be off better sleeping here." giving a soft nod and a few moments to rearrange your thoughts, you perk up again just as he's about to fall asleep. he isn't annoyed in the slightest, rather he smiles at that, your voice, "do you have practice tomorrow?"

it's his turn to give a nod in response. "wanna come watch?" your arms move around his chest, encasing him like how he's encased you. hiding your smile in the front of his sweatshirt, your voice comes out muffled, "i'd love to but i'm a bit busy, jen. next time, maybe."

at your response, it's the first time that jeno feels, acknowledges, that his heart drops, even though it's in the slightest. there's an image of you in the stands, your textbooks in your lap and glasses sliding down the bridge of your nose. the image moves as he moves cross the rink and you look up when he passes by, eyes bright and a small smile and thumbs up in encouragement. from then on, it's that image that's plastered in his mind every time he thinks of you, that one self-conjured image.

jeno feels his heart drop even more when he awakes to an empty bed. he finds that the text that you've sent in departure isn't nearly enough to repair his spirits, he wishes you were there instead.

practice sucks ass the next day and the day after that, he doesn't pay it any mind, knowing more than well enough how renjun whispers of the news of his breakup among the members. he doesn't hold it against him though, after all, his ex is his teammate's best friend. jeno thinks it hurts the most when his ex shows up at the next game, the one he'd invited you to when you'd crossed paths on campus a few days ago. he finds himself in a weird predicament between trying to forget about a girl and chasing after another one. he can't tell if he really likes you or if he just needs a rebound.

today, jeno decides it's the latter because he's fuming the entire game at how hyuck would send winks in her direction, how he would skate up to the edge of the rink to converse with her during their breaks. jeno hates how she's moved on all too easily and he feels and urge to prove that he can do the same. he wants to prove to himself.

he's let almost every goal in by the time the buzzer signals the end of the final round. the coach reprimands him because at this point, he might as well be from the opposing team. the helmet is off in a split second, he showers for the briefest of moments, only allowing the water to slosh across his body one time before he's patting himself dry. jeno slips the towel from his shoulder throws on a hoodie in its stead. he's out the locker room in bare minutes where he comes face to face with you. you, with the little sheepish, apologetic smile on your face. you, who'd just arrived from your shift at the local cat adoption center, late for the game but in just time for him. you, the only person he's been aching to see the whole day. but even now, he's unsure of exactly why.

"y/n, hey," he's by your side in an instant, hesitant in his actions but words tumbling out nonetheless, "you came. late, but...you came."

you meet him in the middle, hands coming up to your aid and waving nonsensically as you speak, "i'm so sorry, my shift was extended and i forgot to tell my boss beforehan-"

"it's fine, i'm just glad you're here." he readjusts the bag onto his shoulders in a nervous fit. he barely manages to make eye contact with you and he wonders when he started to feel this way about you or, again, the desire for a rebound, his need for a taste of vengeance is willing him to act this way. jeno shrugs off the thought and fills the silence with an offer, "so do you wanna go...do something together?"

jeno should know by now. the little sparkle that glints in your eyes and the way his stomach upturns itself in response. he should know by now how much you like him too. hyuck exits the locker rooms in that instant, he greets you in passing as he joins a girl up ahead. you turn back to jeno, momentarily distracted, only to find his gaze hardened and fixed on the girl. a sickening feeling erupts within you as you begin to piece one and one to make two.

he turns back to you and you avoid his gaze. the shift in your countenance jolts him as much as his had jolted you. you lick your lips before looking back up at him, your own eyes guarded. he wishes he knew why. "jeno, i'm gonna have to rain check. i just- i thought of something- something came up. i have to go."

you're stalking away from him before he can even process it. he's lucky that his strides are long because he catches your wrist right before you get to the exit, "y/n," he tugs gently so that you turn to him but he's caught off guard even more when he sees the tears that have begun to form in your eyes. "why are you like this all of a sudden? what happened?"

you shake your head at him, hurriedly swallowing the sobs before you can embarrass yourself even further, "nothing, jeno. i just realized something." you stare down at his wrist expectantly but he only clutches it tighter, "then, what did you realize?"

he lets go of your wrist now and you feel like your heart couldn't get any heavier as you answer, "i realized that i'm just a fill-in until you get over her." jeno sucks in a breath as he watched the words leave your mouth, as he watches you turn and leave, and he hears more tears bubble from your frame, the sounds receding the farther you walk from him. for some reason, it's only when you tell him so that he understands that he feels the exact opposite.

it's only when you shove it in his face, your own face scrunched up in tears, that he's only going after you as a rebound, when he sees his feelings for what they really are. honest, jeno finds it hard to believe that he's never felt anything towards you since you're everything he could ever ask for in a girl. pretty and cute, snappy but sweet, the most perfect curve of lips and above all, you're an intellectual. he finds it attractive, he finds you attractive. fuck it, he likes you.

fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, your next tutoring session was scheduled for just a few days after, just enough time for him to get his act together and enough for you to cool your head enough sift through the thirty or so voice mails he'd left you. most of them seem to contain the same rueful, repentant tone, though a few seem to be displaying his slow spiral into self-deprecation. you're pretty sure the last is a mistake, a butt dial maybe.

jeno's not proficient with the knife, definitely not with how he's cutting the pears right now. he thinks he would've been better off bringing bananas but that would've seemed too insincere, wouldn't it? his thoughts are jumbling and sludging against one another when a finger of his slips and the fine edge of the knife is pressed on a knuckle. "fuck," he swears, his other hand already reaching over to the sink to run the cut under cold water. the sting is piercing and he looks away from the cut to the clock overhead. "double fuck," he mutters this time. the last thing he needs right now is you thinking that he stood you up.

with steadfast athleticism, he finishes off the last of the pears with one hand. he's sure you'd laugh at the whole debacle if you were there though he's thankful you're not. jeno faces the fear that he sucks at everything except ice hockey, and he's barely getting by these days. he only ever feels confident on the rink with his stick in hand, crouched low so his eyes were level with the ice. he's never felt that much control over anything else, much less confessing to a girl and trying, somehow, to show that she was of much more worth than what he'd made it seem like.

the library is a ten minute walk from his house, a three minute sprint. yes, he had sprinted.

he knows for a fact that pears were the right way to go when you let the tiniest of smiles adorn your face at the sight of him setting the tupperware in front of you. you check your expression back into taut impassivity before he can indulge in his victory any longer. he knows you're not half as mad as you present yourself to be but that doesn't mean he'd take his mistakes lightly and go about this sleazily. jeno needs your trust.

you resist the urge to reach over and flip over the hair that stood upright on the wrong side of his head. reverting your eyes onto the computer screen before you, "let's get started." not a half hour into your session, you're spaced out, eyes zoned onto the way jeno spins his pen between his fingers. maybe it's the lack of sleep that's getting to you.

"y/n? you good?"

you swallow thickly, removing your gaze from his hands, from him, from his paper, from anything that has to do with him. you notice how your chair has inched closer to his, or his to yours, you notice the finger-wide distance between you and him. shivers are sent down your spine. "let's take a break, is that fine?" jeno, from beside you, yawns and for a brief second you think he's about to pull the stretch and hand around shoulder trick. you blush unknowingly.

jeno speaks before you can ask to resume the session, "can i say something?"

"is it work related?" you give your best efforts at keeping your voice level and head turned somewhat in his direction. in your peripheries, he cocks his head to the right, "...no, but we're on break." almost letting a huff escape your complexion, you relent, "fine then, shoot," figuring he would say it anyways.

"i want you to come to our next game."

you're lucky you had the whole scenario thought through, at least something can be harvested from your late nights spent tossing and turning, "i don't think i can-"

"y/n, i haven't even told you when."

"okay fine," you wrinkle your nose in distaste and hand out the truth for him to see, or hear, "i just don't want to." jeno is doing his best, he really is, but he knows that you've heard all that he has to say, if not once, then twenty-nine times over. the last one was a mistake. "did you get my voicemails?"

sighing, you chance a glance at him to see that he isn't the slightest bit annoyed, face drawn into a frown of sorts. you'll never admit that even just the sight could soften your set mindset. consideration replays in your irises when you answer the yes or no question with a decisive nod.

"then i'm sure you understand why i want you to come."

jeno lets you drive him home that day, he'd be the last to complain. the ride is silent from start to finish until right when he's about to close the passenger door, the car parked in front of his shared house. an, "i'll think about it," is what he's left to brew over for the next week or so as he stares that the text, read and unreplied, that he'd sent to remind you of the day and time of the game. he's anxious but it's only to that extent.

it's becoming more and more evident that jeno is loosing his touch on ice. he hates that the only thing he can attribute it to is his dwindling love life. he finds that the enforcer is atypically rough today but he's glad that his role at the goal requires the least interaction and footwork. he'd promised his coach that he would be more wary of his surroundings but he can't help the occasional glance at the rink entrance every once in awhile. what he doesn't understand is that his definition of 'once in awhile' marks at around every thirty seconds.

the last round is the most painful, undoubtedly, because it's as if his defeat is being dragged on and on, as if the giant timer above the rink is ticking to the heartbeat of a dead man.

jeno can is aware that he's breathing. he's aware but he has to double check when the entrance doors open for the last time that game and you've arrived. you're standing by the doorway, apprehensive, but jeno can't get it past his head that you've arrived, that you're here. he'd have gotten decked in the face had you not motioned your head in the direction of the fast approaching puck and the burly man behind it.

he blocks the shot and every shot after. there's no need to wonder why.

the buzzer rings in his head so quick that he thinks time runs on his emotions rather than the clock. his helmet is often in seconds and he's making his way at supersonic speeds to the part of the rail where you're stood. the glass fogs with his breath as he tries to get his words across. 'i'll be quick,' he mouths.

you count two minutes until he's off ice. jeno hasn't bothered to shower, he lacks the patience for it. he sits you down on the lowest of the bleachers, closest to the rink. standing over you, he finds that he has so much to say, so many things he wants to let you know, all the feelings he's ever bottled up for the girl so obviously made for him.

he's never had much of a way with words but he thinks that the romance movies hyuck's made him watch over the years give a pretty good overview of what to say in situations like these, "i'd cross the world for you." you snort back at him, nose crinkling in distaste at his choice of words and poking fun at him with your own, "rink, jeno. you mean you'd cross the rink for me."

"y/n, i'm tryna do something here," he whines, the pout on display mimicking his displeased but light-hearted implications. you're equally as amused, "oh yeah? what are you tryna do?"

"i'm tryna," he takes your two arms in his and wraps them around his middle. you instinctively fist the fabric of his blue jersey at the back, "jeno, what are you-" you stop when a hand of his own comes to trace the lines of your face softly. maybe he can't find the words but surely he could show you. if he could just…"you keep interrupting me, jeno."

drawn from his resolution, he's snappy when he retorts, "i think as your boyfriend i ought to have that privilege."

"boyfriend? since when did you-"

"i just did," he revels in the idea that you think him to be smooth with words when in reality the 'boyfriend' was a slip up, a mirror of his daydreams. he's over the moon that it worked out in his favor. while he fixates on just how much he feels for you, you're playfully annoyed at a whole other, "stop fucking interrupting me, jen-"

"i love you."

you blink up at him. well shit. a lot of things are happening and you lack the brain cells to process them. there's only one thing you can think to do, only one think that you're thinking about, have been thinking about, will still be thinking about.

he may be the one to steal words right from your mouth but beyond that he's oblivious, you think. the smile still plays on his lips when he follows up, "is it okay to interrupt you if i say something like tha-"

you press a smile of your own onto his lips, cutting his words effectively. a hand of yours moves up to the curve of his neck to bring him down further, the angle at which he is kissing giving him all the advantage he needs to deepen it. when you part, you aren't surprised to see how half your body is leaning on the row of seats behind you and that jeno's entire body is sprawled on yours, supported by a knee on one side of you.

you like your lips as you feel his breath hot on yours. "how's it feel now?"

shaking his head, jeno presses his temple to yours so that the only thing you can see is him, just him. "interrupt me any day, will you?"

✧ end note — wrote this up in approx. three hours. lee jeno is so rude for interrupting all my other wips (that are also mostly for him). i hope you enjoyed because i did, i freaking love writing for him <3

#nct jeno #nct scenarios #nct fics #jeno fluff #neothestars #neo-constellations #hockeyplayer!jeno #jeno angst #lee jeno #lee jeno fics #nct jeno fics #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

379 notes · View notes

kitkatixx · 3 years

Text

kirukiyo headcanons (long ish)

If you haven’t noticed-- these two are my otp, and v3 did them both dirty... both in terms of plot and their few interactions (hi, utdp, i’m surprised they didn’t have an event with direct interaction)

I haven’t done these formally but figured I’d drop a few of my headcanons as of now, since the ideas I have for these two are fluid, but the base nature of their relationship remains about the same. You’ll see below the cut, they’re fairly in depth and give some flavor to the characters (especially Kirumi)

general summary

Subtle, subtle, subtle.

These two are experts at keeping their relationship under the table, and it takes the rest of the class--perceptive ones included-- quite a bit of time to figure out they’ve been together, even though many a student (Kokichi, Miu, Rantaro, Kaede) have made jokes about their likeness to a married couple.

While they are more than capable of adapting to the scenario, both of them are private individuals at heart, in spite how their talents require them to be around people nearly at all times. So for Kirumi especially, she prefers someone mature who can respect her desire to keep the limelight out of her personal life. After all, she prefers to keep her home and (incredibly taxing, chaotic) work life separate...

That being said, it is no secret to Class 79 (what I’ve dubbed the v3 cast in my HPA AU) and the upperclassmen (SDR2, DR3, THH) that the Ultimate Maid is a stubborn workaholic.

Thus, it takes a specific type of person to ‘get through’ to her-- specifically requesting her presence at refreshments, politely stopping her in the hallway for a conversation, all as cleverly disguised ‘breaks’ without infringing upon her time and duties. Even if it’s only momentary, small steps, persistence, and patience are key with her, as there is a fine line between obligation and devotion to one’s craft.

Korekiyo happens to be able to see past the professional ‘selflessly devoted’ front that Kirumi maintains nearly at all times, having had the opportunity to observe numerous types of people in his time as an anthropologist, and given what was seen in canon, it’s fairly evident that he was intrigued, speaking highly of her post trial (he even has a FTE in her lab!)

Initially, her insistence on wholeheartedly embodying the values of a proper maid piqued his attention, leading to him to take an interest in getting to know her more-- what makes Miss Tojo who she is, exactly? What motivates her to behave in such a way? And what of the human side of the Ultimate Maid? Such were the questions he wished to answer, and as any good researcher would do, it was necessary to approach this in a straightforward, concise manner.

Because of this unorthodox approach to getting to know her (indirectly) for a scholarly reason, Kirumi had no reason to decline his invitations to converse or shoo him away from observing her everyday duties as she would have done under normal circumstances. This in particular gave Korekiyo an advantage over many of his other peers, who would have had difficulty a) approaching her b) maintaining a sizeable conversation with her before moving onto her next task.

Eventually, the two would find they share similar interests (Victorian customs, tea preparation, etc), and get along well with each other; the meetings that began as strictly for research evolve into moments where two friends are talking.

Down the line, someone catches feels.

Now as for who that could be... let’s move to the next section to answer that.

a few typical who does/is relationship headcanons:

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Korekiyo does. While Kirumi eventually does develop feelings for him first, she won’t act on them out of concern that the quality of her work will be compromised, and stays quiet. Korekiyo, however, takes a little longer after mulling over whether his emotions can be chalked up to his general adoration for all of humanity or genuine feelings for her. He does pick up on small changes in her behavior and routine-- serving his preferred meals and tea at just the right temperature, being especially open to assisting him even when she’s terribly busy, and so on, which motivate him to make the first move. Very small, but incredibly thoughtful of her. He’s always liked the details.

The anthropologist is quite capable of being romantic if he so desires, but decides that with her in particular, it would be best to be polite and to the point. Of course, this is Korekiyo we are talking about, so he’ll still put his own twist on it-- so most likely discreetly slipping her a letter with a proper wax stamp on it expressing his feelings and a carnation, which in Japanese flower language is associated with fascination and distinction.

The letter’s contents include notes of the uniquely human aspects of her he finds especially beautiful, and are highly specific: the faint curve of her mouth that appears for a split-second (when she thinks no one is looking) after someone receives retribution for their antics, her deft, graceful movements as she slices into vegetables and pours tea, the glint in her eye that appears after a particularly challenging request is given... the list could go on and on, he writes, but it would be far too long to be appropriate for this letter, yet Kirumi Tojo’s identity is so much more than only the Ultimate Maid.

Lastly, it finishes with an attached sketch depicting one of the moments ‘when she is the most beautiful,’ showing her in her element... broom in hand, small frown on face, and scolding someone (read: Kokichi) After all, while many miss it, Korekiyo has picked up on the angry micro expressions that flit across her face after something particularly irritating has just occurred, and he loves them-- they make her humanity shine through.

Subsequently, it would prompt her to meet somewhere secluded in the evening if she reciprocates-- her missing presence would be more than enough for him to take the hint. Not that she intended on doing so.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

You’d think it would be Kirumi, but no, Korekiyo is, beneath his unusual charm and charisma, by a margin. After the passing of his sister, it left him hesitant to get close to people at a personal level, which contributes to how he ended up choosing anthropology-- not only to travel and experience the world when she could not, but because it allows for one to be ‘close’ to humans in a removed manner. So while he can easily wax poetry about nearly anything about humans, cultures, or a person, he does this in a very ‘scientific manner’ at times, preferring to view things as an observer rather than a participator. Of course, this aspect of him was integrated into his identity long before HPA, but it is this distanced nature that contributed to his initial indecisiveness about whether his feelings are organic, and the occasional concern about how much emotional intimacy he is obligated to show in a relationship. Luckily, Kirumi isn’t the type to absolutely need direct communication in a relationship, and is more subtle in demeanor as well.

Having been in the service industry for years and hiding her own emotions (from herself as well), Kirumi is proficient at recognizing others’ needs, and picks up on these issues seamlessly. She isn’t exactly the best at opening up either (this is an area of improvement for both of them), but still makes attempts to directly talk to him about this. Generally, their form of communication is largely nonverbal, being highly in tune with each other-- to this couple, actions speak louder than words, but issues like these are best addressed face-to-face, with words, before they fester.

3. Who is the most romantic?

The anthropologist takes the cake here by societal standards-- his love language is giving gifts and words of affirmation, whereas Kirumi prefers acts of service (no surprise there!) but both share quality time as a commonality, and are very attentive towards each other. Regardless of the gift, Korekiyo is always sure to pick something thoughtful and practical, the way she likes things-- though now and then there’s something more material with emotional value in the mix, which she secretly likes. Kirumi is not used to people being so direct in this department with her, so while she’ll politely cite her preference for gifts as something useful, the silk gloves and other paraphernalia he gets her are a nice way to validate she has an identity outside of being a maid.

Not to mention that he has a way with words, and is incredibly proficient at finding 50 unique ways to compliment her in public, much to her chagrin (and hidden embarrassment,) but he takes pride in, citing that she should be more proud of her accomplishments. Nevertheless, Korekiyo still finds her indirect way of showing affection endearing, especially when she attempts to politely deflect compliments as ‘doing what any maid worth their salt would have done.’

Some things never change... even though he and the other members of Class 79 have slowly gotten her to be more open about accepting assistance from others (she’s overworked herself and passed out once!)

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Again, while both of them are capable of (and prefer) being lowkey in public, it’s free real estate in private, so once again, this goes to Korekiyo. His official love language isn’t physical touch, but he embodies all five of them quite well, this one very much included.

Kirumi, on the other hand, doesn’t like PDA out of professionalism, which makes her a bit hesitant, even in the privacy of his or her room to be comfortable with it. This isn’t to say she isn’t curious or won’t even consider the possibility, but it takes her a considerable amount of time to warm up to it. Initially, the most you’ll see from them in public is subtle touches on each other’s hand-- little playful taps here and there-- which then morph into holding hands when no one’s around to see it. In private, they’re more willing to be physically close (think head in lap while reading), and Kirumi’s brushed his hair on more than one occasion. It should be noted that one of the most intimate moments the two have had was holding hands in private without any sort of fabric acting as a barrier.

