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popculturebuffet · 1 year

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Hatchetfield Retrospective Part 2: Black Friday

Ahoy there boys and girls (and others). All aboard the SS Wiggle and set sail for giggles as my Hatchetfield retrospective rolls on just after the crimbule on your Turkey Day that requires a bottle of Pepper Spray, it's time for Black Friday!

For those friendywends just joining us, I covered The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals. If your new to starkid, I covered the troupes extensive history there along with most of the actors involved, which thankfully means with the ground work laid out I can jump right into this one.

And that was kind of the feeling here. As I covered last time the Guy Who Didn't LIke Musicals was the third idea the Lang Brothers had for this, and was chosen because it was more accesible. With Hatchetfield set up and just enough in place, Black Friday does what most horror sequels (or in this case spirtual sequels), do and kicking it up a notch: there's a much larger cast of characters, a global scope that comes about at the end of act 1, the introduction of one of the settings big bads, everything is bigger, badder and brutaler. So the question is did it pay off? Well come with me under the cut and find out. But hurry, suplies are limited.

Crawl and Brawl for A Doll

As with last time a bit of a refesher before we dive into the analysis: Black Friday follows the citzens of Hatchefield on the titular friday as a good chunk of them gather at Lakeside Mall to get their hands on the hottest toy of the season: Tickle Me Wiggly. Like Chucky you can tell just by looking at this guy…

That something is VERY wrong. The fact he usually appears surronded by an eerie green glow of stage lights dosen't help. But rather than running away from the thing as any sane person would, the adults of hatchefield are running toward it. And the Musical does expertly handwave the obvious problem of online retailers: Their already sold out so if anyone in our tiny town wants one, they gotta get in line.

IT's here we get to one of the things that sets this musical apart from TGWDLM: The previous show was pretty much Lazer focused on Paul with emma coming second, with every main cast member barring hidgens having some connection to paul. Even Emma, the plays deutratgonist, was still partly defined by being pauls love intrest.

In contrast, Black Friday is more of an ensemble, focusing on the various people at Lakeside Mall, and switching between groups with characters intersecting as the plot demands before most of them come back together for the finale, and that' snot even getting into the largely disconnected PEIP subplot. We meet our first Tom Houston via our previous protaganists Paul and Emma, a nice way to both set up the multiverse nature of things and connect back to the prevoius musical. Tom is played by Starkid Legend Dylan Saunders, who started as Dumbledoore and was a stalwart of Starkid up until twisted. Getting his SAG card meant he couldn't work with them for a while, and thus left the troupe. Thankfully this marked his grand return and he's been back ever since, even playing Ebeneezer Scrooge in A VHS Christmas Carol.

Tom is the husband of Emma's sister Jane, a nice bit of setup from last time, and naturally isn't doing well, being pantsless mid day, having left his job due to his PTSD both from his time as a vet and the car crash, and slowly drifting from his son Tim, not helped by him faking needing a drill press when he's really getting a wiggly. Emma is pissed but once she finds out why he needs her, she forgives him.

Tom has his work cut out for him though as the line is massive and if that weren't enough also features his Ex, Becky Barnes, played by Kim Whalen. Kim's a fresh addition to StarKid, but has been acting for some time and is the wife of Curt Mega, a close friend of star kid and part of their sister troop TinCan Bros, most famously headlniing spies are forever, a show I both need to see and cannot stop listenting to the soundtrack to. We'll be seeing him too as both joined up and both are invaluable additons to the team.

Becky is a kind, patient nurse who just wants to get a doll for the kids… and who is gossiped about by the town both because her and Tom were the big couple on campus.. and because she ended up in an abusive marriage that no one bothered to try helping her out of until stan just disappeared one day. Rubbing this in is Linda Monroe, every karen in the world baked into one insufferable but gloriously hammy person, the bitch of bitches who wants a wiggly for her kids and is constantly on the phone with her husband Gerald, who apparently can't be within 10 feet of a cinabon, which turned what was suppposed to be a cruel dig at his weight.. into everyone in the fandom to this day just asuming, probably correctingly, that Gerald once fucked a cinnamon roll. I mean they haven't proved he didn't.

Off to the side we have Lex Foster, a high school dropout with an abusive mother whose hoping to escape to california. Lex is played by yet another new face, Angela Giratnia, a great addition who plays Lex excelently. Mariah Rose Faith was supposed to play the roll.. but instead went to do Mean Girls. Ironically though the two have become very close friends, shooting the video for Yellow Jacket from Nightmare Time together and even more ironically, will be starring in the next full on musical, Nerdy Prudes Must Die, together as the leads.

Lex plans to sell a doll on the black market thanks to her Boyfriend Ethan, a nice dude in a leather jacket who despite being a punk is not low down nor cheap. Hannah however is less than receptive having stephen king style doom prophicies of death today and while Ethan calms her down with the power of grey skull, it's clear given we're in a horror property she's right and our heroes are in for some shit.

And shit does indeed hit the fan thanks to two people once their doors are open to you: The first is Frank Pricely. Frank is easily one of the best parts of the musical, with Corrrey Dorris absolutely devouring the scenery and having some truly great comedic moments..

Frank makes Flintheart Glomgold look both reserved and morally upstanding, and his greed ends up being a problem when our second domino tips him over: Sherman Young, a creepy toy collector who outright admits he's going to fuck at least two of the dolls and wants to buy them all. Linda has to sue to get frank to back off with her attonrey gary goldstien.. only for that to fall apart since he's also sherman's attorney> A man in a hurry plunges the final nail into the coffin by offering money, a bidding war starts and CHAOS REIGNS as everyone but Frank and Lex plunge into a full on retail riot, in song of course, and it quickly becomes apparent that while part of this is just human greed and bloodlust, the doll does something to people as it quickly escalates from simple riot to full blown cult.

Helping this escalation is Uncle WIley, the creator of Tickle Me Wiggly.. who naturally given this is a child's play and stephen king style horror show, turns out to ALSO be a delviery man played by the same actor, as well as a Randall Flag style corrupter, seducing Linda into leading a cult for Wiggly and finding the last dolls in the store.. one of which Lex smuggled into Hannah's backpack.

Things quickly go to shit for our heroes: Ian , after a really touching moment showing what a good guy he is.. gets curbstomped to death by the raving shoppers, wtih Hannah barely escaping, and Tom and Becky find his corpse… and Tom gets stabbed right after. And if that wasn't enough main character murder for you Frank goes soon after while Lex is held prisoner.

So naturally while all this drama nd tension is going on we cut to Washington DC

Yeah this is the subplot I mentoined; turns out riots like this are happening nation wide and the President, played by Curt Mega, is trying to solve it… only for him to succumb to wiggly too. Thankfully John Macnamara returns, shooting the doll and coming in to fetch President Goodman while belting out a badass underated song.

So our party splits into a few diffrent groups for a bit: Tom and Becky reunite while watching Santa Claus Goes to High School, and trust me we will unpack that one in a moment, and reveal their baggage, tom talking about how hard thigns have been … and Becky revealing she KILLED Stanley, as he refused to let her go to Jane's funeral, she tried going anyway, and the resulting confrontation lead to his death.

Hannah meanwhile is in a bad place as Wiggly himself harasses her, first posing as Ethan in a truly unerving scene with some excellent and horrifying acting form Robert Manion.. before speaking to Hannah herself and despite the doll not being able to move like Chucky, I applaud Jon Mattenson for being every bit as terrifying in his own way. Excellent job dude.

So we go back to the Washington Cul De Sac and get a bunch of exposition: Wiggly is an outer god from the place known as the black and white. Their plan amounts to tellign Wiggly

I wish I was kidding: They whnat goodman to come ot bargin with him. The thing is unlike say one Stephen Strange.. their just assumign the authority of ONE head of a country is enough to make an Elder God who clearly intricatley planned out his apocalypse go away.

SHOCKINGLY this goes bad immeditely: Wiggly instead mocks goodman, refuses to help and we get a truly haunting and AMAZING shot: naturally given when this play takes place, the set was decked with garland and two stage lights… which turn INTO wiggly, revealing he was there the whole time. The fact they pulled off the phsyical form of an elder god in a fucking stage show and did so in a way that had it there the whole time without making it obvious is fucking incredible.

Wiley lays out that it was mankinds own need to fill the voids in their soul with stuff that made their plan so easy and Goodman almost dies only for Macnamary to sacrife himself to the black and white to save him and urges the president to nuke him. NATURALLY this also goes bad and the nuke gets instead sent to BOMB THE RUSSIANS

World War III were declared. John does help one last time though: As sherman tries to murder lex, he appears to her awakening her own psychic powers and allowing her to get a gun

And just in time too as tom and becky found hannah and went on full posseison mode, tom running off with the doll while the other two were taken by the cult. So it's up to Lex to wake Tom from the possesion and go save her sister before it's too late.

How she does it reveals an EXTREMLEY clever twist: as Lex points out… none of the kids actually want the doll. The fact it's out of date and dosen't seem like something a kid would want.. is the point. It was all marketing and elder god brainwashing. Tim never ACTUALLY asked for it and it simply prayed on Tom and other's need to fill the void inside. Tom breaks free.

The two confront Linda, and almost loose as she gets the doll.. only for Becky to get the gun and Linda to be too busy mocking Becky and assuming she wouldn't get shot… to try and duck. Linda dies..

The rest of the cultists burn as Lex burns the mall, and our heroes meet up with Paul and Emma and sing one last song and the day, and possibly the world.. ends with an ominous noise and a smash to black. What happened?

Big Fat Buts

As I said before the summary, Black Friday feels like a lot of horror sequels or followups, a clear escalation that tries to be bigger than what came before: With the All-New All Diffrent team starkid having proven themselves by defeating an island that walks like a man.. er putting on a musical about a guy who dosen't quite care for them, it's clear Nick Lang had a lot of confidence both in his team and in hatchetfield. He knew he had fans and thus he could go as big as he wanted and even if it didn't quite land, there would still likely be fans left.

As such the cast is an ensemble, our heroes troubles are even darker with our abuse victimt his go round having to KILL her husband just to escape, a ptsd laden war vet in the darkest remake of jingle all the way ever and a teenager who genuinely thinks she's worth nothing and sings a song as she's choked out. TGDLM went dark but Black Friday goes pitch black

IT's not to say we don't have our usual starkid hilarity: from the whole drillpress argument ("How would it fit in the sedan?" killed me JUST as much the second time around) to the glorious ham of Gary Goldstien, to Lauren just.. devouring the scneery as linda, who alternates between horrifyingly awful to hilariously awful with expert timing. The show dosen't lack humor.. but it's less frequent and thus there's less refuge from the pretty bleak subject matter. While both musicals go darker in their second half, after the santa claus goes to high school bit, act 2 of Black Friday just has a bleak tone, with our heroes barely winning.. and even then it being implied nothing good came of it. The ending is not a rousing if dark number decnsturctoing final acts.. but a very chilling song asking if tommorow will come and hoping it'll be better.

And I.. like it. I'm fine with The Lang Bros having the tones be whatever fits the worth with the Hatchetfield Series. It set in a bit more with Nightmare Time, but it's fine for horror to have a range, to shake things up. It's why John Carpenter is so immortal in the genre and why Jordan Peele is his clear succesor: both have a knack for cranking out masterpieces.. while also not being afraid to experiment or throw something new in wether it works or not and i'm glad the Langs are willing to take risks. It paid off in this regard, as the darker tone fits the story better: TGWDLM had such a silly premise that while ti got far darker than expected, you had to camp it up. While this likewise has a rediculous premise it's grounded enough in our own flaws, that it needs a bit more grounded characters and tone to really sell the horror and cosmic dread, really making our heroes feel outmatched by the elder god their basically playing a game of keep away with.

Another big change.. is that this works message is far less subtle. TGWDLM had a subtle message about the dangers of escapism, using the hive as a metaphor for people ignoring the world's shittyness by whatever coping mechanism they have. It's a fairly well done metaphor ,even if I forgot to tackle it last time. We all turn to something. And it gave no easy answers.

Black Friday.. is about as subtle as a bunch of kicks to a pooor innocent teens head. It's VERY upfront about how people use consuramism as a way to escape their issues, how the goverment has failed us so badly that people turn to stuff to fill the void, that we buy more and more things to help escape how awful the world is. Uncle Wiley spells it out in his speech and the ensuing song after said speech just in case anyone missed it. I can't deny it's just a tad overbearing, even having the President repeadtely go "i'm a status quo democrat" which is funny.. but kinda wears out over time. The musical could only be less subtle about those parts of it's message if the lyrics to made in america were just "THE GOVERMENT TOTALLY SUCKS YOU MOTHERFUCKER'.

That said, while this musical lacks subtley the message.. isn't a bad one and is one worth exploring. While it's not the first horror work to explore consumrisim by a long mile (Child's Play, They Live and the Stuff were all way ahead of it), it does so in a way that really does hit me, by tackling shopping and getting more things to try and cope. I've done that quite a bit. It's easy to fall into the trap of buying shit just to get that small rush you get from getting a thing. I've grappled with shopping addictiona dn I still haven't fully tamed it

The fact of the matter is the system is broken. You can se eit for yoruself most sundays are on "British Man Explains why the System is broken on a slowly collapsing platform with John Oliver". Most people lack the power to change it and ther'es only so much protest and speech can do. It's easy to drown yourself in whatever you can to make the constant pain of how fucked we are stop. To just say "hey this thing will help me not feel bad and tha'ts not bad". And while ti's fine in small doses it's a powerful drug and one that can be abused easy. It's why fuckers like Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk have power and why despite hating a lot of disneys practices I struggle to break away: as Uncle Wiley says "your thirst for stuff.. is never slaked". The message isn't subtle.. but in a time when women have had their rights yanked from them, the threat of facisim via trumpisim still looms and coprations keep getting away with shit while we impotently yell for them to stop and we just keep buying more and more crap to help cope… it's one we needed. And the end message as shown by Lex saving Tom with memoreis of his son, that it's people not things that can help us get through is a powerful one.. and that even if tommorow may not come… it might and break the dawn. The message is fine… it just didn't need to be delievered with a kick to the head is all.

Another mixed bag is the scope. The incrreased number of main characters isn't terrible: Lex and Hannah are great and Becky and Tom are passable, we'll get to that more in the character breakdown, and we get a lot of great side characters like the rise of Man in a Hurry, Gary Goldstien and Sherman Young. So it ballances out a tad. The increased cast size helps sell the packedness of the mall as much as you can with a moderate sized troupe and the size of Linda's cult.

The issue isn't at the mall.. but beyond it. I'm probably not breaking any hearts saying the PEIP subplot feels tacked on. A large part of this is part of what makes this new franchise special… is Hatchetfield itself. Each new work expands on another part of the island and adds more locations to revisit. It's very clear, especially from Nightmare Time, that the Langs put a LOT of work into making Hatchefield feel like a real town with clear locations like Pizza Petes and the Lakeside Mall and landmarks like the Witchwood. So leaving that for Washington DC feels a bit jarring.

And look i'm glad to have McNamara back, i'm always for more jeff and he's great as always and the SONGS in this subplot are amazing and we'll get to them shortly. But the actually plot of it is…

Yeah the plan makes NO sense and make MacNamara, a trained vetran of dealing with weird shit who clearly knows the lords in black decently well and can take down their servitors with his knife of truth thinking one world leader whose not all that imposing, charasmatic or intresting coudl talk down wiggly seems a stretch. "He's never had a phsyical form so maybe he'll know fear" makes no sense.. especiallys ince while it's not a body the dolls GIVE HIM A PRESENCE ON THIS PLAIN. The fact your not going yourself to use the knife of truth on his physical form and you don't even try John shows you know Wiggly's mostly invicible. Don't get me wrong the idea of simply barganing with a god instead of fighting them is cool, it's why the climax of Dr. Strange is one of it's best parts. But Stephen had an infinite time loop of his own deaths to pull that shit off. All John has is a status quo democrat. It would've worked better if John himself went or went with the president. Again the subplot has some good stuff, the whole meltdown with the presidents cabinet is great, but it takes away from the core of things and pads out the runtime for something that ultimately dosen't really pay off. It's like the Canto Blight bit of Last Jedi: it's neat to look at and I can't say it has no merit whatsover, but I also can't say you coudln't of rewritten it to feel more integral to the story.

It just contributes to the musical being strentched a bit thin: with no real main focus character to zero in on the musical just kind of ambles on. It doesn't do so badly, but without zeroing in on lex or tom or hannah or anyone, it feels the most aimless of the hatchefield works i've seen thus far. Black Friday isn't bad but it coudl've been far better and it seems from Nightmare Time and Nerdy Prudes smaller focuses and clearer main character selections, sticking to one or two a story, that the Langs learned this lesson well. Wiggly Jingles

The songs for Black Friday are their greatest strength. While the performances are mildly strained as the performers aren't in their best shape, the songs still slap both on stage and soundtrack and i'll stand by that. Jeff took his already great satrical work from his previous two musicals and, now able ot use a regular musical format again, let loose. This musical may be a mixed bag but it's soundtrack.. really isn't and Nightmare Time and the Nerdy Prudes Demos show he's only getting better with each show. Jeff is the heart and soul of hatchefield and this soundtrack cemented that

First up we have the Nibbly Ditty, a fun catchy jingle with some nice belting and some nice foreshadowing for the nature of the dolls "he's all that you wanted, he's all that you needed" indeed. Having seen my share of children's stage shows, Jeff and co nailed the sound of one beautifully while melding it perfectly with a commerical. Angela trying to just.. straight up eat Wiggly after just adds to it.

Then we get What Tim Wants which is one of the weaker tracks.. yet it also shows just how good the soundtrack is that it's still an utterly soulcrushing heartfelt ballad from Dylan. He came back guns a blazing with this one, with the flash bang parts especially killing me. It's only real weakness is whle the soundtrack has a nice variety and style its own elsewhere this feels like a very stock musical theater number, which works for what it is, it just dosen't stand out nearly as much. It does sum up Tom VERY well thougH: a man desperatley trying to fix things with his kids but his trauma and desperation to get back what he head instead of fixing what he has are holding him back.

Case in point to What Tim Wants not standing back, we next get an Avril Lavengin style rock anthem, California MIA. Angela comes in hot with her first number, and I feel her rougher vocals fit lex like a glove, with this fun pop punk number that perfectly sums up both Lex's edge, and desperation to escape in a cool rebellion number.

What Do You Say is one of my faviorites, and really helps show off new member James Tolbert, the longtime coreographer for the group turned actor this time around, who gets some fun bits as scarf guy. It's a hlariously catty and well done song as everyone gossips, everyone in the troupe gets a fun bit, and the line coreogrpahey is fucking amazing. That must've been a bitch to pull off but my god they did it well. And I don't mean in delivery I mean the entire dance is coregraphed while still having the people wait in line mostly. It's incredible. It also has the immortal bit of MIAH holding up his camera, creepily smerking and saying "Just skip to the fucking". God bless you Jeff

We then get what is easily my faviorte number: Our Doors Are Open. This made me fall in love with Corey because holy shit does he own this one. I still hear this one in my head on occasoin, to the point I even ordered Creme Brule on my turkey day. I did not require a bottle of pepper spray thankfully. EVERY. SINGLE. LINE. is quotable and perfectly satiresing the comercialsim of Black Friday gloriously. As also proven by "Pays to Be an Animal" before this and "Axeman" after, Correy really makes a meal out of it any time he gets a number, and this is his greatest feast.

It's hilarious, biting and has a grew du wop sound

That said Jeff didn't rest because we get another bit that really sums up the holiday well right after… and it's far less glossy side, the side where people fight or trample: Feast or Famine, a great number showing off the greed, madness and violence of the "holiday", perfectly summed up with the chorus of "Take what you want, return what you get". Highlights include Corey's drunk sounding response to the riot and Jeff's glorious CHAOS REIGGGNNNNSSSS.

We end act 1 with Monsters and Men. And having watched a few videos ranking either this musicals songs or Starkid soundtracks in general, I gotta say this one is HIGHLY underated. A lot of people seem to hate this one because it's in that stupid PEIP subplot, but it's a really good rousing song about standing up against great evil. Jeff really sells the hell out of it, and it really gives one hope before Act 2 cruelly yanks it all away. It likely only ranks so low because there's so much else good, but it's still one of my faviorites.

We open act 2 with a hilaroiusly jarring break from everything. See this was supposed to just be dialouge on the screen.. but the whole insane concept of Santa Claus Goes to High School was too fun and it's clear after all this time the Langs STILL love High School Musical, so doing a Disney Channel style number as well as a parody of those sort of movies for tweens was too tempting. And i'm glad we did as we got the holiday classic deck the halls of northville high. It's an energetic number that deserves it's own mini musical, hilarious, over the top, and greatly belted by Robert. The escalting insanity from the elves to "mr humbuger" just adds to it. It's so perfectly Disney Channel. Seriously make this a movie and have Calum Worthy in it despite being about 30 at this point. Do it. Do it now. if you've seen reboot you'l know why.

For those of you wondering what Santa Claus Goes to High School is it's exactly that: Santa becomes a teenager to get down with the kids, makes out with a teen.. it's pretty nuts.

Spekaing of santnta making out with a teen we get the excellent Take Me Back next, as Kim Whalen really gets to show off her pipes, and Dylan gets to show back. A nice sorrowful number about what could've been and what still might be as two old loves firmly reconnect. The interlude from Santa Claus Goes to High School and Jamies delivery of santa before she jumps robert.. fucking amazing.

We then get our first in a string of awesome villian songs and it's Lauren's turn to shine as she gets what seems to be her first full on Villian Song in the Starkid Catalogue and it was about damn time as holy shit does she nail it. Linda gets to show off her incredible ego as she demands your love and worship too… or she will end you. An all timer of a villian song, helped of course by "unless I get what I shit".

Next is "Do You Want To Play?". I admit it's not the most musically ambitious or clever of these.. but that's the point. It's simply a very creepy song sung by a wiggy possed Becky and Tom as they hunt poor Hannah. It's just supposed to be lightly enchanting and DEEPLY unsettling. It's easily one of the creepiest parts of the play.

Capping off this trilogy is Made In America. This is one that's grown on me at times as this is where things are at their most

But over time i've come to figure it's a REALLY good song, with Wiley mocking humanity for making it SO easy for them. Honestly though it wouldn't work half as well without one man. Joey Fucking Richter. While this isn't HIS first villian song and Wagon On Fire is amazing and showed he could pull this off, it shows he shoudl've been given more because hot damn this one is good. It's his vocals that really bring it to life and make me love this one. There's really not a bad one among this soundtrack.

And then.. we get our title track, which is a VERY close second for my faviorite. Honestly it's hard to tell if I like this or doors are open better in part because their so very diffrent; Doors are Open is a goofy, brutal satire of Black Friday itself.. while Black Friday is a very dark rock solo about Lex comtemplating her life and how much she feels it's a waste, her relationship with hannah, and her oncoming death. It's throughly tragic, watching this teenager think so little of herself as she slowly fades away, and pointing out just how much hope Hannah gave her .. and how she'll have to be fine without her because "I'm leaving". It just.. destroys me every time and I let it EVERY TIME. Angela got to show off nicely with CalfiorniaMIA but this made me marvel at how amazing a singer she is. Goddamn.

The Monsters and Men Reprise is decent. Not much else to say, it's just a nice short song of hope after Lex hit her rock bottom.

If I Fail You is.. fine. It's another very typical ballad. And look being standard is fine, there have been some really great broadway numbers and will be. it's just that other ones like "Take Me Back' and "Monsters and Men on this same album are SO much better and so much more resonant. This is just kinda there and to me is the weakest of the tracks. While I feel Monsters and Men gets

Thankfully we cap off Linda before Becky caps her with "Wiggle" right after. Another amazing villian song this one darker and more cultish to show just how CLOSE she is to winning. Is it entirley necessary? Probably not. Would I cut it

This song is another great showcase for Lauren and a banger of a villian song.

Then of course we have our finale, a truly awesome and haunting some from Kendall Nicole, a child actress whose a student of Kurts.. who fucking nails it as Hannah. It's a shame she coudln't come back for BLack friday 2 but she was awesome while we had her as this is a nicely haunting song that fits the darker town and bleakness of the ending: we wont' know if our heroes survivie or not… we just have to have hope. Did tommorow turn the night off? With a song this beautiful and hautning it dosen't matter. Shoppy Shop People

So finishing things we have our group of surviviors trapped in a mall, our cultists and of course our characters stranded ove rin subplot land to break down.

Starting off we have who I consider to be the best of the main cast, Lex Foster. The musical REALLY coudl've been served better focusing on her as the center, with Hannah or Tom serving as a secondary ala Emma, as she's easily the most engaging of the main cast. Lex easily could've been an edgy snarky teen sterotype as many teen dramas tend to have.. but instead is a character who while snarky and prone to doing crimes.. is throughly sympathetic and realistic. She's not jaded because she won't be a part of your system man, she's jaded because everything has failed her: her mother is implied here and confirmed in later works to be abusive, the school barely tried to help her , and the one teacher she DID like left and you can see both sides when she lashes out at Tom: Tom is coming to her for a favor after essnetially abandoning her.. but he had his own trauma to deal with he hasn't. You can't blame Lex for feeling abandoned but you can't blame tom for doing it when he was in no shape to help anyone most of all himself. It's just a tragedy of time, crucmstances and a system that dosen't give a damn about the kids it teaches some of the time. The teachers care and can try, but they can only do so much. It's no wonder Lex's plan is a desperate, shaky gamble, and one that may not even work if Pam bothers to call the police.

Yet despite the lashing out she genuinely loves her sister. Hannah is not just a tool to make lex feel better: Lex does muse "did I need her more than she needed me".. but her plan to run away would have NO risks other than the usual of trying to flee to LA using sketchy doll money if she left Hannah behind. It shows that while Lex may doubt herself.. she's a genuinely great caretaker to her sister and the one major scene they have togehter shows it: she chastises Ethan for calling her crazy, tries to calm hannah's panic attack down gently without snapping at or judging her, and clearly is only trying to calm Hannah's worries about the mall because she sees them as regular anxiety and not that mixed with end of the world doom visions. She loves her sis and wants her to have the best. Usually that wouldnt' include a kidnapping and I wouldn't condone this sort of thing but again, and it's left ambitious here if it's really that bad.. but trust me it is. Sometimes a terrible solution with clear consequences is better than no solution.

Much like Paul her self hatred only becomes apparent via song: It's not until black friday we get a full sense of how much this poor young woman hates herself and feels her death. Black Friday the song is brilliant in just having it stripped away: she feels there was "nothing to subtract" that she did and acomplished nothing and wonders if she even shoudl've wanted. It's a powerful give in to despair that makes MacNamara unlocking her powres and saving her so damn cathartic. Lex finally gets agency in her life nad kicks it's ass and it's beautiful to see, saving Tom form himself and wiggly.

Tom himself.. is a mixed bag. The idea is a good, a down to earth man trying to grapple with ptsd and raising his son and loosing his wife. The problem is in execution, Tom is just whatever the plot needs him to be or focus on, either being stuck in Jingle All The Way 3: Wow This Series Got Dark, or focused on becky. He gets some beauitufl numbers from Dylan but no real shape or form. He's a bit bumbling and tha'ts all we really get. Tom could be more and to the langs credit he's ab it more of a character in his next starring role Jane's A Car.. .and he also got to full on fuck a car so that helped. I just wish he was here. Dylan feels wasted in the roll, only elevating it because he's that good.

Becky also suffers from feeling underwrittne. She's mostly just

For most of the procediings. She does get a few standout moments. Her face when Linda just straight up tells her everyone knew stan abused her and no one cared

Is devistating.. and Kim utterly sells the reveal that she killed stan and the whole monologue is sad and chilling. She's a tragic character, a woman who had her agency ripped from her by a monster, lost her chance with the preson she actually liked and even freedom has just left more people laughing at her and Becky likely terrified Stanely will find out again. There's a lot to her but again the musical just.. dosen't really focus on it outside of two scenes and her arc is just solved with.. shooting her arch enemy in the head

It dosen't help her problems along, it just… is really badass. Which is nice but it'd be nicer if there was some sort of closure beyond bang bitch went down

Hannah again suffers from the same problme as the others: not enough focus, being more of a plot device. Like all these characters Kendalls performance elevates it and the poor child goes through hell, and KNOWS something like it is coming but everyone's convinced it's her possible disablity and not her psychic powers that ecaservate a possible disablity. She does get the great scene dealing with Wiggly and thankfully Hannah gets two nightmare time stories in the center to make up for this btu once again it's a great description for a character.. that gets to do nothing because this musical has like 20 stories to get to.

That said while the musical underwites most of it's characters to it's detriment… there are exceptoins. For all the heroes potetial being squandered our villians are fucking fantastic. And starting off we have Linda Fucking Monroe. She starts out broad, hilariously catty.. then horribly cruel, mocking becky over her ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP and calling her WEAK for it.

What makes Linda work so well is that she's so evocative of the Karens we see all the time: the kind of asshole who asks to see a manager in the rudest way possible, will call the cops on a child with a sword because she dosen't like his skin, and will throw a hissy fit the second things go slightly wrong. We've all seen videos of Linda Monroes.. but at the core Linda shows wha thappens when your average asshole, if well connected and rich, is simply nudged in the wrong direction to being an absolute monster. The potetial was there, again this woman mocked someone for being an abuse victim.. but she dosen't quite seize it right away. It takes Uncle Wiley prodding her, pointing out the need to be loved and admired and her skill at manipulation to blossom her from cruel bitch to full on monster. It dosen't take a far push for someone to go from simply being a very, very cruel asshole to being capable of great evil.

It helps Lauren Lopez really hams it up. She's utterly horrifing when need be, wether it's when calling Becky weak or killing Frank, but she's also just hilariously over the top the rest of the time, but in a way that works: she's every entitled shithead roleld into one and Lauren just owns it. The fact she spends the whole play talking to her hsuband who waits out there for her for hours, and the payoff to that with Gary talking to gerald about the will is gold by the by just adds to it. Linda is both over the top but also compitent and ruthless. She knwos how to play the wigglyites, with the frenzy having helped.. but ont heir own they just woudl've been madened assholes, dangerous as seen with poor Ethan, but under her their an army, their her children.. and they almost win. She's not a super mastermind or anything, it stillt akes the lucky break of Lex coming right ot them for them to actually get the doll and had Lex not talked Tom down, the doll woudl've left the mall, but Linda still manages to turn a disorganized mob into a cult in a manner of hours with only a slight push and a promise of power. It's not a sign anyone can become bad with the right push.. tis' a sign a bad person can become life destroyingly awful with the right push and it is great.

Next is Uncle Wiley, aka MacNamara's friend Wilbur Cross, a former PEIP agent who upon meeting wigly was turned into his right hand, his mouth of sauron his number. one. guy. Since it takes some effort for Wiggly and his brothers to take form on earth, as we'll see as we get into nightmare time, he needed someone and for whatever reason Uncle Wiley took up the roll. Is he brainwashed? did Wiggly simply turn any evil in wilbur up? or was Wilbur Cross always just one push away from the dark side and Wiggly simply pushed him far enough. We still don't know and it's part of what akes WIley awesome: we don't know WHY he's like this, why he's so respected by an elder god that Wiggly fully trusts him with the plan and never talks down to Wiley or orders him around, treating him almost as an equal. It's clear whose in charge.. it's also clear Wiggly has so much faith in his frendy wend that he trust shim to carry out th eplan to the letter without going into his own agenda. To say his words for him before his big reval in the black and white. To trust his servants the sniggles to him as minons. Wiley is just as much a threat as his boss without nearly as much power and his mystery, while one I'd be curoius to se esolve, just adds to it.

It help's he's just charasmatic. At first seen as a goofy host and seemingly just a dleivery guy , the second he reveals himself as Wiley and shows up to Linda the switch flips> He goes from just another guy or a succesful toymaker.. to the devil himself. A manveloent tempter who simply takes what was in a person and gives it purpose and focus toward his dark lords ends. Joey Richter just projects this sense of unease to the audience, simply by being utterly calm. He takes everything easily and only really starts to project at his most when he sings, poitning out how huamntiy's own flaws and america's abandonment of it's own people gave Wiggly the weapon he needed. All they needed was the right package and a slight amplifciation from the magic. After all they needed to actually be AROUND the wiggly to become frenzied like most of the shoppers did. But it's human nature, greed and longing that let Wiggly in and all Wiley did was give them a solution to their problem. A need to fill a hole. And osmetimes that's all it takes. He's one of the most fascneating and haunting characters this franchise has put otu and I'm eager to see him again.

Finally we have Wiggly himself and Jon Mattenson, really tears it up as the friendy wend in chief. And yet he spends a good chunk of the play passive and not really talking, only getting two bits of dialouge, one in a commerical and the other failing to convert lex, and with people's own self destruction guiding thigns. It's not until Wiley shows up again and recurits Linda we get the idea Wiggly is the god he is.

And it works brilliantly: it reminds me of the first child's play: it's fairly obvious the doll is really behind this, especailly now said doll is a horror icon, yet the suspense of what's up with it, why is he not moving, and his true motives keep you hooked.. and thus makes when theyf inally do speak as themselves allt he more impactful

Case in point the bit with Hannah> Wiggly first appears as an illusion of Ethan, which Manion sells horrifingly well: while you know this really isn't ethan from minute one ti's not because well no doy, but because something's.. off about Evil Ethan. He acts like an unsettling evil jim carrey and not the ethan we knew: he's not laid back he's manic and just wants Hannah to split. it's truly unerving.. nad yet somehow and inanmiate (due to budget sadly) doll is even more terrifying. Jon delivering Wiggly's threat that "Your a rotten banana, i'm going to peel you hanana and SPLIT, YOU TO BITS", is so perfect, having that cutesy tone of a childeren's toy.. while being utterly terrifying. Wiggly is like if Chucky didn't drop the good guy voice and got his sweet jersey accent and it's unerveing as hell. A truly masterful new villian…. and the dawn of a whole new bunch of freindy wends to come and play. But we'll get to his brothers soon enough.. just not this time.

Frank Pricely is a fucking masterpiece. He dosen't last long, but Corey eats up every bit of screen time as this throughly unlikeable dick who gets his rightful commupance.. but not before again a giant gala musical number where he comes off as manager frank n furter, gives the fans all the pelvic thrusts they could want, brags about how greedy and horrible he is like mr krabs cloned himself but it came out human, and just utterly devours the scene. One of Corey's greatest parts and i'm Psyched to see him again in Daddy.. and they had to know what they were doing titling a frank centric story that.

So we've come to MacNamara and Goodman

Yeah as I said the Peip stuff is fairly week. Mac himself is fine as always, hammy, a source of hope an da decen tbig good. You still come out thinking

But I give Jeff Credit for being awesome as always. Sadly Curt Mega can't say the same. He tried his best, I don't place any of the blame on him and just from HEARING him from the soundtrack for Spies are Forever I knew he had a ton of talent going into this muiscal. President Goodman is just given nothing to work with. His only jokes are he's terribly qulaified for this crisis and he's a status quo democrat. He's.. nothing.

Thankfully we also get some great side characters. We get Ethan a mildly insetive but ultimately emapthetic and sweet boyfriend. Robert really does a good job making him charming: he and angela had great chemistry and you can see why Lex likes and trusts him, and despite being a tad insentive to hannah at first, helps calm her down and sacrifices himself so she gets away. His death is one of the most horrific and tragic moments in the hatchetfield universe, a teenager cut down in the prime of his life in a bloody and brutal way. Unlike the violence for the previous musical, we see the blood and see the poor guy slowly fade out. Truly chillling.

We aslo get the glory that is Gary Goldstien Attorney at Law. He was cleary created because while jon's main role was mickey he needed something else to do, it dosen't make him any less comedically brillant and it's puzzling that, as far as I can tell, he hasn't returned since so far. He's true comedy gold, from the goofy voice, to him gladly rerespenting two clients with conflicting intrests, to putting his tie aroun dhis head like a neckband to my faviorite thing his response to a groin attack being "ohhh right in the supoenas!" like this happens every day. He's a national treasure. The fact Jon used the SAME VOICE for one of his own characters, his BEST character, and says the two are brothers both makes this better, introduced me to the wonder that is venus please, and makes me hope Elmo gets backported into the hatchetverse. Behold his glory bellow

youtube

True. Art. Finally for new characters we have sherman young. While i'm still sore Jamie Lynn Beatty STILL hasn't gotten a starring role, I mean what the fuck, she does get to fill Lauren and Jeff's usual slot of cast weirdo. I mean she shares it with jeff here but still, she gets to really ham it up as this creep and while he's not a great character, having a creepy manchild toy collector (note collecting toys dose not make you a manchild or a creep, wanting to fuck them and hoard them all for yourself makes you a creek) does make sense and him being the one to nearly kill lex assuming as a worker she's there just to serve him was still perfectly horrifying. Not Jamie's best, but as usual for this one not her fault.

We get a few happy returns. Besides Ted, Charlotte and BIll all showing up in the final number, we get MAN IN A HURRY. Because he didn't get to say i'm in a hurry last time… Nick just decided to make that one big joke so his entire personality is now I'M IN A HURRY, and if you think him being in a hurry at black friday is a bit of a stretch.. you haven't seen anything yet. And they coudl've coasted on this one joke and i'd be fine, but adding other bits for him from being a bit of a creep (again JUST SKIP TO THE FUCKING), and loudly shouting CHAOS REIGNS. It's a great showcase for Jeff.

We also get Paul and Emma back as mentiond and while their scenes are great we see both growth in emma and some peak awkward paul "We ar eintimate". It' snot much but it was fun to see them again. Not so much the NEXT time we see them again.. but. we'll. get. to. that. Our Doors Are Closed

Black Friday is a decent musical but it's a mess. The characters can be underwritten, the tone goes a bit too dark for it's own good, and the PEIP subplot needed vast reworking they didn't get or want to do. It's an ambitious work, but one that's kicked in the head by an overused running gag with it's ambition. I can't fault the Langs for going hard on this one, I just wish it'd came togethe rbetter. The bright side is.. furture projects did. While Nightmare Time keeps narrow character focus again, we still get big stories involving a whole ass theme park, time travel to a dystopian future, and an entire dreamlike finale. Sure it's all done over camera because pandemic and all that, but it still shows how they learned to expand in scope while knowing when to ease back and hopefully that stays now their back on stage. Black Friday is still VERY much worth watching though with great music, set pieces and coreography and the performers do thier best, it's just one of the more uneven works in this fairly new franchise is all. It's not even my least faviorite or anything, we'll get to that in feburary.

SO with that we close up the mall for the season, shutter the doors and prepare for the month ahead. I probably wont' be doing any starkid material in December, it's pretty packed and this works well as a christmas edition. I"ll be back hopefully monthly in january, as the nightmare time is gonna get you as we dive back into the first two episodes. Thanks for reading, consider joining my patreon, and have a good day.

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iman2 · 7 months

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(re)collections: who loves him?

i remember i started calling myself fallon cuz i liked the name. if i were a singer, i'd call myself fallon. i got it from some chick on coll3ge hill (v.i). but you know what? before i started to call myself fallon, i used to call myself niki. after my cousin who i idolised. but no, that wasn't why.

onigga stole 11 y/o me. you're gonna say the time doesn't match and i'm going to tell you that you don't know how secret societies work. they find their members' reincarnations, initiate them from afar with magic and then come collect them when the time is right.

my chinese bf, he was garn3tt silk last. he died to make la-ryn h!ll. then he died again to make onigga seem like lauryn but what do i have to do with this? i guess they saw our destinies were intertwined and gave her the 2 for 1 special. it's onigga who stole 11 year old me. her name is either nikki or fallon.

cuz y does she think she's chinese? y'all know why i do. also what destiny did she have with a chinese ex-jamaican nigga? she's surprising girly for some ugly tomboy bitch cuz that's fallon, right? oh nah, it's because onigga switched with me...

it's always some closeted lesbian. i was supposed to be deflowered by someone special and significantly older at 14. onigga said no to the trinidadian version of this person cuz how can she be nikki if some dick makes me nikki? onigga cannot cosplay his girlfriend? she's not gay?

circa 2012, trizzy could've fixed this but onigga said no and broke us up. my sister and her mom said no also (we don't do half siblings here). #deathmagick

cuz how could she fuck trizzy and eventually cb/future if i'm doing it? she ends up fucking another trini rapper/producer called k.g. it was my fortune. he was the local 14 y/o dick. she's in love with him, he's in love with me. yk how it is. i only found out like yesterday. growing up, every time i wanted a man, he wanted my sister. she switched with me.

also pinkz, barbie...#everybodyssocreative

anyway, this seems to be the version of events where i meet a celeb via a twerking video. so 11, then 19 year old me is fukkyfukkysukkysukky? why? she's just a dancer, bro.

i'm hearing that it's nia? america thinks nia is this version of me? nia is fallon?

fucking hell. it's because they like pussy, they're actually unattractive and they're love spell hoes! i'm not that. it's probably the fucking breasts too. i'm guessing she's the only one to fck the alien so y'all think it's her. goddamnit.

#fukkyfukkysukkysukky #is a dancer #ft onigga

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miastideclock · 3 years

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Stray Kids Reaction To Their S/O Being Shy About Their Singing-Talents

anon asked:

Can you do stray kids reaction to their s/o being a good rapper and singer but they get shy and have low confidence? - 🐻💙

Of course love! I hope you like it x So sorry for the wait! While we're here, I just wanna say I'm sorry for the length difference of the individual reactions! * y/n/n is what i use for your nickname btw

Word Count: 3.5k-ish

Bang Chan

Silence. At least for the most part. You clicking the keyboard of your computer, Chan humming slightly as he clicked around on his own, as well as twisting and turning the dials on his audio mixer, connected to said computer. The sounds had sort of blended into the silence though, so neither of you really noticed it at this point.

A click louder than all of the others soon came from Chan's computer, meaning he was going to connect his progress to the speakers of his studio, so he could fully take in the track he was working on. He had played it what seemed like a million times already, but you didn't mind. You were already so phased out that he could be announcing the break up of Stray Kids', and you honestly wouldn't even catch it.

The familiar beat of their upcoming title track boomed through the speakers, and as if on autopilot, you sang along. You had heard the beginning of that very song so many times now, the lyrics were as good as engraved into the inside of your eyelids.

Once the first verse and chorus were over, the song stopped, as did you. It was when the song didn't play again you finally snapped out of your computer-trance. You shifted your eyes from the screen over to your boyfriend who was sitting on the other side of the room.

"Y/n."

You then realized you had been singing along, and probably not as quiet as you had thought. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. I'll keep quiet." You quickly apologized.

You were hanging out with your boyfriend, yes- but he was still at work, and you'd hate to be the reason for him switching out of his creative-mode.

"No! No, no, don't worry. You're just so good? How come I have never heard you sing before?" Chan grinned as he turned his spinny-chair to face you and fell back into it, looking at you with admiration.

You had been sitting on the floor with your back against the seat of the couch, so the coffee table by the mentioned couch had your laptop at shoulder-height, meaning you had to close the screen of your computer to see your boyfriend. Once you had done so, you moved your hands up to your face, covering your cheeks.

"I don't like the attention. I hate it when people look at me like- exactly like you're doing now, stop!" You giggled when Chan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He decided to mess around with you and started staring you down. You laughed and begged him to stop, but the more you did, the more intensely he stared at you- until he eventually cracked, sending you both into fits of laughter.

Lee Know

"First things first rest in peace Uncle Phil."

The music blared from your headphones straight into your head, being the only thing keeping you motivated as you did some housework. Seeing as you were mopping when the J.Cole song started playing, you figured the handle would prove to be the perfect microphone.

"For real, you the only father that I ever knew." You continued, singing and rapping along while shaking your butt and cleaning the floor. Maybe not the world's most efficient cleaning strategy, but my-oh-my did it get the job done.

Due to the loud volume in your headphones, you didn't hear the front door open and shut, as your boyfriend came home for the day.

Minho didn't even get the chance to put down his bag before his attention was completely wrapped around you having a concert in your living-room. He quickly recognized the song and let his head bob along to the beat, even though he could only hear you rapping, and not the song itself. He kicked off his shoes and placed his things on the ground before he slowly made his way into the living-room, doing a little boogie as he did so.

It wasn't until you finally turned around almost a minute later you saw your boyfriend joking around, dancing to your rapping. You instantly dropped the mop and let out a little scream as he startled you, covering your face with your hands once you saw it was just him.

"Minho! What are you doing?" You cried out in embarrassement after removing your headphones. Minho couldn't help but chuckle at you before he came closer and gave you a kiss-hello.

"Y/n, I never knew you had such voice-control! You've never rapped in front of me before, why?" He asked when he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around your waist, but his face a few inches away from yours.

"Because you're an actual rapper in an actual band!! That's like showing Michelangelo your drawing!" You argued back, a massive smile on your face. Minho then continued to shower you in compliments, making you hide your blushing face from him by burying it into his chest.

Changbin

The kitchen had all kinds of different smells as you were stirring the pot of soup you had on the stove in front of you. The kitchen-window was open, letting in a fresh spring breeze, and the radio was playing a familiar song.

"Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is La Vie En Rose." You softly sang along, your body swaying back and forth to the tune. You continued to sing along as you used the wooden-spoon to stir around, making sure it didn't burn.

(bro, i think i fucked up my sOUP)

"Hey, Y/n/n." It suddenly came from the doorway to the kitchen, instantly causing you to stop singing and spin around. "Hi, Binnie." You gave him a smile and then turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut, only for a second- as if you were trying to erase the past ten seconds. You hoped the radio was louder than your voice, but that hope soon came crashing down.

"No, why'd you stop?" He asked as he placed a few sheets of paper on the table and continued over to you. You started smiling like an idiot for a second before you raised your hands to cover your face. Chanbin noticed and chuckled as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. "Don't be shy!"

He then spun you around so you were facing him, but your hands still covered your face. This made Changbin just chuckle even more. He tried to jokingly pry your hands from your face, but you just shoved your head into his shoulder so he wouldn't be able to grab you properly. You either couldn't help but chuckle as you messed around, but quickly stopped once you remembered you were cooking.

You turned around to keep stirring your soup, Changbin never let go of you. "But tell me, why have I never heard you sing before when your voice is THAT good?" He asked, but you ignored him.

"For real?" He tried again, but you pretended he didn't say anything.

"Would you like some soup?" You asked him, turning slightly to look at him. He seemed amused, but he just nodded, accepting your choice of lunch.

Hyunjin

Hot water poured down your back, the whole shower smelling like your body wash. You had just gotten back from a run and decided to clean up a bit before Hyunjin came back from work. So after getting out of your leggings and hoodie, you had grabbed your speaker and headed for the washroom.

Knowing Hyunjin wasn't home, you qued the best of the best from your playlist, getting ready to absolutely shred the imaginary rap battles you were about to have. Banger after banger played as you sang into your microphone. Your mic being an empty shampoo bottle you had yet to throw out.

You were mid-shampoo when Streets by Doja Cat played, and you almost slipped and fell while hurriedly reaching for your microphone.

"Damn, papi, you a rare breed, no comparing." You borderline yelled, as if you had just gotten out of a failed relationship where you still loved your partner, when in fact that wasn't your case at all. You were very much in love with your boyfriend, and you were on great terms- but for the sake of your rap battle, you had to get into it.

"When other chickens tryna get in my coop 'Cause you're a one in a million There ain't no man like you!" Not to toot your own horn or anything, but you could confidently say you absolutely bodied that verse, and you were soon let know you weren't the only one who thought so.

(I don't actually think he is the one to cuss, but this is simply because I cannot think of another way to say it, so for the lack of a better word:) "Fuck it up, baby!" You heard Hyunjin hype you up on the other side of the bathroom door, making your stomach drop for a second.

"You're not supposed to be home yet." You answered him after turning off the speaker, and the shower. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around you, then went to open the door.

"Well, I had to hurry home when I heard the rap God themselves was having a concert in our bathroom." Hyunjin chuckled once you opened the door with almost a shameful face. "Should I talk to JYP about getting you a rap-audition, or..?" He dragged out the last word, kind of he was taunting you, but in the most loving way possible. Feeling your cheeks grow hot, you closed the door back up and locked him out.

"I'm never leaving this bathroom." You announced as you covered your face, even though Hyunjin could no longer see you.

"Y/n/n, I was kidding! You were great though, I might actually talk to JY-" He started again, but you cut him off by groaning, causing the both of you to break out laughing.

Han

Clicking of a pen. Gentle tapping of a foot. Frustrated hair ripping. You had seen these symptoms before- that's right, Jisung was in a slump.

You were at the studio with your boyfriend, and you were both seated in the sitting group, Jisung leaning his elbows on the table, head in his hands, tugging at his hair as if it would activate his creative juices. You had tagged along just to get out of the house, and maybe Jisung needed moral support, and wouldn't you have guessed- that was exactly what he needed.

"You good?" You asked him after he let out the umpteenth sigh in the past hour. He then finally confessed he just couldn't get the ending of the second verse down. "Why don't you sing it, so you can hear what's missing, rather than just reading it?"

He did as you suggested and sang through it. When he came to the part he was talking about, you also heard it. Something about it was just kinda.. off.

You tilted your head to the side as you were thinking of ways to better it, to try and help him. An idea popped into your head, and maybe it could work- after all you were no song writer. You tried your best to explain to Jisung what it was you were thinking, but about half-way through, you could see he was as lost as that one time Chan and Changbin had accidentally left the two of you behind at IKEA.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I don't fully understand what you mean." He confessed, and you nodded, knowing well that was him being sweet about the fact that you sucked at explaining things. So in the spirit of making it easier for him to understand, you just sang it. You sang through the song and added the part you had tried to explain.

"Did that make more sense?" You asked when you were done, looking from the sheet of paper up at your boyfriend, who was sat there, his lips slightly parted as his jaw hung lose. "Jisung? Babe?" You tried to snap him back to reality as it seemed he had zoned out, but only for a moment.

"Wait, that was so good? Since when were you that good?" Jisung suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling and almost bouncing in his seat. He continued to shower you in compliments, making you feel like a turtle trying to get back into its shell.

"Stop. If you ever mention me singing again, I will throw myself out the window." You said, both humor in your tone, and being dead serious at the same time.

"Okay, dramatic much?" Jisung joked back, making you shove his shoulder as you chuckled alongside him.

Felix

A car zoomed past you as you walked on the pavement on the side of the road, admiring the spring at its full bloom. You were almost a bit disappointed when you reached your home as you wanted to continue to look at the flowers, but that thought soon fell right out of your head. As you walked up the staircase to your apartment, you heard a constant noise grow louder and louder. You were about to turn the key when you realized the noise was more rhythmic than you originally thought, and that the music was coming from inside your apartment.

Curiosity completely consumed your body when you finally opened the door, and was met with a wall of noise. You took a few steps in and shut the door behind you, protecting the outside world from the sight you had in front of you.

Felix was using a hairbrush as he jumped around both on the floor and in the couch, crying out the lyrics to a song you didn't quite recognize. You laughed at your boyfriend as you kicked off your shoes and hung your coat in the closet.

Felix finally spotted you and quickly pulled out his phone that was connected to the speakers, and changed the song. The familiar intro of your favorite song soon played, and it didn't take as much as a second before you were as hyped as Felix were. You began jumping around and dancing with him, matching his energy.

Felix screamed the lyrics into the hairbrush before he swiftly tossed you the brush, letting you pop off as well. You rapped the words perfectly into the brush, standing on the couch as your concert evolved.

The song eventually came to an end, causing the both of you to fall breathlessly to the ground, heaving for air- massive smiles on your faces. The ground was cool against your now sweaty backs. A few seconds passed before Felix spoke.

"I don't think I have ever heard you rap before." He admitted. You kept staring at the ceiling, ignoring the boy at your side for a few seconds before you decided to answer him.

"And you will never hear it again."

Both you and Felix could back the claim that he had never moved as fast as he did when you said that. He had jumped up so he was on his elbows, facing you with wide eyes.

"No!! Please! You were so good!" He cried out, making you laugh at him. You just gave him a wink before you got to your feet and went to get the groceries you had left in the hallway.

Seungmin

"How about we go in there? Maybe I can find you a shirt?" You spoke after pointing to a store.

You were currently out shopping with your boyfriend, Seungmin. He had asked you to get him an outfit, not for any special occasion of anything, just for shits and giggles. It was your favorite type of dates, the ones where you don't really plan anything, you just end up doing fun and silly things.

Seungmin nodded and you soon dragged him into the store. The layout of the shop was like any other, so you soon made your way to the back where the mens clothing was.

As you were casually roaming the racks of clothes, the speakers soon started playing one of your favorite songs, making it impossible for you to not hum along. You kept looking at the different items of clothing on your left, Seungmin behind you, looking through the clothes on your right hand side.

Soon, the song picked up, you quietly jamming along, allowing yourself to softly sing along as there were no other customers near you.

Your hand suddenly slid over a material that caught your attention. It was a green oversized tee, with some colorful and funky letters on the front. You cut yourself off to turn around and show Seungmin the shirt, asking him what he thought about the item.

You held it up, but no reply. "Seungmin?" You tried again. It was odd seeing as he was looking at you with a slight smile, yet he was not replying to your question. You then lowered the shirt and waved your hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You okay?" You asked him once he gently shook his head to re-focus his eyes. He nodded gleefully.

"Sorry, your voice was just so good that I completely forgot where we were." He admitted, giving you a look. You pursed your lips and spun on your heel, so he wouldn't see your burning cheeks.

I.N

Date night! You and boyfriend Jeongin had just been at a local restaurant for a cute night out. Nothing overly fancy, just a chance to enjoy each others company, since you both had been busy lately.

After you had paid your bill, the two of you went for a walk to enjoy the warm, evening air. With nowhere in mind, you just casually wandered down the street, your hands intertwined as you swung them back and forth, pulling and pushing at each other in a joking manner.

"Woah, when did this get here?" Jeongin suddenly asked as you passed a building with a bright neon sign hanging out front. You looked to your side to see what it was he was talking about.

Karaoke, the neon sign read. You turned back to your boyfriend and gave him a smug smile, hoping he was thinking the same as you. He returned the smile and suddenly you were being shown to a private room by the hostess.

The first few songs were just the two of you messing around, screaming ABBA into your respective microphones. At one point while picking the next song, Jeongin saw a song he really wanted to do, but as you didn't know the lyrics, you decided to sit this one out.

He belted his heart out to the tune you found unfamiliar, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Jeongin was after all a singer in a world-renowned band- boy had talent.

The song came to an end, resulting in you giving him a standing ovation as he playfully bowed repeatedly.

"I'm your biggest fan!" You raised your hands to your mouth and pretended to be yelling it at the 'stage', like he just held a concert for thousands. You both laughed at yourselves before Jeongin announced it would be his turn to sit one out. You took that as you cue to get up from the couch and pick a song.

You were no singer, never was- never will be, at least not in public. So when you had to pick a song, you didn't care if it didn't 'fit your range', or 'suit your voice'. You picked a song you liked and ran with it.

The melody started, and you raised your mic to your lips, singing the words that were showing on the large screen in front of you. You found it wasn't as fun to sing without your boyfriend, but got through the song anyways.

As most things do, the song came to and end. You placed the mic on the table and turned around to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Mid turn, you saw your boyfriend like you never had before. His eyes were wide and his jaw was lose.

"What?" You asked him, uncapping the water bottle and taking a swig.

"Where did that come from?" He asked, eyes still wide as dinner-plates. You raised your eyebrow in a questioning manner, as if you were asking him to elaborate. "You're an amazing singer! How have I never heard that before?"

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and your eyes instantly found the ground, suddenly too shy to look at Jeongin. He chuckled at your reaction, and leaned forward so he could reach your hand from where he was sitting. He then pulled you back so you fell to the couch, crossing your arms over your chest, your shoulders up to your ears by now.

"We have to do this more often so I can hear you sing more!" He stated as he poked your arm, trying to get you to be less shy- and somehow it worked.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-bentley

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youranxiousnerd · 3 years

Text

The Transformation Thoughts

bc hsmtmts said gay rights

spoilers below

yesss seb doing the recap

wait did seb just say he was crying?!?! give him a hug

cow baby!!!

wow miss jenn and seb having a civil conversation

Natalie is back!!

ej and ricky with the mask

kourtney’s outfit!!!

ashlyn’s outfit...

ahh so the awards and the show are separate, good, that’s how it works

RICKY’S SHIRT!?!?!?!

i love it

ricky is lgbt do not try to convince me otherwise

ASHLYN IS SINGING IT IS BEAUTIFUL

like pop off

ricky and the mask

that mask is the true villain in season 2

“Belle, I-” flops

Ashlyn is carrying the scene, she is such a good Belle

how is ricky allowed on stage oh my god

the cap

that damn mask

“It’s okay, it was just my face”

Miss Jenn is hanging on by a thread

finally some ashlyn and ricky content

“Which they will” buddy have you faced the music? Have you seen Ricky?

“I think I might have been playing Troy at one point”

Miss Jenn needs help from someone who isn’t a teenager

“Mother is freaking out” High school theater at it’s finest

“There is math involved”

“OH”

sassy seb

i can’t with east high’s tech crew, what are you doing?!?!

and why are the actors figuring out the tech stuff?!? i’m sure kourt, big red, ashlyn (she knows all), and seb (he lives on a farm) know what to do.

the crew cannot be that bad

btw here are my thoughts on this scene

guys it is ashlyn’s house not yours

portwell shoulder bump

ASHLYN I LOVE YOU

OH SO NOW YOU HAVE DRILLS

WHERE WERE THEY WHEN THE TECHIES STARTED USING GLUE ON PLYWOOD!?!?!?!

I WANT ANSWERS

i. cannot. with. this. show.

lily wtf

“is this too weird” yes

like why?

lily like actually shut up

big red’s “wtf”

let her be evil damnit

“i’m just not well liked here” i wonder why

that was really weird, anyways

“he gets weird around tools”

me too

no give big red the drill he knows how to use it

someone write a fic about the girls and seb’s chaotic target run

why don’t you have a blackout and dramatic music and lights for the transformation, i know it isn’t award level but if done right it can be pretty dope

“I don’t know if my parents will be okay with me being at a co-ed sleepover”

“Chip, this is your mother speaking, go call your mother”

HE DID THE FINGER GUNS

GAY TABLE SIT AND FINGER GUNS THEY DID THEIR RESEARCH

ashlyn’s bucket

CARLOS GAY TABLE SIT

OH MY GOD

they’re so gay soulmates

let big red have his skateboards

“i need to talk to seb at some point but it can wait” honey no it can’t wait seb is on the verge of a breakdown

wait they havent talked in a week

Im a hypocrite ive been dancing around someone for three years

“You’re still at school”

“I’m worried about my children” “She means us”

such a high school theater thing (like i got married during high school theater, we had a family tree)

“ah, Sebby”

“Now I’m pretty sad” give him a hug

the girls ship seblos

“But, I guess he has to be, out of default, right... there’s not a lot of choices for a boy like Carlos, here, at East.”

alright here come the tears

why...why couldn’t he say “gay” or “queer” or “lgbt”?!?!

“Not so good at saying the feelings part out loud”

shiz that hit close to home.

Seb is just making me cry today, isn’t he?

wait so we’re just going to change the subject? coming from a queer person, opening up about your problems about your sexuality is hard. like, there are things that happened years ago im just telling people.

“You’re my sister, he’s my cousin”

it seems everyone except nina knows about the chocolates. imagine gossip time when gina told people write a fic

Nini just stop talking. It wasn’t a big deal, simple mistake. Not everything has to be big and dramatic

and wasn’t she just asking about Gina and Ej?