However, Korekiyo does have a cheekier side that slips out (more slyly playful to incite something interesting/fluster her) and is known to slip an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. If you squint, you might catch a faint flush on the usually unflappable Kirumi. Bonus points if this is during the evening, and a breeze blows by. Bonus bonus if this is in public, during broad daylight.

The ‘class dad’ has to assert his dominance every now and then over the unruly children, no?

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Love comes in a lot of different forms and of course, at each person’s pace. Both of them circle around this topic and have essentially said it nonverbally before, but the first to vocalize it is most likely still Korekiyo. It’s not in Kirumi’s nature to be direct about her emotions (but for duties and professional matters, absolutely), so it’s up to him to say he loves her first.

It’s most likely uttered in private, accompanied with a small kiss, and very quietly-- so quiet you can barely catch it, but that doesn’t matter, because only the one who needs to hear it the most will.

conclusion

Three words best describe this relationship: mature, meaningful, and synchronized.

Both of these individuals are aloof and formal on the surface level, but if one takes the time to truly get to know them, there’s quite the intense fire burning underneath in the form of being utterly devoted to each other every step of the way. Of course, this is all done in a very reserved manner, and if they don’t want you to know about it, you won’t.

Well, if you got here, thank you for reading all of this. I’ve liked this ship for a while, and I remember being nervous to create content-- I’m sure know how volatile fandom life can be, no? Hope you enjoyed my take and spins on their relationship, and I might post more later.

Feel free to request or drop something in the askbox for these two.

61 notes · View notes

wonda-cat · 3 years

Text

Some Thoughts on Tommy’s most recent stream (4/29)

(For the record, this isn’t going to be like my other formal analyses. I’m genuinely just ranting here, possibly unedited too. I’m only referring to the characters, unless stated otherwise.

Also obvious warning, this will be fairly negative/critical of the DSMP’s writing, so scroll past if that might bother you. I tend to criticize the media I love, so this is just par for the course in my case.)

Let’s start off with—

The Things I Liked

All of the comedy at the beginning of the stream was wonderful. Ghostbur was incredibly endearing and entertaining as usual, as well as the moments between bench trio. Tommy’s change of plans made sense and the entire journey through the prison was tense and fun to watch. As well as the moment Tommy got caught (it was inevitable.)

It goes without stating, but cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy’s acting was wonderful—they knocked it out of the park. I liked the little moments of Tommy calming Ghostbur down as Sam screamed at him. I also loved Wilbur's speech about his time in the afterlife when bench trio found him.

As well as the moment with Wilbur admiring the sky and calling it ‘his sunrise.’ I’m also glad that the afterlife was explained to be caused by the Revival Book’s existence and not some general eternal torture every character will be sentenced to regardless of anything they did in life.

But, sadly, that’s about where I stop and have to go into what I didn’t like as much, which is—

Everything Else

I’ll be talking about my major gripes with this particular stream in later bullet points down the line, but for now I’ll bring up the little things that annoyed me. This is all basically nit-picking and isn’t as awful or badly written as some of the others I’ll be discussing later.

First off, Why is Ranboo There? In the stream before this one, Tommy had Tubbo promise to not tell anyone else about their plan. Did he just decide to tell Ranboo anyway? Why? What was the point of asking him to keep it secret if it didn’t matter?

Adding to this, Tubbo and Ranboo were rather unnecessary for any of the other scenes that took place. They didn’t have any meaningful conversations with Tommy besides Ranboo asking why he was dreading Wilbur’s revival so much, as well as Wilbur’s comments to Tubbo about him being president. But other than that they have little to no notable speaking lines.

They don’t Do Anything? Sure, they’re nice to have present so Tommy can vent to someone else and find comfort but, in the end, Ranboo was oddly angry and accusatory with Tommy and Tubbo was practically absent from the scene. The impression I got from Tommy and Tubbo’s conversation in the previous stream implied that Tubbo would be serving a larger role as a distraction, but I guess they changed gears or something?

Then we have Ghostbur’s involvement, which, yeah, makes sense. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are not allowed inside the prison, so it’s best to find someone else who can get in without suspicion. But my first assumption, upon seeing Ghostbur with the group was, “Oh, he’s gonna go in there and Dream’s gonna use him to revive Wilbur. That’s the only reason why Ghostbur is here and not anyone else, who would also be willing to kill Dream. It’s not like they’re in short supply right now.”

And I ended up being right, which only frustrated me more. I wanted something unexpected. Something new. Something interesting. Yet, I got the most predictable outcome instead—Tommy fails, Wilbur is revived.

Next, we have another big serving of ‘Tommy gets blamed for things he has no control over’ part 241. I am so, so sick of characters getting unreasonably mad at and blaming Tommy for anything and everything. It’s not new, it’s not interesting, it’s not fun. It’s just miserable.

It is,, awful. And it’s highkey frustrating. I refuse to sit through another arc of Tommy being endlessly hurt and blamed for stuff he didn’t do or cannot control. Pick a new event in the plot.

Try something out of left field. Do something, anything different to this. I’m begging you.

Now, we get into the major writing pitfalls and shortcomings. Starting with—

We Need to Talk About Sam

I have no idea what is going on with Sam’s character right now. It is so genuinely confusing. I have no clue why Sam reacted the way he did to Tommy because it just doesn’t make any sense. Sam’s entire inner conflict is about him trying to cultivate and protect his humanity and morality while upkeeping a strict, closed-off demeanor.

He follows the rules, even if it hurts the people he loves. Even if these codes force him into a position to be unethical. He feels it is his responsibility should anything go wrong or if Dream escapes, because it puts others in danger.

His strict approach got Tommy killed, and it also took a life and an arm from Ponk. Both of these people are precious to him. So why on earth would he threaten to kill Tommy when, in their last interaction, he was glad he was alive—after he promised to never let something like that happen again?

He respected Tommy’s wishes to stay away from him, and rather politely too. Why would he then threaten to kill him just after weeks of saying Tommy’s death was his biggest regret? That’s not even touching on Sam saying, “This is why I let you die,” as well as blaming Tommy for something that was directly a result of his own refusal to act.

Why didn’t he have Ghostbur also hitch a ride on the same platform with Tommy? Why did he even let Ghostbur into the prison in the first place if he:

A.) Told Ranboo he wasn’t going to let anyone in there after what happened to Tommy.

B.) Also wouldn’t let people in lest they find out about Quackity’s plan.

C.) Couldn’t even kill Ghostbur because he’s incorporeal and thus cannot fully upkeep the contracts he is signing.

There’s also the issue of Sam breaking the rules he abides by when he decided to not kill Tommy after he snuck into the prison, despite it being in the contract. Why is it different now? He went against his own protocol but was also following it by refusing to let Ghostbur come back to the other platform?

Why does Sam refuse to listen to Tommy? Their argument is mind-numbingly ridiculous. Sam refuses to hurt Dream, despite him only being alive because Sam claimed Tommy wanted him alive.

But now Tommy is there, begging Sam to let him kill Dream, and Sam just goes, “No. We’re not killing Dream.” Fucking why??? Sam! You said you wanted to kill Dream at least four times by now! Maybe more!

You were on your way to do it with Quackity and the only thing that stopped you was your promise to Tommy. But now Tommy’s here, telling you to kill Dream and you fucking won’t???? I am absolutely baffled.

No matter how you spin it, it makes no fucking sense. However, if I tried,,, I could possibly come up with a reason or two. Maybe Dream is blackmailing him. Maybe Quackity is forcing him to keep Dream alive until he can get the info he needs (even though,,, why would he trust Quackity over Tommy, who he’s outwardly stated he trusts just as much, if not more?)

It feels like these plots are dancing around each other, trying to keep up this faux sense of conflict that doesn’t exist. But, here’s the thing, contrived conflict is never compelling. I can’t overstate it enough.

Dream’s Plan is Complete Nonsense

The method to revive Wilbur makes Dream seem even more short-sighted than I remember commenting on, during the stream where Tommy was brought back to life. He told Tommy that his plan was to test the book to see if it worked (which, okay fine, I can buy this.) But then he says all along he was planning to revive Wilbur in order to break out of prison, which is ???? This is baffling if he needed Ghostbur in order to pull this off.

Which,,, I can’t even begin to explain how ridiculous it is that Dream’s entire plan hitched on not only the book working on people to begin with (which he tested on Tommy,,, for some reason, even though he would’ve lost his ‘favorite toy’ if he fucked it up. Which,, why even take that chance in the first place? there are other visitors he could’ve tried this with, surely. Like Sapnap and Bad,,) and it also relied on Ghostbur voluntarily going into the prison just to visit Dream?? And if he didn’t need Ghostbur after all, then why didn’t he bring Wilbur back weeks ago?

That’s not even getting into the issue of Dream assuming that Wilbur, once brought back, would:

A.) Want to be alive in the first place.

B.) Actually be willing to help Dream, instead of telling him to fuck off.

C.) Be even slightly capable of helping him at all when he has no allies, no PVP skill, no weapons, no armor, and no knowledge of the prison or its innerworkings.

Why are the current DSMP writers so committed to making me think Dream is a fucking idiot? I don’t enjoy this. I used to like his character and think he was smart. Stop.

ALSO, why did Tommy or Tubbo or Ranboo not think of the possibility that Ghostbur could very well be necessary to revive Wilbur? Why did that not cross any of their minds? It was the first thing I thought of when I saw him.

Another big thing that irks me is Tommy and Sam saying they saw Dream physically holding the Revival Book, which,,, how? Why? Dream said in previous streams that he burned the book and that was entirely the thing that kept him from being killed outright. If there was a book still in existence, did he hide it somehow?

How did Quackity not find it? Why did Sam not take it from him when he was first arrested?? What?

Also how the fuck did Dream kill a ghost?? They’re incorporeal? How does he not need the body to perform necromancy? That seems almost redundant.

Also it took a matter of seconds to perform? It took,,, ?? nothing but words and sheer willpower to bring someone back to life? Why does it seem so easy? My mans just,, uses his vibes to bring people back from the dead???

Unless the book has instructions regarding that or has a proportional price in order to use, then I’d be more forgiving. But I’m guessing it doesn’t have too steep a cost if Dream could offer Tommy immortality despite that. But I’m sure we’ll get more information on this once Quackity (inevitably) gets his hands on the book. Hopefully…

Which brings me to my last point—

Wilbur’s Revival (Derogatory)

Since the Revival Book was introduced, I have been actively dreading Wilbur being revived. It is the most predictable, low-hanging fruit of a plotline I could possibly conceive of. I understand that he’s a fan-favorite with a large audience (I love Wilbur more than you’d expect. cc!Wilbur is actually the reason I got into the DSMP in the first place), but there are other characters who could be developed more—utilized more.

Unpopular opinion, I know, but I am just so incredibly unenthused about this plot development. In fact, I’d almost go so far as to say hate it.

The Revival Book in and of itself is my least favorite thing the DSMP has ever introduced. It is a lack of consequences simplified. It’s also a lack of commitment to those mortal consequences.

It is a ‘get out of jail free’ card for when they kill off a character and don’t want to deal with the hole that character will leave behind. Or a way to work around the reason they shouldn’t kill Dream on the spot.

With Wilbur back again, I no longer feel compelled by his arc the way I used to. There is nothing to really leave a lasting impact anymore. Of course, there was a cater where L’Manburg once stood, but that was dug even deeper later on. You can’t make the death of a friend, of a loved one, worse than it is. It is death.

The thing I found extremely interesting about Wilbur’s death is the way the other characters portrayed loss. It has consistently been the thing that was most comforting to me, oddly enough. When people die, there will always be loose ends.

There will be holes left behind and things left unsaid. An unfulfilled promise. A forgotten relationship. A hollow memory.

What I always found compelling was the way Tommy and Fundy and Niki took this mutual loss and had to live with it. How they had to come to terms with the fact that Wilbur was gone and he wasn’t coming back. That they had to make peace with his memory, his legacy, and their connection to him.

That they’d miss him and love him or hate him and try to forget him. It is a tragedy that someone like Wilbur wanted to die for so long, and in the end, he did. Because in reality, the people you love will die.

There may be someone in your life that leaves you behind and all you’re left with is the broken pieces. And it is how these characters move on that brings me bittersweet company as someone who’s lost a lot of people. There is nothing more irritating than a story going back on its establishments—to have their cake and eat it too.

All I want is the bare minimum—a story with narrative stakes and consequences.

The only way I could ever see myself enjoying this plot development is if Wilbur has a redemption arc and attempts to make amends with Tommy, Fundy, Niki, and Eret. OR if he aids in Dream’s downfall in some way and enjoys the simple realities of life and wants to live for the sake of living. I’d find that at least new and somewhat interesting.

But if he’s just here to be a moustache toiling villain (or somehow worse than after his previous downward spiral), when the market is already so deeply oversaturated with antagonists, then I will probably drop the series altogether.

Hopefully it doesn’t come to that because I love the Dream SMP and I want to keep loving it for as long as I can.

I will hold onto more reasons to stay, so long as they keep giving them to me.

55 notes · View notes

theclassycandy · 3 years

Text

Drunk Nights - The Elementalists

Summary: Anna is with the Harrington fam for a sleepover and when the alcohol comes out, she gets excited. Beckett is really a sloppy/cutesy drunk and she can’t wait for that version of Beckett to come out! But when a sudden change of attitude occurs in Beckett, Anna and Katrina gets especially worried. Katrina realizes what Beckett thinks of her and how much Anna truly means to her brother.

Ships: Beckett x Anna

Rating: R

Word Count: 2825

A/N: Alright, so this fic takes place about a few months after Beckett, Anna and the rest of the Pend Pals graduate! Beckett and Anna have moved in together during this fic, but at the Harrington’s manor for this fic. They’re still boyfriend and girlfriend during this time. I truly hope you enjoyed this fic! Please like, reblog or throw me a follow if you can!

Tags: @miss-smrxtiee , @holystxne , @adam-dumortains , @herarmoredheart , @ilikeyellingatmyscreen

“Anna! My dear! So lovely you could grace us with your presence! How was the drive here? Traffic not too dreadful huh?” welcomed Mrs. Harrington, kissing Anna on both cheeks.

“It actually wasn’t that bad! Wonderful gardens you have out there don’t you? Did you get it redone recently?” asked Anna, pleased with Mrs. Harrington’s friendly question.

“Oh yes, we had it done a few days after your graduation night! So wonderful of you to have noticed!”

Contrast to Mrs. Harrington’s positive demeanor, Mr. Harrington was a lot more reserved. Anna knew that she has his respect and satisfaction from her reputation and prestige in the tech industry and that it is very apparent that she makes his son very happy. He had never seen Beckett so happy, even just when her name was brought up at family events.

“Anna, lovely to see you, as usual.” said Mr. Harrington giving Anna a strong handshake.

Anna returns the handshake, putting on a bright smile and nodding respectfully. She then turns to head to Beckett, where he’s being bulldozed by his sister.

“I missed you guys so much! It’s hard for me to think that my baby brother is living on his own with his wif- I mean, girlfriend!” expressed Katrina, pulling Beckett in a hug leaving him spluttering. Katrina then lets go and turns around to Anna, arms open.

“My awesome, beautiful, future sister-in-law! I’ve missed you so much too!” exclaimed Katrina giving Anna a hug, at the same fervor that she did for Beckett.

Over Katrina’s shoulder, Anna could see the blush form across Beckett’s cheeks at the implication of Katrina wanting to see them getting married.

The 5 of them walked over to the Harrington’s dinning table, their personal chef giving them some rare kind of magickal lobster and placing a wine in the middle of the table called Krug Clos d'Ambonnay Blanc de Noirs. Mrs. Harrington poured some wine in her glass, swirling it right underneath her nose. Mr. Harrington takes the bottle, doing that same thing. He stretches his arm, bottle towards Anna.

“Would you like some Anna? It’s a new bottle, it would be great for you to expand you alcohol palette.” said Mr. Harrington. It’s not like Anna doesn’t like alcohol or against drinking/getting drunk in public but she knows this wine. And it’s rare. She’s still getting used to being able to experience such luxuries. She’s only ever had soju. She gives him a polite smile but gulps. But then she turns her head to Beckett.

“What do you say? Will we see drunk Beckett tonight?” she says with a cheeky grin and teasing tone. When Beckett had gotten drunk with her and the rest of the Pend Pals... let’s just say that he can’t handle more than 2 drinks without being a sloppy drunk.

“I- I- suppose that I’m not opposed to drinking with the people here. Uhh, sure” he says, blushing taking the bottle from his father, pouring some into his crystal wine glass. Anna then smirks and pours some into hers too. Copying Mrs. Harrington; swirling the wine right beneath her nose. Anna keeps her eye on Beckett, after his first glass he stares at her with a light in his eyes and a pink tint on his cheeks. But after his second drink, he’s right in her face and smirking at her. His chin is propped up on his fist and elbow on the table.

“So Anna,” Beckett places his hand flirtatiously on her arm while he lightly whispers to her, “what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” For a spilt second, Anna’s jaw drops, shocked that Beckett would speak like that to her in front of other people, let alone in front of his own parents. She quickly gathers her composure, leaning in and whispering in his ear in the sexiest tone that she can muster.

“Not much, just thinking of my incredibly intelligent, handsome and sexy boyfriend. And how much I love him.” she whispers back. She expected him to smirk, or smile bashfully, or at least blush, but the way he did react was took her off guard. His expression changed from sheer confidence to the face of misery in a split second. His eyebrow furrowed, his smirk dropped into a frown and his eyes became lost it’s glimmer. Confused, Anna was about to ask what she did wrong when Mr. Harington asks her something.

“Anna, how’s the company doing? Living up to your title of most promising up-and-coming company in the last decade, I hope?” questions Mr. Harrington, exceptionally impress with her.

“Yes, sales in the last quarter are at an all time high!” expressed Anna excitedly. She absolutely loves her job and that it’s impressing everyone especially Beckett’s parents. She knew that they would be okay with her being in a relationship with Beckett but in order to truly earn their respect, she would need to prove her worth. “Live up to the Harrington name” as Beckett would put it. If she even wants a chance to one day be a part of his family, she’s gotta prove that she can bring some sort of prestige in the family.

A few minutes go by and Anna is talking with Katrina about her plans for the company. And Mrs. Harrington calls out Beckett.

“Beckett? Sweetheart are you okay? You’re so quiet and looking so sad. Is something the matter?” asks Mrs. Harrington asks Beckett and everyone turns to Beckett in concern, stopping their conversation. Anna reaches out and places her hand on Beckett’s shoulder in concern. Beckett looks Anna in the eye for a second... and then forcefully tears off her hand and runs off upstairs!

Anna and the other Harringtons all stare after him in shock and concern. Anna rubs her hand that was on his shoulder. Beckett looked so sad but even when he forcefully took off her hand, the touch itself was gentle; almost weak, as if in defeat. Katrina is the first one to go after him, with Anna in tow. The parents look at each other worriedly but decides that they’ll come up if one of them asks them to.

When the 2 girls, Anna and Katrina hear Beckett getting in his room and shuts the door behind him. They pause in front of the door and Katrina turns to Anna.

“Before you ask, I genuinely don’t know what I said that made him this upset.” explained Anna.

“And I one-thousand percent believe you, but something did make him upset so I think it’s best if you wait out here, I’ll tell you when you can come in.” before Anna could form a counter-argument, Katrina opens the door and slowly walks in Beckett’s room.

Beckett’s sitting in the farthest corner of his bedroom floor. Katrina takes in his appearance, he looks defeated, disheveled and dejected. His face is paler than usual except with the noticeable redness around his eyes as if he’s about to cry. Katrina, tiptoes to Beckett and sits right beside him shoulder-to-shoulder. They sit in silence for a minute.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” cautiously asks Katrina, looking at her brother.

“It’s Anna. Wait no- I mean-” he starts “It’s me. I was too late, I did this to myself and now she’s happy all on her own without me.” Beckett’s voice gets even more shakier as he goes on.

“Wait wha- why- what makes you say that? What do you mean ‘I was too late’?” asked Katrina, very much confused.