Nini for the love of god it is not something to read into.

“The farmer type”

Ash and Red exchanging gossip

wait... why are they texting about this?

“Why wouldn’t he say something to me?” It’s a hard conversation to have. “hey are we together just because i’m your only option?”

“Okay, pretty boy” HE CALLED HIM PRETTY BOY

RICKY!!!!!!!!!!

!!!

carlos and gina chaotic siblings

give ej a hug

“Sweet boy”

im so glad the guys are talking about their feelings.

Why a sleepover? It’s more of a hangout.

“Verging on failure”

jennzara therapy

slowwww burn

you go from hand holding to fist bump

disney please release an acoustic version of “let you go”

so it’s just carlos and ricky chillin’ at big red’s house?

do not play let you go for nini

do. not.

“You guys are a hallmark movie”

for once ricky is being smart

“the look on your face when you were talking about Seb tonight” smiles

he is so whipped

“I think you and Seb have something worth fighting for...bro”

that was so sweet and then there is bro

i love this show

“Sorry, I’m adjusting to being called bro”

him and seb being awkward about feelings... that is a high school relationship

i love ricky in this scene

“Yeah, let’s just write”

ASHLYN CALLED BIG RED BABE AWWWWW

nina shut the actual hell up

“It’s in the costume shop, somewhere” mood

“Thank you, 15″ THEY SAID THE THING

GAHHHH

I LOVE IT

howie and kourtney oh my god what is happening

“and begging”

“hi” he’s so nervous oh my lord.

he is so awkward around seb

it’s like a switch

“Do you want to get risotto with me sometime” OH MY GOD THATS ADORABLE

GINA BABY HE LIKES YOU

GINA HONEY!!!

AWWW THAT WAS ADORABLE

PORTWELL YESSSS

gina’s little run

“Am I in trouble?”

they’re so nervous

oh my god its time

“You keep it all bottled up” GUYS I CANT ARGGGG

can ricky just like, go behind a curtain?

“lookin’ for our kind of love” carlos basically just said “i love you”

seb is so whipped like look at him?

they’re so in love

seb’s little eye role at “in a heartbeat, i choose you”

the hands omfg

oh my god they’re going to dance

SHIZ THE HOMECOMING SUITS

I WAS RIGHT

OH MY GOD

SHIT GUYS IM DYING

gah the hands i cant

carlos is leading i love it

the tie

a tie just killed me

im combusting

You’re honor, they’re in love

i really thought carlos was going in for a kiss he is probably getting one later

i like how the dance isn’t big, it’s small and a little awkward bc right then it’s just them.

THEYRE SO IN LOVE HOLY SHIT

damnit big red

big red is legally required to interrupt almost kiss moments especially if it’s an lgbt kiss bc we cant have two in one season

in a heartbeat is so cute. Frankie showed UP this season with the vocals. there is no way that was all acting bc they looked so in love.

I...I love it

the lyrics are perfect

In a Heartbeat and Let You Go are probably the best OG songs of the season

“Siri, add In a Heartbeat to my gay sob playlist”

these boys are just serenading each other left and right

“Yeah”

so it’s just “yeah”!?!? That’s it!?!?! Seb could have least kissed him on the cheek or did they use all their kisses?

I love the song and love the scene, but there is so much more to discuss. Are we going to brush over the fact that Seb literally had an allergic reaction and didn’t get help because he didn’t want to disappoint Carlos!?!? Are we going to brush over “no, seb” and seb feeling like he has to get carlos big things!?! One “yeah” doesn’t erase all that. I’m hoping we get closure, proper closure, not a joke.

In conclusion, only one thing was settled (Carlos loves Seb for Seb, not because he is the only out guy in school).

“Seb and Carlos suffer their first fight” effing liars

BTW it looks like they filmed the dance scene with the homecoming suits and normal outfits so disney release the footage

Ricky is the biggest Seblos shipper

“Bro”

you morons. are you using rigging without an adult there?!?!

im pretty sure that isn’t allowed. only trained people were allowed to use the rigging. it should be Natalie since she did it in HSM

you should have gotten mats are something or stand in a circle

gahhh

RICKY

OH MY FRICKING GOD

NO ONE RAN THEY JUST WATCHED WTF

WTF WAS THAT ENDING

UMMMMM NO

i legit have no words oh my god

they just killed the lead

you guys saw the rope you should have ran

you should have gotten mats or blankets or something just in case

rigging is difficult, set rigging and people rigging

EAST HIGH WTF

Looks like the sleepover is going to be in the ER

My gay heart is full but my theater heart is screaming. The episode went by really fast. I liked it, like a lot.

To answer the question, no, I am not okay @organic-guacamole and we will have a theater kid sleepover

68 notes · View notes

smaidjor · 3 years

Text

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 3)

Hey everyone and welcome to the third and likely final chapter of this saga! When I was writing this, I told my friends it might end up the shortest chapter.

Spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, the shortest chapter.

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me through this insane journey of angst writing! The story doesn't end here, but the fic does because I think I'm going to be switching how I write it a little bit. You'll see if I ever get the energy to write the continuation.

(Also, I've stopped putting AO3 links in the actual post because then it doesn't show up in the tag.)

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Title: to turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 4686

Content warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood, mild injury, religion, self-esteem issues. There is also something that could be considered similar to deadnaming, though the character is not necessarily trans, so read with caution if that could be triggering to you.

Actual fic under the cut:

That night, Scott dreams he’s a child again, playing amongst the peaks with Xornoth by his side. They laugh as they dart out of his reach, and he jumps over a rock to try and catch them.

“Too slow,” Xornoth snickers, and Scott glares at them.

“Someday I’ll be ten times as fast as you, and stronger too!”

They laugh again and tackle him into the grass, forceful enough to push him down but not enough to really hurt. “Alright, little bro.”

“You’re only older by seven minutes!”

“Seven minutes, more like seven times cooler than you!”

Scott reaches up and tickles them, grinning wickedly as they yelp and roll off him.

The scene shifts, and this time it’s a teenaged Xornoth laying on the hill beside him, staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything ever happens to me-”

“It won’t,” Scott interrupts, heart in his throat. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It could-”

“No.”

They sigh. “Alright. But if it ever does, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to promise that you’ll take care of Rivendell.”

Scott glares at them. “Rivendell hates me. Don’t ask-”

“Please. Scott, please just promise me this one thing.” Their face is deathly serious. “I don’t- nothing’s going to happen to me, but I need to know that Rivendell will be safe if anything does.”

"But-"

"Please, Scott. I know you would do brilliant at it, and I need the guarantee.

He sighs but ultimately gives in. “I wouldn't, but fine. I promise.”

Xornoth nods, seemingly satisfied. “You’re leaving tonight, right?”

“I am.”

“Then take this.” They roll over and press something into his hand. “You’ll need it.”

Scott looks down to see Vilya, the silver band gleaming in the sunlight. “Xor, you can’t give me this. This is-”

“I know perfectly well what it is, little bro.” He looks up to find them smiling sadly. “And I know you’ll need it. Now better wake up, your husband’s calling.”

“My wha-”

Scott’s plunged back into awareness to the sound of Jimmy calling his name.

“Scott? Please?” He sounds shaken, but it barely registers in Scott’s sleepy brain.

Scott rolls over and blinks his eyes open to see Jimmy watching him with concern. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy says, urgent. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That wakes Scott up, alright, the fear in his husband’s voice sending a spike of worry through him as he sits up. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” He trusts Jimmy more than anything else, really, which is why he gets up and out of bed. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you,” Scott teases.

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott can’t help but laugh at how offended his husband sounds, but his mirth dies as quickly as it came. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.” It’s making the hairs on his arm stand up, a prickling unease similar to what he felt before the battle where Jimmy died.

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott grabs his favorite axe, glancing back at Jimmy one more time. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

He swings the door open. It takes a moment to spot what’s wrong, but once he does, his heart plummets; Xornoth is standing across the valley next to his enchanting tower, their face and body twisted with corruption but still unmistakably Scott’s sibling.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses. He sounds terrified, and Scott can’t blame him, much as it feels like a punch to the gut to know that his sibling is the one who’s been harassing his husband.

Scott grits his teeth. Protect Rivendell, that’s what he promised Xornoth all those years ago. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s response comes a second later. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.” The pure faith in the words is enough to make Scott’s throat close up for a moment, choked with sudden emotion at the level of trust Jimmy’s showing him even after everything that happened.

He shoves that feeling down. “Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.” Scott’s nearly begging, voice cracking a bit on the last word. Jimmy must hear how weak he sounds, because he gives in without question, handing over Vilya.

Scott slides it onto his finger, hands trembling just a bit as he does. He remembers being given this ring, being just as terrified by how much Xornoth trusted him then as he is by how much Jimmy trusts him now. Ironic, really, that now he’ll be using this ring against the person who gave it to him to begin with. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.” He keeps the instructions quick and clear, praying that Jimmy’s not stubborn enough to disobey. He can’t lose Jimmy, he can’t.

Thank god, Jimmy nods.

Scott takes another deep breath, brain awhirl as he tries to figure out how he’s going to keep both Jimmy and Rivendell safe. “From there, I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger.” After a moment's thought, he adds “I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.” Gilnar’s trustworthy, they’ll look after Jimmy.

“What about you?” Jimmy asks. “Will you be okay?”

His heart aches at the concern, and it aches more when he opens his mouth to lie. “I will, I promise.” He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eyes, knowing he’ll break if he does.

Thankfully, Jimmy says nothing about it, instead reaching for one of the spare swords. Good, good, he can protect himself.

“Ready?” Scott asks.

“Ready,” Jimmy confirms, though his voice trembles.

Scott shoves down the part of him that screams that this wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility, that he should just run while he can. He made a promise to his sibling all those years ago, and he’s going to keep it even if it’s now them that he has to defend Rivendell from.

He steps out the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jimmy bolt for the stables, but the greater part of his attention is focused on Xornoth, still floating ominously across the valley.

“You do not belong here,” Scott calls out in Sindarin. It’s a challenge more than anything, practically asking them to come fight him.

He knows he’s messing with forces he doesn’t understand and cannot win against, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Xornoth has always been faster and stronger, after all, ever since they were children.

And yet-

And yet he has to try regardless. After all, when they were children, Scott always tried to win anyways, even if it never worked. And now, the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders and his husband somewhere in the village behind him, the stakes are higher than just his pride. So he squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down as Xornoth appears in front of him with a ripple of smoke, a cruel smirk on their face.

“Well, well, well, dear brother. Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Scott retorts.

They grin again. “I belong here just as much as you, you know.”

He raises his axe, gritting his teeth. “You did once, but not anymore.”

Xornoth laughs as they dart out of the way of his blows, tendrils of corruption curling around them and reaching for him. “I belong here more than you ever will.”

He stumbles back, trying to get out of their reach. “That’s not true either.”

“Oh, but it is. I thought you’d be too much of a coward to ever face me, you know. Spineless little Scott, running away from his problems like you ran away from our family.”

“We had no family left! It was just you and me!”

“And you left me to be consumed by my own greed and despair. The sibling you know died years ago and it’s all because you’re a coward.”

Scott flinches, barely bringing his axe up in time to block their next strike. “That’s not- that wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for that to happen."

“Do you really think that? Are you really foolish enough to think that you didn’t hurt me by leaving?” Xornoth’s grin is razor-sharp.

“You told me to leave if it would make me happier,” Scott cries, lapsing back into English without thinking about it.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place. No real elven ruler would want to leave the oldest sanctuary of the elves.”

They have him backing up again and again, barely holding them off. “I tried- I was-”

“Look at you, an elf speaking a human language,” Xornoth hisses. “How did you ever think you were going to be good enough for them? You’re never going to be the real king of Rivendell, Elinar.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Scott pants.

“Elinar,” they taunt again. “Stupid, stupid Elinar. Weak, pathetic little Elinar.”

Scott stumbles backward, landing on his butt in the grass as Xornoth towers over him. His axe falls to the side, snatched by a tendril of corruption as they reach out, digging their claws into his shoulders and pushing him down. Scott’s helpless to do anything when those same tendrils reach for him, the smell of rot permeating the air. They hesitate for a moment, hovering above him, and then Xornoth grins sadistically and the corruption snatches him.

It hurts. It hurts more than any pain he’s ever felt. More than Etho’s arrow in his throat, more than Martyn’s arrow to the chest, more than Ren’s sword through his back. More than even waking up back in Rivendell. The corruption wraps itself around his throat and wrists, pinning him to the ground as his older sibling grins. Scott distantly registers that he’s screaming, writhing as he tries to get out of their hold, but everything’s fuzzy with his brain clouded by pain. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Anything but this.

There’s a faint, familiar voice in the distance, though Scott can’t focus on what it’s saying through the haze of pain. It sounds comforting, though, and he clings to the noise like a lifeline.

All of the sudden, the pain stops and the corruption draws back slightly as Xornoth turns away.

“What did you say to me?” they hiss, in English this time.

“I said you’re ugly!” The same voice calls, and this time Scott recognizes it as Jimmy. Oh, god, Jimmy. “And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

Xornoth loosens their hold on Scott’s shoulders, turning towards wherever Jimmy is, and Scott’s gets a rush of determination. He can’t let them hurt Jimmy.

Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free of their hold with strength he didn’t know he still had. They give a tiny yelp of surprise, a familiar sound, and he staggers to his feet.

This time, he doesn’t bother with the axe. Instead, he forces his will into Vilya, praying to any and every god that it will work for him. He doesn’t even believe in the elven gods any longer, and yet he’s still praying to Aeor, to Varda, to Manwe, to any deity out there that he’s enough of a true elvenking to make a ring of power bend to his will.

“You are not welcome here!” Scott shouts, and he feels the ancient strength of Vilya behind his words.

Xornoth hisses, staggering backwards. “Fine! Banish me, then, if you’re a true enough king to do it. Run back to your mortal lover, Elinar, and pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are.”

He doesn’t flinch, though it’s a close thing. “Leave! Leave and never return!”

This time, Vilya pulses more strongly, and Xornoth is forced out of Rivendell with a hum of power.

Scott stumbles as that rush of power leaves him, collapsing to the ground. His entire body aches from the fight, but more than that, Xornoth’s last words are still ringing in his mind. Pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are. They’re right. He knows they’re right, and that’s the worst part about it.

“Scott! Scott!” He can hear Jimmy call, and within a minute, Jimmy’s standing in front of him.

Scott looks up at his husband- his beautiful, brave husband who he’s never once deserved- his breathing ragged as he tries to reach out. “Jimmy,” He manages, a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy kneels by him, concern written across his face clear as day. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” Scott grabs him and yanks him into a hug, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, quiet, dumbstruck. He hugs Scott oh-so-gently, though his embrace isn’t enough to soothe Scott’s trembling. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps. He needs his husband, needs him to be okay. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over.” It sounds so childish, but he’s so tired. “I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott wants to shout it, scream it to the world, because it’s not fair. He wasn’t supposed to be heir to Rivendell. He wasn’t supposed to have a ring of power. He wasn’t supposed to be forced to fight his own sibling. It’s not fair, but it happened anyways. It happened anyways, and that’s what breaks him, voice cracking as he begs for something, though he doesn’t even know what he wants at this point. Peace, maybe. Happiness. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy .”

He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, searching for any small scrap of comfort as his sobs tear him to pieces, clutched in his husband’s arms on the grass. Jimmy’s so gentle with him, his embrace so kind as he presses soft kisses to Scott’s head and murmurs in a comforting tone, though Scott’s too far lost in his own head to hear any of what Jimmy says. His world narrows to warm arms around him, the texture of Jimmy’s shirt clutched between his fingers. Jimmy smells like dirt and swamp water- it’s the silliest thing to notice when Scott’s busy sobbing over having to fight his own sibling, but it’s easier to think about than anything else. It’s easier to think about Jimmy than anything else, really, easier to cling to the sound of his voice and his hand on Scott’s back than confront the way Scott’s grief is eating him alive.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approaching. They’re too light to be anything but elven, not that that’s a surprise when they’re in the home of the elves. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and face them, not when his breath is still coming quick and ragged.

Gilnar’s first to speak, hesitant concen leaking into their words. “Uh, milord?”

Scott can feel Jimmy’s grip tighten protectively, can practically imagine his affronted look as he opens his mouth to snap back. “Give him a goddamn minute! He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!” He winces a little, knowing the elves are going to tear Jimmy to shreds for that.

Indeed, one of his advisors speaks up, disdain clear in their tone. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

It’s ever the way of elven royalty- their rulers cannot dare be flawed.

“He’s too young for this,” Someone else mutters. There’s as much pity in their tone as there is disdain, a strange mix of concern and derision.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one!” Jimmy’s voice rises with every sentence. Scott wants to tell him to spare the outrage- he’s not worth it. “Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” his advisor sniffs, and Scott’s blood boils at how rude they’re being to Jimmy.

It’s that outrage that gives him the energy to raise his head, forcing his breathing to steady out. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.” You shouldn’t be defending me, he doesn’t say. I’m not worth your outrage.

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues back.

Scott almost laughs, knowing full well that they can and should. Instead, though, he breaks free of Jimmy’s embrace and gets to his feet with far more effort than that should really take. “Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has.” His voice comes out hoarse, and he’s barely aware of what he’s saying, but he forces himself to carry on. “Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, the quickest excuse he can think of. He grabs Jimmy’s hand, dragging him away as quickly as he can manage, and ignores the stares that follow him.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott’s legs give out, sending him into a chair with an undignified thump. “Well, fuck me to the End and back.”

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy sounds more concerned than anything.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.” That’s just how it is- he doesn’t bother getting upset over it at this point. He’s always going to be second-best.

“Oh.” Jimmy hesitates, and then asks “Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of Jimmy’s reaction, but he has nothing left to lose, so he laughs bitterly and answers honestly. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

“What?”

“My twin. My older sibling.” He gives another little laugh. “The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.” Who was better than Scott in every way.

“What?” Jimmy sounds shocked and confused, but not angry, not yet, so Scott elaborates.

“Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.” Old legend says that elven twins are only born in times of great conflict, and Scott can’t exactly say it's wrong.

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott spits the word a bit like a curse, not because he hates humans, but because he hates himself and all the ways he’s too much like them. He closes his eyes against a fresh set of tears, blinking away the memory of Xornoth’s face when he left Rivendell. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently. It’s such a Jimmy way to react to something so serious, Scott might laugh if the mood were lighter.

“When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically.” Scott taps the ring that’s still resting on his middle finger, feeling it hum in return. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott feels Jimmy take his hand, and looks up to see gentle concern written across his husband’s face. He has to blink again, turning away and forcing his voice to stay steady. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests. He sounds so very sincere about it, which makes it all the more heartbreaking how utterly wrong he is.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, letting a little of his fondness show. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something like confusion flashes across Jimmy’s face, and then he opens his mouth again. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

Scott looks away again, his cheeks heating up. “….Maybe.”

“Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?” JImmy’s half-laughing, but the sentiment behind the words sounds real. Too real, Scott thinks; it’s as if Jimmy doesn’t know just how incredible he truly is.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life,” Scott tells him, and he means every word. “I gave you everything I could offer.”

It’s kind of adorable how quickly Jimmy flushes, his face going red and his voice rising an octave. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks- perfectly innocently, mind you.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean!” He definitely doesn’t. “That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!” Jimmy adds, and Scott grins a little. Jimmy’s just too fun to fluster.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denies, though he’s sure his smile is giving him away as less innocent than he claims.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” Scott barely restrains a yawn from slipping into his voice, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face so it’ll stop getting in his eyes.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers. Scott’s too tired to protest his fussing, letting Jimmy dab at the cut with a wet rag and bandage it. Jimmy moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. It’s sweet, really, how fussed he is over even the smallest injury. Scott doesn’t think he deserves Jimmy taking care of him this gently, but he can’t bring himself to push him away.

Even if it is a bit annoying that Jimmy’s making him do math to check if he has a concussion. “Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy,” Scott huffs, “Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy.” Scott must sound like a whiny child, but he’s tired.

“Just a bit more? For me?” Jimmy asks. And oh, that bastard, he’s giving Scott the face that Scott can’t ever say no to. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Scott won’t give in, he won’t.

That determination lasts all of ten seconds before Scott sighs and gives in. “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to whine about

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy’s laughter is worth every second of the math, actually, Scott decides as his husband bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott tells him. He’s trying to sound affronted, but it just comes out fond, much to his exasperation.

Jimmy laughs again and sets about making pancake batter, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to steal bits of even when Jimmy scolds him for it. It’s peaceful, being able to lean back in his chair and laugh when his husband tries to scold him for flirting. The morning light streams in through his window, casting the side of Jimmy’s face in a golden glow, He looks so alive silhouetted like that, a grin splitting his face and bits of flour in his hair. Scott’s breath catches for a minute just looking at him, the familiar ache in his chest returning, though there’s nothing truly tragic about the scene before him.

He shakes that off when Jimmy offers him the first pancake, shoving thoughts of the future aside. For now, he’ll drink hot chocolate in a sunlit kitchen and pretend his hands don’t tremble just enough to nearly spill it. He’s not going to think about the cuts and bruises scattered across his body, not when Jimmy is looking at him like that, with such utter adoration that Scott can barely believe his luck. How did he get a husband so sweet and warm when he’s as bitterly cold as a Rivendell winter? But whether he deserves it or not, Jimmy’s right there laughing along with him, and Scott can’t find it in himself to be unhappy about it.

This won’t last, he thinks as he watches Jimmy try to fit an entire pancake in his mouth just to see if he can. If Jimmy doesn’t die to his own idiocy or the cruel will of Xornoth, time will take him from Scott as surely as the stars shine above Rivendell. Scott is not Luthien or Idril or Arwen, the elven royals lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity with their mortal husbands; Jimmy will die, likely sooner rather than later, and Scott will be alone with the cold weight of a crown to bear and no sunshine to warm him.

This won’t last, but Scott says nothing of it, sipping his hot chocolate and smiling a little sadly into the mug as Jimmy rambles about different types of fish and their personalities. And if his hands are still cold, and he can’t stop a small shiver? Well, Rivendell has always been a cold empire, hasn’t it?

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #elf ocs #empires smp #flower husbands

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gebtoons · 3 years

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my contribution to the bapo timeline discourse bc i’m just gonna propose a timeline and will not be taking criticism <3 (under the cut bc this is gonna be a long post probably)

ok disclaimer I am quite stupid, however I’m gonna use my knowledge from my own 12 years in american public high school and what little info I have about american boarding schools/catholic schools that I have from my friends lol. so. idk.

i’m also gonna date songs/major events and i’m gonna be taking some “just trust me bro” liberties bc y’all are right it does NOT make that much sense.

January 6: Epiphany; this is like an actual holiday lol. like its always on the sixth. idk its good that this is the starting point bc its an actual date yknow? For the purposes of this timeline were going with that its early in the week, so lets go with Monday idk

January 6-13: You and I, Role of a Lifetime; so we’re all kinda in agreement that this timeline (at least the beginning) only really makes sense if you and i/role of a lifetime aren’t like. a singular moment and are instead multiple days. so yeah, of this first week, this is like. monday-next sunday ish yknow.

January 14: Auditions, Plain Jane Fatass; ok so having auditions for a spring musical right after kids get back from break actually makes perfect sense to me, like i can see it being like “ok take break to prepare so as soon as you come back we can have auditions so we can jump right into rehersals” yknow? and since the rave is clearly on a friday (”we’ll meet in tanya’s room on friday night”) so i’m going with the monday before.

as for pjf, i know it doesn’t make a ton of sense for them to get a two week late birthday package their first few weeks back from school, but hear me out it makes sense. the implication throughout this entire show is that the twins have decently shitty parents. from bits of dialogue (in this song in particular lol) i’m kinda inferring their the “only concerned with how their kids make them look to others” kind of neglectful. so I don’t think it’s too outside the realm of possibility that they went away for the holidays, didn’t bring the twins, and instead mailed them a birthday package and having it show up two weeks late. realistically the timing of this isnt that important and the explicit “two week” time frame could’ve been an exaggeration on nadia’s part to mock her shit parents (idk its in her character) basically ppl are a little two fixated on this imo but anyway. moving on.

January 18: Wonderland, A Quiet Night At Home, Rolling, Best Kept Secret; a very agreed upon point in the timeline. its the friday following the auditions. moving on.

January 21: Confession; also very agreed upon. the monday following the rave. moving on again

January 23: Portrait of a Girl; the date here is kinda arbitrary, but bc sister chantelle says “ok lets try to put yesterday’s rehearsal behind us” and i for the life of me cannot think of a scene she could be referring to (there’s none in the script either) that implies it wasn’t the same monday as confession (bc even in a boarding school i think holding extracurriculars that aren’t sports over the weekend (especially when they are no where near crunch time lol) is weird and not common) so i just picked a random day during the week

January 25: Birthday Bitch!, One Kiss, Are You There?; from matt’s line in wonderland, ivy’s birthday is a week after the rave. in my timeline that’s january 25th (an aquarius queen).

btw given all grown up’s “17, how will i manage?” ivy is 16 during 17 at her party, which is strange given shes a high school senior and seniors are typically 17 during 18. so either a) she skipped a grade, not an unheard of thing. or b) shes not a senior, shes just a junior who hangs out with a bunch of seniors, which is also pretty common. and looking through the script i can’t find any mention that she is also a senior, other than yknow she graduates with them, but she isn’t mentioned during the class ranking scene? so idk not that it really matters just a fun detail

February 3 (at night): 911 Emergency!; ok controversial. i know i like the joke about how its funny that peter having a weird dream when he was high prompted him to want to come out and really ruined his relationship with jason. BUT. i think the dream (despite it’s weirdness) would have a lot more meaning if it wasn’t the result of being really high, but if it was a dream he had like a week later as a result of a building sense of guilt/anxiety bc he told matt. also it fits better given later timeline things. (this timeline literally only exists if there are weird jumps in time that don’t make a ton of sense) (EDIT: I forgot one line about Jason crashing at ivys but fuck it forget that bitchass line this makes for more drama its staying this way)

February 4: Reputation Stain’d, Ever After; the next day following peter’s dream, idk what else to say, moving on.

February 25-28: Spring; another jump! i’m sorry but the only way for this to make sense logistically is for there to be quite a few time jumps! however, i also think this one works bc i think it gives time for everything from around ivy’s party and peter and jason’s break up to stew emotionally. like obviously a musical only has so much time to tell a story so the audience cannot see every realistic beat, but honestly i think it makes the whole thing a little more dramatic™ if there’s space for everything to settle, and for ivy to come and apologize and such. also, the reason it’s multiple days is bc in the script, ivy is trying to study (presumably for some sort of midterm) while nadia is playing, so that probably takes place a few days before they move out, so before finals. but in the script, jason and peter are packing and peter is leaving, so that part of the song/staging takes place on the 28th. yes, that’s weird, but we are clearly thinking more about the logistics of this school than the writers were so.

March 1: One; assuming st. cecilia’s works kinda like boarding schools here, they probably do staggered move out/move in, just bc that would be a lot to have people coming and going at once so it makes sense that peter left the day before, while jason and ivy are leaving the next day. also, given that peter is trying to call jason while he and ivy are banging, it’s probably been a hot minute since the actual break up, since peter was clearly very hurt by the whole thing, it would make sense (at least to me) that peter would reach out a month ish later, rather than like a few days later (you have to make so many assumptions to make this timeline work granted they aren’t super out there assumptions but still this is annoying)

March 1-25: Spring Break. the coworkers I have who are in boarding school work over their school breaks, which are longer than the public school breaks (which are only a week) so i put their spring break at 3 weeks. it makes sense, and it makes the later part of the timeline make sense.

I know i’m already halfway through this, but to me it makes sense for their to be quite a few time jumps in the story bc its a musical. they cannot show every day. there are a lot of other shows (particularly shows set in high schools) that are set over a whole school year, but if you just look at the events of the story that doesn’t make sense, so you have to imply that obviously they are not showing every little detail. moving on.

March 25: Wedding Bells, In The Hallway, Touch My Soul; peter wakes up from his nightmare in the church, so im assuming he fell asleep in church (like he almost did during epiphany). also it makes sense that class ranks are announced in late march-early april, I know my school announced ours in like, the first week or so of april? so yeah. moving on.

(from this point on i was giving myself a headache trying to make it make sense so its all weird from here!!)

April 4: See Me, Warning; the date doesn’t really matter here, I picked a random day in early april. the script said peter is calling from him and jason’s old dorm room, as he was picking up the last of his things, so he clearly made the roommate switch after school started (makes sense to me).

April 15-20 (approximately): Ivy finds out she’s pregnant. look google tells me on average people find out they are pregnant around 5-7 weeks after conception. i went with around 7 just so this timeline makes a tiny bit more sense given the later stuff, so yeah here we go.

May 4: Pilgrim’s Hands, God Don’t Make No Trash, All Grown Up, Promise, Once Upon A Time, Cross; a rough night for our heroes. so given sister chantelle saying “again? wonderful.” and nadia saying “i can’t believe you missed rehearsal again”, clearly ivy has been missing quite a few rehearsals, so for dramas sake maybe from when she found out she was pregnant? also i know i’ve been saying they wouldn’t have rehearsals on weekends, and given my weird timeline this would be a saturday, but its tech week so i’ll allow it.

May 5: Two Households, Bare, Queen Mab, A Glooming Peace; pretty self explanatory, and it makes sense to have the spring play in early may. rip jason.

May 11: Absolution; the day before graduation peter goes to confront the priest. gives him a small amount of time to start processing, and it makes sense it would be the night before, at least to me.

May 12: No Voice; i fucking hate this. “peter, we graduate next sunday” i hate that stupid fucking line. do you know that this timeline literally would be fine if it weren’t for that stupid fucking line? bc then, the school play would be in early may and graduation could be in late may-early june (when most high schools hold graduation) but no. keeping with continuity, they have to graduate the sunday following the school play. “peter we graduate in a month, are you really never gonna talk to me again?” would have been fine. but no, now we have beef. literally everything else about the end of this timeline being kinda weird would work itself out, except for the fucking graduation. god damn. anyway, may 12th, the graduate on may 12th which is really fucking weird bc of that one fucking line. whatever. i didn’t write the damn thing bc if i did i wouldn’t have written that fucking line. (i’ve been at this for over an hour and a half, so i’m a tad annoyed, can you tell?)

anyway, that’s it. that’s my long as hell proposed bare timeline. if there’s anything glaringly wrong with it i don’t care bc this timeline literally cannot make sense. but honestly, now that i think about the Popular Tween High Schooler Musicals (heathers, bmc, deh) the timelines of those (especially heathers and bmc) don’t make tons of sense either. that’s just the way it is, that’s the way its gonna be. and we have to live with it.

this post is so long it is actually slowing down my laptop as i type it

#bare a pop opera #bapo #me speaks #i stg there is no real way to make this timeline make sense #a whole lotta this is #it makes sense bro trust me bro #also apologies if this is hard to read i am not very good at phrasing things over text #or at all

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chinchillasinunison · 3 years

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Family sitcom hcs if you still have some left hand em over

okay

They go camping one weekend and it's a disaster. Kiyotaka packs way too much shit they don't need (seriously, what are we gonna use a protractor for in the middle of the woods?). Takaaki and Hiroko spend the entire first day setting up the tents and it keeps failing like some Laurel & Hardy routine. Yasuhiro thinks he sees Bigfoot overnight and he's so terrified he goes to sleep with Taka like "TAKA SHIELD ME WITH YOUR EYEBROWS!" Mondo and Daiya straight up got lost on the way and almost ate each other to survive even if it was only lasted like 2 hours before they found the park ranger outpost.

This is kinda gross but like. Takaaki is one of those people who doesn't flush after he pees because it saves him like ¥2 a flush on the water bill. Kiyotaka finds this disgusting and it's a subject of frequent, heated debate between them. Nearly everyone else in the house is on Taka's side on this, but Hiroko is honestly indifferent. It's not like it's a health hazard or anything.

Branching off what I said in the Takoko headcanon post about Takaaki joking about his trauma, saying "Thanks Toranosuke" at any minor inconvenience (a lá "Thanks Obama") becomes a big inside joke in this household, even beyond the Ishimarus. Like even the Diamond Brothers say it when their bikes get a dent or whatever. Everything bad, it's all Toranosuke's fault.

Daiya works at a gas station in a seedy part of the city and it becomes a little haven for downtrodden kids because he'll let them have as many snacks as they want. That annoys his employer but also when someone actually tries to rob the place (which happens somewhat frequently) Daiya beats them senseless so the dude's hands are tied because he's not the greatest employee but at the same time is probably the best the place has ever had.

Daiya also does food deliveries on his motorcycle, gotta get that bread ya know

Switching gears to glasses Mondo: at first when he's picking them out he wants slimmer, more squared lenses in conservative colors because he thinks they'll be at least a little less dweeb-ish but he tries one on in that style and yells "OH GOD I LOOK LIKE BYAKUYA!" and the association makes his blood boil so much it breaks through his ego. He gets somewhat squared ones but the lenses are much larger and, fuck it, it has purple rims, because that's his favorite color and he already looks stupid anyway (in his mind). Yasuhiro gets round tortoiseshells more as an experiment in style than anything else.

Mondo, whining shortly after he found out he needs glasses: "I can't wear 'm, bro! I'm scared it's gonna make me look lame!" Taka: "Come now, Mondo! Think of our peers who also wear glasses! Hifu-- er, To-- Bya-- uh, Pekoyama and Gokuhara from the other classes! They're not lame!" (a bit ooc for regular Taka to call people lame but it's funny)

When Takaaki discovered he was ace and came out to Taka he thought he was, like, gonna disown him somehow even though he's his kid and Taka tells him, "Father. Even if I wasn't also asexual, I have a boyfriend. I am gay. I will not throw you out based on what arouses you or lack thereof. Also I am your teenage son who has literally no authority over you. I can sympathize with your fears but I also cannot express to you how little sense they make."

"If Yasuhiro can play a song about two transport vehicles engaging in unwholesome acts without reproach, you all can suffer through my Schoolhouse Rock Greatest Hits CD!"

Hiroko gives excellent hugs, as does her son. Their hugs can calm the wildest hearts. They're fortunate enough to be around folks that really need them.

#danganronpa #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada #takaaki ishimaru #yasuhiro hagakure #hiroko hagakure #hisverse

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fe-husband-heaven · 4 years

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Thanks to popular demand ;) Part two is here!!

Ehuehuehue of course, with the quote I think lands them on the list!

Part 2! Of Heroes I think have a thing for the Summoner:

Henry:

"You won't die, will you, Summoner? If you died, I'd have to invent a horrible new hex for whoever killed you. So just...stay alive, OK?"

Henry is genuinely sweet. So long as you're not on the wrong side;; He gets attached if you're kind to him so he's at your every beck and call rather quickly, even if you say he doesn't have to do your chores, he insists on it.

ZHDBDDH he's extremely protective, not in an overbearing fashion but more that anything that messes with you, messes with him. He's learned to keep his face in an eternal smile but he prefers to see that yours are real :')) Sweet boy

Henry and The Summoner end up just being known as that duo. As in Do Not Separate. (Mostly because leaving Henry alone to his own devices is asking for trouble) but also, Henry just likes having you with him during his shenanigans nyaha

Raven:

"Glad to fight for you. Long as it doesn't get in the way of...well, never mind." "Need me? Just say so."

"But now, none of that matters. I've come to my senses after watching you at work here. Does any of that make sense? If not, forget I said anything. I'll still fight hard for you."

Veterans of this blog...yall know know. This man is the start of it all djxjdj

Homeboy gave up his revenge, choosing instead to fight for you rather than a past that's haunted him.

Raven's a bit of a bodyguard, with his resting angry face, he scares off anyone who might approach you whenever you're with him. And he can be quite impulsive so if he thinks someone's upset you, he's out to pick a fight.

Hnnnnghgh my boy💖💕💖

Ephraim:

"I will fight. To bring peace to this world, and for your sake, too." || "You know, I like you. And I feel I can trust you completely."

"I will protect you. Just believe in me and follow my lead." || "I'll protect you. I don't want to lose anyone else."

"I'm thankful that the two us can spend this winter festival together. It means a lot to me."

Ephraim💙💙💙hnnnnngh, I love him so much!! And he's constantly going and on and on about how he's going to protect the summoner. A loaded statement considering how much he already has to protect ;)

Ephraim is a bit oblivious though, he has no clue he likes you himself. And he won't know until he's made to think about it by someone else. It's just something he's never worried about.

But his behavior makes it clear to others. Ruffling your hair, escorting you nearly everywhere and even having you nearby as he sparred with other heroes. It seems as though him and the summoner are inseparable!

He's just as protective as the Henry and Raven but Ephraim runs off of his instinct to protect you rather than than being pissed off at someone who upset you.

Yarne:

"You always look so busy. Why don't you take a break and pet my fur? I hear that it's pretty relaxing."

"I'm not big on danger, but I don't want to see you go extinct, either. On the battlefield, you stay behind me, OK?"

like Libra, HIS ENTIRE LVL 40 CONVO: "Hey, Summoner...Did you notice? I didn't jump when you spoke to me. I heard you coming. Lately, I catch myself listening for your footsteps, wondering where you're going...If you ended up getting attacked, summoners would go extinct! And I'd be pretty lonely. If you're ever in danger, shout my name, or just make a loud noise. I'll hear it and come running! Thanks to you, I've gotten plenty strong. Now I can protect you! Thanks for giving me the courage to help."

Bro...the footsteps thing is so cuuuute! The fact that he recognizes them...aww! ++Offering up his fur to be pet?? Absolutely superb-

Yarne's fear of going extinct is always something he's struggled with but he's willing to push through it to keep you safe. He's a sweet man who places the summoner's safety at the same level as his own. And that's why I think he absolutely deserves a spot on this list!

Lucius:

"I feared that you'd lose respect for me if you knew the truth—or would even be repulsed. I do such good works that I shouldn't allow myself to care, but when it comes to you...I do. I put myself in your hands. Will you like or loathe me? But know this, you will have my loyalty."

Lucius is so sweet and caring and very supportive of the summoner, my poor boy doesn't even care about whether or not you'd shun him, just that you know he'd support you regardless.

dndnxnx I can definitely see him falling for the summoner but feeling no need to divulge it to them juuuuuust yet. He's very much content with simply being near the summoner so he doesn't think all that much about revealing any feelings.

Of course, he's incredibly attentive so if the summoner falls for him...he'll know. But even then, he'll wait for them to come to him. Patiently. As long as he has to.

Valter:

"I will master you. Someday."

"You are mine now. Entertain me! More!"

"I do take what I want. I'll take whatever I desire. From anyone. Knowing this, you have made use of me. And you have granted me much power... I cannot understand your actions. Do you intend to control me? Or do you long for me to be your master? Either way, you have become my finest prey. I will not permit another to sate their bloodlust on you...Just me."

I said the ones who have a thing for the summoner, not whether or not it was a BAD thing cjcnfnfnxn

Hoo boy. Possessive and obsessive is the name of the game in this wheelhouse;; though it's a little strange when it comes to Valter. He has a very calm demeanor (most of the time) when speaking to the summoner as opposed to his manic state in batttle.

My reason for putting him on this list is the clear "This one belongs to me." attitude cjfjdjd I have a feeling that he has no issue getting to use his lance against any of the summoner's "admirers"

Gaius:

"Here to beg more candy off me? I'm not sharing this one, though— it's my favorite right now. Packed with sweet, sweet honey...Hm? You don't want candy? You got work for me, then? ...No? Wait, you're not just here to spend time with me, are ya? 'Cause that'd make you a big ol' marshmallow. Only softies try to build relationships up for their own sake. And here you are—soft as cotton candy. Heh. I changed my mind. Take the honey candy. No reason—just my way of saying thanks."

Isn't this SO cute?? Gaius, the king of all things sweet and sugary, giving his favorite candy to the summoner because they just want to spend time with him....how cute!!

He's such a softie for them and it's adorable! If anyone's being led by the nose here, it's Gaius. But without the summoner knowing how positively melt able Gaius is💖💖💖

Gaius isn't a mean guy by nature but I think him giving away his new favorite candy is a clear sign of a particular fondness.

Narcian:

"I'll make you regret that you picked a fight with me, Narcian! One day I'll make you kneel. Then I'll pet your head like a little kitty—and keep you at my side forever! Ha ha ha ha!"

Is this one surprising to yall? jddjdj its really just the kitty at my side part that makes me think it heheheh. Narcian thinks of Narcian first and such, he is deserving of the best.

And of all the fleas that drown in his brilliance, he has deemed you the best in suiting him. (ꈍᴗꈍ) Isn't that lovely?

In his lvl. 40 conversation, he mentions that the summoner has said he's full of himself so...this is 100% a dynamic of the summoner being tired of his crap and the guy who thinks this summoner belongs to him fjfjfjfj

Shigure:

"I'm glad you've come to see me. Do you want my company on a mission? Or perhaps to just look for a rainbow. I do enjoy being by myself, but spending time with you is also quite relaxing. Perhaps it's because... You're not the chatty type. I have grown fond of you. I hope you'll remember me even after we one day part ways. Nothing would make me happier than if every time you glance at the sky or hear a song, you think of me. Perhaps it's a bit selfish for a mere Hero to ask for such a thing from a Summoner, but it's simply how I feel. And I thought you should know."

"I don't like singing for an audience. Unless, of course, that audience is you. You are often in my thoughts."

"Would you walk with me sometime? You could tell me more about this beautiful world and about yourself as well."

So I counted, and Shigure has asked the Summoner like 5 times if they'd like to go somewhere or do something with him fjfjfjdn And he's asked them not to forget him, it seems that he wants to remain imprinted in their thoughts.

There's a bit of a calm but melancholy air in this dynamic sometimes. But it switches to a light environment when he speaks about going for rides on his pegasus with the summoner. :') Dhdjfj isn't it a cute idea to go on a flying date??

Shigure is sweet and is even willing to sing for the summoner, so long as they are the only one to be his audience. He's got no qualms about sharing his voice with the summoner and its "Got a thing for the summoner" worthy (ꈍᴗꈍ)

Chrom:

"Aren't you cold? I wouldn't be much of a Hero if I let our summoner collapse. Here, take my cape."

"If you're ever in trouble, just call for me. Wherever you are, I'll come running with the wind at my back."

"You spend time with me. You're by my side, cheering me on. You make me stronger. That...makes me happier than you can guess. I'm truly grateful. I'll do what I can to do the same for you."

Hxhxhx im a sucker for the "Take my coat" trope. He's so supportive and an absolute sweetheart, baring his heart out to the summoner. He speaks a lot about how nothing will ever break his and the summoner's bond too!

He mentions it constantly! In fact, in his lvl.40 Bunny Version Conversation, he paints (a bad) portrait of the summoner on a festival egg and writes a poem on the other side about how much he values the summoner's presence.

He's absolutely intent on displaying how much he cares about his bond with the summoner and it's a very sweet dynamic. He's eager to show how much he cherishes them and that's the easiest way to end up on this list xjxhxhxh

#fire emblem heroes #feh #fe heroes #maybe I'll do a oneshot based on the list???#👀👀👀

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iwritethat · 4 years

Text

Dick Grayson: Fine Cuisine

Summary: Fluff

• Dick is unprepared for a family meal but your offer your fine expertise and have the whole family asking questions about you.

Warnings: Mature language

A/N: Hello lovlies! I’ve missed you all so much, I hope this helps a bit and there’s so much more I could add onto this so please enjoy and lemme know how you all are~

>>>>—————————>

It started with a family dinner.

As many curious situations do in retrospect, but with a family of vigilantes whose relationship ties have frayed, intermingled and been resewn makes for more interesting get-togethers compared to most.

One thing they could all agree on though? Dick Grayson cannot cook.

"I can't believe that, they just assume it's going to end in a takeout?" Came your amused voice as you placed a coffee on your kitchen island that Dick was currently seated - or rather slumped at.

"It's because the last two times I've hosted something like this, takeout has saved my ass." The ravenette embarrassingly clarifies, voice trailing off toward the end and did his best to avoid looking at you.

Dick Grayson was technically a neighbour, albeit living a few floors below your more lavish (and expensive) apartment suite. After moving into the complex on the same day, you quickly excavated the common ground to build a solid foundation for friendship - as such, meet-ups like these became a regular thing, switching apartments each time.

"Then, I'll help you out." You proudly confirmed, gesturing to your grand kitchen which was the sole reason you’d brought the place - one of the many things Dick envied about your luxurious living area compared to the standardised version of his own, though on an Officers salary he couldn’t afford something like this.

"Ah (Y/n) no, I can't let you do that!” Came his instant reply, hands waving defensively as he adamantaly brainstormed another excuse. “Plus you'll be working that night."

"True, but that doesn't mean I can't set you up beforehand. We'll start tomorrow, I'll teach you a recipe."

———

As previously planned, Dick turned up at your door rather nervously even though he’d been around you many times - not once had he demonstrated a serious negative flaw to his character in order to impress you, but cooking was one of them and you were about to witness chaos that’d likely dispel any romantic inclination he hoped you held for him.

“Ready?”

“No.”

With a playful laugh, you rolled your eyes and pulled the male into your kitchen noting how he was likely tired from his shift at Blüdhavens Police Department earlier that afternoon so a good meal should do wonders. Maybe it’d give him a better nights sleep too? The acrobat never seemed to obtain many of those for some unknown reason, apparently it’s ‘too noisy’ in the city.

“Oh and you can host in my apartment, it’s bigger and I’ll have all the equipment you need. You already have a spare key anyway.”

“You’re really amazing, I don’t deserve you - y’know that?” There were deeper feelings involved in that seemily offhanded thank you, ones relating to his role as Nightwing and his past mistakes which all remained a hated secret from you.

It started well, Dick following along with ease and you concluded that he picked things up fast with how observant he was which sped up the process. The main course he’d nailed with your guidance and so, you decided to move onto dessert.

“Now we add cocoa powder to th-“ You’d froze, mouth open out of surprise with the substances dusting your lips, cheek and part of your left collar bone - the offender in question mirroring your expression, albeit holding back his laughter due to his colossal misjudgement.

“I - I didn’t think it’d go everywhere when I ripped the packet open...”

“You don’t ever rip the packet, you tear it gently!” Came your dangerously mischievous correction, licking the sweet substance from your lips before flicking the currently non-chocolate brownie covered spoon at him with flecks landing on the side of his face.

“Oh, it’s on!”

This ensued an all out war, the two of you ducking and dodging oncoming attacks as you danced around the kitchen island with varying results of accuracy until Dick decided to slide over the marble surface and capture you in his arms.

His embrace faltered slightly as your back hit the island during your feeble attempt to get away, finding yourself trapped between him and the cool surface too enthralled in the carefree antics to notice the proximity. A beat of silence passed once the atmosphere had settled, Dick releasing a breathy chuckle with his grip around your waist loosening slightly as you looked up with a victorious smirk - he took the opportunity to lean forward slightly as if testing the waters and careful to note any kind of reaction you replied with.

However, there was a lack of trust as all is fair in love and war, hence your devious reasoning to close the gap some more and with the softness of his warm breath dancing on your lips you swiftly leaned past his whilst dragging your tongue across his cheek. Dick pulled back instantly, a mix of disgust and offence in his eyes as you spoke.

“Needs more sugar.”

“I’m sweet enough as it is thank you, you’d know that if you’d have just kissed me instead of betraying me like that!” Dick wittily snapped back, admiring the melodious laughter that escaped you at his response.

“I’m sure you do, speaking of - these brownies should last until the dinner so you won’t have to make them again on the day alright? I’ll get everything ready so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I guess you’d taste pretty sweet too.” Though referencing your kind nature, you couldn’t help but lightly punch him in the shoulder.

———

Regardless of Dicks wistful prayers, the deadline had finally arrived and his family would be sporadically arriving in a matter of hours - so help him.

"All the ingredients are on the counter - do not use anything else - and I've detailed the instructions on the whiteboard in case you forget anything." You pointed to each item as you spoke, donning a jacket before barely making it past the kitchen doorframe due to your neighbours dramatically desperate pleas.

"Can't you just stay? And do it with me?"

"I have to go to work." You laughed at his antics, the man looking like a lost puppy amidst your vast collection of kitchen utensils.

"Work will survive without you, c'mon you wouldn't lose out on much - I'll even pay for the trouble."

That, truly caused you to hesitate with a look of sheer bemusement, a mischievous glint dancing in your irises that mocked his claim almost as much as your sardonic tone.

"If you truly knew my job and paycheck then you'd take that back.” With that, you were quick to flip to a more cheerful voice as you waved goodbye to a pouting Grayson. “Anyway, you'll be fine and tell me how it went once I get back~"

"Wait (Y/n) h-"

The slam of the front door echoed your departure leaving a Dick feeling more lost than ever, the kitchen seemingly quadrupling in size now.

Bruce arrived first along with Damian, Cass, Duke and Alfred. Then there was Tim who’d apparently travelled from Titans tower and finally Jason who’d sauntered in fashionably late as predicted but only by 5 minutes. Each baffled by the sudden change of location which only intensified when the host brought out plates of home cooked dinner.

"..."

"This... this isn't take out..."

"No, it's actual food.” Dick confirmed almost offended and words laced with a hint of underlying sarcasm. “That I made myself."

"Okay, so uh - is it edible then?" Jason quipped back, smirking at his elder brother in a smug manner that only he could achieve.

"Would you just eat it? I went through a lot of stress and effort for this."

Dick encouraging everyone as he sat down, the action only bemusing the members of his family more as they complied to his wishes with varying degrees of hesitance from each of them. Damian trusted Dick the most, but he patiently waited for his father to finish his mouthful before even touching his own dish.

"Wow, this is incredible, the flavour and everything - Dick what happened to you?!" Duke enthusiastically mocked and continued to devour the meal with a sense of radiance which contrasted to Cassandras pure silence as she savoured every tasteful mouthful.

"Grayson, there is no way you are solely responsible for this cuisine." Damian suspiciously raised a brow at the older hero, tentatively laying his cutlery elegantly on the now clear plate.

"Thank you, and maybe I had some assistance from my neighbour."

“Thank you for dinner Dick, it was surprisingly delicious and please give our thanks to your mysterious friend too.” Bruce knowingly added, proud of his protégés accomplishments - though minor in comparison to Alfreds glowing exterior.

“I told you there was hope Master Bruce.”

"Bro, they left a whole list of instructions so you wouldn't mess up and hey, call if you need anything. Sounds like a plan -" Jason, who had waited until everyone was finished explored your kitchen in hopes of finding some evidence as to who their saviour was.

"Jason no! They're working!"

"It‘s an emergency, you’ve been replaced by a clone with adequate cooking skills!” Tim wittily added once leaning against the kitchen doorframe to observe the scene with Damian inspecting the whiteboard before questioning it’s purpose.

“Why leave this if they couldn't answer then?"

"That's the point, she will answer and I don't want to disturb her right now. They've done enough for me already." Dick painfully sighed, strategically slapping Jason’s phone into the air and catching it with his other hand in one swift motion much to the irritation of the latter.

"Hold up - she?" Duke cut in now, holding his hands out for emphasis and subtlety fishing for elaboration.

"Are you dating...?” Jason hummed, taking a moment to analyse Dicks reaction prior to cementing his assumption. “No, but you want to, right?"

“We are not -“

“You want to date someone?” Cass innocently inquired now walking in with a pile of plates, Bruce and Alfred following in afterwards with clean up of their own.

“I mean I -“

“I’ve seen enough of your crushes to know you have one, you’re already flustered by thinking about them romantically.” Bruce effortlessly deducted, Alfred nodding in agreement whilst commencing the washing up.

“You can’t just call me out like that Bats, after everything with been through too.” Dick feigned betrayal, a hand on his heart whilst Bruce shook his head.

“Oh yeah, how long did he wait for Starfire and Barbara though?” Tim jokingly nudged Jason who chuckled at the small dig, though charismatic and charming - when real feelings were involved, Dick Grayson wasn’t one to straightforwardly act on them.

“Real mature guys.”

“I think you should tell her.” Was the sincere voice of reason, Cassandras kind smile enough to silence the devilish remarks of his brothers who now shrugged in defeat.

“We could help...”

———

Miraculously, you'd attained reservations at the most eloquent restaurant in Gotham, located in the more luxurious district of the wealthy. As a result, it served only the finest gourmet cuisine and had waiting lists longer than any other, so much so that even Bruce Wayne had yet to successfully book a place at the establishment.

You had given him the news when he’d recounted the events of his family dinner (skipping over certain discussions) and how they were grateful for your generosity.

Now, you'd asked Dick for how many he'd like seated at the table so you could finalise the arrangements - he knew you worked there, meaning staff privileges were likely applied in this situation but he was still left speechless.

Gawking at the skyrocketing prices, Dick now understood how much missing one day of work would seriously cost you - he definitely couldn't have afforded your time that night after all.

"So, you say you're paying for this?"

With a painstaking hum of agreement, the eldest nodded with a hint of concern detected on his features, fortunately Bruce had come prepared with his own credit card (just in case). Although his family could be provoking and frivolous toward one another, they were also respectful in situations like these and wouldn't run the bill up too high like certain members would if Bruce had been footing the bill. Dick had a charismatic bond with all of them in that sense.

Meanwhile, you handled everything in your kitchen of organised chaos as the orders came pouring in, including that of Dicks table who you had yet to formerly greet.

"This is cereal..." The head waiter meant it more of a question than a statement, looking to you with upmost uncertainty due to the simplicity of the dish compared to those on your signature menu.

Did they even stock Lucky Charms with the ingredients? The answer was no, you’d intentionally bought them purely for this very day and scenario.

"I know, I know - please serve it to my neighbour on Table 12, he'll get it." You humourously assured the man who seemed to have more to say but didn’t wish to argue with higher authority.

"Ah, Chef..." Your sous chef called moments later, overlooking the scene with mild skeptism before realising the nature of your scheme.

"Hm?"

"You do realise he is currently seated with Mr Bruce Wayne, don't you?" Upon processing that unprecedented information you immediately bolted - hot on the trail of the waiter with a weak promise in your wake.

"What?! I thought he'd bring his friends along not his- oh god, I just sent them cereal- shit, I'll be right back!"

With strategy and precision, you carefully intercepted the tray only seconds before it’d be placed in front of the empty seat of Dick Grayson - the man in question probably taking a bathroom break.

"Aha, pardon me, this was an incorrect order on my part, please forgive the interruption." You bowed with an apology, disappearing in hopes the remainder of the party hadn’t the time to fully decipher the mistake.

Of course, unbeknownst to you, this was a table full of detectives who constantly observed even the most trivial of details.

"Was that... cereal?"

The night followed on as planned, yourself wrapped up in cooking and supervising throughout the night with the only interruption coming from the waiting staff informing you that Table 12 would like to meet the Chef. Such a gesture was commonplace for you, customers regarded as strangers being much less intimidating than your neighbours family - you couldn’t comprehend why, it’s not like you were dating him or anything but their auras just radiated strength.

"Good evening, I'm glad to hear you -" Arriving at the table, you weren’t given the chance to finish before Dick had stood to greet you with a warm smile gently brushing your upper arm once deciding against hugging you out of habit.

"Hey, (Y/n). You didn’t come over this morning, everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine Dick I just had to readjust a menu." You waved his worries off with a grateful nod, hands on your hips in accomplishment as you expected to resume natural conversation with him.

"Okay okay, compliments to you, the food was immaculate - but how do you know our brother?" A youthful male bearing a white streak through his hair cut in, genuine sincerity in his tone when offering his praise before incredulously gesturing to Dick.

"He's my neighbour."

"I - he's a what now?" Duke shook his head in disbelief, looking between you both rather unconvinced.

"Are you kidding me Grayson?!" Tim was next, the most exasperated out of the whole table as he pinched the bridge of his nose whilst Dick quizzically scanned each of his company for insight.

"What...?"

"You got cooking lessons from one of the top Chefs in the whole damn country, you're friends with her, and you didn't even know who she was?!" The slimly built youth exclaimed, apparently knowledgeable in regards to the culinary world and had read of your famous reputation.

“(Y/n) (L/n) owns this restaurant Dick. Also, thank for the other week, the recipe was lovely.” Bruce politely added, nodding to you with a smile.

“You didn’t say that, you only said you worked here.” Dick turned to you now, in a feeble attempt to justify his lack of acknowledgment to your renowned status.

“Well, I do. In my defence you never asked, I mean my apartment and kitchen are rather fancy - that didn’t come on minimum wage.” You replied a matter-of-factly with an air of confidence to your voice.

"Are we forgetting that this is also the chef who was going to serve Richard cereal?" At the remark from Duke, a heated flush adorned your skin due to the embarrassment of being caught - the whole table breaking into collective chuckles.

"You were? - Wow that's such a dick move!" Dick was openly laughing at your failed attempt at humour, lightly nudging your side as you pushed him away in playful defence.

"Shut up! I didn't realise you were with your family, or else I wouldn't have done it."

Jason immediately waved that claim off, cheekily smirking at you as he spoke. “Oh no, I'm so glad you did, honestly it's the main reason I like you right now."

“That and you spared us the horror of Graysons cooking.” Damian conviently inputted, conniving grin sent to his favourite brother.

“You’re welcome, ah I apologise but I should get back to work so please excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you all.” Taking a calculating glance over the expanse of exquisite tables and order exchanges you thought it best to return to your duties with a gracious smile and started toward the kitchen.

“Can I drop by tonight, I won’t be able to afford any thank you gifts after this but I’ll bring you a coffee?” Dick cheerily inquired, causing you to spin on your heel with a shy laugh and confirmation of his proposal.

“Don’t worry, this is my treat. You guys don’t have to pay for anything so enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that you were once again swept up into the busy atmosphere beyond the kitchen doors.

The table remained quiet for a few moments, Dick sitting down and looking to them almost as if searching for their impressions of you only to be met with bemused, impressed and mischievous gazes.

Not for you, oh no - these were shamelessly directed at a now enamoured Dick Grayson.

“Please marry her.”

#dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dc #dc imagine #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine

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lightneverfades · 3 years

Text

Frostiron (Tony/Loki) - Body Swap mini ficlet

This is a super old fic I wrote and sort of rewrote lol. Basically it’s just Loki and Tony swapping bodies, lol~

If there was ever a moment to panic, now was definitely it.

Point one being Tony was staring at his own face. That same, devilishly handsome face he had, only moments ago, been breathing in stared back at him with eyes wide open. The intruder that was wearing his face looked as dumb-founded, speechless, lips widening partly.

“What the hell —!“ Tony breathed under his breath, until he realized his voice sounded more familiar and… British? No, more… Loki.

Shit.

Tony really hoped he was wrong at this point.

He saw flickers of light looming over him, a golden vibration of colors that spiked dangerously like a lie detector recording sudden movements of an individual’s heart rate.

Tony shifted a little, trying to get up and felt an unfamiliar lightness to him. He realized that he was trying to lift his body up in the wrong way. The weight of the arc reactor he’d become so accustomed was gone. Even the layers of leather and heavy armor that clung over his - no, Loki’s - body was lighter than he had felt in a long time.

He would have felt some sense of relief at being relieved of said burden, had he not been in Thor’s brother’s body. Now this was going to be absolutely awkward. What was he going to say to Thor?

“Oh, sorry, I don’t know what happened, but I’m in your bro’s body now?”

But if he was in Loki’s body, then Loki must be in-

“What did you do! ” Tony shouted.