“I tried flirting with her by asking what was on her mind and she said her boyfriend that she’s in love with. Oh god, I’m not surprised though; it’s impossible to not fall for her.” Beckett said miserably.

If Karina wasn’t confused before, she sure is now. Anna’s clearly in love with Beckett and he reciprocates her feeling. Why is he upset with that?

Beckett continues. “She’s my best friend and I’ve fell in love with her but now she’s dating already and I feel... so- heartbroken.”

Katrina’s confusion is now very visible with her nose and eyebrows scrunched together. “Beckett, what do you mean? Do you think she’s cheating on you or something? Anna doesn’t seem like the type to do that.”

This time it’s Beckett’s turn to be confused, expression mirroring Katrina’s.

“What? She’s dating someone! She described him as ‘ incredibly intelligent, handsome and sexy’ who the fuck matches that description?” says Beckett. Katrina can see his discomfort when he says the description.

“Wait... Beckett, who exactly do you think she’s dating?” asked Katrina, think she knows where this is going.

“I don’t even know! And quite frankly I don’t want to know. Her being happy with someone else will just remind me of everything I don’t have.” exasperated, a few tears start to flow down his face but he wipes it off quickly.

Katrina stares at him in shock, finally seeing what happened. “Ohhh... so he asked Anna about what was on her mind, she said ‘her boyfriend’ so she was obviously referring to him. But since he’s drunk he forgot... that they were dating in the first place...? And now he’s crying because he thinks that Anna is in love with someone and now he’s miserable, thinking that he’s not the one dating Anna. Awwwww that’s the cutest! He truly loves her so much.” thinks Katrina, putting the pieces together. She wants to tell him that Anna was talking about him but she decides against it wanting to see how he talks about Anna.

“Well I see, what made you fall in love with her in the first place?” asked Katrina.

“Oh where to begin? She’s the smartest person I’ve ever known. You know she runs an extremely successful company that she built from the ground up?” Beckett asks. Katrina smiles and nods at him to continue. “And when I say smart I don’t just mean logical smart I mean socially and emotionally smart too! During our sophomore year, she was able to sweet talk investors for Shreya for her business! She’s beautiful too! You saw her on the cover on that magazine right? She’s done so much and most off all, she- she-...” Beckett trails off.

“She...?” Katrina goes one, clueing him to continue.

“She just makes me really, really happy. Happiness that- that I didn’t even know that’s possible! Even when she’s just beside me I can feel just so calm and.. loved.”

“Oh okay so...” Katrina started but then Beckett cuts her off.

“And her smile and her laugh! Oh my god, her smile. It’s just make so feel so good inside like, I finally know why I’m here. She’s helped me with so much stuff when it comes to my studies, my parents, you...”

At the mention of ‘you’ she turns her head to face him. Curious what he has to say about her.

“I mean no offence Katrina but-” he cuts himself off for a second then resumes talking. “but almost everything about our family stresses me out. I love you but being constantly compared to my own sister all the time, whose 10 years older than me is so... so tiring and embarrassing. That’s not your fault at but it’s why I hate it when you’re overbearing. Because not only does it feel like you babying me but also it feels like the only reason why I’ll ever be successful is because of my family and not my own skills.

Katrina stares off, taking in how Beckett truly feels around her. She couldn’t imagine being compared to someone 10 years older than her during her entire childhood and then thinking that her own family wouldn’t love her unless she could live up to their expectations.

“Did you know that in high school there would be times that I wouldn’t eat or sleep because I was so stressed out? I didn’t tell you guys because I just couldn’t. I managed to fool myself it was because I didn’t want you guys to worry but looking back? It was because I didn’t actually know if I would be helped or if mom and dad would just pressure me even more, saying ‘your sister didn’t have this much trouble.’ But with Anna it’s different she still encourages me to not just be smarter in terms of school and my career but to be a better man overall. It’s not her herself telling me this, but I just want to make her happy as she makes me.”

He leans his head back, letting the tears flowing freely at his words.

“But now she’s with somebody else. I just hope the person she’s with makes her unbelievably happy and they know how lucky they are to be dating her.” Beckett says sorrowfully. Katrina turns her head to him.

“Maybe you can tell her how you feel. I’m sure she’d love to know.”

“WHAT? But I can’! I-” he starts and Katrina internally laughs that Beckett still doesn’t know that Anna was referring to him.

She stands up; “I’ll go get her. You just stay there.” Katrina walks to the door, excited to see how Anna will react. She sees Anna pacing in the hallway, the worry obvious on her face and her face lights up when she sees Katrina coming out.

“Is Beckett okay? It is sick? Did I really say something wrong at the dinner?” asked Anna, frantic.

Katrina just smiles at her.

“What? Katrina, what’s so funny?” asked Anna taken aback by Katrina’s lack of seriousness.

“Beckett is upset because you said that you’re in love with your boyfriend,” Anna makes a face and Katrina continues on. “However since Beckett is drunk he somehow forgot that he’s your boyfriend, and that you’re in love and dating somebody else so now he’s kind of crying that he thinks that you’re not his.”

Anna’s jaw drops, her hand coming to her mouth but Katrina can tell that she’s smiling.

“Awwwwww! But he’s taking it okay right? No throwing up from the alcohol?” she asked.

“He didn’t. But it looks like he may throw up. Not because of the alcohol but because he thinks you’re in love with someone else.”

Anna mouth breaks out into a huge, loving smile and walks through the door to see Beckett sitting down on the ground with his wrinkled clothes and tear-stained face.

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” Anna coos as she walks over, sits next to him and cups his face with her hands.

“Look Anna, you don’t need to spare my feelings. I know you’re dating someone.” Beckett says dejectedly, not meeting her eyes. Anna sees how truly sad he is that he thinks she’s in love with someone else so she goes along with it for a little while.

“I know but I want to know how you feel about me regardless.” Anna says tilting her head so that he has to look her in the eye.

He just stares into her eyes and Anna can tell that Beckett is being 100% serious.

“Anna, I- I-... I’ve fallen in love with you. I’ve fallen and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. You make me feel loved and cared for and you’re just.. amazing. I know you end up going back to your boyfriend but I desperately wanted to let you know how I feel.” Beckett blurts out, pouring his heart out for her.

“Beckett... I already know! And I feel the exact same way!” exclaimed Anna, feeling like she’s in heaven.

“Wait really? What about your boyfriend?” asked Beckett amazed.

“Beckett, who do you think I was referring to when you asked me the question about who’s my boyfriend?” asks Anna.

“Who?” asks Beckett bewildered.

“You, Beckett! Did you forget we were dating? That we literally live together?” says Anna, watching in amusement as Beckett face turns form sentimental to shock and realization.

“Ohhhhhh yeah!!” Anna bursts into laugher that was so hard that she couldn’t breathe. Beckett’s jaw popped open as he laughed with her, remembering everything and he he went wrong.

“So we really are together now huh?” asked Beckett happiness flooding him.

Anna nods enthusiastically. “Yep! We have need for 2 years, Beckett!” As she laughs even harder, Beckett crashes his mouth to hers. So forcefully that Anna is taken off guard. Beckett lifts her off the ground with their mouths still connected. He then steps over and places her on the bed, his hands exploring her body. Chills that Beckett is giving her are addicting but Anna knows she needs to pull away.

“Don’t get me wrong; I’d love you to rearrange my guts in your bed but Katrina is right outside your door and your parents are worried about you still.” Tells Anna and Beckett and her get off the bed fixing the wrinkles on their clothes. They make out once more. They then walk downstairs, memories intact.

#the elementalists #Beckett x Mc #the elementalists beckett #te mc #the elementalists mc #te fanfic #te fanfiction #the elementalists fanfic #katrina harrington #aster d'yew #atlas ernhardt #griffin langley #zephyr hernandez #shreya mistry #beckett harrington

44 notes · View notes

acid-hydrangea · 3 years

Text

Three Years in Heaven

A few small glimpses at the winding, unending days of a certain boy.

(Includes post-story spoilers for both TWEWY games in their entireties, as this takes place between both periods.)

(AO3 Crosspost)

Night 1

It's dark.

So dark, he can hardly see his own hand in front of him.

He feels something.

Not by touch, no.

Someone silent

Yet that presence, their aura

It's so familiar,

It speaks one thousand words,

Nondescript, vague and cluttered,

Looping, repeating, silently, yet loudly,

Except for a few that ring out,

"How was your first Day back in the Underground, Neku?"

"... Josh?!"

Neku’s first cry, it's full of relief, shock, words caught in his throat finally let out of the cage in his throat,

"Josh... You..."

His voice rises, he clenches his fist, he's finally back on his two feet,

"Where the hell am I?! Why am I back in the UG again?! Did you..."

Neku crumbles, just a bit, hand over his chest, where his non-beating heart is,

"For the third time..."

"Did I kill you? Well, isn't that the question of the decade."

Neku yells once more, wishing for nothing more than to be heard, and for once, to have his questions answered,

"Don't fucking screw with me! Just give me an answer...!"

He seriously feels like he's at his last straw. Joshua's unconcerned nonchalance was going to be the death of him.

"... What a way to thank your savior." Joshua pouts. "That twisted Reaper had excruciating plans for you, you know."

"... Huh? That Reaper... Coco? What about her?"

"She killed you, sought to drag you to the Underground once more, to..."

Joshua held his arms out, gesturing to the absolute nothingness that surrounded them,

"Save the lost city of Shinjuku."

Neku doesn't even have time to process the fact that Coco killed him. It's not information he wanted to digest, right now.

"This is... Shinjuku? What the hell happened??"

"An Inversion." Joshua states, rather matter-of-factly.

Neku stutters, thoroughly confused. "A what, now...?"

"It's when the RG and UG collapse into each other, and cease to function entirely." Joshua sighs, twirling his hair curl between his fingers. "Much like if you were being choked. Your throat closes up, and you'd stop breathing. If prolonged, you could pass out, or die. It's like that, Neku."

Neku instinctively backed away, holding his hands over his neck, as if fearing Joshua would try to demonstrate.

It didn't help that Joshua was wearing the smallest of twisted smirks during the latter half of his explanation.

Perhaps Joshua just enjoys morbid discussions. That's none of Neku's business.

Joshua rolls his eyes, as if put off by how scared Neku is.

"... You should feel grateful I saved you, for the record. The job I have in store for you is a lot less painful."

Neku was still on the defensive. "...Oh, yeah? And what would that be?"

"To discover the very reason why an Inversion took place here."

"...You wanna tell me more, Private Dick Extraordinaire?"

"If I had more to say, I would have told you."

"I don't buy it."

"Well, isn't that a shame... Because you can't leave until you've figured it out."

If Neku addresses that, he knows he won't get meaningful answers. He doesn't even know if Joshua will stick around for long. He chooses his words carefully...

"I've seen what's left of Shinjuku. There's nothing here. How do you expect me to find any--"

"Make it work, Neku. We haven't got all day. How about you try to listen more closely?"

And just like that, the second Day begins.

Neku decides it's another day of endless wandering, once more, trying to listen to the absolute silence that he now knows is Shinjuku, Post-Inversion.

Night 7

It's been a whole week. 7 Days.

Joshua has yet to make another appearance, ever since that first Night.

Very little has changed, but Neku's grown a bit smarter. Learned a little more. Opening his mind to Shinjuku, bit by bit.

As his eyes close and the current Day ends, he has a familiar feeling he knows who to expect.

Joshua slowly claps, "I must say, you've really outdone yourself, Neku."

"Put a sock in it..." Neku crosses his arms. "I've barely picked up on anything."

"Care to share your discoveries with your beloved Partner?"

"What, you can't look around yourself?"

"I cannot so freely come and go from Shibuya like you, Neku." The look in Joshua's eyes turns a bit serious. "Even I have my harrowing responsibilities."

"... Is something happening in Shibuya?"

"Nothing for you to worry yourself over."

"Is something happening in Shibuya, or not?!" Neku steps towards him, three seconds away from grabbing the collar of his shirt, "Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I can't worry." There's a mix of anger and concern in Neku's tired eyes.

"How about an exchange of information, then?" Joshua twirls his pointed finger at Neku, pushing him out of his personal bubble. "Starting with that briefing you keep putting off."

"... Fine." Neku rubs the back of his head. "Like I said, it's barely anything... But I don't think the people of Shinjuku knew it was coming. It was like it surprised them all at once."

Joshua tilts his head. "... And?"

"That's it. I told you it wasn't much..." Neku reiterates, sincerely hoping Joshua doesn’t ask him for something he doesn’t have.

"No, I think..." Joshua rubs his chin, pondering. "That's enough, for now."

"Tell me about Shibuya, then. What's happening?"

"A handful of Shinjuku Reapers are taking refuge there. Our current Game Master has decided to allow them that mercy."

"... You seem bothered by the fact."

"My, my, you're getting much better at reading people, too." Joshua shoots him his trademark grin. "I have my suspicions that they partook in enacting their own city's downfall."

"Huh...?" Neku's bewilderment was apparent on his face. "Why would they want to tear down their own city?"

"Like I said, it's just a thought. How could it be that they are the only survivors, after all?"

Neku, too, began pondering this... Not that he really knew, though. This is Joshua he's talking to. Those Shinjuku Reapers could be totally innocent, and Neku wouldn't know,

“You’re the Composer, aren’t you? Why not kick them out if they pose a threat?” Despite his own thoughts, Neku figured Joshua would’ve taken more precaution--

“It’d be dangerous to let them out of my sight if they are responsible.”

Frankly, Neku had no argument against that. Joshua was right. Even so...

Neku's voice goes a bit quiet. "... Maybe something else caused the Inversion, though..."

"Hm, you think so?" Joshua snaps his fingers. "Go on, uncover more proof to back that theory up, then."

Neku's eyes shot open to the same, dreary sights as always.

It's sudden, but the eighth Day has begun.

Night 8

Neku had a very rare, very special, very horrific encounter against Noise.

He wasn't exactly prepared for a fight, but...

He had a few Pins on hand, luckily, it was enough to take it out.

He was surprised his psyches work as well as they do, given he's on his own. That's the least of his concerns right now, though.

Larger than most, it took all the longer to take down. Its attacks were also far more brutal, leaving every cut burning. After the Noise was felled, Neku felt revitalized,

but no, none of those were the concerning parts to be dealt with.

It almost felt like it was an amalgamation of human Soul and Noise matter that he was fighting.

Their thoughts were loud, so, so loud, forming words, sentences, phrases.

The cries, shouts, and whimpers it exuded all sounded incredibly human.

"No, don't hurt me! I mean no harm!"

"Go away! Get away from me!"

"What did I ever do to you...?"

"What... Where am I... What's happening?!"

"It hurts, it hurts!! Mama!!!"

"What are you doing to him?!"

Yet, they wouldn't stop.

They kept trying to hurt him.

Neku wasn't about to lay his life down, but...

He felt damn close to it.

The revitalizing energy that enveloped him after their defeat, it felt bittersweet.

He falls to his knees, collapsed, exhausted.

There are thoughts lingering, from all that it used to be. They sit there, as if waiting,

But Neku can't muster the will to do anything, right now.

His eyes shut on their own, refusing to perceive himself, or anything around him.

Neku wanted nothing more than to disappear, just like them.

The eighth Day is over.

Joshua looks forward, at the wisps of what once was a catastrophic bundle of Noise,

"Quite the curious entity that was, mm?"

Neku has no words. Nothing to say, to think, to... be.

The vacant, scared expression on his face... Joshua found it interesting, to say the least.

"...You okay, Neku?" Joshua tilts his head, as a few sparks of concern come through his usually sardonic demeanor.

Neku can barely get the words out, but he tries, "No... I'm not, actually." He's on the cusp of tears.

His voice could barely be heard by normal ears, but it's fine, because Joshua can hear him.

He always can.

"... Those thoughts aren't going anywhere," Joshua's tone has turned considerably sympathetic, far more gentle, possibly even genuine, "Let's just wait for a bit."

Joshua sits beside him, now.

Gently placing his hand on Neku's, he can feel it shaking, as it's clenched tight.

Neku feels the strange silence is comforting, simply because Joshua is here.

Neku, deep down, wanted nothing more than the company of someone else.

Especially right now.

Even if it was Joshua’s...

No, not ‘even’... He found comfort in Joshua’s knowing tone, and even in his kind gestures...

No matter how foreign it all was to Neku.

He didn’t feel like questioning it, right now. Joshua was the only other person here, the only one he could talk to.

Neku doesn’t want to take that for granted.

Neku tries to speak, once more, as tears blur his eyes, which he dared to open once more, too weak to look ahead, he stares at the ground below him,

at Joshua's hand, still tenderly holding his own.

"...Josh... Did I...", Neku gulps, trying to release the words tangled in his throat, "Kill those people...?"

"No, you didn't. They were already gone. You gave them mercy, if anything," Joshua brushes his thumb over Neku's hand, speaking calmly. "They can pass on peacefully, now."

"... You mean it...?"

"I do. They even left us their thoughts, it's something that can help us."

"... It can help us...?"

"Of course, Neku," Joshua gently brushes his shoulder against his, "Try to look forward, try to look at them."

As hesitant as he is, he trusts Joshua.

Joshua would take a chance like this to screw with him,

but he figured Joshua still has things for him to do.

And Neku knows he himself can't leave until he's done what he has to.

Whatever ulterior purpose Joshua has, refusing to listen to him would make things drag on.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with Joshua's ire.

... And who knows? Maybe Joshua actually was concerned.

Only if because Joshua wasn't his assailant, this time.

Neku looks forward.

There's naught but glowing wisps, a condensation of people's thoughts lingering in the air.

It almost seemed as though they were waiting.

"Try to read them, Neku." Joshua prompts him. "Read their thoughts, just like you've done before."

Joshua gently lifts his hand from Neku's, from which Neku tries to muster the energy to lift his arm... To try to understand the words waiting for him.

Neku feels weak, he hisses silently from a cut on his arm. It wasn't only because of the battle, no, but he hadn't noticed how tired he'd grown over the past week.

It's not like he was loitering around. He was trying his damndest to figure more information out, and find a way out of Shinjuku.

That last battle really cemented his exhaustion in--

Taking notice, Joshua helps, gently lifting Neku's arm up properly. He takes care to not worsen his injuries,

"There, just like that. Go on, Neku."

And so, Neku does.

Realigning himself with the thoughts before him...

He focuses...

He hears them.

"The pain, it's... Gone..."

"... It's okay now, right?"

"What was I doing before this...? Hmm..."

"That man, wearing a butterfly..."

"He looked vengeful, didn't he?"

"Mama, was there something wrong with him?"

Some of them pay Neku no head, some soon extend a silent thanks his way.

They don't speak to him, but he feels it, just before they all fade away.

A vague sense of gratitude.

Joshua lets go of Neku's arm, and Neku stands back on his own two feet, as does Joshua.

"I'd say that was worth it, no?" Joshua's snide tone returns.

Neku kicks at the ground, "... That battle sucked ass."

"You won though, didn't you?" Joshua winks.

Neku crosses his arms, "So what if I did..." Suddenly, Neku wonders, and his wounded arm falls to his side, being clutched by the other.

That battle... Still did a number on him, physically. It was difficult on all ends.

A concerned expression forms on Neku's face, "...Hey, I won't have to do that again, will I?"

"I can't say. You should prepare yourself for the worst, anyways." There's something different about the way he says that, Neku can't recognize Joshua's tone, but he rolls with it.

Neku is silent, his eyes pointed in Joshua's direction. He has better questions to ask.

"... Why are you here, anyways?"

"Why? Because I'm your Partner, Neku."

"Not what I meant. You're Shibuya's Composer. I didn't think you could do anything outside those boundaries."

Joshua chuckles, hand to hip, "You clearly underestimate my capabilities."

Neku rolls his eyes, "You were the one who said you can't come here yourself. Did you find some loophole?"

Joshua continues, this rare generous mood of his leading him to continue entertaining Neku with answers. "Oh, Neku... Neku, Neku, Neku... You are my loophole."

Neku realizes just how messed up his role as a messenger has become. He tried not to think about it before, because what could he do about it? Regardless, it still bothers him.