“This is not my doing, you fool!” Loki snarled back, although Tony didn’t hear it well; his voice almost sounded like he was listening to a recording and the tone of his voice flattened. Odd, really, hearing your voice from the point of view of someone else…

Loki was trying to get up from the floor where he had fallen, but some of the concrete blocks had collapsed on top of the Iron Man suit. Tony can still remember that pain, ghosting over this new body and his perfectly, uninjured leg. But oh, he can recall it as if he’d felt it, which he did until this happened to him.

Must hurt like a bitch. Serves him right.

Loki was struggling to get out, wriggling like a trapped animal.

“I don’t care!” Tony snapped, “Just switch us back and we can go back to chasing each other.”

Loki gave an exasperated sigh, “I cannot.“

Tony glared down at the god, “Why the hell not?”

Loki didn’t offer up a reason, instead looking at Tony with a frown and an equally matched glare of his own. “I do not have to explain myself to you.”

“Hmm, oh yeah? Well, you better speak fast, Reindeer Games, or you’re going to have to save yourself from that big boulder on top of you. Even my suit will need a bit of time to get through that,” Tony spoke, crossing his arms and looking down at his own face - which, he noted, looked more tired and maybe needed a bit more sleep to cure those dark circles under his eyes. He made a note to remedy that in no time once he got his body back.

“And just when I thought this night could not end any worse, I am left here to beg and grovel under the feet of a mere mortal…”

Tony rolled his eyes, turning his back on Loki, or rather himself. Even if wanted to get his body back in one piece, he wasn’t about to listen to Loki, of all people, whine in his own body. He was more dignified than that.

“I’ll get you some blankets, darling boo, don’t want my body to catch you a chill—“

“No, wait!” His own voice shouted back at Tony, demanding and urgent. He turned a little, although he kept his back turned, enough to peer over his shoulder and see his own face look back at him with a pout. God, it was absolutely ridiculous.

“Stop that,” Tony muttered, turning to face Loki and the man blinked back at him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Do what?”

“That!”

Tony could hear that foreign voice grow louder and it made his skin crawl because he was forced to use Loki’s voice to reprimand the god currently residing in his body.

“I cannot do anything, Stark, while I am trapped,” Loki pointed out, using his hands to further elaborate the situation as if he were a conductor starting up a crescendo for an orchestra.

Tony groaned. Such a drama queen. Why did I have to get stuck with Loki, of all people?

The fact that a small smile was forming on those damned lips irritated Tony all the more.

“And if you insist on leaving me here, unable to help myself, the longer it will take for our… dilemma… to disappear,” Loki purred, eyebrows raised. Gleaming white teeth now made an appearance and Tony could feel the heat rise in his body as he saw Loki use his trademark smile to charm people he wanted to bait.

Damn Loki!

It worked, even on him.

“Fine!” Tony found himself literally growling through gritted teeth. “Tell FRIDAY what you need!”

“That’s all?” Loki spoke, frowning at Tony.

Tony sighed, “Ugh, yeah. I just wanted to mess with you. Come on! I haven’t got all day! And also…”

“Mmm?” Loki turned, frowning but obliging him now, his eyebrows rising to the point where even Tony thought impossible.

“Your clothes itch.”

A strangled snarl left Loki’s lips, and if there were any trespassers coming across the scene, they would have heard a roar of “FRIDAY, GET ME AWAY FROM THIS FOOL!” resonating through the whole area.

#just dumping it here #if anyone wants to read it hahahah #im rubbish #frostiron #tony/loki #loki/tony #fic #my fic #body swap trope #HERE HAVE SOME CRACK

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

kings of campus compilation

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 31.k+

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic energy, poly relationship, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, switch!hobi, sub!yoongi, sub!jk, sub!tae, sub!jimin, PUNS, pick up lines, arguments, nerd tingz, smut [thigh kink, noona kink, marking, oral (m + f receiving), dom/sub themes, spanking, breast worship, etc. etc.]

⇥ banner: heathy uwu @shadowsremedy

[this will be a reposting/working document for those of you that cannot access my KOC chapter links right now uwu] [hope this works] [you can also read on ao3]

PROLOGUE

Spring of Sophomore Year - 11:52pm

“If it gets any hotter in here, we’d need jackets to enter the fucking gates of Hades.”

My stellar observation goes by unappreciated, but I’m not shocked. The music thumps heavily through the house at a deafening decibel and the only methods of communication are screaming or sign language - I had done neither.

Earlier, when my roommate Luna told me about this particular party, I had hesitations for several reasons:

This party is being held at the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) house - a house known for its wild parties, excessive drinking, and dangerously attractive brothers.

I am not a huge fan of the aforementioned features or the trouble that always seems to accompany them.

It’s Harry Potter Weekend and I am going to miss the fucking Goblet of Fire for this.

Long story short, Luna convinced me to go with her with promises of pizza and our own Harry Potter marathon tomorrow. Her promises in mind, I square my shoulders and motion for Luna to follow me to the slightly quieter kitchen on the other side of the living room.

As we cross the crowded room, Luna tugs on my wrist and tilts her head subtly towards the corner where four very large, very attractive guys are playing a rowdy game of beer pong, while three (equally attractive) others lounge against the wall watching. Taking a closer look, I notice that the two at the far end of the table seem to be winning. The one with light pink hair takes his shot and curses loudly when he misses. Annoyed, the other shoves him out of the way, lines up to shoot, and pauses. Our eyes meet.

A shiver runs down my spine as his dark gaze rests on me. His jaw is clenched and chiseled, his lips are set firmly but wickedly full. His black t-shirt stretches over wide, solid shoulders and I can almost make out the muscles that ripple beneath. His right arm is still poised to take his shot, and I can’t help but notice how his bicep strains the fabric of his sleeve and how his large, tanned hand completely dwarfs the pong ball.

I barely remember to breathe as I realize his gaze is making his own assessment of me. I can feel his dark eyes rake over me, and it makes my skin buzz. His eyes trail over my black crop top down to my ripped black jeans, and blatantly checks out my legs.

Suddenly, his pink-haired partner elbows him, shattering our little moment. Shakily taking a breath, I turn to Luna who has an eyebrow raised at me. She grabs my hand and practically drags me into the kitchen. I sip my drink and fight the urge to look back.

The minute we enter the mostly empty kitchen, Luna whips around to face me, “Were you just openly eye-fucking Kim Taehyung, (y/n)?” I choke on my beer.

“Who?” I croak, still coughing to clear my windpipe of what I’m certain is shitty Natty Light. Rolling her eyes, Luna shakes her head at me like a disappointed parent, “Kim Taehyung. You know, the pledge master for BTS? Was just with his frat brother Park Jimin?”

She pauses dramatically, seeming to be waiting for some kind of response. I stare at her blankly.

Scoffing, Luna continues, “They were the ones playing pong just now, dumbass. The blue-haired one is Taehyung. You know, the one you were mentally undressing-”

“Okay,” I cut her off, “I’m sorry to say that I haven’t paid much attention to the members of our ‘legendary’ fraternities.”

Pretending like I never interrupted, she resumes, “-with your eyes. Everyone knows who they are. You just live under a rock that you call the library…”

I close my eyes and pray for deliverance as Luna trails off.

“Can I get you another drink?” A deep voice definitely not belonging to Luna breaks the short silence. Opening my eyes, my vision focuses on the voice’s source – a cute BTS pledge. His eyes are focused entirely on Luna, who suddenly seems unnaturally shy. She sends me a searching look, and I nod in response. Smiling, she turns back to the boy, “Yeah, I’m Luna by the way, and this is (y/n).”

“Jaehyun,“ he answers, giving me a head tilt while placing a palm on Luna’s back. He slowly guides her from the kitchen towards where the keg was in the living room. Sending a glance over her shoulder, Luna meets my eyes and I wave my phone at her as a silent reminder to update me. She winks and disappears into the living room.

Sighing, I lift myself onto the kitchen counter to give my feet some reprieve from these heeled boots and reapply my blood red lipstick using my phone camera. Satisfied, I check the time.

12:01am. Not nearly late enough for Luna to want to leave - especially now…

Suddenly, a now-familiar buzz sizzles across my skin. Drawing my gaze up from my phone, two unopened cans of beer held by long, strong fingers meet my vision. I drag my eyes up past thick wrists and corded arms. Up goes my gaze past flexed biceps, across a broad chest, and finally my eyes meet his.

He looms over me, all broad and imposing.

"Hey,” his husky voice - just slightly deeper, raspier than Jaehyun’s - murmurs, “I’m Taehyung. I brought this for you.”

Taehyung’s intimidating; his stare is direct and unwavering. Heat rolls off him in waves, and if this party was hotter than hell, that must make him the devil.

Our fingers brush as I accept his slightly outstretched offering, and I swear I would feel the reoccurring zings for the next week. “Hey, thank you. I’m, uh…” I trail off, Taehyung’s dark eyes staring at me from this close make me seem to lose all power of speech. God, do eyes that color really exist? Apparently, they do – deep brown mixed with flecks of amber, hypnotizing.

I clear my throat and try to force my last two brain cells to work together, “I’m (y/n).”

He’s smirking slightly now, the gesture pulling forth the cutest flush of pink in his cheeks, “Nice to meet you, (y/n).” And I swear he says my name like he’s caressing it, tasting it for the first time.

Damn, he’s unholy. Where is my snarky, inner bad bitch when I need her?

“Did you win your game? Seems like you might have been a little… distracted,” I smirk, there she is. I crack open my beer and revel in the emitting hiss.

A flicker of heat bursts through those brown eyes as he leans closer still, enveloping me with his intoxicating cologne. He smells like autumn woods with a hint of fresh lemon; he smells like trouble.

Taehyung sets his beer down and places his arms on either side of me - caging me in. “Things were going just fine 'til this girl came strutting through the room in some tight fucking jeans,” his tongue flicks over his lower lip, “So, yeah, you could say I got a little distracted.”

“I do not strut,” I object, narrowing my eyes at him - daring him to contradict me.

He’s undeterred, “Yeah, you do, jagi.” His eyes are full of mirth and he’s clearly enjoying getting a reaction from me, “It’s hot.”

I bristle, unsure if I should accept that 'compliment’ at face value, “Does this work on most girls? You know, the whole cornering her while you give her lame compliments thing?”

He looks surprised for a second, but then his head tilts back and he lets out one of the most endearing laughs I’ve ever heard - all unrestrained and unabashed pleasure.

Still chuckling, he tilts his head, eyes darting all over my face - lingering on my lips, “Where did you come from, (y/n)?”

Within seconds we’re making out like unsupervised high school students, right in the middle of the damn kitchen. I let out an embarrassing moan when he bites my bottom lip then sucks on it. Expertly coaxing my lips apart, his tongue meets mine in a feverish tangle while his hands grip my waist - pulling me into him.

The way that Kim Taehyung kisses is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s hot and demandingly deliberate with a possessiveness that sends a ripple of electricity through me. I’m playing with fire, making out with him, but at this moment I can’t find it in me to give a single fuck.

Blazing lips suck and bite at the side of my neck and –

“(y/n)?”

The franticly questioning voice draws nearer as I open my eyes and tear myself away from Taehyung’s wicked mouth. Luna’s there, peering around Taehyung’s shoulder, and I can immediately tell that something is seriously wrong.

Shoving Taehyung away from me, I jump down from the counter and stumble - completely forgetting I was in three-inch heeled boots. Taehyung’s hands shoot out around my waist to stabilize me, “Whoa, easy there, (y/n).”

“Get your lecherous paws off her, Kim,” my eyes dart to Luna, shocked at her tone but proud of her vocabulary, “(y/n), we have to go.”

“What’s going on?” I’m at a loss, and I hate it, “Are you okay? Where’s Jaehyun? Do I need to chop his dick off?”

Taehyung lets out a choking sound beside me, but I pay him no mind - chicks before dicks, hoes before bros, besties before testes, etc. etc.

“What I’m planning is much worse,” Luna mutters with a strange glint in here eye as she pulls me away from Taehyung and levels him with an icy stare, “Listen, Kim, I know all about your little task for the pledges. Seriously, forcing them to get with as many girls as possible before they get their letters? Are you that much of a chauvinistic asshole?”

I whip around to face Taehyung, who seems to have become intensely interested in his beer, “Is this true?” He says nothing. I stalk up to him, shoving a finger in his chest, “Is. It. True.”

His beautiful, guilty eyes flicker up to meet mine, and my heart sinks.

“Fuck. You.” My words come out as a whisper but are still vicious enough to make Taehyung stagger back.

With that, Luna and I stalk out of the party - heads held high and arms linked.

Returning to our dorm, we make a pact to avoid all frat boys and christen it with pizza. She never tells me how she found out about the stupid pledge task; I’m smart enough to know that she must have had her reasons.

But I wasn’t smart enough to stop thinking about Kim Taehyung.

I played with fire.

I should have known I’d get burned.

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I’m pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

“Come on, bitches! Let’s get some drinks,” Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?“ She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion… He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona,” he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey? We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung…

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I’m gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot…

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat.

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year…”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

Chapter Three

“It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

We’re going to date the shit out of you.

We’re. Going. To. Date. The. Shit. Out. Of. You.

Those words play on a constant loop in my head for the rest of the week. After Namjoon had dropped that bombshell on me, I’d kind of freaked the fuck out, faked an immediate illness, and ran at full speed.

When I had told Luna about it later that night, she had been just as shook as me. Surprisingly enough, she had also given her full support of whatever I decided to do but “would have her banana slicer on standby and would order six more if need be”.

It appears that she had drunk-ordered a banana slicer off Amazon when the last boy she talked to pissed her off. I had apparently drunk-approved the decision. Rad.

Jenni’s reaction had been even better. We’d been in the library on Monday and her screech of “he said what!?” had led to multiple events:

An abundance of shushes from every student within a 50-yard radius

Her continued rant: “Your own personal harem! Can you say goals? Maybe I should infiltrate EXO and collect my own…”

Us getting kicked out by our ancient librarian

For the rest of the week, I had Luna and Jenni both giving me shit about the BTS boys. It had helped that I hadn’t run into them at all on campus between classes. But I had known it wouldn’t be long before my luck would run out…

Quinn Library – 2:31pm

Typically, I don’t spend my Friday afternoons deep within the stacks of the library’s quiet floor. Yet, here I sit typing frantically due to my incapability to stop procrastinating. My fingers fly over the keys of my aging MacBook in hopes that whatever spur of productivity I had going on is captured in its fullest.

General education classes could burn in the pits of hell as far as I’m concerned. If I wanted to be a psychiatrist, why did I have to take – and pay for – an art elective that I would likely never utilize in the workforce? Plus, the only class within the category that fit my schedule ended up being “Writing About Dance”.

Yeah, I’m still a tad bitter, but in all honesty the class isn’t that bad so far. It mainly consists of watching different dance performances and learning how to write about them in different styles.

Today’s assignment is to write critical commentary on videos of the university’s dance team that the professor provided for us. Sighing, I finish my review of the second to last dance video provided by the professor, take a quick second to stretch, and then open the link to the last video on the assignment page.

“Park Jimin – Final Performance Solo, Spring 2019”

Slack-jawed, I fall into wonder as Jimin moves through his routine flawlessly. He dances like it’s easier than walking to him. His movements are somehow precise and fluid all at once. I barely realize a few tears have run down my cheeks until the video cuts off, signaling the end of Jimin’s performance.

Jesus, (y/n), get it together. I laugh lightly as I dig in my backpack for a tissue. How could I possibly capture the ethereal beauty that Jimin exuded into words? Am I even worthy of commenting on such exquisiteness?

Definitely fucking not. And before I can second guess myself, I type: “Park Jimin is art in its purest form. Watching him dance is like watching the sun rise over the ocean – raw beauty accompanied by the hopes brought with a new day. His performance left me wanting for nothing except an encore.”

Boom. Submit Assignment.

As my email pings with the confirmation that my assignment is turned in, my eyes widen in realization. Park Jimin of BTS is a dance god, and he – allegedly – wants to date me? That is just ridiculously unfathomable.

Namjoon must be off his rocker.

Closing my laptop, my phone suddenly vibrates with an incoming notification from snapchat…

President_RM has added you!

Before I can even comprehend the absurdity of Namjoon adding me, my phone bursts into a series of buzzes. Cursing, I switch my phone to silent and check my screen.

minsuga93 has added you!

jhopeworld_ has added you!

handsomeJIN has added you!

JKookie97 has added you!

vantae_BTS has added you!

95jiminie has added you!

Are they serious? How did they even get my SnapChat username?

vantae_BTS has added you to a chat!

Curiosity wins out over aggravation as I swipe to open the chat.

Heart pounding, I fight the urge to chuck my phone into the depths of the bookcases winding around the room. What did those idiots want with me?

(y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 9:45pm

“What do those idiots want with me?” the decibel my voice has risen to is shocking even to my ears.

Luna cringes, accordingly, “I can’t tell if that’s a rhetorical question…”

I steamroll onwards, “And don’t even get me started on how they could have even gotten my snapchat. It’s a complete invasion of privacy!”

“You could just ask them,” Jenni’s voice cuts through my rambling tirade.

I pause, “No, I couldn’t—”

…Or could I?

Turning on my heel, I rush into my room and head straight for my closet. Grabbing the nearest sweatshirt and pair of leggings, I tug them on and then grab my keys from my nightstand.

Whirling back into the living room, I storm past a dumbfounded Luna and Jenni, “Be right back.”

Opening the apartment door, Luna shouts, “Wait! Where are you going? You’re not even wearing shoes!”

Whoops. I glance at my feet and note that she is, in fact, correct.

Jenni bounds over to me holding my Doc Martens, “Here, babe. You’re going to the BTS house, aren’t you?”

I nod grimly and salute my two best friends as if I’m going into battle. “I won’t be long. I just have a small errand to run.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Luna declares, pulling on her sneakers.

Jenni snorts and shoves her feet into her beat-up Converse, “No way am I missing out on this action.”

As we head out the door, I link arms with Luna and Jenni, “Have I mentioned I love you both recently?”

“Right back at you, bitch,” Luna laughs.

Greek Row – 10:17pm

Ten minutes later, we reach Greek Row. Fraternity and sorority houses dot the street on both sides. Personally, I think of this street as home to the chaotic rich, and I tend to avoid it at all costs – except tonight.

The line to get into BTS is so long it wraps around the block. Students dressed in the latest fashions converse as they wait, huddling together in their groups. I glance down at my outfit of a worn university hoodie and leggings.

“Well, shit. We’re underdressed, huh,” Jenni deadpans, causing all three of us to burst into laughter, “Do you think they put you on the list, (y/n)?”

Pondering that thought, I shrug, “Maybe,” and begin marching past the line of waiting students towards the front door of BTS, “But I sure as fuck am not waiting in that line.”

“Hey, there’s a line here!”

“Yo, bitches! What are you doing?”

“What the fuck?”

Paying the hecklers no mind, I saunter right up to the BTS pledges guarding the door, “Hi, I need to talk to Kim Namjoon.”

The pledge on the right rakes his gaze over me incredulously and then makes the same assessment of Luna and Jenni, “You know this is a party, right?”

I don’t deem that comment worthy of a response and instead cross my arms over my chest. He shrinks under the collective glare of me, Luna and Jenni.

The pledge on the left awkwardly clears his throat, “Names, please?”

My answer barely escapes my lips before the pledges visibly straighten, looking at me with new eyes, “You’re (y/n)? Why didn’t you just say so?”

And before I can answer, the front door swings open for us.

People are everywhere. A haze of smoke looms in the air, and rap music blares from the speakers. The bass is turned up so loud that the beat seems to take over the rhythm of my pulse. That cannot be healthy.

Turning to my friends, I do my best to communicate, shouting, “I’m going to find them! Are you going to be here?”

Luna and Jenni exchange a look and nod. Jenni shouts back, “We’re going to get some drinks. Might as well capitalize on free booze! Text us when you’re ready to go.”

And with that, we part ways.

Maneuvering around the sea of gyrating bodies in the main living room area, I scan around for any signs of my seven menaces.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Or is that my future wife?” The deep voice booms from behind me.

I sigh, recognizing the voice, and turn around.

Kim Taehyung is striding towards me with his arms outstretched, smiling like the damned fool he is and looking like he just stepped off the runway for Gucci. “Come to daddy.”

An idea forms. I smile sweetly and walk to meet Taehyung halfway. His boxy grin widens and just as he thinks I’m going to let him wrap his arms around me, I grab him by the ear.

“Ouch!” He cries, “Devil-woman!”

Ignoring him, I drag him behind me towards the stairs.

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked—OW!”

My hold on his ear tightens as we arrive on the second-floor landing, “Where are your brothers?”

“I don’t know, n-noona!” Somehow the honorific coming from Tae sounds divine, but I file that thought away for another time.

Removing my hold, I corner him against the wall of the hallway, “Okay, Kim, here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to point me in the direction of your room, go find your six idiot brothers, and then report back here so I can finally understand what the fuck is going on. Got it?”

My chest heaves as my directions conclude and I realize how close together we are. Taehyung stares at me with an indecipherable expression before breaking into a slow smile, “Noona is bossy.”

“Noona is going to shove her foot up your ass if you don’t get moving,” I growl.

“Kinky,” he laughs, backing away from me and my brewing anger, “Last door on the left is my room. I’ll be back with the six idiots.”

As he thumps back down the steps, I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to steel my nerves and rein in my anger. When I open them, my eyes are met with the amused gaze of Min Yoongi.

Slapping a hand to my heart, I wait for my pulse to settle from being scared out of my wits, “Motherfuck—how did you even move that silently?”

“It’s a skill,” Yoongi drawls, nodding towards to end of the hall, “So, group meeting in Tae’s room?”

Shooting him the best side-eye I can muster, I stalk past him, steadfastly ignoring the chuckles and light footfalls that follow behind me.

Throwing open the door which Taehyung indicated was to his room, I pause, taking in the horde of photos and art taped to the four walls. The light blue wallpaper barely peeks through the absolute massive amount of artwork.

“It’s overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” An angelic voice shyly breaks through my reverie, “Tae likes to collect pictures and things he finds beautiful.”

“Ah, so that’s why we’re friends.” The joke is followed by a laugh that can only be compared to the sound of a windshield wiper squeakily moving back and forth.

I shift my eyes from Taehyung’s walls and onto the two newcomers – Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin.

Meeting Seokjin’s gaze first, I cannot help but agree that he is a very, very beautiful man. With pushed back dark hair, mischievous brown eyes and impossibly broad shoulders, Seokjin can easily be mistaken for an idol. And, oh fuck, I’m still staring.

Shooting my eyes back up to his, I crinkle my nose at his shit-eating grin. Before he can even comment, I turn and lock eyes with Jimin.

“Your dancing is gorgeous,” I blurt out and immediately want to crawl under a rock and live out the rest of my life as Patrick Star.

Yoongi and Seokjin are cackling as Jimin’s face lights up at my embarrassing compliment, “You really think so?”

“There’s no shutting him up now,” Yoongi is in tears, “Watch out, (y/n). Jimin loves his fans.”

“Shut up, Yoongi-hyung!”

Jimin looks ready to swing, but luckily Taehyung chooses the right moment to return, “What have we missed? Why is Jiminie about to fight Yoongi? I’ll put $10 on hyung.”

Gasping in betrayal, Jimin sits on the edge of Tae’s bed and pouts.

The rest of the boys file in behind Taehyung as he flops down onto his bed and reclines like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Hi, (y/n). Good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here,” Namjoon greets me with a slight bow, a crooked smile and wicked eyes.

He’s followed closely by Jung Hoseok, the only BTS boy I hadn’t met thus far, “(y/n)! It’s so nice to meet you in person! Wow, you look so pretty tonight!”

“Noona always looks pretty,” Jungkook cuts in, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, “She’s bae.”

A collective groan arises from the rest of the boys. “Sit your ass down, JK,” Yoongi grumbles, “(y/n)’s going to break up with us before we even start dating.”

“Dating—!” I break off that train of thought. Other matters need to be attended to first, “No, I didn’t come here tonight to say ‘hi’ or to be your ‘bae’. I came here to get answers.”

I take my time making eye contact with each boy.

Taehyung is still spread out on his bed and Jimin has now joined him. Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook are sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the bed, while Namjoon and Yoongi slouch against the opposite wall of the bedroom facing me.

“Alright,” Namjoon lifts his chin, meeting my stare head on, “What do you want to know?”

Chapter Four

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House – 10:49pm

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

Namjoon’s question fills the room. The boys all stare at me with anticipation, leaning forward with furrowed brows.

I ponder my course of action for all of two seconds before launching into my well-practiced rant, “I want to know what sort of sick prank you think you’re playing, because I am not falling for it. I mean – all of you wanting to date one person? Date me? Seems fake, but okay.”

Some of the boys move to interrupt me, but I thrust up a palm, “No, please let me finish. I know I don’t really have the right to make judgements about you guys, but I have seen some misogynistic behavior from your frat. So, I feel like it’s not that far-fetched for me to think that you’re probably playing me.”

“Messy gymnast behavior? What’s that?” Jungkook whispers to Hoseok who just shrugs, looking equally as baffled.

“Misogynistic, Kook, not messy gymnast,” Namjoon pinches his nose in frustration, “It means prejudiced against women.”

Seokjin and Jimin descend into fits of laughter. Hoseok still looks mildly perplexed, and Yoongi takes a large sip of soju from a bottle he procured from god knows where within the last few minutes.

Covering his face, Jungkook dives behind Jin in hopes of further hiding his embarrassment.

“I think I know what she’s talking about.”

The room quiets at Taehyung’s interjection. He reluctantly sits up from his relaxed position on his bed and explains, “When we met at our party last semester, she found out about our old pledge tradition.”

“Oh, damn,” Jimin sighs, “So that’s why you motioned to remove it from the chapter’s history at the last meeting.”

“Yeah,” Tae looks me in the eyes, “We voted removed it, (y/n) … A little too late though, it seems.”

Jungkook peeks his head out from behind Jin’s shoulder, “We’re sorry, noona.”

Trying not to internally melt in response at the youngest’s display of classic puppy-dog eyes, I slump against the wall and slide into a sitting position on the floor. “Look, I’m not going to say that ‘it’s okay’ because it’s not. But I do appreciate that you removed it.”

The boys hang their heads, looking properly chastised.

“That’s fair,” Namjoon finally says quietly, “We know as a frat we fucked up. We’re not perfect. We make a lot of mistakes. But we’re trying to get back to being respectable and move on from here.”

“We’re trying to get back your respect,” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, looking at me with wide eyes and more attentiveness than I’ve ever seen from him.

“But that’s the other thing,” I look away, pulling at a random thread fraying off of the sleeve of my sweatshirt, “Why does it matter so much that I respect you? Why are you all so invested in me all of a sudden? In all honesty, I haven’t said more than two words in conversation to half of you.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really matter,” Namjoon shrugs, shifting to lean casually against the wall.

My eyes narrow, “How can it not matter?”

“Because we date as a group, (y/n)-noona,” Jimin smiles down at me from his perch on Taehyung’s bed, all squishy cheeks and crinkled eyes, “Tae thought we’d all like you, and then Jungkookie and Joon-hyung agreed and—”

Hoseok excitedly chimes in, arms swinging wildly, “And finding someone who we all like hasn’t happened in so long, and I’m so happy!”

“Yah, Hobi!” Jin reaches over Jungkook to shove the bouncing boy, “We’re supposed to be playing it cool. We have to woo her.” He winks and blows me a kiss.

Instinctively, I swat it away and then giggle at Seokjin’s indignant gasp.

“I take it back! She’s mean!” Launching into a passionate rant complete with head shaking and wild eyes, Jin continues, “Consider that kiss null and void. I have never been so insulted in my entire life, you know!”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I collapse from laughing alongside the rest of the boys. Namjoon’s dimples are out in full force as he drawls, “Hyung, that’s what you said yesterday when I beat you in Overwatch.”

Seokjin splutters over the now-renewed laughter of his younger brothers, “I thought I told you to never speak of that again!”

Trailing off in mumbles of how he needs new friends and how disrespected he is as an elder, Jin resorts to pouting in the corner.

“You’ll have to excuse Seokjin-hyung, (y/n),” Taehyung smirks at me with raised eyebrows, “He’s skated by solely on his looks up until now.”

Seokjin’s pouting intensifies.

“He is handsome,” I instinctively respond, fully focused on the beauty of Jin’s pouty lips. And when those lips break into a huge grin, I cringe at my lapse in judgement for the thousandth time that night.

“My faith in humanity has been restored!” Jin ambles back to his original spot next to Jungkook and thrusts a paper heart that he apparently had been carrying on his person for quite some time in my direction.

“Hyung,” Hoseok eyes Seokjin with a concerned frown, “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s one secret I’ll never tell.” Jin barely finishes that sentence before a flurry of pillows, water bottles, and other miscellaneous items are thrown at him from all angles.

“I thought we agreed no more quoting Gossip Girl, Jin-hyung!” Jimin cries as he continues to hit Jin with a pillow from Tae’s bed.

Miraculously still even able to speak under the assault from the other boys, Jin replies with complete sincerity, “XOXO.”

Chaos reigns.

Watching all seven of them in - presumably - their most natural state, I sigh in amusement, “Y’all are too much.”

Somehow the boys hear me, because they all turn to face me once more with various expressions of playfulness and mirth. Jin still lies under the pile of them laughing slightly as they slowly shift off of him.

“Nah, I think we might be just enough for you, noona,” Jungkook pipes up as he plops down on the edge of Taehyung’s bed.

“Yeah? And how do you know that?” A sudden thought occurs to me, “Wait, why do you all even date one person anyway? Don’t you realize like half the campus is in love with each of you?”

“You’re included in that half, right?” Taehyung grins and then shrinks under my withering glare, “I mean, it’s a long story?”

“Oh, hold on,” I check my wrist, which noticeably has no watch, “Mhm, that’s right. It’s story time.”

Jimin snorts and then burrows under the covers in mortification.

“Cute,” Hoseok sighs, staring at me, “I want to keep you.”

And there’s something about having Jung Hoseok’s full attention and adoration that brings me to peak devastation. I pull my hood up over my head and burrow into my sweatshirt.

“Aw!” Various yells rebound around the room. I flip them all off.

“Hobi,” Yoongi teases, “I think she likes you.”

I peek out of the safety of my sweatshirt to eviscerate him with my eyes, but Yoongi just raises one brow coolly and calls me out, “Well, am I wrong, jagi?”

All eyes are on me, and the room is suddenly so quiet that all I can hear is the muffled party downstairs and the beating of my heart.

“… I want my lawyer,” I finally declare, re-emerging from the depths of my sweatshirt and crossing my arms.

“Oh, come on, noona!” Jimin shuffles across the room and kneels in front of me, causing me to descend into a panic, “You like Hoseok-hyung, right? Well, what about me? Do you like me?”

Jimin peers down at me, pink hair tussled and eyes shining. How could I ever say no to that beautiful face? That angelic human?

Must.

Deflect.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. Why do you all date the same person when each of you could have anyone you want?”

Jimin deflates and sits back on his heels, frowning at my non-answer.

“But we do already date everyone we want,” Hoseok cuts in, giggling, “Well, almost.”

They’re already dating people? My mind wracks through all my knowledge of the seven boys sitting before me, but no evidence of them dating anyone pops up. “Wait, I’m confused. Who are you all dating then?”

I can’t help but feel like I’m on the outside of an inside joke as the boys all exchange looks that are all too smug for my liking.

“Seems like we did a good job, boys,” Namjoon chuckles, “People on this campus are pretty oblivious.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, “They just choose not to see it. They want us all to be fully available.”

The lightbulb finally flickers on in my mind.

“Oh my sweet baby Jesus,” I whisper, “You’re all dating each other, aren’t you?”

Various nods answer that question. Jin, of course, being Jin, wipes an imaginary tear from his eye as he dramatically laments, “And she’s smart, too? How did we get so lucky, boys?”

“Yoongi,” I say calmly, “Please pass me that soju before I commit murder in this very room.”

Without a word, Yoongi hands me the bottle before settling down in the space next to me against the wall.

Suddenly hyperaware of my positioning, I realize I’m sitting in between Jimin and Yoongi. Jungkook, Taehyung and Hobi now sit together on Tae’s bed, while Jin remains on the floor surrounded by various pillows and debris.

Namjoon is still leaning against the opposite wall, looking way too intimidating and perfect that I’m forced to look away.

That is, until he starts to speak. “(y/n), the seven of us have always been close. We grew up together; and, somehow, we just work as a unit. We work together. It may seem odd or untraditional. Maybe it is. But, it’s who we are. And it’s how we love.”

Namjoon continues, “We don’t want to lose what we have together, this dynamic we’ve spent so long building. But, we’ve been feeling like something has been missing from our relationship lately. We’ve been looking for someone to help complete us.”

“And you think that person is me?” I suck in a jagged breath, “You really want to share me? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“There are crazier things,” Yoongi shrugs, taking back the bottle of soju from my grasp, “Like how Namjoon has an IQ of 148 but can’t seem to live one day without breaking something.”

Namjoon, looking affronted, opens and closes his mouth, but ultimately settles on just smiling bashfully. My heart almost explodes at such a display of cuteness.

“It’s really not that crazy, (y/n),” Taehyung interrupts my internal fawning, “You seem like a girl who’s intimidated by no one and nothing. We really, really like that. And we figured since you kissed me and Jungkook that you might be interested.”

Embarrassment washes over me. I steal back the soju from Yoongi, who just smirks knowingly.

“Besides, polyamory is actually more common than you think,” Hobi smiles in that pretty heart-shaped way of his.

He has a valid point. Who am I to be the judge of what love looks like? Who am I to criticize these boys who clearly love each other and just want one more person to love? Who am I to deny myself the opportunity to be loved by seven people?

“Can I think about it?” I ask, still fighting the inevitable for whatever reason, “I’m not saying ‘no’. I just need a bit of time to think it over.”

“Take all the time you need, baby,” Namjoon murmurs, looking like I just handed him the keys to the entire world.

“No,” Jimin groans, burrowing his head in the crook of my shoulder, “Please, please, please don’t take all the time you need, (y/n)-noona! I can’t wait that long!”

I reach up to stroke my fingers through his pink hair in an attempt to soothe the poor angel.

“Do we have permission to continue to woo you during this ‘thinking’ period?” Jin inquires, casting a look of jealousy at Jimin who is now nestled even further into me.

“Continue?” I ask, “When did you start?”

“Yah!” Seokjin exclaims, “Why does she keep roasting me?”

“I think it’s hot,” Jungkook grins at me with stars in his eyes.

“That’s because you’re a masochist, Kook,” Taehyung cackles from his perch on the bed.

“Ah, hyung!” Jungkook jumps on Taehyung in an effort to silence him, “She doesn’t need to know that yet!”

“I mean, it is pretty obvious,” I pause dramatically, dropping the pitch of my voice, “Baby boy.”

Jungkook yelps and takes off out of the room.

“Shit, was that too much?” I ask, staring at the door thrown open in Jungkook’s wake.

“No,” Tae replies, still laughing, “I think he just needs a second to calm down. I’ll go see where he went.”

Taehyung gets up from the bed and shuffles out the door in search of Jungkook. The open door allows for more sounds from the party to seep into the room.

Namjoon sighs, “I should probably check on what’s happening down there, shouldn’t I?”

“Good luck, man,” Yoongi tears the soju back out of my hand and lifts it up in cheers to Namjoon. Chuckling, Namjoon ambles over to where Yoongi, Jimin and I are crowded together and grabs the soju.

After taking a long sip, he crouches down in front of me and grasps the hand that remains unoccupied by Jimin. Bringing it to his lips, Namjoon places the lightest kiss on my knuckles. “I’m so happy you showed up tonight, baby. I can only hope that my future holds more of you in any way you choose to give me.”

Pressing his lips to my palm this time, Namjoon smiles in that completely devastating way of his and then saunters out of the room. Still gaping, I realize I never even got to say a word to him in response.

“You are so whipped for him already, jagi,” Yoongi says lowly, lips brushing my ear.

I blink. My senses are on overload. Jimin is still curled into my side, with my hand stroking his hair and his lips accidentally grazing the skin of my collarbone every so often. Now, Yoongi is closer than ever. I can feel his breath against my neck and his stare focused on my lips. Meanwhile, Hobi and Jin are slowly but surely shuffling closer to where the three of us are bunched together.

“So what if I am?” I finally answer, “Aren’t you all whipped for him, too?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jimin mumbles into my shoulder.

My mind explodes.

“She’s not ready for that yet, Jiminie,” Jin giggles, “I’m pretty sure she’s still half convinced I worship Satan in the basement.”

“Well, I wasn’t before, but now I am,” I jokingly eye Seokjin up and down with an amused smile.

He grins back at me. I melt. And he knows it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jin asks, the slightest smirk curving his lips, a look of hunger burning in his gaze, like he could just eat me up, “Please?”

I swallow and his eyes latch onto the movement of my throat.

Before I can reconsider, I remove myself from my sitting position against the wall, much to Jimin and Yoongi’s dismay, and straddle Jin’s lap, immediately capturing his lips with my own.

The effect is instantaneous. Various groans echo around me as Jin smiles against my mouth. His hands find their way under my sweatshirt and squeeze my hips, dragging my body even closer against his.

The way Jin kisses is life-ruining in its unhurried, yet passionate deliberateness. He kisses me like he’s claiming me, and the possessiveness of his actions send a ripple of excitement through my body. Releasing my mouth, he works his way down the length of my exposed neck, and I gasp in response.

Suddenly, I feel another pair of hands twine around my body from behind as Hobi pleads into my ear, “Can I kiss you, too, (y/n)?”

I nod wordlessly, wondering what I did in my past life to deserve such affection in this one.

“No fair,” I vaguely hear Jimin pouting, “I want to kiss noona.”

“We’ll have our turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi’s voice causes a shudder of anticipation to race down my spine.

“Oh, she likes that idea,” Jin laughs, obviously having felt the tremor that shot though me in response to Yoongi’s suggestion, “Come get a taste.”

“Only if that’s what she really wants,” Yoongi says, meeting my eyes, “Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, kitten.”

“Kitten?” I growl, eyes narrowed sharply in his direction.

“Yep,” Yoongi’s answering smirk is slow and antagonizing, “All cute and cuddly with a hint of claws.”

“I’ll show you claws,” I say darkly, getting up, “Stand up.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Why?”

“I won’t ask again,” I move closer to him and Jimin.

Yoongi pulls himself to his feet, acting like it was the most physical activity he’d ever done.

When he’s finally done with the dramatics, I move closer until he’s backed right up against the wall, “Min Yoongi, I’m going to shut you up now.”

His breath stutters as I slowly move my mouth closer to his. “Please do—” I cut him off.

Kissing Yoongi is just as intoxicating as kissing Jin, but in a different way. Yoongi tastes like soju and spearmint. His body melts under my touch, completely fine with letting me lead. An idea springs to mind and I slide my hand into his hair and tug lightly. He jolts with a moan.

Bingo. I smirk before kissing him deeper. My other hand winds around him to scratch my nails down his back. This time, I’m awarded with a small whine.

The fact that I’m wrecking this boy is simultaneously wrecking me. That impact doubles when I feel a small hand begin to wind its way up my calf towards my thigh. Tearing my mouth away from Yoongi, I open my eyes to see Jimin smiling up at me, “Can you kiss me like that, too, (y/n)-noona?”

“Why couldn’t you wait your turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi sulks adorably, sensing that my resolve against any request from Jimin was nonexistent.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to be showing me the perks of dating multiple people?” I joke, “Jin and Hobi just shared. Can’t you two?”

Jimin springs up off the floor faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, “Yes! We can share!”

“Good,” I reply, turning in Yoongi’s arms so that my back is pressed against him. He hisses in a breath. “Come here, Jiminie,” I open my arms to the eager boy who all but leaps into them.

“You’re so beautiful, noona,” Jimin sighs, pupils dilated, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“So are you, baby,” I sigh, bringing a hand up to brush his cheek fondly, “So are you.”

I kiss Jimin gently, treasuring the feel of his plump lips against my own. I trace the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip and his mouth opens in a silent gasp. I use the chance to slip my tongue inside to twine with his.

Through my thoroughly fucked-out haze, I feel Yoongi’s hands settle onto my hips, grinding me slowly against his crotch. I moan into Jimin as Yoongi’s mouth sucks on the side of my neck, surely for the sole reason of marking me.

“Well, shit, JK,” Taehyung’s voice shatters the bubble of pleasure I had been residing within in the middle of four beautiful men. My eyes flutter open to take in the sight of Taehyung holding a box of pizza and a case of beer, with Jungkook right behind him. “Looks like the party started without us.”

Chapter Five

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House - 11:57pm

“Well, shit, JK. Looks like the party started without us.”

An hour ago, I would have shoved Jimin off of me and shimmied out of Yoongi’s hold. But, now? I definitely am in too deep to back down from Taehyung.

“Hmm,” I make a show of pushing my hips slightly against Yoongi’s as I turn to face Taehyung and Jungkook more fully, “Yes, it did. And you know why? Because you weren’t invited.”

Yoongi chuckles into my neck as my words detonate and land on Taehyung, who gapes in disbelief. “Don’t piss her off, Tae,“ I feel Yoongi’s grin against my neck before he places a quick kiss behind my ear.

“Yeah, Tae,” I taunt, “Don’t piss me off.”

“We leave for ten minutes. Ten! And she’s already got you like this?” Taehyung stomps over to his bed and sits in a huff, "Can I at least get a kiss, too?”

"Oh, I don’t think so,” I purr, “You see, only good boys get kisses.” Turning to Jungkook, I smile wickedly when I’m met with the cutest wide-eyed stare complete with bottom lip sucked behind his two front teeth.

“Jungkookie,” I shake Jimin and Yoongi off me and slowly turn to face the youngest, “Have you been a good boy?”

He nods frantically and gulps when my hand slips up his black t-shirt. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

“D-do I get a kiss, noona?” He asks in the tiniest voice imaginable.

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Kim Taehyung rages from his four-poster bed, “Jungkook was just thirsting over you in the hallway!”

“Shut the fuck up, Kim,” Jungkook growls, muscles bunching under my touch. I bite back a grin over how the boy’s duality really jumps out when he’s provoked.

“Hmm, is that so, Kookie?” My hand glides into his hair at the nape of his neck to pull his gaze back to mine, “Tell me what you said, and I might still let you have a kiss.”

“What?” Taehyung cries.

“At this rate, she’s not going to touch Taehyungie for 84 years.” I hear Hoseok say, snickering. Seokjin’s squeaky laughter and Jimin’s high-pitched giggles ensue. I’m also almost certain I hear Yoongi let out a low chuckle.

“Tell me,” I order Jungkook, who immediately caves like a house of cards during an earthquake.

“I j-just said that you were cute-”

"Bullshit!”

Jungkook shoots a livid glare over my shoulder at the blue-haired boy, “And, I said that I wanted to p-play with your nipple piercings… That I bet they make you look even prettier, noona. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, baby,” I say, stroking his reddened cheeks, “You know what? I think I just might let you.”

“Really?” Jungkook looks like his birthday had arrived early.

“Really!?” Taehyung sounds like his birthday had been cancelled indefinitely.

“Really,” I confirm, whipping off my hoodie. The various curses and groans reach my ears as I toss the hoodie right at Taehyung’s slack-jawed face.

“Fuck, baby,” Seokjin hisses a breath through his teeth, "You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?”

“Huh?” I glance down only to be greeted by my bare skin, “Oh, shit.”

“You came here. To this house. Without a bra?” A commanding voice sounds from the doorway, “Oh, babygirl, that’s a dangerous move.”

I face Namjoon, with my hands on my hips, nipples shamelessly pointed straight at him, “Dangerous? For me or for you?”

He cracks a slow smile, “Both.” God, he looks to die for tonight - black cargo-pants, tight black t-shirt, black boots. My eyes latch onto the silver chain clasped around his neck and wonder if he’d let me pull him closer with it.

An impatient hand tugs on mine. “N-noona, will you still let me touch you?” Jungkook diverts my attention from the depths of Namjoon’s dark eyes.

“Of course, Kookie,” I link my fingers through his and turn to address the problematic king on the bed, “Taehyung, move over.”

A flicker of hope sparks in Tae’s eyes as he immediately shifts to make room. I make my way over to the bed, dragging Jungkook with me.

“Jungkook, sit with your back against the headboard,” I turn to Taehyung, “You, no touching.”

“But-!”

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you stay,” I shoot him a glance, inwardly cursing at how tempting he looks sprawled out and gazing hungrily at me. Why did he have to be so insufferable?

Shifting to look at the boy practically bouncing on the bed with anticipation, I smile, “Can I sit on your lap, Jungkook?”

"Fuck yes,” he breathes out, tongue darting to wet his lower lip.

A completely diabolical and sadistic idea pops into my brain. I slowly walk to the foot of the bed. The room quiets as I lean forward and climb on the bed. On all fours, I slowly crawl towards Jungkook, holding eye-contact.

He swallows hard, eyes darting every so often to my chest. Finally, I settle onto his lap and smile victoriously at the thick bulge I feel there.

“So unfair,“ Jungkook sighs, tilting his head back with his eyes squeezed shut, "You make me so hard, (y/n)-noona.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” the corners of my mouth quirk into a small smile, “Now, do you want to play with me? Or should I ask someone else?”

Jungkook’s mouth latches onto my left nipple and sucks. His hand moves up my back and then eases around my body to cup my other breast in his hold. I jolt as he pinches my nipple without warning, a surge of pleasure swells from deep within me.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” I hum and grind my hips down onto his, craving more friction. His tongue swirls around my piercing, and my breath catches.

“Fuck,” I hear one of the boys choke out.

My eyes shoot open in search of the source and widen once I find it. Namjoon’s head is thrown back as Jimin kisses and sucks on his neck. Namjoon’s eyes remain heatedly on me as he murmurs, “Such a good boy.” Jimin and I both shiver as Namjoon’s words drip like honey off his tongue.

“Now, Jiminie,” Namjoon latches a hand through Jimin’s pink hair and tugs him away from his neck. The younger boy pouts. Namjoon ignores him, continuing, “Why don’t we show (y/n) how Kook likes to be kissed?”

At the mention of his name, Jungkook ceases his worshipping and whines, “Hyung, that’s not fair!”

“Not fair?” Taehyung’s indignant cry is immediate, “You just had (y/n)’s nipple in your mouth, and you think this is unfair?” I look over at the irate boy, who looks thoroughly wrecked despite not having even been touched. His light blue hair is a mess, red bandana long since removed. One ring-adorned hand is pressed solidly over the bulge in his jeans. The other is thrashing wildly in the air as he articulates his point.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon growls, “Enough.”

Taehyung wisely shuts up.

A timid knock breaks the tense silence. “Hey, Pres?” A hesitant voice calls through the solid wood, “We have a situation downstairs.”

“God-fucking-damnit,” Namjoon curses and turns to me, “(y/n), baby, I have to go deal with this.”

I shrug and reach for my discarded sweatshirt next to Taehyung, “I should get going anyway. My friends are probably waiting for me.”

“But Noona!” Jungkook’s grip tightens on my hips as I tug on my top, “When will we get to see you again?”

“Jungkook, honey, this campus is only so big. Besides, you all have my SnapChat.” I cock my head, “How did you get that by the way?”

“Well, would you look at the time!” Jin lurches to his feet, “I need to go get ready for bed.”

“Kim Seokjin, I swear to god,“ I shimmy off of a pouting Jungkook, "If you step one toe out that door, I will burn your plushie collection.”

“Yah,” he exclaims, “How do you know that I even have plushies?”

I shoot him a deadpan expression and point to one of the many pictures of Seokjin on Tae’s walls. This particular Polaroid displays a sleeping Jin amongst a plethora of plushies that all seem to be the same alpaca of some sort.

“Taehyungie, you little shit!” Jin sprints to the photo and tears it from the wall. Shoving the picture in the culprit’s face, Jin rants, "When did you take this? Why did you take this?”

“Last week,” Tae answers and shrugs, looking thoroughly unapologetic, “I thought you looked cute.”

Jin huffs, “Well, that’s a given.” He turns to me, “Please leave my babies out of this.”

“Don’t worry, big boy,” I grin up at his handsome face, “I’ll just think of something else… something much, much worse.”

He purses his full lips in a mock-pout. I melt. “Aw, you’re so cute.” I reach up and squish his cheeks together.

“Don’t fall for it, (y/n)!” Hoseok yells, spurring yet another argument amongst the boys.

“Honestly,” I shake my head in bewilderment, “How do y’all even successfully date?”

“I ask myself that every damn day,” Min Yoongi smiles up at me from the floor.

Before I can respond, another knock sounds at the door. “Come on, baby,” Namjoon reaches a hand out towards me, “I’ll walk you down.”

I accept his hand and stare as it completely envelops my own. Namjoon sees my attention and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

“Alright,” I call over my shoulder to the rest of the group, “I’ll see y’all around, I guess?”

I’m faced with six grown-ass babies with varying degrees of puppy-dog eyes.

“Remember to think about what we said, noona!” Jimin begs, “Consider going out with us, okay?”

“I’m not likely going to forget that seven dudes asked me to date them,” I smile wickedly, “That only happens to me occasionally.”

With that, I walk out the door with Namjoon and revel in the chaos I left behind me.

“Occasionally?” Hoseok cries.

“I’m going to do some recon. These rivals must be eliminated.” Yoongi seethes.

“Noona wouldn’t pick another group over us, right?” Jungkook pauses, “Oh my god, she would.”

Namjoon slams the door behind us and laughs, “You’re such an instigator.”

“You right,” I nod.

Namjoon and I trail down the hallway after the jittery pledge who had interrupted us. Descending the staircase, I survey the crowd below and fail to notice anything that would qualify as a ‘situation’.

Namjoon seems to agree. “Eric, if you dragged me down here for no reason, getting an infraction will be the least of your worries…”

Eric the pledge gulps, “Pres, I swear, they’re outside.” His gaze shifts to me for a split second before returning to Namjoon, “They said they aren’t leaving until they speak to one of you. Alone.”

I huff, “I can take a hint, Eric. This is obviously ‘frat business’ or whatever.” Namjoon hides a smile behind his hand at my use of air quotes, and I do not appreciate him finding my annoyance humorous. I shoot him a murderous stare before locating Luna and Jenni from across the room.

“Bye, Joon,” I salute him and turn to head towards my friends. I barely make it one step before his hand catches my wrist.

His mouth brushes my ear as he says softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” He gives my hand a squeeze and then disappears into the crowd with Eric.

Goddamnit. I had forgotten about volunteering. These boys are slowly but surely infiltrating my life, and I’m not at all sure on how I feel about it. My feet drag across the room until I reach my friends.

“Ready to go?” Luna questions, linking her arm through mine.

“Ready to be interrogated?” Jenni smiles evilly, assessing the mess that I am.

“Yes and no,” I groan, pulling them both outside. Starting our trek home, I field questions from both my friends. Somewhere far behind us, a girl shrieks something about being lettered, and I thank the stars that someone else has drama besides me…

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:45am

The infuriating sound of my phone vibrating with a number of incoming texts jolts me awake. Who the fuck dares to wake me up before my alarm? I grab my phone from its resting position on my nearby nightstand and almost fall out of my bed in the process.

“I’ll kill him,” I mutter darkly as I read the name displayed across my screen. It radiates an offensive mix of terrible grammar and narcissism.

Worldwide Handsome 3 New Messages

“This better be fucking good.” My fingers angrily swipe at the notification, opening the messages. I knew exactly who these messages were from. When did that bastard even get to my phone and add his contact information? How did he bypass my password? What kind of sorcery?

Worldwide Handsome 8:45am: “You up, beautiful?” 8:45am: “We’re picking you up in 20!!” 8:46am: “Wear something cute!!!! ;)”

(Y/N) 8:46am: “…Did you say WE???” 8:46am: Also, when and how the fuckity fuck did you get into my phone?” 8:47am: “ACTUALLY, NO – HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET MY ADDRESS?”

Worldwide Handsome 8:47am: “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

(Y/N) 8:48am: “You are NOT a magician, you dweeb.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:48am: “Abracadabra, bish.”

(Y/N) 8:49am: “I can’t stand you.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:50am: “15 minutes!!!”

(Y/N) 8:50am: “15 minutes until I strangle you with my bare hands!!!”

Worldwide Handsome 8:53am: “Strangle? Sounds kinky… I’m into it.” 8:55am: “I’m bringing you coffee. What kind do you want?”

(Y/N) 8:55am: “Did I say strangle? I meant *hug you tightly and shower you with praise*!!!” 8:56am: “The largest size possible, please! Black.” 8:56am: “I’ll pay you back.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:56am: “That’s more like it!!” 8:56am: “And don’t even think about it… Papa Seokjin provides all.” 8:57am: “See you in 10.”

Egad! I spring out of bed and get dressed at the speed of light, grabbing the nearest t-shirt and pair of jeans. Shoving my feet into my trusty work-boots, I stumble into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

‘Man, I look rough today’ is the first thought that pops into my brain as I look in the mirror; but I quickly correct that bad thought with: ‘Bitch, you look fine. Stop hating.’

Ever since I learned about cognitive restructuring in my Behavioral Psychology class, I have been attempting to practice it in my own life. The process of challenging my negative thoughts has been so fucking hard, but it’s definitely helped my self-esteem and stress.

Throwing my hair into a messy bun, I hear my phone buzz. Shit, that must be Seokjin. Who even knew why that fucker had decided to come along to volunteering with Namjoon and me. I wasn’t going to turn down an extra set of hands though… For volunteering purposes, of course.

Six subsequent buzzes demand my attention.

Worldwide Handsome 9:08am: “We’re here.” 9:09am: “Get your sweet ass out here.” 9:09am: “You better not have fallen back asleep…” 9:09am: “Don’t make me come in there!” 9:10am: “If you aren’t down here in 30 seconds, I’m drinking your coffee.” 9:10am: “(Y/N).” 9:10am: “THAT’S IT. SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR COFFEE.”

That last text has my ass in high gear as I book it down the steps and out the front door. Barely remembering to lock it behind me, I come to an abrupt halt as I come face to face with an all-too-put-together-for-9am Seokjin.

He leans against Namjoon’s infuriatingly gorgeous black Tesla looking like he’s about to shoot a cover for Men’s Health – Construction Edition. My eyes narrow in on the large coffee cup in his hand and narrow further when he slowly brings it up to his full lips.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn.

He sips it.

“You’ve just declared war,” I announce and stride over to him. Attempting to pull the coffee out of his palm and failing, I decide to take drastic measures.

Slowly rising to my toes, I act as if I’m going to kiss his cheek; but at the last second, I turn and bite his earlobe.

“What the fuck!” Seokjin yells way too loudly for the peaceful early morning. Victoriously, I grab my coffee, back away from him, and take a giant sip.

Yes, that sweet, sweet caffeine…

Seokjin rubs his ear and laughs slightly, “Babe, you’re really fucking scary before coffee.”

I nod in affirmation.

“Come on,” he gestures to his car and opens the passenger door for me, “Namjoon will have my ass on a platter if I take too much of your attention, and I know you’ll be heartbroken by the loss of such perfection.”

“You’re insufferable,” I reply, fighting a smile and losing.

“I know,” he grins and leans over the open car-door between us to kiss me. “Morning,” he murmurs in greeting against my lips.

I smile and kiss him again in reply. And then I remember my coffee.

Seokjin pouts at the loss of my lips as I take a cherished sip of the best part of my morning.

As I slide into the front seat, I hear him muttering about how he never should have bought that coffee. Grinning to myself, I buckle my seatbelt and look around the Tesla. Namjoon smiles at me from the driver’s seat, and I automatically swoon under the power of his dimples.

“Buckled?” he asks, as he adjusts the mirrors and flicks on the Bluetooth radio. The distinct sound of Kendrick Lamar fills the air. I nod and watch as he puts the car in drive, his muscles flexing.

His right hand extends across the console to rest on my left thigh and gives it a quick squeeze. I’m thoroughly distracted as I fixate on the hand that has now taken up residence on my leg.

“Hi, noona!” A chorus of two cries from the backseat. My body jolts.

“Ah! Stop, I could’ve dropped my coffee!” I steady my drink before turning to investigate the backseat that I had mistakenly (READ: tragically) thought would be empty. Taehyung and Jimin grin back at me from the seats beside Jin.

“Well, why didn’t you just bring everyone,” I drawl, raising an eyebrow at Namjoon, who just sighs in defeat.

“I mean… I kind of did,” he aims a glare through the rearview mirror, “I’m taking these losers, and Jungkook, Hobi and Yoongi are meeting us there. They refused to miss spending ‘quality time’ with you.”

“I’m going to kill someone,” I mutter under my breath, “Probably Taehyung.”

“At least wait until we exit the vehicle, please,” Namjoon chuckles, “I just got new seats.”

Habitat Worksite – 9:25am

When we finally arrive at the worksite, we step out of the car and head over to where Eddie is currently handing out tasks to different volunteers. I smile at a few familiar faces I see as we draw closer.

“(Y/n)-doll!” Eddie booms and walks over to greet us, “Came here with this one, did ya? And who are these boys?” He gestures towards my harem.

“Yes, sir,” Namjoon grins, quite unbothered by Eddie’s papa bear act, “A couple that carpools together stays together. Go green!”

I shake my head at his idiocy as Eddie splutters to come up with a response. “Don’t listen to him, Eddie. He’s full of shit. We are all just friends. Now, what can we help with today?”

“Yes,” Eddie clears his throat, shooting Namjoon dark look, “(y/n), I need you out front to help me orient a group of volunteers scheduled for one of those work retreat days…”

Fuck. The last group that I helped orient was a nightmare. They were supposedly here for a day of service and team-building, but all they did was fuck around and fuck up the siding. The men in the group refused to listen to my instructions on how to properly do things.

According to their mouthy ringleader, the fact that I had a pair of tits and a vagina made me incapable of knowing the tiniest bit of information about construction, whereas their dicks apparently came with an encyclopedia of knowledge on the subject.

I had almost decked him in the face, but I settled for placing a nice call to his place of employment later that day with an unsavory report on his behavior.

Eddie notices my glowering face and quickly looks away, “Namjoon, I need you to help out Matt and Paul inside to mix and pour some cement. The rest of you can follow me.”

The boys all give varying answers of agreement.

“Grab some gloves and glasses, you two. (Y/n), meet me back out front. Namjoon, Matt and Paul are already inside. They’ll show you the ropes.”

With that, Eddie beelines away from us before I can protest my assigned role. Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung trail sadly behind him, shooting jealous glances over their shoulders at Namjoon.

Namjoon ignores them and eyes my homicidal expression. He cautiously asks, “What’s wrong?”

“The goddamn patriarchy is what’s wrong, Kim,” I grit out through my clenched teeth and stalk towards the supply trailer.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he trails after me, “My mom says that toxic masculinity always ruins the party.”

“God, I love her,” My mood elevates instantly, “Please marry me so I can be her daughter-in-law.”

He laughs, looking through the bin of gloves for a pair large enough for him while handing me a smaller pair. “Where’s my ring?”

“You already have like seven rings. Pull an Ariana and give some away,” I hand him a pair of protective glasses, keeping one for myself. “Anyway, please don’t forget that you’re my ride and leave without me.”

“Forget? Babe, you’ve taken up permanent residence in my mind since Tae pointed you out last semester.”

“Oh, stop,” I dismiss him, waving the pair of gloves in his direction.

He suddenly steps into me. The my small of my back hits the edge of the makeshift work desk latched to the trailer wall. “You know, I’ve noticed you really don’t take some of our compliments seriously…” He looms over me, lips pressed to my throat, “I guess I’m gonna have to change that.”

Namjoon scoops me off the floor by my waist and balances my ass on the edge of the desk. My arms circle his shoulders on instinct and his grip tightens on my hips. When he glances down at me, he lets out a rough breath which sounds like I’m torturing him.