Neku sighs, "... You don't plan on letting me take a break, do you?"

Then, Joshua says something, that frankly, Neku didn't expect at all,

"Not my jurisdiction, that's all on you, Neku."

Neku's head is now fully turned towards Joshua, only to be met with his eyes staring back at him.

Neku tilts his head, curious, yet suspicious, "Is it, now?"

Joshua states, rather matter of factly, "You have a lot to learn before you can further deepen your understanding of what happened here."

Joshua grins with his eyes, yet his mischievous demeanor returns.

"By all means, take your time, Partner."

Neku opens his eyes.

It is now Day 9.

He's decided his fate is indeed in his own hands, and no one else's.

Neku spends the day trying to find peace of mind.

Night 21

“You don’t look too hot, Partner. Miss me that much?” Joshua asks.

Neku is silent, a strained expression on his face, eyes shut tight. Unresponsive.

It was like Neku barely heard him.

Joshua groans, wanting some kind of response from Neku. "If I didn't know better, I'd have assumed you went back on all of your changes, as a person. Are you back to hating everyone, Neku?"

Neither Neku nor Joshua look very well for wear, it’s been about two weeks since they last met. They've both been busy.

Neku’s sitting, hands pressed hard to his headphones, as if trying to listen to them like they’re broken conch shells.

Joshua sighs. “... Did you even realize the Day’s ended, Neku?”

Neku opens one eye, sulks, “I’m... Trying to find something...”, before shutting it, again.

Joshua tilts his head, “Would you mind enlightening me on what that is?”

Neku’s voice is quieter than usual, “... Their thoughts became muffled.” as if not wanting to speak over the City’s whispers.

“Hm... Isn’t that quite the predicament.”

Joshua sits in front of Neku, studying his face.

Looking from multiple angles, he notices Neku’s eyebags, seeing that sleep deprivation has set in, despite the mandated time that Days are supposed to end.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Neku seemed a bit thinner, too. His arms, legs...

He’s definitely run into more Noise battles in the past two weeks, as well. Likely caught off guard for a good handful of them.

Wounds Neku poorly tried to hide and mend were incredibly obvious. A single healing Pin that needs time to reboot can only do so much.

Joshua has a lot on his mind, right now. A lot of priorities.

The Neku before him reminded him strongly of that.

“Maybe I can help. Take your hands off of those precious headphones of yours, Neku.”

Hesitant, yet stuck with no other answers, Neku complies.

“Guess it’s worth a shot, whatever you... Hey, wait--!”

Joshua swiftly robs Neku of his Headphones.

“There. Try it, now.” Joshua grins slightly, patting Neku’s headphones, as if reassuring him of their safety in his hands.

Grumbling, Neku thinks, ‘There’s no way it’s that easy...’

He tries to focus his mind once more, hands hovering over his ears, where his headphones used to be.

... He begins to hear things he once couldn’t.

His strained expression ebbs away slowly.

Joshua looks on, a silent giggle passes his lips.

Watching Neku’s expression relax, as he listens clearly to new thoughts floating in the air...

It made Joshua feel a fleeting sense of happiness, as he too felt rather worn-out.

Lowering his hands, opening his eyes, the exhaustion in his eyes faded out, even if just a little.

Neku whispers, quietly, “... Thanks, Josh.”

“Really, you were helpless without me, Neku...” Joshua jests, yet there's a hint of melancholy to his words, “You’re welcome, though.”

Joshua gives Neku his headphones back, placing them around his neck, then helps him back up on his feet.

“Try using that sixth sense of yours more, Neku.” Joshua's eyes fall to the side, “‘I’ve been quite busy lately.”

“Right... How’s Shibuya been?”, Neku asks... A slew of concerns rise up on his mind’s list of priorities.

Joshua crosses his arms, “Depends. Do you have anything new to report?”

Neku tries to think carefully about how to say this... He sighs, and decides to just be honest.

'... No. Not yet...”

Directing his eyes back to Neku, Joshua gives him a hard stare, for a few moments...

Joshua decides he’s had enough, for now, “... Since you seem to be having a hard time, I’ll forgive you this time, Partner.”

Neku releases a breath he held in anticipation, “Oh, cry me a river, why don’t you...”, He figured Joshua would stop being cooperative eventually, he’s just surprised it hasn’t happened yet.

Twirling his hair curl around his finger, Joshua continues, “In any case, the Shinjuku Reapers have basically taken over Shibuya’s Reaper Games,"Joshua tuts, rubbing the hair between his fingers casually, "The previous Game Master was unable to stop them.”

... Neku tries to not think about how that probably wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t off the previous Conductor.

Well, the Shibuya he knows and so dearly loves would be no more, but still... Part of his mind thinks, ‘at least there would have been one’...

Judging by Joshua mentioning only the Game Master... Did he even hire another Conductor, yet...?

... Neku didn’t feel like risking getting on Joshua’s bad side. Not to the extent that asking would bring about, anyways.

After a long pause, Neku replies. “... You say that like it’s not a huge deal.”

He knows better than to worry himself sick over things he can't control. If Joshua doesn't seem worried, chances are it's fine.

Joshua runs his hand through his hair, other hand in pocket, “Hah. Hard to say, really. If I’m being honest?” There's a slightly vicious look in Joshua’s eyes. “I’m kind of excited to see where they take it.”

... Neku takes it back. He forgot Joshua fakes his emotions for a living.

Neku crosses his arms, “Sounds like you’re lying through your teeth, Josh.”

Joshua realizes that he’s not the best at keeping up his facade when he himself is exhausted.

That, or Neku’s just gotten to know him that well. Joshua's little tics, stims, fidgets...

He kind of hates it, but he also kind of loves it. That wasn’t Neku’s business, though.

Joshua replies, brushing the hair out of his eyes, “It’s fine,” he rolls his eyes. “They’re not doing anything blasphemous, in any case.”

The silence is thoroughly awkward, between the two. It’s a wonder that the next Day hasn’t begun yet.

Joshua is just waiting, while Neku has other things on his mind...

Neku sighs, “... I get that you’re basically a God, and everything, but are you taking care of yourself?”

Joshua gives him an irritated look, “What, worried I can’t handle a bit of pressure from the opposition? You wound me, Neku.”

“Geez, is it wrong to be worried about my Partner?” Neku mumbles, rubbing the back of his head, “You just look... Tired.”

The more he cared, the more Joshua took offense to it, “You’re practically bleeding at every cut. You really have no place to be speaking to me like that.”

“Sorry, I haven’t exactly had time to rest,” Neku scoffs.

“That makes the both of us, then.”

“Guess it does.”

The two stare at each other for some time, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

...

Neku sighs, letting go of the tension in his shoulders,

“Josh, I think we’re both tired as hell of all of this.”

Joshua tilts his head, unconvinced, “Your point being?”

“We need a long-term game plan.”

“You think I don’t have my own?”

“If you do have one, feel free to let me in on it.” Neku stands his ground. ”Just telling me to relay information to you isn’t exactly what I’d call a good plan.”

Day ???

"Well, well, if it isn't my splendiferous wonderful old friend, Nekkykins!"

"Hey, Coco."

Neku was given a brief explanation on what was going to happen, some time ago. He would return to Shibuya with the assistance of the Harrier Reaper Coco Atarashi, which included assisting her with something else, afterwards.

‘... And you’re telling me I have to wait a whole month before she gets here?’

‘That’s the deal, Partner. Don’t worry, it’ll all pay off in the end.... You trust me, don’t you?’

Said assistance would likely lead to more information about the Shinjuku Inversion being uncovered, as she has close ties with someone who was investigating, as well... That person in particular was in need of help.

"Since I’m here to pick you up, we should get going soon! Althooough... I also have something else for you!"

... Neku knew better than to let personal feelings get in the way, at this point, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat bothered... Even so.

It's too much trouble to hold a grudge against someone for taking your life.

Even if it was isolating, horrifying, and downright made him feel like he didn't exist... For three, long, years...

It was fine. It ended up being for the greater good--

Coco cheered, “Here are some fresh new clothes for you!"

Neku’s response was delayed, as he’s deep in thought. "Huh...? Thanks, I guess."

"C'mon, c'mon, try it on, at least!" Coco prompts him, putting them in his hands. "Those old clothes must be so dingy and tight, by now!!"

"Alright, I get it... Give me a second."

It doesn't take too long for Neku to change, once he's found a place to do so.

Somehow, his old clothes never did shrink, if any part of his wardrobe did stay the same size through the years, it would probably be his old headphones and music player.

He was no longer in possession of either, though.

... The new clothes were pretty comfortable. Fits his style, too.

Coco claps her hands, "You look suuuper cute! Plaid really suits you, y'know!"

"Uh... Thanks.” Neku rubs the back of his head, somewhat bashfully. “Can we get to Shibuya, then?"

"Yes, yes! Buuut, before that... We should arrange for a place to meet up after you get there. It'll be alot easier to explain things!"

“I’ll be helping your friend out, right? Then she can tell us more about the Inversion that took place here.”

Coco nods. “Super-duper Splendiferous! You already know what you need to do!”

"Works for me. How about we meet up at Cat Street... Wildkat work for you?"

"Oh, you mean where it used to be?” Coco takes Neku by the arm. “Sure thing! Let's gooo!"

Not being given the time to process the implications of 'where it used to be', the two are already off to the races.

Things seem... Different, as Coco's dragging him along. He's not sure, but... Somehow, the inverted city of Shinjuku didn't seem as small or cramped, as the two approach it's border.

He didn’t even know there was a border, but if he guessed anyone would know about it, it would be a Reaper of Coco’s caliber... And not someone like himself.

While they're running at a brisk pace, Coco realizes something, and slows her pace. Letting go of Neku's wrist, she turns to him. Guilt apparent in her puppy-eyes, she bows before him,

"By the way... I'm ever so sorry for what I did three years ago!! I'm a whole new person now, I promise you!!!"

Neku can't shake the feeling that he can't trust or forgive Coco, no matter how close she thinks she is with him, and even if he's determined to help her friend.

It doesn't mean he can't try, at least. Neku gave the guy who killed him twice multiple chances to make it up to him, why wouldn't he do the same here?

... And for one thing, she actually apologized.

"... It's alright. That reminds me, though..."

"Oh? Do tell."

... It was fine to ask, wasn’t it? There was still one thing he was dying to know, for as long as he’s been dead.

"Why did you kill me, anyways, Coco?"

There's a vacant expression resting on his face, as he asks.

Any frustrations, tears, any sense of despair for his own death... It left him a long time ago.

He had the feeling death meant very, very little to Coco. Surely, it was just a small question to her.

"Ahh, about that... The truth is..."

Coco fiddled her thumbs, guilt written all over her face,

"IwantedyouandMisterMini-MotototeamupandsaveShinjukutogetherbutthenitwastoolate..!!!"

Coco takes a deep breath, having confessed in one fell swoop.

... It took Neku a second to process that.

Well. It was what it was.

"It's alright. Let by-gones be by-gones, and all that, I was just--"

Suddenly, a headache crashes through Neku's head,

"G-gh..." He clutches his head, staggering.

Coco exclaims, "Are you alright, Nekkykins?!"

It's another Vision. A Future Vision.

“Beat, are you okay?!”

“Don’t stop-- Keep goin’! I’mma stay here and keep him at bay.”

That's... It's Beat's voice.

“P-p-preposterous!”

“I can’t give y’all a speed boost right now... So I gotta slow him down instead. Ya feel?”

Something’s hurting him, someone’s hurting Beat--

“What’re ya waitin’ for? Go!”

“And leave you behind?!”

“I’m tryna buy y’all some time here, yo!”

“And what happens when you run out of time?!”

“We’ll see.”

What is he doing... What is Beat doing?!

“No, we won’t!”

“There’s no way we’re letting you face him all by yourself! You’re gonna get erased!”

Who?! Who are they facing--

... Erasure...?

“What-- you don’t think I can handle ‘im?”

“No, I don’t!!”

“Defeat is inevitable.”

“Y’all cold, yo!”

“And you’re hurt, Worms-For-Brains!!”

"Either we all escape together... Or we all fight together!"

Beat, you have to listen, BEAT--

"Look-- I’mma need you to chill for a sec. We all stay and fight, we all get erased."

“... B... Beat...? What are you doing...?”

Coco’s saying something, but Neku can’t hear her. He can’t hear anything except for--

"Ain’t nobody gonna be left to save Shibuya... I’ll catch up with you later, but for now, y’all gotta go.”

Is he... Is Beat planning to sacrifice himself...?

“Sorry, pal... Can’t let ya through.”

“Beat!!!”

That younger boy called out in fear, clutching a Pin desperately, a weakened Beat is holding back a rampaging Leo Cantus, there's no chance he’ll last long--

Before Neku even realized it, every second that Future Vision amped up, his legs were running for the Barrier of Shinjuku,

The vision ebbs away, but everything in it is burned into his mind,

‘He looks so different--'

any exhaustion Neku might have had was completely gone,

'He looks how I used to look, even with his own headphones--'

replaced with the urgent need to save one of his closest friends.

'He's throwing his life away to protect the others, the other Players in the visions I've been getting for the past three weeks--'

Neku's thoughts are burning inside his head, as the Vision keeps replaying in his head, he feels like he's about to combust,

‘Hang in there, Beat, hang in there!’

He doesn't even realize he's completely left Coco behind, but

There are tears streaming down Neku’s face,

his breathing's turned erratic,

his non-beating heart is beating, loudly in his chest,

Neku needs to get back to Shibuya,

Neku needs to save Beat,

Right now,

Before it's too late.

Before it's too late...

BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE--

#joshua #twewy #ntwewy #the world ends with you #neo: the world ends with you #yoshiya kiryu #sakuraba neku #coco atarashi #neo twewy spoilers #twewy spoilers

9 notes · View notes

clockwork--artist · 3 years

Text

“But that’s not how it works!”

“Okay, but get this.”

I have two morons Professor Layton OCs that I’d love to introduce to you all! Meet Tom and Davina! If I could draw them in the PL artstyle, I would. Unfortunately, I cannot not. :pensive:

Prepare to see more of these losers in the future!

More information on the two below the fold!

“Though seemingly reserved and not very expressive, Tom is a sharp-tongued and witty English boy living in America. He has a bit of trouble with reading, but this doesn’t affect his ability to read sheet music and his excellent piano playing, nor his puzzle-solving skills. Despite being a brilliant bluffer, he doesn’t hide his feelings for a certain friend very well.”

You heard the blurb! It’s Tom Clarke, a character I once described to a friend as “a British dumbass with smartass energy.”

Some basic info:

His full name is Thomas Mark Clarke. His parents (and me, lol) made it rhyme on accident.

He’s 13 in Unwound Future.

He’s supposed to be 5’7”, but I feel bad for Layton when I draw Tom taller than him.

He thinks he’s straight, but he’s probably some amount of Demi.

He’s from the Northern UK. His hometown will appear in a story I swear I’ll write.

Some fun facts:

He’s not one to become invested in any media, instead opting to engage in what his friends enjoy. As such, Davina convinced Tom to learn the entire soundtrack of The Eternal Kingdom on piano. He went above and beyond, translating the entirety of The Eternal Diva into melody-compliant German as a joke.

Tom takes fencing classes and formerly took dance classes. These aren’t the most beneficial skills in the world, but his dad made him take them.

Speaking of dance, his six years of dance class never made him hate the activity. He loves to dance when he has the chance. He’s surprisingly good at waltzing.

He’s way too good at ice skating. It may be on account of his six years of dance, but either way, he’s way too good. Just because you lived in an icy climate for the first ten years of your life doesn’t mean you get to be a show-off.

His parents forgot his middle name. They keep calling him Michael, but he’s adamant that it’s Mark. They don’t listen. Davina is conscious of this but calls him Michael to piss him off.

Tom likes the more riddle-y kinds despite his literate ineptitude. He’s good at math puzzles but doesn’t like how much you have to think about them.

Tom plays chess and is surprisingly good at it, maybe even falling into the tryhard category. He doesn’t play for fun but will let inexperienced players clown on the craft to get used to it and have fun. He primarily plays black.

He’s not really one to visually express his emotions. The most you’ll ever get out of him is a small smile, a raised eyebrow, or the look you get in a restaurant when you’ve been waiting for your food for 20 minutes and are very peeved, but you don’t want to look impolite as you wait for 40 more minutes. When you do get emotion out of him, it’s usually when he’s speaking and is very distinct.

He moved to California (Japanifornia?) just after Last Specter. He– very distinctly– did not want to move. Tom’s fine with America, now.

He’s related to Flora. They’re third cousins, to be exact. No one knows/has realized it and won’t for a while.

Luke and Tom have been friends since around the age of 5, and they’ve been pen pals since about the age of 7. Even after Tom moved, they kept in close contact!

When he met Randall, he (without hesitation, mind you) said, “The Masked Gentleman is a twink?” It’s the hardest Davina has ever laughed.

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

“Underneath a timid and aloof demeanor, Davina is a bright young girl invested in the arts and humanities. She has an eye for art on par with the professor’s and is an artist herself, taking any time she has to draw the things around her. Her love of music and ancient civilizations has led to an admiration for The Eternal Kingdom and the work of Desmond Sycamore.”

Yep, it’s Davina Alavara! She’s Tom’s best friend and occasional travel partner! Every adventure she’s been on wasn’t planned, and she didn’t sign up for any of this.

Basic info:

Davina is 13 in Unwound Future.

She’s just a bit shorter than Luke, so like 4’10”.

She is very ace.

As stated in her blurb, Davina is from America, specifically California (Japanifornia?), and is Latina!

Some fun facts:

As stated in the blurb, she is obsessed with The Eternal Kingdom. She has sketchbooks upon sketchbooks filled with the costume designs, the set, Janice Quatlane, etc. She even memorized all the songs.

She has an interest in Mezo-American-related archaeology, as well as the obligatory Azran. Davina was never too invested in Azran-related study until she found out about Sycamore, and then it spiraled out of control from there.

She got obsessed with the legal system for some reason. She knows tons of penal codes and general strange law knowledge off the top of her head now. She still seems pretty interested in a certain attorney and his prosecutor rival.

Tom roped her into fencing. She thinks it’s payback for making him learn all the Eternal Kingdom songs.

Davina was super scared of Layton (and Emmy, but less so) for a while, not exactly knowing why. She didn’t trust him and found him intimidating. She warmed up to him, eventually.

To be fair, she’s not really a social person— not as of late, at least. She’s good at talking to new people, she just has trouble finding enough confidence to approach. Getting Davina to trust you enough to start making meaningful conversation is another story.

Strange insults and threats are Davina calling card, so prepare to be told to jump off a microwave or whatever non-anachronistic equivalent to a microwave is.

Davina’s very good at slide puzzles but has no idea if that’s because she’s insanely perseverent or if it’s a genuine skill. To be fair, she never really solved puzzles before meeting Tom and had no idea what a hint coin was until meeting the professor.

She’s a living storage unit, thanks to the massive bag she carries everywhere. Davina clears it out occasionally, but it just gets filled back up again. She always has her current sketchbook, a folder of loose blank paper and sketches, her pencils and pen, a glasses cloth, a pocket dictionary, and a handkerchief.

Davina plays chess with Tom sometimes and isn’t very good at it. She “developed” a method of play she calls “Ammunition Chess.” Whenever she takes a piece, she will either forcefully knock it off the board or pick it up and chuck it at her opponent/spectators. It has gotten her in trouble multiple times, but she doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

Davina loves drawing portraits of her friends and people she meets and has a folder full of pages upon pages of them. She doesn’t seem to like to draw herself, though.

If Davina is in a car that isn’t going incredibly fast, has windows she can roll down, and at a level she can comfortably look out of, she will stick her head out. You cannot stop her; you can only advise her when it’s a good time to stick her head back in. Also, prepare to hear commentary about how pretty the landscape is if you’re going somewhere rural.

#professor layton #professor layton oc #oc art #tom clarke #davina alavara #hope yall like this one!!!#it took me a week to put this together #not counting the drawing #but it's here!!!