He kisses me, his tongue playing with mine, twining around it, enticing mine to follow. Gravity tries to drag me down off the desk and our mouths separate. Namjoon hoists me up higher with a firm hand on the back of my thigh.

His mouth slams back over mine, and I swear the way he kisses can be felt all the way down to my bones. His wide palm curves around my waist, pulling me further into him. “Damn,“ he pants, resting his forehead on mine.

BANG. A knock sounds from outside the trailer, “You better not be up to no good in there, you two!” Eddie’s rumbling voice jolts us apart and my head snaps against the wall of the trailer.

A series of obscenities pours from my mouth as I grasp the back of my head. “You good?” Namjoon asks as he lifts me off the desk and back onto the floor.

“I’ll live… barely,” I lament.

He just shakes his head in amusement, “So dramatic, babe. Come on, let’s go do some service.”

Chapter Six

Habitat Worksite – 11:25am

The rest of the morning goes by pretty smoothly much to my surprise. The group that I help Eddie orient is from a pub in the neighboring town. They’re so much nicer than the last scarring group I had to deal with, and they’re actually listening to my directions.

I’m pretty sure I have tears in my eyes as I supervise them cutting plywood like professionals – but that could just be the sawdust.

When I become confident that no one is going to injure themselves with the power saw, I recruit some other volunteers to help me transfer the cut wood inside.

As we walk into the house, I almost drop the plywood onto my foot. Jungkook is shirtless, mixing cement together. When had he even arrived? I stare unabashedly at him – The height. The build. The broad shoulders. The veined forearms. The ridged stomach. The tattoos…

Tay, the middle-aged mother of two helping me, follows my line of vision, “Oh my… please tell me you’re hitting that, darling.”

“Tay!” I hiss, my eyes darting around to see if anyone heard her. Sure enough, Jungkook is looking at us and smirking like he was just crowned king of the fucking universe. “I am not hitting anything, thank you very much.”

She makes a derisive noise, “I might be old, but I’m not blind. He’s looking at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

Jungkook hands off his mixing duties to Matt and saunters over to us, “Hey, noona. You look nice today. Do you need any help?”

“Not hitting that, my ass,” Tay mutters and shoots me a triumphant look as she walks back outside.

I roll my eyes at her antics and turn to Jungkook, “Hi, Kookie. What happened to your shirt?”

Jungkook blushes, “I may have taken it off, and then it may have fallen into the cement.”

My eyes wander around the room until they fall on a sad lump of fabric and semi-dried cement in the corner. My lips twitch.

“Noona-a,” Jungkook whines, “Don’t laugh!”

My body doubles over, shaking with laughter. Tears stream down my face as I try in vain to catch my breath.

“Is she okay?” I vaguely hear Hobi ask before I feel his hand run soothing circles on my back, “(y/n), are you crying?”

I straighten, wiping my tears, “H-he… cemen-nt… sh-shirt…” My cackles resume.

“She’s lost it, hasn’t she?” Yoongi enters the house with eyebrows raised, “It was only a matter of time. Jungkook has that effect on people.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook punches Yoongi in the arm.

“Am I wrong, Hobi?” Yoongi turns to the other boy, who’s hand is still firmly on my back.

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a dirty look, “Don’t drag me into this. The last time I tried to argue with the two of you I almost got a concussion.”

Jungkook smirks, looking way too pleased to receive such an accusation, “I seem to recall you liking it, Hobi-hyung. What was it you were screaming?”

Yoongi snickers as he leans into Jungkook, effectively teaming up on poor Hobi, “I believe the phrase was ‘harder, oh my god, harder!’” He and Jungkook collapse onto each other in fits of laughter as Hoseok turns an amusing shade of magenta.

I turn to face Hobi. “Is that how you like it?” I murmur, tilting my head to stare up at him, “You like it hard? Rough?”

Hobi swallows as his pupils dilate. His hand on my lower back suddenly clenches, crumpling my shirt within his fist. “Yes,” his voice comes out deeper than I had ever heard it.

Vaguely, I notice the other two boys have stopped laughing. Good. No one would tease my sweet Hobi in front of me and get away with it.

My decision solidifies. “Well,” I say, “Then that’s how I’ll give it to you.”

“No one will be giving anything to anyone until we finish this project,” Namjoon’s voice booms, breaking up your little moment with Hoseok.

The four of you swing to face him, blinking owlishly.

Namjoon’s eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Jeon Jungkook, for the love of god, where is your shirt?”

An hour later, I found myself stuck in the backseat of Jungkook’s black Range Rover. After Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook had loudly voiced their opinion in front of the entire worksite that it was their turn to drive me, I had quickly jumped into the car to avoid further humiliation.

Now, I sat wedged in between Hobi and Yoongi who both refused to sit in the front next to Jungkook and also forbade me from doing so. I only agreed because I was not one to miss an opportunity to be pressed up between two hot guys. Sue me.

Glancing down at my thighs, I marvel at the way both of the boys have placed possessive hands on them. “This is so lame,” Jungkook complains for the hundredth time as he glances at the three of us in the rearview mirror. “I want to touch noona, too!”

We ignore him.

Yoongi’s slim fingers dig in slightly into the softness of my inner thigh, “(y/n),” his hushed words ghost over my neck, “Come home with us?”

“Please,” Hobi echoes from my other side. His hand is more brazen in its placement. His pinky just a fraction away from the apex of my thighs.

Perhaps I could close my legs like the proper lady my grandma wanted me to be… but fuck that. I would woman-spread however I damn well please. “Hmm,” I pretend to think about it, “No.”

“But why?” Hobi pouts, making puppy-dog eyes in my direction, “You said you were going to give it to me.”

I shrug, noncommittally, “I never said when.”

Jungkook sighs from the driver’s seat, “Ah, I love it when noona is evil.”

“We fucking know, Jungkook,” Yoongi groans, “You only bring it up a thousand times a day.”

“Hey!” Jungkook whirls around in his seat, “Stop exposing me, hyung!”

“Eyes on the damn road, JK!” Hobi grips the 'oh shit’ bar as the car begins to veer into the bike lane. Jungkook whips back around and quickly rights the car. Meanwhile, Yoongi smirks like the little shit starter he is.

“Looks like I’m not the only evil one here,” I roll my eyes, “You’re a menace, Min Yoongi.”

“Yes, I am,” the boy puffs up his chest and grins that gummy smile that he knows makes me melt, “But I’m your menace.”

“Ah, gross!”

“Ew!”

Jungkook and Hobi yell as I try not to smile at Yoongi’s rare display of cuteness and fail miserably.

“Stop trying to butter me up so that I’ll come home with you, Yoongs,” I smile and thread my fingers through his.

“Why?” He leans into me, “Is it working?”

“Not at all,” I breathe, eyes darting to his lips as his tongue slips out to wet them.

“Liar,” Yoongi moves in closer. My eyelids lower in anticipation.

Jungkook slams on the breaks and jolts the three of us forward, “We’re here!” Grumbling, I pull my seatbelt away from its death grip on my body.

“Well played, Jungkook, well played,” Yoongi comments from beside me.

“Tell that to my fucking neck,” Hobi moans as he massages the front of his neck where his seatbelt must have dug in.

“Aw,” I take pity on the poor boy and offer half-jokingly, “Want me to kiss it better?”

“YES!” Hobi’s hand flies off his neck at the speed of light and thrusts his neck out in my direction.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he is adorable.

I place the lightest of kisses against the growing pink mark on his skin and revel in the shudder his body emits.

“Bye, Hobi,” I place one last kiss on him and slide out of the car, using the door that Yoongi vacated from.

“Bye, angel!” Hobi cries out after me, waving furiously. So damn adorable.

Once I exit the car fully, I am faced with a pouting Jungkook and an annoyed-looking Yoongi.

“What now?” I eye them warily.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a dark look, and the younger boy backs off slightly. Turning back to me, Yoongi steps forward. “Bye, (y/n),” he says lowly, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. A light dusting of pink floods his cheeks at his own soft actions. I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my innate reaction to shower him with affection.

That time would come later, I’m sure.

“Bye, Yoongi,” I press my mouth his cheek, “Keep your menacing ways to a minimum while I’m not around, would you?”

“No promises,” Yoongi drawls, before hopping back into the car.

And just like that I’m left with one tall bashful boy.

“Oh, Jungkook…” I walk towards where he is propped up against the front of his car. His lean body slouches against the hood as his left leg props itself up on front tire. He still has yet to put another shirt on.

“I’m sorry, noona,” he speaks to the pavement in the tiniest voice, “I got jealous that I wasn’t getting to be that close to you.”

I lift his chin up with my finger, “Baby, you were the only one who had my nipples in your mouth last night, and you’re jealous of them?”

He swallows hard before grinning, “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I give into the urge to trace the muscles of his stomach. They bunch up under my touch and I smile at his responsiveness. “You know,” I continue, “You’re going to have to get over this jealousy thing if I do decide to date you all.”

“I know, noona,” the pout returns, and this time it’s paired with a devastating pair of imploring doe eyes. “I just like you. A lot.”

"Well,” I smile, “It’s a good thing that I also happen to like you. A lot.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s neck snaps up at an alarming rate, “You do?”

“Yes, you giant idiot,” I grip the back of his neck, “Now, kiss me goodbye.”

He kisses me. His teeth pull at my bottom lip in a faint bite, and goosebumps spread across my body. I bite him harder in retaliation, but it only seems to urge him closer against me, body hard, warming me everywhere we connect. His fingertips drag down my skin until they reach my waist. His hands slide up under my shirt, and he rests his palms against my skin, fingers splayed down over my hips.

His hold is undeniably possessive. And that would not do.

I lean up and kiss him harder, digging my nails into his back as I tug him against me, feeling every inch of his body respond to my touch. A groan rumbles deep from within his chest.

“Do you think they’re going to come up for air soon?” An amused voice cuts through our make-out session.

Jungkook rips his mouth from mine, “Fuck off, Hobi.”

I open my eyes and blink a couple times before focusing on the smirking faces of Hobi and Yoongi. Their heads are sticking out of the open back window of the Range Rover as they cackle in amusement.

“Hobi,” I say sweetly, “Do you need another mark on your neck today?” My hand flexes tauntingly in his direction.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, “N-no! Bye again, (y/n)!” He retreats back into the car as Yoongi continues to chuckle before rolling up the window once more.

“You can mark my neck, (y/n)-noona.” Jungkook’s voice jolts me from my second thoughts on not going home with them.

This boy really is shameless, I think to myself as I shake my head.

“Maybe next time, Kook,” I grin at him, “It’ll give you something to look forward to.”

“For as long as there are next times with you, noona, I will look forward to them.”

My heart swells. “You’re such a sweetheart, baby boy.” The nickname has its desired effect as Jungkook’s cheeks blush and his smile widens.

“I’m baby,” he nods.

“Yes, you dork, you are,” I place a swift peck to his cheek and head into my apartment before I get any more tempted to jump back in his car and initiate a foursome.

God, what were these boys doing to me?

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 4:15pm

A few hours later, I am deep in an argument with Luna over who the best Queer Eye guy is when my phone buzzes.

[Unsaved Number] 2 New Messages

Luna notices my confusion. “Who is it?” she asks, leaning over to look at my screen.

“No fucking clue,” I reply, swiping open the messages.

[Unsaved Number] 4:15pm: “Hey, babe! It’s me! Namjoon!” 4:15pm: “Want to meet at Hannigan’s tonight? Just the two of us!?”

“What the everliving fuck?” My eyebrows rise at the completely obvious way that someone was poorly attempting to impersonate Namjoon.

“That’s how Namjoon texts?” Luna sits back, “What a letdown.”

“I don’t think this is even Namjoon,” I mutter and save the contact before swiping over to SnapChat. “Let’s see if I have this person’s Snap.”

“Oh, your mind!” Luna exclaims, running to go grab a bag of pretzels from our tiny kitchen adjacent to our also tiny living room, “That is some top sleuthing right there.”

“Why thank you, my good sir,” I nod at her playfully before focusing back on my screen. Opening the 'Add Friends’ tab, my eyes immediately hone in on the imposter.

“Oh, that little shit,” I cry, chucking my phone onto the other end of the couch.

“What? Who is it?” Pretzel crumbs spew out of Luna’s mouth as she ambles over to where I had just thrown my phone. She picks it up, turns it over, and lets out a long whistle. “Oh, fuck. What are you going to do?”

Luna hands my phone back to me, and I reopen the messages to respond.

Me 4:21pm: “Hi, Namjoon. I’ll meet you there.” 4:21pm: “9pm.”

It’S mE! nAmJoOn! 4:22pm: “Yay! It’s a date!” 4:22pm: “See you at 9!!!”

“Well,” I lock my phone and set it down on the coffee table, “It looks I’ll finally get the chance to teach Kim Taehyung a lesson.”

Luna springs up from the couch, “I’m calling Jenni. Let’s do this.”

Hannigan’s - 9:09pm

I’m nervous with anticipation.

Why?

Oh, that’s right – motherfucking Kim Taehyung thought he could pull one over me by impersonating Namjoon, and, so far, he’s nowhere to be found.

I grasp my beer tightly as I slouch lower on my barstool. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, I had set up camp in the corner of the bar. Luna and Jenni had immediately ditched me upon arrival, claiming that they were meeting friends.

I would have believed them if I hadn’t noticed that they just relocated to a table within vision of me and were scouring the room for any signs of Taehyung. I pull out my phone and once again debate texting him.

Fuck it. I’m just about to construct a text when my phone pings with messages from the group chat:

Bee Gang 9:10pm, Luna: “HE’S HERE” 9:10pm, Jenni: “HE LOOKS SOOOO GOOD KSKSKS” 9:11pm, Luna: “HOLY SHIT I THINK HE JUST SAW YOU” 9:11pm, Jenni: “TAEHYUNG IS LOOKING AT YOU LIKE YOU’RE THE HOTTEST THING HE’S EVER SEEN. HE’S GONNA FUCK YOUR SHIT UP I’D BET GOOD MONEY!!!” 9:11pm, Luna: “NAH DUDE *SHE* IS GONNA FUCK UP *HIS* SHIT” 9:12pm, Jenni: “OMG U RIGHT” 9:12pm, (y/n): “1) YOU BOTH SUCK AT HIDING, 2) NO ONE IS FUCKING ANYONE UP, 3) MAYBE THE SECOND THING IS A LIE”

I lock my phone and place it face down on the bar.

Looking up to see where Taehyung is, I immediately lock eyes on him. He’s slowly making his way towards me with people constantly pausing him to chat. Taehyung’s all smiles, but I can tell he is a bit annoyed. That strikes me as odd – I thought he loved the attention?

The boy emerges free from the crowd, and I finally get to take him in.

Damn, he does look so good. His tight white t-shirt emphasizes his toned stomach while his overlying black leather jacket makes his shoulders look a mile wide. My gaze drops lower and take in his black pants with a black belt cinching the waist. I have to fight the urge to grab it and use it to pull him into me.

He’s almost to me when he turns his gaze to the bartender and flicks up two fingers. And just like that two beers and an annoying but hot-as-sin man appear in front of me.

“You don’t look surprised to see me,” he says as his greeting, sliding me one of the new beers. He shoots a look at the group of boys occupying the stools next to me and they immediately make themselves scarce.

I arch an eyebrow, “You do realize I had all of your SnapChats to double check the number with, right?”

“God-fucking-damn,” Taehyung plops down in the barstool next to mine, “No wonder it was so easy to convince Joon to let me do this.” He shakes his head and glances up at me beneath his blue fringe, “You still came? Even though you knew it was me?”

I roll my eyes at his cute actions, “Yes, I figured you had something important to say if you went through all that to get me here.”

He blinks, clearly still caught off guard that I wasn’t surprised to see him. “I do,” His voice cracks and he flushes deliciously, “I mean, yes, I have something to say.”

“Okay,” I nod and sip from my beer, “So, tell me.”

His fingers fiddle with the label on his beer bottle as he begins, “I know I’m not your favorite person… I’m loud. I’m bratty. I know that. But I just have to know if you felt anything that night last semester; because, I did, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I know that you probably haven’t. It’s been killing me to see you with everyone else that I love, and I just need to know if there’s a chance you might want to be with me like that, too, and-”

I clamp a hand over his mouth. His eyes snap to mine.

“Baby,” I sigh, “Is this what’s been making you act out?”

Taehyung’s head bobs as he nods swiftly.

“Now, that just won’t do,” I murmur, my mind whirring as I think of all the times I had thought he wanted to annoy me when all he really wanted was my attention.

“Listen,” I continue, pulling my hand from his mouth, “I don’t know where you got those ideas stuck in your head from, but they’re wrong. I do think about that night last semester. All the fucking time, Tae. And, yes, you’re loud, and you have a tendency to be a brat… But, it only makes me more interested.”

Taehyung’s eyes burn into mine as I lean closer, “It only makes me want to teach you some discipline.”

I watch as Taehyung’s knuckles go white as he clenches his beer. Concerned that the glass might shatter in his grip and hurt him, I slowly place my hand over his, “Relax, baby.”

“You can’t just say things like that, noona!” Taehyung moans, shifting in his seat.

“And why not?” I tease as he takes a long sip of his beer with his head tilted back and his throat muscles moving in a way that made me want to do bad things.

I blink, “You know what? Forget it. Let’s just start over, okay?”

Taehyung bites his lip, “Okay, sure.” He gestures to the bartender for another round, “Let’s play a game.”

My response is automatic. “Alright, Jigsaw. What kind of game?”

“Just a nice harmless game of ‘Never Have I Ever’, (y/n). Nothing untoward, I promise.”

My eyes narrow at his way-too-innocent smile and his archaic use of ‘untoward’. “Fine,” I arch an eyebrow, “But I have a few stipulations.”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t, noona,” he scoots his stool closer to me, “Lay ‘em on me.”

Oh, I will, my inner hoe responds.

Out loud, I reply, “The game can be stopped at any time, and you have to explain your answers if the other person asks.”

“Done,” he grins, “Never have I ever gotten my nipples pierced.”

“That’s targeting!” I exclaim indignantly, “You’ve seen them, you prick.”

“I haven’t tasted them. At least, not yet,” his eyes squint at my boobs which are currently well-covered by a jean jacket. “Jungkook has… That fucker,” he mumbles under his breath.

These boys and their jealousy… I shake my head. How had they managed to stay in a relationship with all of this possessiveness they clearly had going on? It’s truly a mystery.

“My turn,” I grin, “Never have I ever dyed my hair blue.”

“This is really more of a teal-ish green, noona!” Taehyung tries to argue, and I scoff.

“Fine,” he relents and mumbles under his breath, “Should have brought my paint swatches.” After taking a sip of his drink, he switches gears, “Never have I ever wanted to date a frat boy?”

I sip my drink. He immediately demands clarification. I grin, “Those EXO boys are fine.”

His jaw clenches. Ooh, he does not like that answer.

“EXO?” he snarls, “Over my dead body.”

My eyebrow quirks up, “Well, that’s a bit dramatic. They seem like nice boys.”

“Nice boys?” Taehyung cocks his head, “Noona, those aren’t your type.”

He’s right. I push him further, “And what is my type then, Tae?”

“Boys that challenge you.”

He’s right again, but I’d rather not give him the satisfaction of knowing it. His ego is already inflated enough. I smile inwardly and say, “You think you have me all figured out, Kim.”

Taehyung surprises me as he breaks into a loud laugh, “No, not even close. But I’m a persistent boy so maybe I’ll get there one day.”

Just then I realize how close to one another we’ve gotten. Our sides are touching, and his hand has apparently been gripping my thigh for who knows how long. I stare at it, examining the adorning rings on his pointer and index fingers.

Are those fucking Gucci?

He must notice my gaze on his hand because he squeezes my thigh, and I smily at him. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Taehyung looks at me like I’m something precious, something divine. I want to shatter that image. I want to ruin it. I want to ruin him.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, noona?”

“Kiss me.” And he does.

Taehyung kisses me over and over. I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed it. His mouth is tender on mine, and with every exhale, he lets out the slightest moan, which almost seems like a plea for more.

He’s gentler than I remember. His mouth is warm and soft; his caresses are leisurely and unhurried.

I pull back slightly to look him in his eyes. They are dazed, unfocused.

My lips brush his ear as I whisper, “Be a good boy and meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

With that, I saunter away towards the back bathroom which usually tends to be cleaner due to its slightly hidden nature.

Knocking on the door, I strain my ears for any sign of a reply. Nothing. I enter the dim room and immediately catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My hair is everywhere, and I immediately grab the hair-tie around my wrist.

I pause, a sinful idea coming to mind.

A knock sounds. “Noona?” A deep voice calls, and I open the door, grab Tae by the collar, and tug him inside.

“Noona, you’re feisty tonight I-” I cut him off with my mouth.

I don’t hesitate as my mouth consumes his and my body presses him against the wall. My tongue finds his as my hips grind into him. He whimpers, and it’s such a beautiful sound.

After feeling him throb through his clothes, the thought I had earlier returns.

Stepping back, I grab my hair-tie and tug my hair up into a ponytail. Taehyung whines as I slowly sink to my knees before him, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Is this okay?” I question, gazing up at the beautiful boy above me, “Do you want my mouth, baby?”

“Shit, yeah,” Taehyung wraps my ponytail in his hand and lightly pulls me closer.

Does he think he’s suddenly in charge?

I flick open his belt before tugging his pants down. His cock strains against his silky black boxers and I give into the temptation to suck on it through the fabric.

“F-fuck, please, noona,” the stuttered curse comes from above, and I smile.

I pull his boxers down, grasping his cock and stroking lightly.

And, without warning, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. “Goddamn,” Tae hisses, fingers sliding into my hair. He pulls my hair-tie out and replaces its hold with his fist.

I take him as far as I can, blowing him and stroking the parts of his cock I can’t get to with my mouth.

“Shit, fuck, please,” he begs, looking down at me with wild eyes and a fucked out expression, “Don’t stop, (y/n).”

Stop? Never. The power trip is too delicious.

My mouth bobs on his cock as he bucks, trying to fuck my mouth. My hands grab his ass to control his movements as I slide my mouth off of him.

“Do you want to come in my mouth, baby?” I tilt my head to the side as one of my hands resumes its ministrations.

“Y-yes,” The boy gasps above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, I’m so close, noona.”

“Hmm, are you going to be my good boy, Taehyung-ie?” My hand halts, and he whines, his hips straining to keep moving in my hand. I squeeze him, “Well?”

“Yes!” He moans, repeating, “I’m your good boy. I’m noona’s good boy.”

“That’s what I thought.” My mouth closes around his cock again and sucks him hard.

“Fuck.” I watch enraptured as Taehyung’s head falls back against the wall, and then he’s coming.

His body convulses above me as I swallow ever last bit of him. After he finishes, I pull my mouth away to kiss the underside of his cock, his balls, the insides of his thighs. Above me, he’s muttering my name like a prayer.

“You can let go of my hair now, Tae,” I laugh, my voice slightly hoarse. Reaching up, I lightly tug his hold from me and slide my discarded hair-tie off of his wrist. Standing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and turn to face him.

He’s tugging his pants up and staring at me with a darkening expression, his nostrils flared. “Let me taste you, noona. Ride my face.” The tenor of his voice washes over me, tempting me with its rough words.

“You haven’t earned that yet.” I start towards the door, but Taehyung darts in front of it, effectively cutting me off.

“I just want to please you, babe. Come on,” his begging only solidifies my resolve.

“You already have pleased me, Tae,” I swipe a thumb across his cheek as he pouts.

“But I could please you even more with my mouth!”

This boy. I grab his neck lightly, “Listen, baby, I’m going to say this once. When I ride your face, you’ll be tied up across my bed at my mercy. Got it?”

His body becomes pliant under my words and my light grip. I gently shift him out of the way of the exit. “Now, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, my good boy.”

The parting smile I send him is absolutely lethal, and it only grows bigger when I hear him blurt out a grumbled “holy fuck” as I strut away from him.

Chapter Seven

Quinn Library – 3:54pm

The end of September passes in a blur of studying, partying, volunteering, and spending time with friends. The month’s conclusion also includes the increasing presence of seven boys in my everyday routine.

Since giving Taehyung the suck of his life in the bathroom of Hannigan’s, I have been basically fighting off the seven of them for a moment to breathe. But, sometimes breathing is overrated when being smothered by affection.

Going from being single to essentially dating seven people is quite the adjustment. I found myself growing attached to them – something that both excited and scared the shit out of me. We haven’t discussed labels or anything, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The boys have apparently been planning an elaborate first date for this upcoming weekend, and I feel like they’ll probably ask to make it official then.

My stomach erupts in butterflies at the thought, and I take a calming breath. No need to overthink such things.

While it might be unconventional by some societal standards, polyamory is simply a way to love. Why should love come with confines? With binary expectations? The saying ‘love is love’ gets thrown around a lot, but I believe it bears repeating.

Jenni and Luna have been nothing but supportive to me over the past two weeks. They even came with me to volunteer this past weekend because they - and I quote - wanted to ‘check out our vibe’. But, I wholeheartedly expect that the real reason had actually been for them to feel out the boys’ intentions.

Why did I suspect this? Well, because Jungkook had come up to me within the first fifteen minutes at the worksite quivering in fear over how ‘scary my friends were’ and how ‘Jenni had cornered him to interrogate him while Luna hovered behind her, menacingly holding a nail-gun’.

I had never felt more loved and supported by my friends.

My phone dings, and I quickly hasten to put it on silent, shooting an embarrassed and apologetic look around the library. It seems like most people have headphones in, and I let out a sigh of relief. No one wants to be that one loud person in the library.

Checking my notifications, I smile when I see it’s a SnapChat from Hobi in the group chat the boys created a few weeks ago. My thumb swipes it open, and I barely contain myself from announcing to the whole library how vibrantly handsome one of my potential boyfriends is.

I quickly send a SnapChat back of me and my stack of books in the library with the caption ‘send help in the form of coffee’.

Immediately, Taehyung sends a flurry of heart eyes emojis in the chat, Jungkook sends a ‘noona is so cute’, and Yoongi sends back a picture of a black screen with the caption ‘come nap with me’.

God, I would love to nap with Yoongi right now… Alone time with the older boy is so elusively precious. One day last week at their house, I had mentioned wanting to learn piano. Yoongi had just grabbed my hand and tugged me to his room. We had spent a couple hours together in the small corner of his room playing on his keyboard.

Well, he had been playing; I had been fumbling around like a buffoon - half uncoordinated in general and half flustered by how good Yoongi looked playing. His hands had been so nimble as they flew over the keys, crafting melodies I could only assume he had composed. His focus had been so fucking hot as he nodded slightly along to the tempo in his head, his eyes shooting over to look at me every once in a while.

My hand kink? Activated.

My willpower to not kiss the shit out of Yoongi? Nonexistent.

When Yoongi had paused in between songs, I may or may not have grabbed him by his shirt collar and kissed him. His blushing attempt to dodge me had been so cute; and when I had stopped trying to kiss him, he had pouted and then kissed me instead.

What a cutie…

A giggle draws my attention from my reminiscing. At first, I pay it no mind, taking it as a directive to dive back into my studies. But then, the whispering starts.

“I heard she’s fucking her way through the whole house.”

“Isn’t there a term for that?”

“Yeah, a frat rat.”

I slam my 500-page textbook closed and stand, leveling the duo of gossiping girls with a glare that could make grown men cry. It had before when I had to properly eviscerate my uncle in defense of feminism at our last family gathering. What a time that had been.

“Is there a problem?” I force the question through gritted teeth, stalking over towards their nearby table. I relish in the way they gape at me, eyes wide and pupils quivering, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my complaint jar is at capacity. Please don’t try again later.”

The girl on the right gulps, “No-nope, there’s no problem! We were just leaving. Right, Janika?”

“No,” The girl who had called me a ‘frat rat’ just moments before crosses her arms and stands, “I do, like, have a problem.”

“Janika,” The other girl tugs on the sleeve of the one standing, “Don’t.”

“Yeah, Janika,” I smile, “Don’t.”

I can see the moment she snaps.

“You’re, like, such a fucking bitch! I don’t know what they all see in you. Oh wait, yes I do. You’re fucking easy.”

I consider myself to be a patient person, but having to endure this type of rant against my character - and against women’s sexual freedom in general - has pushed me well past my limits.

“Now, listen here, Janika,” I take another step forward, “You can keep talking your shit. I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. But I really advise you to google ‘how to stop slut-shaming for dummies’ because it seems like you need a crash course.”

Janika’s face darkens, “Whatever. They’ll get tired of you anyway.”

“Yeah,” I let out an amused laugh, “I’m sure they’ll get real tired of me choking on their dicks every night.”

Letting out a gasp, Janika whirls back around to face her silent friend, “Let’s go. I don’t want to, like, be around her any longer.”

“Buh-bye now,”I wiggle my fingers in their direction as they shuffle out of the library.

Smiling in satisfaction, I head back towards my table. Without hesitation, I gather my books and belongings and head upstairs to the quiet floor. Any more distractions or confrontations would probably make my blood pressure pop off the charts.

The quiet floor, as one of my safe havens, is home to several small private study rooms. Peering into each, I start to lose hope that any would be available. Finally, the very last room proves me wrong, and I swing open the door and almost in tears over the sweet, sweet solitude.

This particular study room is tucked away in the very far corner of the library’s second floor. Not many people are aware of its location, and it seems that paid off for me today. Plopping my things down across the table in the center of the tiny room, I follow suit and drop down into one of the two chairs adjoining the table.

What a clusterfuck of an afternoon… This sadly isn’t the first time I’ve heard some comments being made about my association with the BTS boys, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Yet, part of me knew all along that this would be the trade-off.

After all, what are a few irrelevant opinions to seven gorgeous and loyal partners? Inconsequential - in my opinion. That is the reason why I haven’t breathed a word of the backlash to anyone.