22 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Photo

badboy!yeosang

word count: 18k

angst, fluff, smut

to this day, no one exactly knows what sparked the rivalry between the north side high school and south side high school. it seemed as if something that was just always present in the small town, with your parents and their parents and maybe even their parent's parents dealing with the tension had the two buildings been around back then.

whether it was between students personally, sports teams winning streaks, or academic scores, the two schools, centered in the same town only a few blocks away from one another, were always neck and neck. and it made socializing somewhat troublesome, always running into enemies and rivals you didn't even have a solid reason for disliking.

it was even more troublesome when brave students looked passed the silly, unknown rivalry, merging friend groups from north and south into one cohesive friend group. this isn't something you had ever done personally, sticking with the north side boys and girls you had known since elementary school.

but then one friday night party held at a friendly 'northerns' house changed everything, you and your friends walking in to see lots of unfamiliar faces.

"don't tell me she invited those scumbags," you friend bites harshly, immediately eyeing anyone and everyone she didn't recognize.

"of course she did, she's like best friend's with all of them," your other friend scoffs, eyes roaming for the host so she can ask her what the hell she was thinking inviting this many people.

"why does it even matter?" you ask quietly. because while you've never set out to make friends with people from the other school, you also wouldn't be opposed. because until someone gives you a reason to dislike them, you're not gonna base your opinion off a group of people on some nonsensical history of hate.

"you're joking, right?" you hear your friend's high pitched voice whine, "they're literal scum. they come to our parties and try to fight everyone! they trash their school and talk back to the teachers! they're delinquents! do you know how many people get kicked out of that school a year?"

you eye the entire bottle of vodka in her hand, knowing all too well she also has a stash of weed she stole from her sister in her backpack. "delinquents, huh?"

her eyes narrow at your sarcasm, pushing your arm lightly. "okay, sorry we're all not goody too shoes like you mrs. i would never drink or smoke," she says mockingly.

you can't help the smirk that crosses your face at her bitter, snappy tone until it quickly falls when you catch a familiar pair of eyes across the room.

"oh, fuck my life..."

your older brother (but barely, you're less than a year apart for gods sake) catches your gaze and nods his head at you. you can't help but laugh internally at the irony of your friend calling the south side students delinquents when that boy right there attends your school.

because you had never met a more problematic person, always ready to pick a fight or start drama for no other reason than he just loves the thrill of it. loves the repartee back and forth before an abrupt, chaotic brawl of fists and kicks sends people into a panic.

he even loved it when you were kids, always pulling your hair and littering you in bruises that left your skin covered purple and blue more often than not; but it only got worse as he got older - luckily he had learned to spare you and other females.

it had gotten to the point where your parents almost insist you now go to every party and outing he's at, hoping that he'll curb his behavior in front of his little sister.

but no such luck because only an hour into it and you see him eyeing a group of south side boys, making his way up to them causing all of their stances to immediately stiffen. everyone has shifted into slight defense, narrowed eyes and snarled lips and a part of you watches in hopes that it'll die down.

but then you see two boys push their way forward, standing toe to toe with your brother and his friend before you stomp over.

"changbin," you growl lowly, arms folded over your chest in an attempt to look threatening. but it only causes him to laugh slightly, the boys behind you falling silent at your arrival.

"what do you want, y/n?"

"don't talk to me like that," you snap. because he's notorious for being extra snippy with you in front of his friends, like he's cool for being mean to you when you're almost always there to babysit him.

"yeah, don't talk to her like that," one of the south side boys says mockingly. you don't even bother turning around to shoot him a dirty look, grabbing changbin roughly by the arm and over to the less crowded corner.

"what is your problem?" the boy laughs out, knocking into you playfully.

"what do you think my problem is?" you ask him dully. "i know you're trying to start shit with them."

"me? start shit?" he quips sarcastically, "never."

you roll your eyes, not at all amused by him. because it's a miracle you haven't gotten hit or punched yourself from the amount of times you've broken up one of his many fights. and he doesn't even see that that's an issue.

"changbin, i'm serious!" you tell him adamently, "if i have to split up another fight-"

"okay, well, who the hell said you have to do that in the first place?" he asks, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

"mom and dad will get mad at both of us," you spit, "especially dad. and i don't need that." because afterall, changbin's anger and love of fighting didn't just fall out of the sky.

"whatever," he says, "just stay out of it. i'll tell them you tried, how 'bout that? so they don't get mad at their perfect little daughter."

you narrow your eyes at him, swallowing down the desire to tell him to fuck off before he cockily saunters back over to his friends. you stand there and watch him for a few seconds, the boy who mocked you peering over at you. your eyes linger on each other for a few seconds, his curious gaze roaming your face and body before a smirk plays at his lips. you rip your eyes away, escaping the loud voices and tension-filled stares in the safety of the bathroom.

you don't even know why you come to these parties anymore. you never really had fun at them, being surrounded by your drunken classmates who make out right in front of you after swearing they'd never do it again. and anytime your brother was in attendance, it added a whole new level of irritation.

because why should you watch him and keep him from being an idiot? put yourself in danger to stop his stupid, childish outbursts? you grip the sink in frustration, peering at our own reflection and wanting to laugh at how unhinged you look.

you take a few deep breaths, flushing the toilet and letting the faucet run so it at least seemed as if you were using the bathroom and not on the verge of a mental breakdown.

and thank god you did because you take three steps before you're cornered by the mysterious mocking boy with curious eyes. he blocks your path with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest as his gaze pierces down at you.

you look up at him and raise your eyebrow when he doesn't speak, just stands there and holds your eye contact.

"can i help you?" you ask, not being able to hold back the irritation that drips in your tone.

"your boyfriend's a bit of a dick, huh?"

a look of confusion crosses your face causing his head to turn ever so slightly. you haven't had a boyfriend a day in your life but you're as hell not about the to tell this strange boy that. "what are you talking about?"

his neck cranes back and nods toward changbin who you see thankfully has gone back over to his corner before looking back at you. "changbin. i think that's what you said his name was?"

a gag leaves your mouth as you shake your head frantically. "oh god, no! that's- that's my brother."

"ah, your brother," he hums, like he's genuinely fascinated by that revelation. "so what, you hang around and make sure he doesn't get in trouble?"

the condescending way in which poses the question causes your eyes to narrow, now matching his stance with folded arms and an overall cold demeanor.

"yeah because trouble always seems to start when you people come around." and even though you hadn't believed it an hour ago, there's something about this boy that's making you incredibly defensive and annoyed.

a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes a step closer to you, your eyes widening slightly when your back hits the wall. he stares down at you with a dark look in his eye, the teasing glint the only thing not making you feel nervous.

"us people?" he hums lowly, "and what kind of people is that?"

"i don't know, i hear you guys start a lot of shit," you say boldly despite being trapped, "deliquents, was the word used. and i see there might be some truth to that."

"that's funny, babe, because your brother was the one who approached us," he says calmly.

you purse your lips to the side, breaking the incessant eye contact to search for your friends. but of course, both of them are already lip-locked with their newest prospects of the night and not at all concerned about your whereabouts; which they shouldn't be, you suppose, but you could really use some assistance right now.

his throat clearing above causes you to look up at him again, pushing yourself further back into the wall.

"well, if he starts something," you say, voice changing into something unnaturally soft and sweet, "can you guys just ignore him? please?"

an amused look crosses his face, a sarcastic smile on his pretty, red lips. "oh? please?" he hums, "so you're gonna be nice, now?"

an annoyed huff leaves your mouth, reluctantly bringing your hands to this stranger's chest and pushing him back. "no, i'll be leaving you now," you say and leave you do, not once turning around to look at him as you make your way over to the other side of the room.

he watches you take a bottle of water out of the cooler before plopping down on the couch, phone in hand as you tap the screen. it lights up your face in the dimly lit room and he hates to admit that you really are pretty, a girl he'd typically seek out at a party like this and hope to end up making out with. he hums curiously before making his way back to his friends, seonghwa's eyes catching his.

"who were you talking to?"

"that loser's sister," he says quietly which causes hongjoong's head to perk up. "sister?" him and seonghwa both say at the same time; they had all really assumed you were his girlfriend.

"yup," he says, looking up to see you haven't changed positions. "she's...feisty."

"yeosang..." seonghwa says warningly, knowing all too well how the boy uses his smoldering looks and unique charm to reel girl's in.

"what," he chuckles out, meeting his friend's gaze. "i didn't do anything."

"that doesn't mean you won't," seonghwa mumbles, shaking his head at the boy.

"you know me too well, hwa," he says, patting his arm roughly before he meets changbin's glare. "you know me too well."

tense gazes and snarls only heightened throughout the night, the north side boys shouting from across the room while the south side boys just stood around quietly, plotting and preparing for a phyical fight if it was going to come down to it.

and of course, it did. you had watched it all unfold, watched your brother's friends make the first move when they got wind that a south side boy by the name of jongho started talking to one of the girls.

she was there one minute, flirting and talking friendly before the boy slightly pushed her out of the way upon seeing them charge forward, screams of profanities in one another's faces that were far too dramatic for the circumstances.

it was all just a pissing contest really, each side of boys trying to prove who was tougher and cooler when really they both just looked like fools. but you suppose you were the biggest fool, watching changbin barrel his way through the crowd and getting in the face of the black-haired boy.

"so you're the little bitch, huh?" you hear his voice bite, shooting up from your spot on the couch immediately. "i really think you guys are forgetting-"

"changbin, stop," you say lowly, going up behind him to grab the back of his shirt. but it's like you're a ghost, he doesn't even feel your presence or touch, just continues to talk shit to the boy until he draws his arm back and punches him square in the face.

"changbin!" you shout over the crowd of oohs and ahhs, onlookers with their phones out and only a few other people trying to split it up. he gets in three more punches, loud cracks while his friend's fight off the other boys and try to help you in getting your brother away from him.

"get the fuck away from me, y/n," he growls, drawing his arm back to push you backwards. his hand meets your stomach probably a bit harsher than he intended, your body stumbling back causing you to nearly fall onto the glass table.

you watch in a daze as the boy you talked to before stomps his way over to changbin, gripping him by collar and picking him off his bloody friend.

"don't touch my friend or your sister like that," he growls, tightening his hold on the boy's shirt before pushing him away from them.

"how 'bout you don't tell me what-"

"stop!" you screech, grabbing him roughly by the arm and making your way toward the front door. "just stop already, changbin!"

you throw him down in the front seat of your car before promptly locking him in, telling him you're going to get your stuff and that he better not leave the car. you run back in to the chaos, the group of south side boys huddled around the injured boy you've gathered is jongho.

you grab your bag before making your way over, kneeling down to see the boy's blooded face.

"i'm so sorry about him," you tell him quietly, wincing as you see the blood trickle down to his mouth.

"just get away from us," one of them says.

"wooyoung, she didn't-"

"no, san, this is their fault," he growls, helping jongho to his feet and dapping at his face. you can only sigh, offering one last quiet apology before making your way back outside.

"i can't believe them, that crazy asshole," jongho snaps, eyeing himself in the mirror of hongjoong's basement apartment.

his parents had made the space for him when he started high school, first just to get him out of their hair and allow them a good night's rest away from his long nights of playing guitar or typing on his computer. but then it quickly transformed into basically housing the seven other boys, beds littered in the ample amount of rooms down there so the group of eight best friends could live together almost 24/7.

"we'll get them back," wooyoung says from the couch, leg still bouncing from the adrenaline. "they can't get away with this."

"his sister tried to apologize," san points out softly, bringing over band-aids and alcohol.

"that was just to save face," yeosang says near the open window, his lit cigarette hanging outside, "she was quick to call us out for being quote-unquote 'delinquents.'"

"oh jesus christ," hongjoong grumbles, "i mean seriously, what is their problem? we're all the same."

"he started it in the first place," mingi snaps before yunho adds, "exactly. and apparently, that kid fights everyone."

jongho hisses when seonghwa accidentally grazes the bruise on his face, all the boys heads snapping toward him with sympathy in their eyes. "well he's a little psycho who needs to be humbled," the bruised, bloody boy says.

yeosang listens to his friends conversation silently as he inhales the smoke, holding it and letting it burn as he tries to concoct a plan. because it'd be easy to get revenge on changbin himself, jump him at the next party with their fists and stomping feet the way they always do to people who deserve it.

but where's the fun in that when he has a feisty little sister who's already peeked his interest?

yeosang exhales, the smoke swirling out of the window before he puts the cigarette out in the dirt. "i have an idea," he says, the seven other boys turning their attention to the smirking boy with an all too familiar look in his eye.

ironically enough, your part-time job at a small bakery is where you find the most solace. there's no stress from annoying teachers or piles of schoolwork like at school or fighting parents and an obnoxious brother at home.

instead, it's just the fresh smell of pastries and bread, the occasional ding of the bell welcoming in customers and the soft hum of 50s music playing through the speakers. your boss is also the owner, a tiny but incredibly sweet woman who has yet to tell you her age but you have to assume is in her early 70s.

"thank you for coming!" you chirp happily, eyeing the little girl who you slipped in an extra chocolate chip cookie for, "enjoy!"

the mother and daughter walk out, your eyes following them as the little girl eagerly clings to her mom for the dessert. you smile softly before sighing, going over to wipe off the few tables by the front window.

you hum along to elvis presley's version of hound dog, bobbing your head side to side as you wipe down tables and push in chairs. your hips begin to wiggle slightly as the guitar solo starts and unbeknownst to you, someone had been watching you from the window; you hear the familiar ding of the door opening a few seconds later.

"i'll be with you in a second," you call out, wiping down the last table before turning around; your friendly, customer-service smile falls immediately upon seeing a familiar pair of teasing, brown eyes.

"hello again," he says, looking over your uniform that is a pastel pink apron with smiling cupcakes plastered over it. "how cute."

"what- what are you doing here?" you stutter out, standing a few feet away from him. he smirks upon hearing your nervousness, taking three steps closer to you so he can properly look at you.

"isn't it obvious? i'm looking for something... sweet," he says, the smirk crossing his face as he looks at you causing your eyes to roll. this guy can not be serious.

you ignore his stupid words, pushing passed him and behind the register to take his order. "then what can i get you?"

"hmm, well i don't know," his deep voice hums, looking over the glass counter before meeting your gaze. "what do you recommend?"

you bite your tongue, figuring a yelp review of 'the girl behind the register suggested a foot up the ass' would be bad for business; so you smile through gritted teeth as you tell him the chocolate mousse cake is a customer favorite.

"but what do you like?" he asks, propping his elbow on the counter and smiling cockily at you. because he really couldn't believe his luck, that he just happened to pass your workplace the day after the party. he figured it was gonna take time, having to wait to see you next weekend or ask around at school.

"i don't like sweets," is all you say. because it's not a lie. and if you did, you certainly wouldn't work at a bakery.

"not at all?" he asks.

"not at all."

"well then what would you recommend to someone healing from a fight?" he asks, "because, you know, my friend got pretty messed up last night."

your face falls upon the mention of the boy, your heart tugging a bit because you always feel bad for the people you have to pull your brother away from. and last night wasn't the first time someone has gotten mad at you for it.

"is he okay?" you ask quietly, the soft concerned way in which you ask almost making him think you're genuine.

"he'll be fine," is all he says before that flirty, conniving look is back on his face. "so c'mon, babe, help a guy out here."

you sharply inhale so you don't start yelling at him, thinking to yourself before picking up a small white box and tray. yeosang watches you move around the bakery with ease, opening the small blue fridge before turning on a chocolate fountain.

a few minutes later, you bring him a box with six chocolate-covered strawberries. "how's this?" you ask him, the sweet sarcasm dripping in your tone. he looks down at the fresh strawberries drizzled carefully in warm chocolate.

"now that is nice," he hums lowly.

"yeah, they're really good," you tell him, trying to act like he's any normal customer and not the boy from last night.

"oh?" he says, fumbling with the back of his jeans to grab his wallet. "i thought you didn't like sweets?"

"i don't but i like chocolate covered fruit," you mumble before telling him the price. he hands you a ten dollar bill, winking to keep the change before he turns to leave.

you almost let out a sigh of relief when he turns back around. "i don't think i ever got your name."

"that's because i didn't tell you," you snap sassily, his boyish chuckle filling the empty space.

"well, i'm yeosang," he says, walking back over to the register with his hand outstretched. you look down at it, ignoring the protruding veins and black rings adorned on his fingers, before your eyes meet again.

"that's nice."

his lips turn into a handsome smirk, licking his lips in a way that has your eyes quickly falling behind him to the people entering the store. "well, have a nice day, i hope you enjoy your-" you try to say when you meet his gaze again but he shakes his head.

"what's your name?"

"i have other customers," you mumble lowly, looking at him with wide eyes and a hot, fire growing in them.

"then i guess i'm just gonna have to call you babe," he says before his voice raises an octave. "it was nice seeing you again, babe! i hope to see you again ba-

"y/n," you snap, "my name's y/n."

"y/n," he repeats in his deep voice, letting it flow off his tongue. "that's pretty."

you narrow your eyes at him, eyeing the people behind him before he finally gets the hint. "i'll see you soon, y/n."

your eyes follow him out the door and catch his when he passes the window, smirking at you through the glass and throwing you a wink. he misses the sneer that crosses your face, letting out a sigh of relief when he's finally out of sight. you really hoping you won't be seeing him anytime soon.

much to your dismay, yeosang came in the next three saturdays. walking in with that stupid smirk on his face, clad in a leather jacket and boots making you shake your head at him.

"what are you doing here?" you asked again, similiar to the last week you had seen him. he had smiled slyly at you, insisting that the chocolate covered strawberries were so good, he couldn't help but get another batch.

"but this time, can i have ten?" you eye him wordlessly before drizzling ten strawberries, wrapping them nicely in a box for him.

"oh no, to stay," he says, "i was hoping you could help me eat them."

"excuse me?" you mutter. because he's more absurd than you thought if you really thinks you're gonna entertain his company and-

"eat them with me."

you looked at the boy in shock, shaking your head at his commanding tone as a scoff leaves your mouth.

"i'm working."

"you don't get a break?" he asks lowly.

"had it already," you respond, bending down to arrange the desserts you've fiddled with a hundred times already today.

"then eat with me later tonight."

your head nearly smacks into the display case in shock, eyebrows furrowed together before you jump up to see him with a serious expression.

"what?"

"go on a date with me."

a strangled laugh bubbles out of your mouth as you shake your head at him in bewilderment.

"and why on earth would i do that?" you ask him, "you don't even know me."

"but i want to," he says quietly, eyes roaming over your face in a way that makes you feel incredibly nervous. "and that's typically how people do it, right?"

you can only stare at him blankly, brain racing because where the hell did this come from? you barely know the kid, quite frankly find him rather irritating, and now he's here asking you on a date?

"i-i...why?"

"you....intrigue me," he says, "you follow around your asshole brother but you're actually a nice girl. you care about people even though you pretend to be all...feisty and jaded."

"wow, you got all that in our two meetings? impressive," you quip sarcastically, feeling far too exposed at his analysis. "and it probably isn't the best idea to call someone jaded when you're trying to ask them out on a date."

his laugh echoes through the pastel bakery, his eyes peering into yours with an unreadable expression. "see," he says, "and you make me laugh. i definitely wanna go on a date with you."

your eyes search his face for any hint of mockery or joking, very wary of this boy and the way he talks to you. because parts of you are screaming to go for it, that there's obviously something pulling you towards the boy just a little bit. that he gets you worked up and sometimes unable to meet his you gaze.

but you also barely know him and see behind his handsome smirk and piercing eyes that he's someone who could easily have you under his control.

so you're about to utter a no when a loud group of kids and adults come through the door, ripping you from his gaze and causing you to swallow the nervous lump in your throat.

"leave," you whisper to him before plastering on a smile, welcoming the new customers without a second glance back at yeosang who maybe finally got the hint when he retreats to the door.

but no such luck. because the saturday after that, he came in and ordered another ten strawberries to stay.

"i'm not gonna eat them with you," you mumble before the door behind you flies open, your little boss barely visible over the counter.

"y/n have you seen the- oh, hi, young man," she says to yeosang, a small smile on her face. he waves at her, a polite smile on his face that transforms him into a boy who looks like he belongs in church or on a school's debate team.

"hello. are you y/n's boss?" you hear him ask, causing your eyes to widen.

"why yes i am," she quips with a smile, patting you on the shoulder lovingly before she looks back at him. "why? she giving you trouble?"

"not at all, she's great," he says with a chuckle. "she even recommended the chocolate covered strawberries and they're delicious. but...i was kind of hoping to share them with her."

your eyes narrow at him, silently mouthing 'stop it' when a humming leaves the little old lady's mouth. "oh really? well, i don't believe she's taken her break yet. y/n, why don't you join him?"

"i took it before," you lie, keeping your cold gaze on yeosang so you miss the way the woman next to you is already trapped under his spell. the dejected smile on his face is what does her over, insisting you take a 20-minute break and share the delicious treats with him.

"i couldn't, mrs.-"

"you can and you will," she says before bringing her mouth to your ear. "or i will and i don't think he or my husband wants that."

you press yours lips together to surpress the laugh from bubbling out of your mouth, side eyeing her with an unsure expression as she quickly takes the apron off you. "go, go," she says, "i'll be on the register."

and so that's how you end up sitting across the table from yeosang, a box of strawberries between you both as you sit there with your arms crossed.

"are you happy now?" you ask him lowly, rolling your eyes as you watch him bite into the chocolate.

"very," he says, smirking when he sees you roll your eyes. "you know, i don't think i've given you a reason to dislike me so much."

you raise your eyebrow as your lips purse to the side, swallowing down the need to become defensive.

"oh no? this is the third saturday you've harassed me at work," you say, thinking about when he came in last week asking for samples, so many samples you ran out of spoons, before he just decided on the very dessert he's chowing down on now.

"visited," he gently corrects, biting his lip to hide his smile when an exasperated look crosses your face.

"okay, then what's it gonna take you for you to stop 'visiting' me? is this all you wanted?" you ask, gesturing between you both.

"no," he says, "i still want to go on a date with you."

you put your head in your hands frustratedly, rubbing over your eyes before looking right into his. and you can just tell from that, that he's not gonna be the type to let up. that he'll keep coming in every single saturday and spending $10 on fruit and chocolate until you agree.

so it's why you let out a sigh, pluck a strawberry from the box and bite into it before you grunt out "fine."

his eyebrows raise in surprise, tongue peeking out to lick over his lip. "really?"

"yes. one date," you say with finality, "and then you stop visiting me."

"deal," he says with a smirk before his eyes fall to your mouth. you swallow nervously at his gaze, watching his hand reach out before his thumb brushes over the corner of your lip.

he looks back at you, smirk still planted on his face when he sees the look on your face. "chocolate," he mumbles, "you work friday?"

you can only find it in yourself to nod your head, "till 8," you squeak out.

he smiles at you before standing up, pushing the box toward you before winking. "see you then," he says, waving goodbye to your boss who's been trying (but failing) to not make her staring too obvious.

you really, really hate to admit it but you were having fun. and that's saying a lot considering yeosang (and fine, maybe you too) just promptly got you guys kicked out of your date location. he had been outside your work place at 7:55, the loud tremble of his motorcycle whipping down the small street and alerting you of his arrival.

he walked in looking like the stereotypical bad boy, clad in usual leather but the singular pink rose in his hand a sharp contrast. your mouth dropped open in surprise, an awkwad giggle leaving your mouth because you hadn't expected that at all; in fact, you were half expecting him to forget all about it.

but you were really happy he didn't. you guys had a late dinner at a resturant a few blocks away, walking side-by-side in the cool night as you tell him about your shift and how long you've been working there.

he tells you that he lives with his seven friends in one of their basements, his boyish chuckle ringing in your ears over and over as he talks about them. he broke down your cold, slightly guarded exterior within the first hour and a half, now the both of you at an arcade as you try to beat each other at skee ball.

because you had been unbeatable at air hockey. at first, you both surely thought it was beginners luck but after four games, it really seemed as if it was you had a truly remarkable talent. one that he seems to have at skee ball.

"you're a cheater!" you squeal, hitting him in the arm playfully watching his ball swoop into the 10,000 points slot for the sixth time in a row.

"i'm not," he laughs out, looking down and smiling at the determination on your face as you stand in front of the board. you side-eye him before taking the ball in your hand, swinging your arm back and attempting to line it up directly with the top right side.

but just like every other time, it tips off the slot and clatters down to showcase a measly 1,000 points on the screen proudly. an annoyed groan leaves your mouth, the boy's chuckle next to you only making you look up in frustration.

"stop it," you whine. the pout on your face causes him to pop his neck nervously, a thought rushing to his mind to distract him before he quickly moves his eyes around the room.

"what're you doing?" you ask, watching his eyes roam suspiciously around the room.

"shh," he says, putting a finger to his lips before it twists into a smile. his arm wraps around your waist suddenly, causing a surprised squeal to leave your mouth when you feel your feet lift off the ground and onto the runway of the skee ball machine.

"yeosang!" you whisper-yell, like your figure standing tall in the machine isn't obvious enough.

"sh," he laughs out, placing a ball in your hand before tapping your hip. "go."

you look at him with wide eyes before they scan the room quickly, turning around and scurrying up the platform to throw the ball directly into the 10,000 point slot.

you run back with a smile, clapping your hands like you aren't the biggest cheater in this place and giggling when he plops you back down on the ground by your hips.

"there, we're even now," he says, looking at you with amusement in his light, brown eyes.

"so you were cheating!" you yelp, poking his chest lightly and feeling your heart stutter when his hand grabs it.

"no," he mumbles, "but i guess anything to keep you-"

"i saw that," a grouchy old worker tells you, her hair gray and thinning a sure sign this is the last place she wants to work. "do that again and you're out."

"sorry," you wince while yeosang begins to justify your actions. but you quickly elbow him, smiling politely at the lady before dragging him away from the skee ball machines.

"you weren't seriously gonna fight that lady," you say, voice laced with teasing and amusement.

"she interupted our date," he says lowly causing your eyes to roll as you lead him back toward the air hockey table. "it's annoying when people interrupt you when you're busy, huh? like at work, per se."

"oh shut up," he mumbles, squeezing his hand in yours that you had completely forgotten about. "because it doesn't seem like you'd mind now, hm?"

you rip your hand away quickly, mumbling "shut up" as heat rises to your cheeks. he grabs you again by the waist before you can leave, turning you in his hold to get a good look at the shy, flustered look on your face.

"look how pink you are," he says, hand grazing your cheek with a smile.

"stop it and let me go!" you squeak out, even more embarrassed as you wriggle in his hold.

"what if i don't want to?" he mumbles, words whispered as he brings his mouth to your ear. "what if i like seeing you a little flustered and blushing for me?"

you swallow down the lump that's quickly formed in your throat, giving yourself a few seconds to calm down and forget about his breath fanning over your skin before you push him away.

"then that's unfortunate for you," you snap, "now let's play."

his loud cackle booms through the noisy arcade, shaking his head before he confesses he let you win the whole time. you let out a scoff, the two of you arguing back and forth as you play which is what, you're convinced, led you to lose.

so you play four more games, all of them neck and neck until he easily scores the winning shot every single time. but the last game had really gotten to you, causing you in a fit of competetive rage to throw yourself on the table with a yelp of "no!"

he watches in amusement as your arm stretches to grab his puck, teasingly moving it back and forth in his hand as all of your internal organs slowly get crushed. you grumble pleas to "stop" and "give it to you" to which he smirks and promises he will one day.

and who comes around the corner at that moment other than the old lady from thirty minutes ago, narrowing her eyes at you guys before stomping over.

"i warned you," she spit, arms folded as she taps her foot at the both of you. "now get out."

you quickly scurry off the table and give her a small, apologetic smile. "i'm sorry, ma'am! i got too competitive! i promise it won't happen-"

"no. i said get out," she says roughly.

"but-"

"out!" she yells, her loud tone causing you to naturally jump back. you hit yeosang's hard body, his hand moving to squeeze your waist reassuringly.

"god, you're a bitch," he mumbles causing your eyes to widen.

"yeosang," you whisper.

her face twists into one of absolute rage, stomping over to you and going off about his lack of respect and asking if that's how his parents raised him.

"they told me to respect people who deserve it, not to respect people just because they're an old hag," he says, gripping your hand tightly and pulling you next to him. "you screaming in her face doesn't warrant shit."

he turns around when she starts to yell again, the both of you charging out of the arcade with a horrified look on your face.

"yeosang! i- you just called that woman an old hag! to her face!"

"and?" he says, interlacing your fingers as you scurry through the parking lot.

"that is....that was.... that was so mean!" you finally get out, covering your mouth with your hand as a shameful laugh bubbles out of it.

"oh yeah?" he quips, teasing in his tone as you stand in front of his motorcycle. "because you're laughing right now."

"stop, i can't help it," you giggle, biting your lip so a huge smile doesn't cross your face. "i guess that makes me as bad as you, right?"

his eyes roam your face, eyes full of a light and a giant smile that almost had him forgetting why he asked you out in the first place. why he has to keep up his acts of bringing you flowers and holding your hand and whispering in your ear.

why he's gently tucking your hair behind your ear, looking at you with the softest expression he can muster on his face.

"no," he mumbles into the cold air, "you're much better than me, y/n."

there's something about the way he says it that has your eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing to the side before you open your mouth to speak. but he's quick to place his black helmet on your head, snapping the buckle under your chin before revving up his motorcycle.

you sit on the back, your arms tightly wrapped around his abdomen as the wind whips past you and thoughts swarm in your head that maybe, if given the opportunity, you wouldn't mind going on a second date with him.

and lucky for you, many more opportunities came.

the next three weekends consist of dates with yeosang, fridays either going to new dinner spots or (disastrously) trying out rollerblading while on saturdays he came in to order his ten chocolate covered strawberries and waited around for the break you now save for his arrival.

tonight's date was at the movie theater, planning to see a horror movie despite your pleas to watch literally anything else. but yeosang was quick to snag you guys a seat in the back, guiding you in by the small of your back as he held the biggest tub of popcorn you'd ever seen.

the date started out normal, the two of you quietly chatting and laughing through the previews as your slightly greasy hands collided ever so often; he earned a small piece of popcorn being thrown at him when he commented on your butter fingers.

it was when the movie was about forty minutes in, proving to be as boring and slow as most horror movies were nowadays, that things took a turn. at first you thought nothing of it, his elbow hitting yours as he rested his arm on your armrest.

you tried to focus, keep your eyes on the screen and not turn to look at the boy you've really grown to like over this past month.

because while he was still a bit obnoxious and out of line sometimes, there was sometimes a glimmer in his soft eyes and smile that made your heart jump in your chest. and then towards the end of your days together, something else took over. a deeper, darker look that made your stomach tighten and palms sweat, his whispered words ghosting over your ear or the feel of his strong hands on your waist.

your focus wavers when you feel his hand fall to the top of your thigh, his pointer finger reaching down to graze your exposed skin ever so slightly. because you typically don't wear skirts but on your last dinner date, you had noticed yeosang's lingering gaze on your legs and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make feel happy and excited. (but, of course, if he had called you out on it, you'd insist you wore it because it was pretty and new).

you look down at it and bite your lip, turning to squint your eyes at him. but his are trained on the screen, an unreadable expression on his face like he can't feel your gaze penetrating his face.

you look back and swallow nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his finger itching its way up your thigh slowly, almost painfully, like his skin is burning yours. he continues this for the next few minutes, dragging his finger up and down your thigh lightly before he suddenly palms it, squeezing lightly and causing you to harshly inhale.

"what-what are you doing?" you whisper to him lowly, his fingers resting on your inner thigh.

"nothing," he mumbles, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. "what are you doing?"

"i'm trying to watch this movie but you're-"

the distinct sound of someone shushing you from a few rows down causes you to stop talking, side-eyeing him but making no move to take his hand off your leg. and maybe that's cause every week, the desire's been creeping up on you. and now sitting here with him, in the dark, surrounded by a bunch of unsuspecting people, isn't exactly helping that feeling.

because would someone really notice if he-

you feel his fingers trail closer to the innermost part of your thigh, feeling a familiar searing sensation rip through your core causing you to grab his palm. at first he thinks he's fucked up, made you incredibly uncomfortable and drew a line that not even he would pass. but then he sees your heated gaze, your teeth sunken into your lip as your feet press into the floor.

"yeosang," you say warningly.

"y/n."

"what are you doing?" you repeat through your choked whisper.

"i'm bored, y/n," he whispers lowly before leaning closer to your ear. "and i've been wanting to play with this pretty pussy of yours for weeks now."

your mouth drops open at his words, a strangled laugh threatening to leave at his absurdity if the desire and clenching between your legs didn't completely overwhelm your entire being. so instead, a shaky exhale leaves your mouth as you squirm in your seat at the feel of wetness pooling.

"and you thought now would be the appropriate time?" you get out, voice strangled and clearly bothered but still with that underlying attitude it always seem to hold with him.

his breathy laugh fans over your ear, warm breath ghosting over your burning skin. "yeah," his deep voice mumbles out, "it's dark. and we're pretty spaced out." there were only a few other couples and groups in the movie theater, all of them near the front or middle.

"do you not want me to?" he asks, moving his hand out of your grasp to continue its assault on your inner thigh. "say the word and i'll take my hand away right now."

you meet his penetrative gaze, seduction and teasing in his brown eyes as a knowing smirk spreads over his lips.

it makes you absolutely hate that you can't say it, that your body is screaming to keep your mouth shut and not rob it of recieving any sort of relief. you only stare up into his cocky, teasy gaze, his tongue coming out to lick his lips when he sees the tightness in your glossy eyes.

"now let's see just how wet you are for me," he mumbles, your teeth digging into your own lip now so a tiny whine doesn't leave your mouth.

you attempt to control your ragged breathing when you feel his hand slip under your skirt, rubbing you slowly through your wet thong that causes quiet, synchronized curses to leave your mouths. him because he loves feeling just how much his touches effect you and you because his hands are finally on you.

"that's good, baby," he mumbles lowly, "you're doing really good for me. but i'm gonna need you to stay quiet, okay?"

your head lolls to the side, looking up at him and nodding before your eyes roll back when his hand moves your underwear to the side and his finger grazes over your clit. you whisper his name but it only causes his other hand to cover your mouth, slowly moving over you faster causing you to wriggle in the seat. your quiet moan is muffled by his hand and he smiles into the darkness, speeding up his finger's pace.

"you like this, pretty girl? does that feel good?"

too embarrassed to speak, your eyes shut as you welcome the pleasure his fingers are giving you. but then, like in some sick form of punishment for not acknowledging him, he pushes his finger into your dripping opening.

his eyes immediately widen when he feels just how tight you are around it, the tiny grimace on your face at the foreign feeling causing him to rip his hand out of your skirt.

"wait-are you a virgin?" he asks, his voice one of disbelief; he hadn't even considered that.

your eyes pop open as you nod your head, your lips turned into a pout at the feeling of being empty and wet. "why-why did you do that?"

the whine in your voice causes him to smirk, looking down at your legs where your skirt is rumpled at your thighs. "i thought i hurt you," he hums, "but you still want more?"

heat rushes to your cheeks as you nod your head, feeling like every bit of pride and dignity you had was momentarily stripped from you. but the sensation between your legs and dripping down your thighs is almost too much to handle.

"do you want my fingers in you?" he asks lowly, bringing the hand that was just inside you to your lips, his thumb threatening to slip between them. "or how 'bout my mouth? something tells me you probably taste-"

a jump scare in the movie seems to bring both of you back to your surroundings, remembering you're very much still in public and surrounded by people. so when your glossy eyes meet, your own full of arousal as his remain dark and teasing, he takes your hand and out the door to his motorcycle.

you both slip into his bedroom fifteen minutes later, your hand still in his as he slams the door shut and locks it. the ache between your legs hasn't even subsided a little; if anything, it only grew more with your body straddled over his motorcyle as you clung on to his hard stomach.

so you just about die when he pushes you back on the bed and falls to his knees, exposing your wet core when he drags your underwear down your quivering legs. you crane your neck up to see him already looking at you, a sinister smile on his face just as his hand disappers under your skirt again.

"you're still wet for me, right?" he asks, his tone almost condescending but proving to make your arousal grow stronger.

you nod your head, a strangled plea to touch you falling from your lips. you feel the breath from his laugh fan onto you, your eyes shutting as his finger barely grazes over you.

"just a few more seconds, baby," he teases, "you can wait, can't you?" and even though he's getting off on the fact that you're desperate for him, face pinched into one of frustration and arousal as you wriggle underneath him, he feels himself grow hard looking at your wet pussy.

"yeosang," you whine, bucking your hips up in hopes that it'll give you some relief. any relief. just something other than the borderline painful throbbing shooting through you. because it's bad enough that you're stripped here, half naked for a boy you couldn't stand but are begging to get you off.

and he must take pity on you because of that, his small chuckle followed by the sound of your loud, abrupt moan when his tongue swipes over your slit. your head falls back onto the mattress when he licks up to your clit, lapping over it skillfully as your hands start gripping the sheets.

you hadn't felt anything like this before, his tongue licking and sucking every part of you as his own content hums and moans vibrate against you. he hears your breathing turn ragged as you choke on moans, trying to surpress the urge to scream out when he slowly slips a finger in you.

"moan for me, baby, it's okay," he assures in his deep voice, "let me hear you."

and hear you he does, high-pitched moans and a mantra of his name over and over again as he drills his two fingers into your wetnes and eats you out like a man starved. you feel yourself on the brink of coming when he suddenly stops like some sort of sadist, your head shooting up to see him taking off his own jeans and underwear. and that's when you realize just how hard he is, his veiny cock springing from his boxers as he pants pool at his feet.

"i'm sorry, baby, it was about to fall off," he laughs out, the sounds of your moans and the taste of you getting to him. "you're gonna come on my tongue, don't worry."

but before he dives back in, you place your hand on his forehead and move back on the bed, guiding him up with your hand.

"what?" he asks, eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out what you want. but being this forward causes your cheeks to warm, suddenly consumed by an unsure feeling. because you've never done anything like this before. you have no idea what you're doing and here you are-

"hey, what happened?" he asks, noticing your slight change in demeanor. his hand rests on your cheek as he slips into that soft voice that makes your heart flutter.

"i just...don't you wanna come too?" you ask quietly, eyes nervously filtering around the room.

he smiles down at you, moving his thumb over your skin as he shakes his head. "i mean, of course i do," he laughs out, "but this was about you. i wasn't gonna...expect anything from you."

but then the unanimous decision that 69 would be best case scenario won, your warnings that you've never done this before and might be awful calmed by his assurance that as long as your pussy is in his mouth and your lips are wrapped around his cock, nothing could be that awful.

you take your time learning by listening to his reactions, licking around his tip and feeling him groan against you before you take him in your mouth. you bob your head up and down, spitting down him like he suggested and then finding a motion that only seemed to spur him on above.

his tongue dove into your opening with an eagerness that had you moaning against his cock, planting yourself harder on his face as he lapped up your wetness and played with your clit.

you came with a loud moan around his cock soon after, the vibrations causing him to buck his hips further into your mouth and making you to gag. he was quick to pull you off him and lay you down, placing a kiss on your sweaty head before taking his own dick in his hand and jerking off until he released onto your stomach.

you'd probably be a little disgusted by the sight of his semen if you weren't so blissed out, eyes heavy and heart racing as you lay there in a post orgasm daze. after cleaning you and himself up, he lays down beside you and smiles seeing you in your tired state.

"how was that, baby?" he hums lowly. already exposed and vulnerable, you roll over to rest your head on his chest, mumbling something that sounds like a mix of "so good" and "amazing" into his skin.

he chuckles before pulling the blanket up and around you both, his hand running through your sweaty, slighty-knotted hair until he hears your steady, even breaths of sleep. he lays there for a few moments and allows himself this bliss. the bliss he absolutely doesn't deserve. somewhere deep inside his chest reminding him, screaming at him in guilt and horror.

he rips himself away from you and pulls on a pair of sweatpants before quietly leaving the room, being met with the disappointed faces of san and hongjoong who were mindlessly watching tv.

"hey," he says quietly, padding his way over and plopping down on the couch. it's no secret they had gotten a good idea of what just happened, hearing the muffled moans and calls of yeosang's name.

it's a few minutes of tense, slightly awkward silence until san breaks it.

"you went too far, yeosang," his friend says, shaking his head as he looks at the bedroom door.

"what're you talking about?" he asks, the sinking feeling in his heart and stomach proving he knows exactly what the boy's talking about.

yeosang watches the smoke swirl out of the window as he puts his cigarette out in the dirt. "i have an idea," he says, the seven other boys turning their attention to the smirking boy with an all too familiar look in his eye.

"oh god, i know that look," san says cautiously, "what sadistic shit did your brain just conjure up?"

"not sadistic," yeosang assures, placing his arm on the back of the couch. "rather juvenile. but i think it'd work a lot better than the alternative."

jongho's eyebrow raises, dapping at his face with antiseptic cream as he looks in the mirror. "what're you going on about?"

"i figured we have two options," he explains, going over his plan that, of course, they could go after changbin. punch and kick and fight him until his face looks ten times worse than jongho's.

but why not target someone he loves? someone that he finds himself responsible for, no matter how poorly he may treat them. someone that peeked his interest just enough for him to devise this sort of twisted plan: get to know you, date you, 'fall in love' with you just for him to end things in the name of changbin and his hatred toward him and his friends.

"you're not honestly considering this," san says to yeosang when he's done talking, "you can't play with someone's heart like that! that's fucked up, even for you."

"it's perfect!" wooyoung says, ignoring san's words as he claps his hands together. "jevenile, you're right. but perfect. nothing like using someone's sister for revenge. ooooh do you know how pissed he'll be too when he finds out his own sister is dating you, of all people?"

the boys look at each other warily, parts of them thinking it'll be harmless fun while others are thinking this could quite possibly be their friend's worst idea yet.

"i'm with san, i don't like it either," hongjoong says, "she was nice to us and apologized. i dont't think she deserves to be dragged into this."

"she dragged herself in when she inserted herself into her brother's fights," wooyoung says, not being able to get passed his anger and bitterness at watching jongho getting injured. "she also probably thinks of us the same way he does."

the boys bicker back and forth about the plan, yeosang remaining silent as he toys with the cigarette in his pocket. but hongjoong can see the boy has already made up his mind, that he's narrowed himself in on you and plans to carry out whatever else he's concocted in that brain of his.

"he's gonna do whatever he wants, guys," hongjoong says, halting the boy's voices as he looks at yeosang. "whatever we say isn't even gonna matter, is it?"

"probably not," he says with a smirk because his friend really does know him well. "besides, she was a fiesty little thing. she might end up being more trouble than she's worth."

"you said date her, not bring her to the house and fuck her," san spits angrily, not at all liking how this little plan of his is playing out.

"i didn't fuck her, she's a- she hasn't done that before."

hongjoong and san's eyes widen, the latter boy running a hand through his hair in frustration; that makes everything worse.

"yeosang..." hongjoong says warningly.

"i know what i'm doing," he snaps, "jeez, it's not that big of a deal."

"not that big of a deal?" san says, voice raising as he shakes his head. "you're using her to get back at her asshole of a brother! how is that not-"

"shut the fuck up, san," yeosang growls lowly, shooting up from the couch and over to his friend, "she's sleeping."

"maybe i should wake her up then," san says, standing up and going over to the boy, "let her know what an asshole you're being right now and tell her the truth."

"like you being a little bitch is any better," yeosang spits, "you don't even know the whole truth so stop rubbing your mouth." hongjoong sees the exact moment san considers punching him in the face, his small fists bawled before he jumps up and throws his body between the two boys.

"stop. both of you."

and because hongjoong's word is final, the two boys stare at one another before yeosang scoffs. he makes it a point to bump into san's shoulder roughly, pretending that the angry brewing in him is aimed at the boy and not himself.

a feeling of deja vu hits you when you walk into your classmate's house and your eyes collide with yeosang, a small smile on your face as he nods his head at you.

you guys have been seeing each other for a little over two months now, texting when you can during the week and spending every friday and saturday together. it was concerning how fast you let your guard down with him and it only proved to deepen your feelings, both your emotional nd physical bond getting stronger and stronger everyday.

it's why you guys can barely keep your eyes off each other, gazes meeting and smiles spreading across your face before you nervously look away or get called out by your friend.

"why does he keep smiling at you?" your friend asks.

"yeah," the other girl goes, "you keep looking at him too! do you guys know each other?"

you can only nod your head, informing them that he sometimes comes into your bakery since it's technically not a lie, afterall. they look at him with a grimace before rolling their eyes, dragging you away so you're out of his view. "we can't have you associating with him," they said.

so you could only imagine how surprised they were when an hour later, you waltzed right up to yeosang and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"finally," he mumbles in your ear, resting his hand on your hip and squeezing it lightly. "i've been waiting for you."

"they kept ushering me away," you tell him over the blaring music, "didn't want me around a bunch of deliquents."

you suddenly hear a loud deep voice booming the words to the song, turning around to see yeosang's two large friends dropping their asses to the floor.

"a elle le gusta la gasolina!" the red-haired one sings, beer in the air shortly followed by the other's "dame mas gasolina!"

you can't help but burst out laughing, snapping your head to yeosang who watches them with a blank expression. "yeah, cause that's what are. deliquents," he says dryly.

you hadn't really gotten to know his friends very well, just exchanged polite hi's and bye's when you happen to see them when you visit their house. they all seemed nice enough, though you did find it strange that none of them could really look you in the eye. you figured it was because of changbin's antics, who you made sure to apologize again for when you saw jongho.

"they're good," you comment, giggling when the one yeosang introduced as yunho winks playfully at you.

he drags you in front of him by your hip, pushing your body back into his crotch and causing your eyes to widen. what the hell is he- "but i'm sure you're better," he hums in your ear, moving his body against yours ever so slightly and causing you to snort.

"stop it," you giggle, pushing yourself back into him harshly. "i went my whole high school career not grinding at a sleazy party and i'd like to keep it that way."

he turns you in his hold so your chests are flush against one another, his arms wrapped around your waist as you splay your fingers across his chest.

"i thought that was because you never had anyone to grind with," he mumbles in your ear, smiling into your hair when he hears you scoff.

"not technically, no.... but i probably could've if i wanted to," you whine, cheeks warming as he calls out your lack of experience.

"but you didn't," he says, voice dropped the way it always is when you're behind his closed bedroom door. "and now you have me."

you crane your neck back to look at him, eyes wide and curious as you bite your lip to hide your smile. because you suppose this is the closest you two have come to putting an official title on whatever you two have been doing. going on dates and holding hands and fumbling under his warm comforter while you swallow each other's moans.

"oh...really?" you squeak and your voice sounds so hopeful and happy that it makes his heart tug for more than one reason. but he smiles through it, pecks a kiss right onto your lips in front of everyone.

"of course, baby," he chuckles out, "what'd you think we were doing?"

"i don't know," you blush again, a shy smile making it's way on your face. "i don't know the proper procedure."

"proper procedure?" he asks, raising an eyebrow teasingly causing you to giggle into your palm and smack his chest lightly.

"stop making fun of me!"

"i'm sorry, you're just so cute," he says, reaching his hand up to pinch your cheek causing your nose to scrunch in distaste. but then his voice drops again, eyes falling to the lips as a sinister, teasing smirk crosses his face. "even when you're gagging on my cock, you're still so-"

"what. the. fuck," you hear a familiar voice behind you, jumping around with flushed cheeks and wide eyes to see changbin staring at the both of you with fire in his eyes. at yeosang's hands on your hips and your bodies pressed flush against each other.

you can only stare blankly, eyes wide and mouth agape because how the hell could you have forgotten your brother was here? and now he's so angry looking at the both of you comfortably pressed up against one another, the familiar twinge of anxiety and nervousness creeping it's way into your bones when you're around a pissed off changbin ready to fight.

"changbin, if you would just-"

"get your hands off her. now," your brother demands, jaw clenched and body advancing forward like he's about to snatch you out of yeosang's arms. but the boy's quick to turn you around, angle your body to the side to ensure no one's taking you away from him.

"i don't think i will," yeosang says cooly, evenly, like an eerie calmness before a storm.

"you're really out of your fucking mi-"

"she's my girl and brother or not, you won't tell me what to do," yeosang snaps, watching his jaw tick and face turn to one of absolute rage. "especially when you're so angry."

"your gir- y/n, you're dating him? what the fuck is wrong with you!" he screams, the people around you falling silent as they side-eye you.

"don't yell at me, changbin, it's none of your business," you snap, trying to get yourself out of yeosang's hold.

"how do you figure, little sister," he spits sarcastically, "you're making us look so stupid, don't you know that? you look like the biggest idiot."

"i suggest you shut your fucking mouth," yeosang growls, watching as changbin's harsh gaze turns from you to him.

"what, you're too big a pussy to go after me so you target my sister?" he asks. you feel yeosang's hold let go out of you and advance toward your brother who's collar is quickly grabbed again.

"what gave you the impression i'm a pussy?" he asks, tightening his hold on his shirt and turning his neck to the side. "like i won't fuck you up right now."

"then do it and see what happens, see how fast my sister leaves you," changbin snaps before smikring, "not like you really give a shit about her anyway, right?"

one of yeosang's friends, sporting soft brown eyes and a dimply smiles tries to guide you away from them when he sees you watching them in a panic. but you're quick to jump in the middle of them, pull yeosang back by the shirt who immediately releases your brother when he feels your touch.

and because you know your brother, you're quick to jump around to the middle and drag him out the door into the cold, outside air.

"what is your problem?!" you ask, voice raising and threatning to wobble. "why do you always have to start shit?"

"you can't be serious, y/n. you really can't be that fucking stupid!"

your face drops when as he yells harshly in your face, pressing your lips into one another so you don't scream or cry. but it doesn't stop your brother from shaking his head and continuing to give you a reality check. because he's a boy, a mean one at that, and it's abundantly clear to him what yeosang is doing.

"he's using you to get back at me, y/n. for punching his little coconut head friend," he says, your eyes narrowing at his petty insult. "how do you not see that?"

"you're so full of yourself, changbin," you spit, in disbelief that someone could actually have an ego this inflated. because it's bad enough your own parents make you surround your weekend with his nonsense but now he really has the balls to think he's able to have that effect on other people as well? that the only reason a boy would talk and interact and show an interest in you was because of him?

"maybe he just likes me for me. would that be so hard to believe?"

but he only rolls his eyes at your dramatics, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head at you. "whatever, y/n. just don't come crying to me when you discover i was right." he pushes passed you and disappears back into the house, the door slamming behind him and causing you to exhale shakily.

you plop down on the steps and put your head in your hands, frustrated and hurt and annoyed at him; changbin's never been there for you ever. you can't think of a time he was ever nice to you or stuck up for you, not when people used to bully you at school or when your parents on the daily yell at you for nonsense.

and now the one time you finally get a boy that likes you, he can't even do the big brother thing and be happy for you. he has to assume the worse case scenario and make everything about him.

you sit there in the cold for a few minutes, rubbing over your pounding temples and shivering when a cold breeze tickles your skin. you hear the door open behind you, moving down a step with a small apology until yeosang is crouched down below you. a small smile appears on his face upon seeing your red, cold cheeks.

"it's cold out here, babe," he mumbles, placing his warm hands on your cheeks causing your eyes to drop into your lap.

"i-i don't wanna go back in there," you tell him quietly, for some reason feeling embarrassed that changbin made those accusations about him. "i just can't believe him," you mumble, "he's such an asshole. how could he say that-"

"it's okay," he grunts out, voice tight and strained and you imagine it's because another harsh whip of wind hits you both in the face. "he doesn't matter."

you look up at him, heart and stomach fluttering when you see something twinged in his brown eyes that you've never seen before. it's an emotion you can't quite pinpoint, his eyes roaming your face as his thumbs gently start to stroke your cheeks.

"how 'bout we just go?" he says softly, "we can go back to my room and just hang out. or i can bring you home." but you're quick to shake your head, a small shy smile when you tell him you wanna stay with him.

so he pecks your cheek, interlaces your fingers and drags you over to his motorcycle. he plops his helmet on your head the way he always does, snapping it under your chin before bringing your arms around his waist.

you spend the night in his bed, feet tangled as you talk and giggle and kiss until he slips his fingers between your legs and moans ring throughout his room.

the knot in yeosang's stomach only grew over the past two weeks, changbin's words and the way he couldn't even assure you that they weren't true eating him alive. because he'll admit it started that way, he didn't have any intention of actually coming to have feelings for you. but ever since that night, he can't stop wracking his brain over how wrong he's been. how stupid and mean and childish the idea was in the first place and that now maybe he deserves all the guilt and anxiety ridding his body.

because it didn't take him long to realize he geninely loves your company, loves the way you smile at him and laugh and chastise him when he gets a little too out of line. and if all of that didn't make it clear to him that you were the real deal for him, seeing you with tears in your eyes outside of the bakery surely did the trick.

he had come to pick you up for your friday night date when he saw you and an older man talking animately to each other, both your faces pinched in anger though yours hold the slightest hint of fear and frustration.

"because i have plans with my friend, dad!" you screech, resisting the urge to stomp your foot. and to anyone else walking by, it would look like you were a bratty teenage girl disobeying your father. "why should i have to go and babysit him? he's a 17-year-old boy!"

"really, y/n," he spats, his eyes burning into yours and you know it's taking everything in him to not put his fist through the glass window. "i give you everything you could possibly need and you can't do this one thing for me?"

you resist the urge to roll your eyes because that's always his line. throwing it in your face that he provides you with food and shelter and clothing when really, that's what he signed up for when he decided to have kids. because you work this job for your own money, never asking him for a cent and even offering to pay for your own phone bill.

"because it's not fair," you whine, "i should be able to do my own things without having to follow my older brother around. i don't understand why you even enable this be-"

"who do you think you're talking to!" he shouts, your body retracting at the sound as a squeal leaves your mouth. "you should just do the things i tell you to do."

"well why can't changbin do things you tell him! like not to get into fights like a child."

yeosang listens from across the street, his legs itching to go over and help you but thinking it might do more harm than good. but once he sees the familiar twitch of your dad's hand moving up, more shouts leaving his mouth, he's quick to rev his motorcycle.

your head snaps to the side, looking at the boy's figure covered by his black helmet and tears spring to your eyes because you just wanna be with him, far away from your dad and brother and family who do nothing but harass you.

"i don't know what's gotten into you but-"

"i left my sweatshirt inside," you suddenly snap, "and my friend's gonna be here soon. i'm not going, dad. i'm done watching over your grown son."

and with that, shoulders flinching up to your ears because there's a 50% chance you're about to get smacked, you pull open the door to the bakery and wait behind the register until you see your father stomp towards his car. you shakily exhale, grasping the counter to reign yourself in. you're happy you were able to stand up for yourself, finally tell your father just how absurd it is that he's been making you enable changbin's behavior; but that doesn't mean it had been easy.

because that was only half the battle, now you'll have to deal with more backlash from him and your mom and maybe even changbin himself if he ever decides to talk to you again.

and the thought of having to do that sends you into a nervous panic, not wanting to deal with the hostile environment and the fighting and the-

the ding of the bell rips you from your frazzled, panicked thoughts, your mouth opening to stutter out an apology that you're closed until your glossy eyes meet yeosang's. a small smile rests on his face as he makes his way up to the counter, tucking your hair behind your ear gently.

"am i still able to get chocolate-covered strawberries?" he asks, his eyes and tone teasing, "i know you're closing but have a date tonight and i really think she'd like them."

a small, half-hearted giggle leaves your mouth as you nod your head getting ready to grab a box and tray before his arm reaches out and grabs your wrist. "hey, i was kidding," he says softly with warm, brown eyes to match.

"oh," you squeak, your cheeks warming at the way he's looking at you. "sorry."

his eyes narrow at you, tongue poking out to swipe across his lip contemplatively. "c'mere," he suddenly mumbles, fingers moving in a curved motion. you raise your eyebrow but obey nonetheless, walking out from around the counter before his arms reach out and wrap around you in a hug.

you close your eyes the second your head hits his chest, letting out a sigh of relief you didn't realize you needed when his arms close around your body and he hums lowly in your ear. "what happened?"

tears prick your eyes as you think back to the encounter with your dad, swallowing the lump in your throat and basking in the familiar scent of cigarettes and cologne. his hand toys with the end strands of your hair, patiently waiting for you to answer until he hears your breathing start to labor.

"y/n?" he mumbles, pulling back to take your face in his hands. you watch his expression fall as his eyes roam over your face, the concern laced in them causing your lip to tremble.

"please don't cry," he begs, his stomach plummeting when he reaches up to wipe a stray tear that's escaped your eye.

"i'm sorry," you say, voice breaking as you shake your head. "i'm just so... frustrated."

"was that your dad?"

"yes," you grunt out, sadness and frustration quickly being replaced by anger at the mere mention of him. "he wanted me to go out with changbin and got mad when i said i had other plans. why-why should i have to do that, yeosang?" you yelp, tears still gathering but voice getting louder and more exasperated. "he's a grown man! they completely enable the behavior and then they yell at me like i'm the asshole here."

"i know," he says softly, rubbing his hand over your hair soothingly. "it's really not fa-"

"you're right, it's not fair!" you interupt in your heat of passion and venting, "because then i feel bad and now when i go back home, the house is gonna be tense and awkward and oh, my god i'm gonna-"

his lips on yours stop the words from leaving your mouth, his arm tightning around your waist as he pushes you back into the counter. you meet his kiss with fevor, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to slip in your mouth. you moan at the intrusion, bringing your hands to the back of his head and pulling on the honey blonde strands of his hair.

your mouths break apart as he rests his forehead on yours, looking into your wide, glossy eyes. "i'm sorry," he mumbles, "but you needed to-"

"shut up," you say, jumping up on the counter and pulling him back down to your lips. he chuckles into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your neck as he pulls you closer to him. desire builds between your legs the more you kiss, his tongue slipping easily into your mouth and groaning when your own meets his.

he lets it slide the first time, knowing you're in a pissed off state but when you do it three more times, he's quick to pull away. his hand follows to your throat, wrapping around it and causing your eyes to widen.

"careful, baby," he mumbles lowly, his thumb rubbing over your rapid pulse point. "i know you're troubled but remember who's in charge here, hm?"

and at that point, you're almost sure you're gonna let him fuck you on the counter you work at every weekend. but the small part of your brain not completely absorbed by desire and lust screams at you about how unsanitary that is, how you can't allow your little boss's business to succumb to a place you lose your virginity.

"can we- can we go back to your place?"

he pulls back to look at you, hand still wrapped around your neck as he sees the growing desire and fire in your eyes that match his. but he had every intention of bringing you out on a real date, to dinner and maybe another movie that wouldn't end with his hand under your skirt.

"i thought maybe we'd go to dinner or-"

"no," you whine, shaking your head as you feel your thighs clench together. "i wanna go to your house."

his eyebrow raises, trying to calm down the excitement brewing in his lower half. because after everything that's happened, he thinks this might be the worst possible thing to do.

but he's aware of his geuine feelings for you, knows since the first date ended that his stupid little plan was never gonna be a thing and that what he feels for you is real.

so that's why he does what you ask and brings you to his house, locking the door to his room and stripping you down before licking up the arousal between your legs and planting his mouth on your clit. he slides two fingers in with ease, curling them up and relishing in the way you scream out his name.

"more," you begged, hands pulling and twisting and tugging at his hair so hard he's almost sure it's about to fall out.

"you want a third?" he mumbles from between your legs, "can your tight little pussy take that?"

"no, your cock," you say and the words falling from your mouth cause his already aching dick to grow harder. because you've always been so compliant, only moans of yes or his name echoing through his room.

"baby..." he says warningly. because no matter how hard he is, he knows it's your first time. and a part of him feels like it isn't right, given the day you've had.

"yeosang, please," you beg, on the verge of tears again by how wrecked and aroused you feel. "i'm-i'm ready."

he abandons his spot between your legs to lean over you, his face over your flushed one as he stares straight into your glossy eyes. "baby, i want too. believe me, i do," he says, bringing his hand into you hair again. "but i think after everything, maybe we shouldn't- i don't wanna-"

in a lust-induced daze, you take his hand and put it between your legs letting him feel just how wet and ready you are for him. "i'm ready and i need you," you whine, moving your hips so your pussy drags against his hand. "i need you to fuck me."

he swallows down the lump in his throat, never once feeling his cock ache the way it did upon hearing you say that. his takes your jaw between his hand, squeezing ever so slightly so your faces are nearly pressed together.

"you sure?" he asks, watching your face as he slips a finger back into you. you moan out at the feeling, your legs shaking as you spread them further.

"yes," you say, repeating the words over and over until he silences you with his lips. he kisses you as he aligns himself between your legs, rubbing his tip against your slit teasingly and chuckling when you pull your lips away to whine his name.

"alright, baby, it might sting, okay?"

but you're pleasantly surprised when you don't feel much pain at all. he's slow and inches his way in further and further until your walls adjust around his length, only the first two thrusts rather uncomfortable until the third smacks you with a feeling of finally.

your moans ring out over and over, his hard length moving in and out of you causing your eyes to roll back. yeosang has to control himself from not busting right away, your tight clenching and fucked out expression nearly bringing him over the edge everytime he looked at you.

"how's that feel, baby?" he grunts out, voice deep and guttural. but you can only moan in response, moving your hips to meet his steady thrusts. "do you know how happy it makes me to know i'm the only one who's fucked you?"

his hand comes down to toy with your clit, rubbing and tweaking it gently as he continues to pound into you. "you're mine and this pussy's mine now. you know that?"

you chest heaves up and down as your breathing picks up, his words and thrusts and fingers causing the familiar tightening in your stomach to be the most intense you've ever felt. "yeosang, holyshit, holy fuck, i'm gonna-"

loud, squeaky moans leave your mouth when your first orgasm hits, followed by longer deeper ones when his thrusts becomes more sporadic, movements sloppy as he chases after his own high. his brain reminds him to pull out just before he comes, releasing on your stomach with low, deep groans.

you lay there with your eyes closed, feeling boneless as he wipes your stomach and legs before placing a kiss on your forehead. you hear him move around the room before crawling back in next to you, gently moving you until you're both under his comforter. you turn your head to look at him, eyes lazily opening as a shy, satisfied smile crosses your face.

"are you good?" he asks, "you feel okay?"

"i feel like...i wanna do that again in ten minutes," you say honestly, a blush creeping up on your face when he bursts out laughing and pulls you into him.

"i think i'll be able to make that happen, love," he says, pecking your cheek with multiple, loud kisses before trailing his lips down your neck.

it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are when your eyes pop open the next morning, looking around at the walls and comforter before realizing you're in yeosang's bed. the very same bed you spent hours in last night, exploring every surface of each other's bodies with your mouths and hands.

you sit up and stretch your arms up with a tiny groan, feeling a bit of soreness between your legs when you start to move around the room for a pair of pants. but as you put on the t-shirt and sweatpants he left on his dresser, you know every bit of it was worth it. because he truly is a talented man, you think any of his personality faults could be made up with by the sheer power and skill his fingers have.

except, maybe, when you open the door to his bedroom and hear him and his friend seonghwa talking in the kitchen area.

"you have to tell her," seonghwa says quietly. "tell her that your feelings changed and that you regret ever even thinking like that."

" but what if- i can't even think about-"

"she has to know, yeosang," the boy says adamantly, "it wouldn't be right if you kept it from her."

your stomach drops as you listen to the boy's words, hearing yeosang sigh heavily.

"i know. but what the fuck," he says, the frustration and fear in his tone obvious. "how do i tell her something like that? i can't just be like hey, y/n, your brother was actually right, i was just using you to get back at him but now i'm-"

you can't even stop the broken "what?" from escaping your mouth as your chest caves in.

yeosang and seonghwa's heads immediately snap up to you, both of their faces falling before the blonde boy charges to you. "y/n, wait..."

your eyes sting and chest burns as you go back in the room, slamming his own door shut as you frantically start looking for your clothes.

because how fucking stupid could you have been. how could you not have seen that he'd been faking everything? was he that good of an actor? or were you really just an absolute idiot blinded by a hot guy in a leather jacket?

yeosang comes barreling in the room less than a second later, face frantic and panicked.

"y/n, you have to listen to me."

a maniac laugh falls from your lips as you shake your head frantically, taking his shirt off as you back yourself into the opposite side of his room.

"fuck you."

"baby, i know that sounded bad but you have-"

"don't call me that!" you screech, throwing his shirt across the room as you quickly slip on yours. "you're disgusting, you're so fucking disgusting, oh my god."

"y/n, i said that stupid shit the first night i met you because we were all pissed at what changbin did and i-"

"stop!" you screech, fumbling to take off his pants as you slip on your jeans, "stop talking. i-i don't wanna hear anything you have to say."

"i regret even saying that after our first date because i could tell i was really gonna like you, that i wanted-"

"shut up," you snap, getting your bag from his dresser and making your way to his bedroom door. he grabs you gently by the arm and brings you into him, disgust making its way up your throat as he holds you in his arms.

"baby, please," he begs, voice wavering and fearful, "just give me five minutes to-"

"i said don't fucking call me that!" you yell, placing your hands on his chest and forcefully pushing him back. your eyes meet his and you feel the humiliation and embarassment flood through you. because you're still so stupid and blinded, thinking there's actual hurt swirling in his eyes as he looks at you on the verge of a breakdown.

"we had sex," you blurt out, tears swarming in your eyes that start to leak down your cheeks. "i-i gave you my-" you can't even get the words out before a humorless laugh slips out of your mouth. "you fucking lied about everything, yeosang. you lied straight to my face and took me on dates and had fucking sex with me."

"i didn't lie, i never lied," he says, making his way over to you as he holds out his hands . "i like you, y/n, i like you so fucking much and i regretted saying that stupid shit the second i-"

"i never wanna see you again, do you understand me?" you say, voice breaking as you look in his eyes one last time. "don't ever talk to me again."

"y/n, please-" but you quickly turn around and make your way out the door with your head hung low, scurrying past the seven boys on the couch who are trying to act like they hadn't just heard everything.

yeosang runs out of his room the second the upstairs door slams shut, the seven pairs of eyes going from the staircase to the dishevled, broken boy standing in the doorway.

"yeosang," hongjoong says tentatively, unable to gauge if the boy's about to cry or punch a hole in the wall. but he himself isn't too sure what he's gonna do, walking over to the couch and sinking into it as his head falls into his hands.

"i fucked up," he grumbles, voice wet and wobbling, "i fucked up so bad."

"i told you," san's voice says sadly after a few moments of silence, the other boys looking at him with wide eyes because now is so not the time for i told you so. but yeosang can only look at him, watery eyes on the boy as he nods his head.

"i know you did," he says and the whole room can hear how devastated he is. how his mind is already screaming at him, fearful that it just ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

the car ride back to your house is silent, changbin's grip on the wheel tight as he listens to you cry into your hands. he knows you both have your issues, that you fight and dislike each other more often than not, but seeing you cry is something he'll always consider to be one of his least favorite things.

"are you gonna tell me what happened, y/n?" he asks, tone surprisingly calm and even.

"no changbin," you spit, "i already told you 500 times that i don't wanna talk about it."

the car stops a few minutes later and you figure you're at a red light until you feel him put it in park. your teary eyes shoot up to look at him, lips pursing together so a loud sob doesn't leave them.

"if you don't tell me, i'm turning around and asking him myself."

and that's when you break down even further, lips trembling as ugly, horrific sobs start to leave you. he can only stare blankly for a few moments before awkwardly reaching his hand out to place it on your shoulder, shock quickly replacing his face when you harshly knock it off.

"don't touch me!" you scream, "this is your fault in the first place!"

his eyebrows furrow together at your outburst, turning his head to look at you. "what? what are you talking about?"

"you were right, okay," you say, voice considerably more weak and saddended from just seconds ago. "he-he was using me. because of what you did to his friend. and i was so fucking stupid and didn't see it and you were right all along and-"

"okay, wait, wait, slow down," he says, "what happened? how did you find this out?"

"why the hell does that matter," you squeak, "all that matters is he fucking lied to me and i never wanna see him again!"

changbin's eye remain narrowed as his brain wracks itself over a conversation, his mouth opening to speak before you beat him to it.

"can we just go home, please," you beg, "i just wanna go to sleep."

he looks over to see your face wet and eyes puffy, body and soul completely drained and in need of sleep. so he spares you for now, driving you home where you end up not leaving your room for three straight days.

by the fourth day of you missing school, telling your parents your stomach still doesn't feel right and you're gonna vomit, he's had enough.

changbin charges into your room before he leaves for school, plopping down on your bed and smacking your head with one of your many decor pillows.

"leave me alone, changbin," you whine, moving your head to bury it in your sheets.

"no," he says, crawling over your legs to sit on the other side. "you've wallowed enough. now you have to sit up so i can tell you something."

"i don't care," you dramatically whine, "i don't wanna hear anything you have to tell me."

"what if i tell you yeosang told me himself that he was using you?"

your head snaps up immediately, unwashed knotty hair a mess as you stare at him with wide eyes and an empty feeling in your chest.

"what?"

"maybe he just likes me for me. would that be so hard to believe?"

changbin can only roll his eyes at your dramatics, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head at you. "whatever, y/n. just don't come crying to me when you discover i was right." he pushes passed you and into the house, bumping into the shoulder of a familiar leather jacket.

"oops, sor-" the deep male voice says until his head snaps up. "oh."

changbin's head snaps up, eyes narrowing at the boy and resisting the urge to punch him int he face.

"yeah, oh," he says sarcastically, pushing the boy back roughly. "stay the hell away from my sister."

"what part of she's my girl didn't you understand?" the boy says back daringly, looking at him with such determination and sureness he'd respect him if they were in any other circumstances.

"you're fucking nuts, you know that?" changbin laughs out, pushing him again until he hits the back of the wall. "our issues are with each other. so why go after her, huh? are you that scared of me?"

"i'm not scared of you at all actually," yeosang snaps back, "if i was, would i straight up be telling you that was initially my plan?"

it takes a second for changbin to register what the boy actually just told him, his eyebrows furrowed together. because there was no way he just admitted to his face that he was going to-

"i was gonna do that at first, use her to get even and have you pissed off," he says, "but that plan went to shit right after our first date when i realized i would end up having feelings for her."

"wow, how romantic," changbin bites sarcastically, "is that supposed to earn you my approval, you twisted fuck?"

"no, because i'm not asking for your approval. i just want you to know my feelings for her are genuine."

changbin's eyebrow raises at his comment, the intensity in his eyes and tone telling him the kid is telling the truth.

"you know, you give her a lot of unnecessary stress with your petty bullshit and fighting. she cares about you a lot and you take advantage of that."

changbin's neck tenses up and he pops it to the side, taking a step closer to the boy as his voice drops threateningly. "you don't know anything so i suggest you-”

"i'm not trying to start shit with you," yeosang says, rolling his eyes and pushing him back slightly because this idiot totally missed the point. "but if you can't stop being an asshole for yourself, then at least do it for her. because she feels obligated to you and your parents even though she shouldn't."

and with that, changbin watches him walk past him and open the front door. he sees your figure hunched over, head in your hands as you sit out in the cold and something about that image mixed with yeosang's words causes his stomach to sink.

you remain speechless after changbin tells you about his and yeosang's conversation, teeth digging into your lip as you mull over the this new information. because parts of it make you feel a little bit better, that he was honest to you about the timeline and did truly have feelings for you.

but he still lied to you. still based your relationship off lies and negativity and made you feel so incredibly humiliate during those first few moments of finding out.

"i'm not saying what he did was right and i still don't particularly like him," changbin says, "but i think any malicious intent he had lasted for about three seconds. you seem to have the guy pretty whipped."

a humorless laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head, pursing your lips to the side in thought. "but he still lied to me," you say quietly, "he started our whole relationship off on a lie to get stupid revenge on you."

changbin's hand comes up to pat your head like you're a little lap dop, your nose scrunching up at him in distaste before a small smile crosses his face. "it's obviously gonna be your decision, y/n, i was just saying my thoughts."

and with that, he gets up and heads toward your door. you watch him turn in the doorway, looking at you cuddled up in bed and looking so much like the little sister he used to torment. "i'm also gonna tell dad to lay off you about being my babysitter," he says teasingly, "i'm getting kind of old, right?"

"kind of?" you quip sarcastically, a smile tugging at your lips when he throws his middle finger up at you and slams your door shut. your first laugh in days bubbles out of your mouth before you roll over in bed, staring at the ceiling as you mule over everything in your head.

the next time you see yeosang, it's the first time you ever get drunk. another party with only 'northerners' left it without incident, changbin not only friendly and cordial but also sober to keep a watchful eye on you.

which by the end of the night, was absolutely needed. because four shots and two beers would've been a decent amount for any high school girl but especially one who hadn't drank before.

and with a week to think over your situation with yeosang, it was clear drunk you had finally come to a consensus as you dial up his number; he had respected your wishes and hadn't once contacted you, a sinking feeling in you that maybe it's actually because he didn't care enough to try.

but then he answered one the first ring, a frantic "hello?" spoken into the phone that was met with your drunk, girlish giggle.

"i-i've missed your voice, wow," you stutter, the deep, gruffness something all too desirable. "what are youuu doing."

"are you drunk?" he asks, the sound of him moving in the background getting lost in your ringing ears.

"are- are you drunk?" you gasp, "oh no, how are-are you gonna get me on your coooool motorcycle bad boy yeosang."

he'd laugh at you in other circumstance but right now, he has no idea where you are or if you're in a safe space or if you're about to remember what he did and hang up on him.

"where are you? is changbin with you?"

"changbin?" you squeak, the boy snapping his head to look at you. "he's right next to me! he-he told me you guys talked, ya know. k-kind of saved your ass, if i'm being honest."

"can i talk to him?"

you hand the phone to changbin as you tiredly lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as your body starts to feel boneless and warm. you hear the sound of changbin's voice and even a strangled chuckle before he hangs up the phone, guiding you toward the corner of your room where your bag is.

"where-where are we going?"

"yeosang's gonna come pick you up. is that okay?" changbin asks softly.

"he is?" you squeal happily, "tha-that's okay. i've missed him. i-i want to see him."

"okay, good," changbin says, "because he's coming. let's go wait for him."

he guides you up the stairs and out the door carefully, holding on to your arm and trying not to laugh when you almost face-plant several times. your eyes stay trained on the street looking for a familiar black motorcycle that you miss the white car pulling up completely, yeosang getting out and walking around the hood as he races toward the house.

"hi changbin," he says, looking at the boy who gives him a nod before his eyes land on your glassy ones. "hey, you."

"oh-oh, my god, he forgot my name already," you whisper to changbin, "what an asshole!"

"i don't think he forgot your name," he assures with a smile, yeosang biting his lip to hide his own.

"i could never forget your name, y/n," he says teasingly, holding his hand out for you to grab.

you look at it with a smile before quickly taking it, intertwining your fingers and feeling your heart warm at the familiar sensation of his hand in yours. the whole time to his house, you complain that you really expected his arrival on the motorcycle.

"th-this car is fine, i guess," you say, "but a motorcycle is like sexy, you know. even though you're only a teenager. hey, are you-are you even old enough to ride a motorcycle? di-did you break the rules just so you can have a bad boy agenda?"

he snorts when he pulls up to his house, assuring you he had all the proper training and licensing to ride a motorcycle before guiding you carefully into his house. the seven boys are sprawled out on the couch, looking at your stumbling figure with a wary look but a smile nonetheless.

"i-i'm not stupid, i promise, you guys," you tell them, causing them to fall silent. "i-i think he actually likes me." only a few beats of silence pass before they burst out laughing, yeosang's cheeks warming because if anyone knows how much he likes you, it's them.

"i think you're right," mingi says, thinking back to how sulky and miserable the boy's been all week. "actually, i know you're right."

"really!" you squeal, clapping your hands together before you recongize his bright red hair. "hey! you're the one who was dancing to gasol-"

"okay, let's go, c'mon," yeosang says, ushering you into his room quickly because he knows just how fast a grind line could start if that song comes on in the presence of his friends.

he lays out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for you before he leaves to get you water, your eyes lighting up the second you see comfortable clothes and his bed. he comes back in a few minutes later to see your clothes in a ball, your body sprawled out on his bed.

"sooo comfy..." you hum, shutting your tired eyes and letting yourself melt into the warm comforter.

"y/n..." he says, placing the glass on his bedside table before sitting next to you. "i need to tell you how fucking sorry-"

"sh," you say, bringing your finger to his lips and pulling him down next to you. "we'll talk tomorrow, mmkay? i just want to sleep with you right now."

he roams over your sleepy face softly, your eyes shut and face relaxed as your head nods off side to side. you feel him place a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger before he pulls you under the covers and guides your head to his chest.

you're about to fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat when you hear his deep voice mutter, "i missed you, baby. i'm sorry."

the second your eyes open, there's a pain pounding in your head so severe you think you're about to die. you slowly sit up, wincing at the seering sensation that shoots through your temple before a hand carefully guides your back to sit up.

you jump at the feeling, turning your head frantically to the side before your face drops when you see yeosang. it takes a few seconds for the hazy memories to come back, all the meanwhile he's staring at you with such fear and sadness in his eyes.

because he thinks you're regretting all of this: calling him and coming home with him in the first place, giving him a second chance he probably doesn't deserve but is gonna make sure he proves worthy of. he knows that the next words you speak could potentially shatter him, make him cry and beg on the spot and completely show you just how whipped you really made him in three months.

but instead, you quietly get out "hi," and he thinks that's probably an okay start.

"how you feeling?" he asks, running his fingers through your hair.

"horrible," you blunty speak causing a small laugh to bubble out of his chest.

"you'll feel better after you eat. i'll make you something, okay?" he says gently, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek. "there's water right there."

you nod your head, gulping down the cold liquid before laying back down as he pads out of the bedroom. you don't know how long you fall back asleep for until yeosang comes back into his room, placing the plate on the bed before he gently stirs you awake.

"food, love," he mumbles lowly, causing your eyes to pop open. you let him feed you small bites of an omlette and gulp down another glass of water before you feel slightly human, curling back up into his bed in fetal position.

he rests his back on the headboard as he looks down at you, looking over your figure with such a soft, gentle look it causes your eyes to narrow. "what?"

he swallows the lump in his throat, his adams apple bobbing as he tries to gather himself.

"i'm sorry, y/n," he rushes out, "i-i've felt so shitty this past week and i don't deserve to have you hear me out but i swear to you, i swear i only had that stupid idea in my head for a second and then after our-"

"first date," you finish with closed eyes, "changbin told me about your conversation."

he's shocked and a little thrown off by the calmness in your tone, thinking and knowing he deserves to have his ass handed to him. "oh."

"i'm still mad at you," you tell him, "and you're gonna have a lot of making up to do."

"i know," he says, "believe me, i know, and i'm ready. more than ready."

"and we have to be honest from here on out about everything. like we always should've been."

he nods his head quickly, "i know, yes. i agree. i completely agree."

"okay," you say simply, wanting so bad to smile at the shocked look on his face. "then...i'll forgive you."

the look on his face causes your heart to soar, his lips pressing into one another as his eyes gloss over.

"unless you cry," you say, the teasing in your tone causing him to smile. "you're supposed to be a bad boy and bad boys don't cry."

his deep chuckle booms through his room as he shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. "there's that bad boy, talk, again," he says, "do you remember calling me out on my, what was the phrase, bad boy agenda?"

you giggle against his chest as you nod your head, shutting your eyes contently as you snuggle against his warm chest. he tightens his hold around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head when you suddenly blurt out, "some bad boy you are, liking me after the first date," you tease playfully, "i didn't even like you until after the third."

#why did i make yungi dance to gasolina you ask?#i simply do not have an answer #yeosang #yeosang angst #yeosang fluff #yeosang smut #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut

987 notes · View notes