Sighing, I flip open my textbook to where I had been before being rudely interrupted.

The amygdala plays a key role in emotion and behavior…

“Noona?”

I jump a half-mile out of my chair, slapping a hand over my pounding heart. Jimin had somehow managed to enter the room without my knowledge. Had he fucking teleported?

Holding a giant iced coffee in one hand and a cinnamon bun in the other, Jimin beams at me and ignores the fact he just scared the living shit out of me. “Hi, noona! I saw your SnapChat while I was in class, and I came here as soon as I could.”

I stare dumbfounded at the angel before me. Jimin is slightly out of breath with reddened cheeks and a sweaty brow. His black track-pants are slung low on his hips, his long-sleeve white t-shirt clings to his torso, his black duffle bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder. He must have run over straight from dance class.

Standing abruptly, I stalk over to where Jimin is still posted up by the doorway to the study room. Toe to toe with him, I blurt out while still half in a daze, “You really brought me coffee and food?”

He eyes me warily like I might suddenly jump on him at any moment. Shifting his weight back and forth, Jimin hesitantly replies, “Um, yes?“

I take the coffee and cinnamon bun from his hands, place them on the table, and then tackle him with the biggest hug. "You absolute sweetheart!” I murmur into the crook of his neck, “This made my day. Thank you, Jimin-ie.”

His hands tentatively wrap around me, pulling me closer. “You’re welcome, noona. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Well, I really appreciate it, baby,” My lips brush over the crevice of his collarbone and relish in his shudder. Bringing my head up to face his, I smile widely at him, “Can I kiss you, Jimin-ie?”

“Yes,” He sighs out, eyes already closing in anticipation. I press my lips to his, still smiling softly against his mouth. His lips are plush under mine, velvety soft. My tongue swipes across his bottom lip and— Is that coffee I taste?

I pull back, “Jimin, did you sip my coffee on your way here?”

The boy looks rightfully alarmed, “I– y-yes. But only a little, noona!”

Cute.

“Hmm,” I trail my fingers down his chest, “I guess I’ll make an exception for you this time since you were the one to bring it for me.”

Jimin relaxes slightly, but his expression is strangely disappointed. I stare at him quizzically, and he blushes.

“What is it?” I lean against the table, facing him.

He clears his throat, staring intensely at the ground, “You can still punish me if you want, (y/n)-noona.”

My eyebrows shoot upwards at his offer, and then I let out a slight chuckle, “Oh, Jimin… That would be a favor to you, wouldn’t it? My baby boy wants to be punished, hm? Did dance practice make you all hot and bothered? Jungkook tells me that has been happening to you lately.”

Jimin’s face explodes in color as he mutters, “That little bitch will pay for this.”

Suddenly, the door swings open with a resounding thud, nearly clipping Jimin in the shoulder.

“Your savior has arrived!” Kim Seokjin announces loudly in spite of the studiously silent atmosphere of the quiet floor. His hands hold two steaming hot travel mugs, which I can only guess are filled with the elixir of the gods (aka coffee).

Seokjin’s eyes glance around the room as he takes in the fact that I’m not alone as he obviously had expected. “Wait, Jimin-ie? What are you doing here?” Jin’s eyes flick down to the coffee and cinnamon roll that lay on the table. “Goddamn it!”

“You were too slow, hyung,” Jimin smirks happily as he takes a seat in the chair I had previously vacated. He slouches smugly as he stares up at the fuming older boy.

“Too slow?!” Jin roars.

“Jin,” I chastise, circumventing around him to shut the door.

“Sorry, babe,” Seokjin says while still glaring daggers at the all-too-pleased Jimin. Suddenly, his expression changes into a sneaky look that makes me both want to run and jump his bones. “Well,” He waves the two coffee mugs around in the air, “I made these myself - with love. I didn’t buy that generic shit; I brewed it, baby.”

It’s Jimin’s turn again to look disgruntled, and I can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Any and all coffee is appreciated and loved by me – the more the merrier. So, thank you both,” You say, taking one of the travel mugs from Seokjin. Kissing his cheek, you turn back to sit opposite Jimin at the table.

“She kissed me on the lips!” Jimin bursts.

“Park Jimin!” I cry as Jin splutters some sort of incoherent rant about fairness and equality.

Jimin holds eye contact with me, still leaning back in his chair like he’s the king of the fucking universe. But, he’s not; I am.

My chair hits the wall behind me with a bang as I stand, planting my hands on the table to loom over Jimin. “Do you think it’s fun to push your hyung, Jimin? Does it amuse you to be a little shit?”

I can see the moment that Jimin decides to be a brat. His eyes heat up in a challenge, and he firmly answers, “Yes, noona.”

“Get up.” The change in my tone is apparent. Jimin gulps. Getting to his feet, he stares back at me expectantly.

“Jin,” I address the older boy while still maintaining eye contact with Jimin, “What kind of punishment do you think I should give our Jimin here?”

Seokjin rounds my other side, grinning, “Well, (y/n) darling, I believe he should get spanked.”

“Interesting choice,” I murmur, turning to face Jin, “That’s what you’re going to get then.”

“What?” Jin squawks, arms waving rapidly around in the air, “But I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing is what you should have done, Jin,” I push him against the wall, “You know better than to let Jimin rile you up like this.”

Those plump lips of his pout dramatically as he whines, “But, (y/n)…”

“But nothing,” I say and then whirl around to face the other boy. He’s still standing where I left him with his eyes glued to the pair of us. “Jimin,” I hold his gaze, “You’re going to watch. You’re not going to touch yourself, your hyung isn’t going to touch you, and I’m not going to touch you.”

His eyes widen comically, “No! That’s not fair!”

“Do you want to be gagged, too, baby boy?” I ask, cocking my head slightly. Seeing his emphatic head shakes, I grin. “That’s what I thought. Now, stay.”

Turning back to Jin, I smirk slightly as I ask, “Punishment now or later?”

Seokjin’s eyes scrunch cutely in confusion, “What?”

“You see,” I move closer to him, my body brushes his, “I think you earned a punishment, but I think you also earned helping me punish Jimin.”

A wide grin crosses Jin’s face as he glances back at the corner Jimin is stewing in. “I would be honored to help you punish him, babe.”

“That’s what I figured,” I smile briefly at him before slowly sliding my hands up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck. Holding them there, I press the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips.

Jin’s breath hitches in his throat.

I run my tongue against the seam of his mouth, taking my time and savoring the sweet taste of him. His lips part to let me in, my tongue sliding across his. I grind against him as we kiss, moving my hips in such a way that makes him groan and lean back harder against the wall.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Ripping my mouth from Jin’s, I turn to face the newcomer.

Namjoon stands in the doorway holding yet another cup of coffee, his face thunderous. "What do the three of you think you’re doing? This is the goddamn library, you heathens!”

Seokjin jumps out of his skin in fright, pushing me away faster than I can anticipate. Stumbling back, I crash into Jimin – who apparently had ventured out of his assigned corner. Brat.

“The shades were open!” Namjoon continues to rant as he flicks the aforementioned item down to cover the door’s window, “Did you want people to see you?”

He reads the expression on my face correctly, “Oh, but you did, didn’t you, (y/n)?” Namjoon approaches where I’m still captured in Jimin’s embrace. Glaring down at me, he taunts, “So quick to stake your claim; but, make no mistake, they were mine first.”

Shaking out of Jimin’s hold, I straighten, raising my chin to meet Namjoon’s gaze full-on, “That’s interesting. I didn’t realize you were so lenient with your partners.”

Jimin makes a choking noise behind me. Jin stands behind Namjoon, waving a hand in front of his throat to clearly tell me to stop talking. I keep going, “Perhaps I need to teach you how to discipline.”

Namjoon flips me around, shoves Jimin out of the way, and bends me facedown across the table.

“Jin,” He says, his voice growly, “Stand in the hall and let me know if you can hear us.”

The sound of the door opening and closing alerts me that Jin followed Namjoon’s instructions without a word.

“Jimin,” He continues, “Hold (y/n)’s hands out in front of her.” Jimin ascquieces, staring apologetically down at me as he tugs my hands towards him.

“This is cute,” I say, “I always love holding Jimin-ie’s hands.”

Thwack. The stinging imprint of Namjoon’s palm on my ass burns deliciously. I arch my back, looking over my shoulder at him with a half-smile. “Do it harder, daddy.”

A breath sucks in between his lips as I utter the word I know will get him feeling as hot as me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby girl,” Namjoon grits out, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Oh, daddy,” I say, “Don’t you remember? I’m the fucking Queen.”

“Was that a chess pun? Nice.” A muffled voice followed by a squeaky laugh sounds through the door.

“Seokjin,” Namjoon seethes, flying over to open the door and drag the older boy back inside, “I thought I told you to let me know if you could hear us.”

I tug out of Jimin’s gentle hold, straighten back up, and then situate myself into a sitting position on the table.

I watch amusedly as Jin shimmies his way out of Joon’s grasp, “Yah! It’s not my fault I get intense FOMO. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Besides, I only heard you because I had my ear pressed to the door.”

Jimin stifles a giggle. I let out a full-on laugh. Namjoon mumbles what sounds like a plea to some higher power under his breath.

“See what I have to deal with?” Namjoon turns to me, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”

“That depends,” I swing my legs back and forth as I stay perched on the table, “Are you going to keep spanking me?”

The boy who had just unhesitatingly bent me over to punish me now blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, probably? You have quite a mouth on you, baby.”

Hopping off the table, I laugh, “Good answer. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“Woo!” Jin cheers, “Nice job on the House Points, Joon-ie!”

“I am in love with idiots,” Jimin sighs.

Grabbing my phone from my backpack, I let out a slight yell as I read the time. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I scramble to shove all of my textbooks back into my bag.

“What is it, noona?” Jimin worries, appearing next to me. “Are you late for class?”

“No,” I cry, “It’s so much worse. I’m late for my weekly Animal Crossing discord chat! Heath is gonna kill me…”

“Heath?” Jin scowls, “Who is this Heath you speak of?”

“Chill, fam,” I shrug my backpack onto my shoulders and stare contemplatively down at the three different coffees. “You can’t get jealous every time I mention a new person. What’s next? You’re gonna come for Tom Nook?”

Namjoon - who must play Animal Crossing - stifles a laugh as Jin pouts. “She has a point, Jin.”

“And so does a pencil. Big whoop,” Jin scowls with his arms folded.

“Aw, Seokjin-ie,” I coo, reaching over to pinch his cheek, “Don’t be mad. You’ll get to spend all day with me on Saturday after volunteering! What are we doing, anyways?” I level Joon with my best side-eye as I ask that question, knowing he is more likely than not the mastermind behind our planned date.

“It’s going to be great, noona!” Jimin pipes up, hugging me from the side, “You’re going to love it…You’re going to love us.” He murmurs the last part, probably not meaning for me to hear; but, I do.

God, I do.

“We’ll pick you up before volunteering,” Joon says, “Just bring yourself and a change of clothes.”

“What?” I decide - fuck it - and attempt to grab all three coffees, “No overnight bag?”

Jin, who had just taken a sip of his own coffee, spews it everywhere. “Pack one,” He gasps out in between coughs.

Laughing, I walk to the door, which Jimin kindly opens for me. “Okay, I’ll think about it. Ah, I’m so late. Jimin and Jin, I’ll punish you at a later time. Joon, you can try to punish me at a later time.” Living for their astonished expressions, I wave as best I can with three coffees in hand, “Bye, babes! Text me-e-e.”

As I make my way out of the library, it hits me that I only have one more day to prepare for this date. Fucking hell…

Chapter Eight

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:38am

I wake to the sound of thunder and groan as my eyes strain to focus on the rain pouring down outside my window. Hastily, I grab for my phone and scroll through my notifications. Yup, my friend Brianna - the president of the Alphites - had emailed to say that Habitat is cancelled for the morning.

What did this mean for my date? Swiping over to the group chat, I quickly type a message to the boys.

Queen (y/n), Worldwide Handsome, and 6 Peasants

8:40am, (y/n): “Yo, dweebs. No volunteering today because of the rain. Looks like our date is cancelled, too…”

I laugh evilly as my phone consequentially blows up with a series of question marks and exclamations. Just as I’m about to put a stop to the madness I’d caused, my phone screen darkens with the telltale chimes of an incoming FaceTime.

Not even bothering to shift out of bed, I swipe to answer. “Hi, Hobi,” I grin at my sunshine who looks a little pouty this morning. The metaphorical rain cloud over his head lessens marginally at my smile.

The puffy, bare-faced boy sighs and runs a hand through his wild hair. Obviously, Hoseok had just woken up, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.

“(Y/n)? Did you hear me?” Hobi chuckles, bringing my attention back to my phone. “You weren’t serious, right? Our date is still on? We have the whole thing planned! The rain doesn’t even affect it! And—”

“Is that (y/n)?” A cry of uproar sounds from the background on Hobi’s end of the line. A thundering of footsteps commences; and, suddenly, I am faced with seven slivers of faces all crowded together.

“(Y/n)!” Jungkook rips the phone from Hoseok’s grasp and takes off out of the room. The background blurs as he runs. Faintly, I can make out blurry figures giving chase behind him. “(Y/n)! Please still come over. We have everything set up! Saturdays are always full of noona, and I don’t want to break the tradition.”

Letting out a laugh at the fluffy haired boy, I smirk, “First of all, let me just say that I’m glad you don’t subscribe to the whole ‘SaTuRdAyS aRe FoR tHe BoYs’ toxicity. And second of all, you do realize you just gave away the date plans, right?”

“Jungkook!” The shout from what could only be an enraged Seokjin echoes across the connection.

I watch in amusement as the background once again blurs. As the feed refocuses, Jimin’s beaming face greets me, and I roll my eyes at the realization that Jungkook must have tossed him the phone. Probably playing a game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’ with their eldest brother, I assume.

Deciding enough is enough, I retake control of the situation with the tried and true method of the shock factor™. “Hey, I’m naked.”

Silence falls.

Then comes the seven pairs of eyes crowding the screen that I had hoped for.

Disappointed huffs resound from the collective as I cackle, trying my best to ignore their indignant cries.

“Noona’s not even naked!”

“Why, there’s not even a boob to be seen!”

“She’s got us lookin’ like boo-boo the fool, boys…SMH!”

“Jin, did you just say ‘SMH’?” The boy opens his mouth to respond, but I decide there’s no time to discuss acronyms right now. Shaking my own head swiftly, I clear my throat, “No, never mind. Now that I have your attention, I need someone to tell me what the plan is. Am I getting out of bed today? Are we still doing the thing?”

“You can get out of your bed and into mine,” Taehyung’s words barely escape his mouth before he is pushed out of frame by at least four of the others.

“Tae, are you trying to get your name added to my punishment list?” I smirk as two boys in particular gulp, “Jimin and Jin already have the distinct honor. Isn’t that right, boys?”

“You can add my name, noona!” Jungkook gasps out, lunging once again for control of the phone. He is shoved out of the way by Namjoon.

“Oh, my little Kookie,” I laugh, “That would practically be a reward for you.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your own punishment, (y/n),” Namjoon stares me down from the other end of the phone.

“I mean, you can try it,” I shrug, “But I’ll probably either like it or turn it around on you at some point. Just saying…”

“Sounds good to me,” Joon grins, his dimples popping out, “Now get your sweet ass over here so I can spank it.”

“Right now?” I double check the time, “It’s still not even nine fucking AM. What is this going to be? Some sort of all day extravaganza? Y’all better be feeding me.”

“Yah, do you know who I am?” Jin butts in from his small corner of the screen, ”You are in the presence of Worldwide Handsome Chef Extraordinaire Kim Seokjin! Of course you’re going to be well fed - both with my visuals and with food!”

“I have no words,” I say.

Jin forges on, “Speechless, eh? I’m used to it.”

“Could the two of you stop your gross flirting for one second so that we can actually convince (y/n) to come over?”

Yoongi’s scowl appears on screen as he takes control of the phone. Jin can be heard squawking indignantly in the background.

“Gross?” I raise an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying when you were teaching me piano.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Taehyung yelps.

“I think so,” Jimin answers darkly.

“Wait, what’s a ‘you feminism’ again?” Jungkook mumbles from somewhere in the room.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon moans, sounding completely done, “(y/n), I am begging you to hang up and call my phone so that I can actually let you in on the plan.”

“Bet,” I say, “I’ll call you in an hour. I’m going back to sleep.”

I hang up, abruptly cutting off their whiny protests. Boys can always wait. Extra sleep, however, must seized at every opportunity.

Sinking back into the bliss of my comfy bed, I smile as I flip my phone over and promptly fall back asleep.

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 11:57am

“(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)!”

“(Y/n), for the love of Jared Padalecki, get your ass up!”

Groaning, I wave Luna off with a limp arm, still half asleep. “Go away,” my garbled words prove to be futile as she pulls the covers right off of me.

“Your entourage is here,” Luna hisses, grabbing my ankle and attempting to tug me off the bed.

“My what?” I kick at her hold, “Stop going all horror movie on me!”

“You haven’t seen horror! Horror is waking up to the furious sound of fists pounding at the front door and thinking your dark past of downloading music off of sketchy websites has finally caught up with you! Horror is pulling open the door in just your Harry Potter onesie only to be faced with seven hot and all-too-put-together dudes!”

My brain slowly wraps its away around the meaning of her words. “Oh, fuck.” I launch out of bed, flailing around for my phone.

111 Messages

34 Missed Calls

14 Voicemails

“Good god,” I toss my phone back on my bed and stalk past Luna into the living room where my ‘entourage’ is gathered.

“Okay, what the fuck,” I cross my arms over my chest as I stare down at the seven boys spread out across our second-hand sectional.

“Noona, you’re here!” Jungkook springs up from his seat and tackles me in a hug.

“Where else would I be? I fucking live here,” I mumble into his chest, annoyance slipping away with each breath.

“I told you she just overslept,” Yoongi mutters from the couch, sounding very much like he was dragged here against his will.

“Finally,” I say, pulling away from Jungkook to beam down at Yoongi, “An intellectual. Now, what about the rest of you overreactive imbeciles? Did you just come over so that you could snoop around where I live?”

As I say this, my eyes narrow on Namjoon. The boy is inspecting the teacup I had forgotten to put away last night like it’s a new archaeological find. My words fluster him, and he fumbles with the cup before it falls from his grasp to shatter on the floor.

“I am so sorry!” Namjoon yelps. The rest of the boys look on with disappointment but not surprise.

“That was my great grandmother’s teacup,” I whisper, falling to my knees dramatically.

“Namjoon, your destructive nature has gone too far!” Seokjin yells, scrambling over to me. My face is buried in my hands as my shoulders shake. I can’t hold it any longer.

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Joon. I’m kidding. It was just a cup from Target’s clearance section.”

“So evil!” Namjoon whines, “I was so worried!” Shuffling over to the hallway closet, I pull out our dustpan and broom. Walking back, I hand it off to Namjoon before he can attempt to pick up a fragment of the shattered cup.

“Don’t even think about using your bare hands, Joon,” I narrow my eyes at him, “A trip to Urgent Care does not count as a date.”

“Noona,” Taehyung pipes up, “You should join the Acting Club! Did I mention I’m the president?”

“Oh, here we go,” Yoongi scowls, flicking his eyes over to where Seokjin is rapidly turning a concerning shade of red.

Mount Seokjin erupts, “You’re only president on a bullshit technicality! Fifth years can’t be on Exec boards, you swine!”

“Yo, Seokjin, I’m really bummed about that policy, and Imma let you finish. But, let me just say that if y’all don’t leave so I can get ready, I will avoid you for the rest of time.”

Seconds tick by. I frown, “I don’t see movement. Why don’t I see movement?”

“Well,” Jimin hedges, shrinking under my gaze, “We figured you could just come back with us? It would save you a trip?”

The disobedience in this crew would drive me off a cliff. “I guess I was not clear the first time. I am going to drive myself because: 1) I can leave on my own terms and 2) I can leave an overnight bag in the car just in case. Although, that possibility is slipping away by the millisecond.”

“Alright! Time to go!” Jungkook barks, herding the boys towards the door.

As they practically run out the door, Namjoon turns back to me with an arched brow, “No going back to sleep.”

I salute him, “Scout’s honor. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, I’m finally left in peace and quiet.

“Want to explain what that was all about?!” Luna stalks out of her room, “I need the tea!”

A full hour and a half later, I find myself in an eerily empty frat house.

“Y’all really kicked everyone out, huh?” I comment as I peer around each corner of the house. There is not a soul - besides these seven fools - to be seen.

“I mean, there are only three other people that actually live here permanently,” Namjoon counters, ever the diplomatic president, “The rest of the rooms are mainly for guests or if a member needs temporary housing.”

Humming noncommittally, I come to an abrupt halt when the dining room comes into view. All the furniture has been pushed to one side to make room for eight easels and an excessive amount of paint.

“It looks like a Michael’s threw up in here,” I marvel.

“Who is Michael?” Jimin pops up next to me with narrowed eyes. The rest of the boys file in behind him.

“My sugar daddy,” I deadpan, “He’s an artist.”

Namjoon cracks up, while Jimin pouts adorably. “I guess you know what we’re going to do now, baby,” Namjoon says, still chuckling lightly.

“We’re doing DIY Painting with a Twist!” Taehyung yells, “The twist is that there’s no wine. Namjoon said it could get ‘too out of hand’ - whatever that means.”

“What is everyone going to paint?” Hobi asks the room after a brief pause, “I’m going to make something for (y/n)! It’s a surprise.”

“That’s so sweet, Hobi,” I smile at the boy, “Thank you!”

Not a group to be outdone, the boys quickly affirm that they too had been planning to make something for me all along.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh, “Careful, I’m going to get used to y’all spoiling me.”

“Good,” Namjoon nods, “You’re learning.”

“Yes, daddy,” I tease, “Are you going to keep spoiling your good girl?”

“You’re not a good girl,” Yoongi laughs, “You’re a fucking force of nature.”

“Thank you,” I wipe a nonexistent tear from under my eye, “This is why you are currently my favorite.”

“What!”

“Wait, you have a running favorite?”

“How can I get to be your favorite?”

Five minutes later, the room is empty aside from Jungkook and I. The rest of the boys dispersed the moment they decided to make painting a competition for my favor.

“Aren’t you going to hide away, too?” I address the younger boy next to me.

“Why would I go anywhere else when you’re right here?” Jungkook shuffles closer to me, “Besides, I wanted to use a different canvas.”

“Ah, I see,” I nod sagely before pulling my long-sleeved shirt up and over my head.

“Noona!” Jungkook chokes as he takes in my slightly sheer tank top and the black bra that peeks out from underneath, “I meant your wrist!”

“Calm down, Kook,” I laugh, “I can put it back on if you want. I just don’t want to get paint on it.”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously.

He then grabs my arm gently, flipping it over so that the inside of my wrist faces up. His thumb brushes over my erratic pulse and pauses. “Are you nervous, noona?” His wide eyes stare up at me, “You don’t have to let me paint on you.”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” I say, brushing his fallen hair out of his eyes, “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

The boy’s cheeks bloom a bright red as he flashes me a small smile, “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

My heart swells as the cuteness that is Jeon Jungkook, and I can’t resist teasing him further. “Jungkook,” I whisper, leaning forward, “I would gladly share my door with you to keep you warm.”

“Noona,” He whines, trying to pretend like he wants to get away from me. I would rate his efforts a 1/10 considering his hand is still firmly wrapped around my wrist.

“The iceberg would melt because of how hot you are…” I keep going, arching closer to murmur in his ear, “Just like the Titanic, I would go down on you for hours.”

“Noona!” Jungkook yelps, “Stop playing with me!”

“Fine,” I pout, “But the offer stands.”

“You’re going to kill me…” He mumbles. Dipping his paintbrush into his nearby palette, Jungkook begins to etch the outline of what looks like some sort of flower onto my wrist. The strokes of the brush across my skin make me shiver - something that does not go unnoticed by Jungkook.

His eyes dart to mine, and I feel like crumbling under the weight of the adoration I find within them.

“Kookie,” I glance down, breaking the intensity before it consumed me whole, “What kind of flower is this?”

He mumbles something inaudible.

“What?” My ears strain to pick up the boy who for some reason decided to answer in the language of tiny.

“A tiger flower,” Jungkook turns away to grab a new brush, his hair failing to hide his flushed cheeks. I watch enraptured as he mixes the orange and white shades to get the end result he wants.

Returning to my wrist, he leans down and lightly blows across the drying paint.

“This is unfair,” I mumble as the boy continues to unknowingly seduce me. Or did he know? My eyes narrow as his gaze flicks to mine. Arching a brow, I decide to press him, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the matching tattoo on your forearm, right?”

“N-no,” Jungkook panics, eyes darting this way and that, “That would be Ludacris.”

Did he just— Not the time.

“Mhm,” I hum, ever the skeptic.

Jungkook swallows before once again resorting to tiny speak, “Okay, yes, it does. I’m asking you to love me, noona. Please.”

My breath escapes me in a whoosh as I stare dumbfounded at the pleading boy who once again starts to paint my wrist. Why is such a beautiful human lacking in adoration? Why does he need my affection when he has six other lovers?

“Why?” The question slips past my lips before I can catch it.

“Because,” He continues to paint, “I can see myself loving you for a very long time, and I just want to be loved back for just as long.”

The silence that falls after Jungkook’s admission feels safe and comfortable. His words swirl around my mind. And as he finishes the flower now adorning my wrist, I give him an answer I’m not even sure he had been waiting for. “Jungkook,” I wait until he meets my eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with you yet. I’m not even sure I know what love is or what it feels like. But I can see myself falling for you. And I do know that there is a place in my heart labeled ‘Jeon Jungkook’, just like there are six other places for the rest of you… Y’all really do take up a lot of space.”

I let out a little laugh as Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. I continue, “It scares me sometimes. How I might fall for all of you and get heartbroken seven times over. But, I might also fall for all of you and get seven times the amount of love in return. And so I’m willing to fight for that chance. Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, and then he whispers, “I really like you, (y/n)-noona.”

I lean closer to him. Our noses brush as I whisper back, “I really like you, too, Jungkookie.”

The smile I get in response is blinding, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m done!” Taehyung hurtles through the doorway, lugging a giant canvas that definitely had not been in the room earlier, “I call this masterpiece: ‘My Boo’.”

Gaping, I take in the massive canvas full of swirling colors and abstract shapes. It’s honestly overwhelming and a bit dramatic, but that is Taehyung. And I love it.

“It’s so pretty!” I coo, shuffling over to side-hug Tae.

He shyly hangs his head on my shoulder, “You really think so?”

“Yes, baby,” I nod, “Of course I do.”

One by one the other boys return to present me with their art. Seokjin presents a sea of rainbow colored hearts (“Get it? I see hearts when you’re around!”). Hobi shows off his technicolored sunset (“It’s how I feel when I look at you, (y/n)! Hopeful, but at peace.”). Jimin bashfully hands over a painting of two silhouettes dancing (“It’s us.” *blushes profusely*). Yoongi gives me a black canvas with a portion of lighter blue mixed in (“You make my world brighter.”). Finally, Namjoon shuffles over with a succulent plant in a painted flower pot (“I accidentally elbowed a hole through my canvas… This is my favorite plant, for you.”).

The boys also marvel over the flower that Jungkook painted on my wrist while the younger boy beams with pride. One of them mentions ordering pizza for dinner, and the room clears within seconds as the majority flees in search of a menu.

Namjoon is the last to remain, admiring the art etched on my skin. “You know what it means, right?” He murmurs, thumb tentatively brushing across the dried paint.

“He told me,” I nod, focused on the gentle caress of his fingers.

Namjoon lifts my hand to his mouth and places a light kiss. The motion takes me back to the memory of a few weeks ago where he first had performed the action. “I hope you know the sentiment extends to all of us as well.”

“Oh, does it?” I smile, “You might have to mark me to make it believable.”

“Consider it done,” Namjoon says before pulling me closer to him and placing his lips on my neck. What an opportunist, I muse as he bites down gently. His tongue flicks before his lips once again press down on my neck. Namjoon litters my neck with small kisses. I gasp as he suddenly returns to the initial spot and bites down slightly harder, sucking and licking at my neck afterwards.

“Joon,” I breathe out as he pulls back, looking all smug and proud of himself, “I will get you back for this.”

“I look forward to it, baby.” With that, Namjoon laces his fingers through my own and tugs me out of the room towards the ruckus being caused in the kitchen.

One hour later, the eight of us are piled on the massive living room sofa.

“I think I’m pregnant,” Seokjin moans, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “The father is Papa John.”

“I told you not to race to beat Kook to the last slice,” Hobi shakes his head, “No one ever listens in this house.”

“You get me, bro, you get me,” Namjoon extends his fist to Hoseok who fist bumps him.

I survey the room from where I’m perched on Taehyung and Jimin, one leg hitched over one of theirs. “I thought we were going to watch a movie?” I furrow my brows, “Or was that just a ploy to get me to stay longer?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet, “I’ll go get Titanic!”

“No!”

“Please, god, no!”

“Noooo!”

The crestfallen expression that crosses Jungkook’s face tugs at my heartstrings. “Aw, Kook, I really inspired you with my words earlier, huh?” His pouting intensifies as he stalks back over to his end of the couch.

“Never let me watch what I want,” He mumbles. Sensing that this is an often fought battle, I shimmy off of Tae and Jimin and head over towards the youngest.

“How about this,” I reason, “Let the group decide what movie to watch, and I’ll sit with you during it.”

“Promise?” Large brown eyes peer up at me. At my nod, his expression brightens, and he pats his legs excitedly.

Settling down on his thighs, I realize I have made a grave miscalculation.

My thigh-riding kink + Jungkook’s muscular thighs = chaos

As the rest of the boys argue between watching Die Hard or The Hangover, I shift my hips slowly to try to get more comfortable. Jungkook’s swift inhale tells me that my move wasn’t as low-key as I had hoped.

“Noona, stop moving,” He mumbles into my hair, his arms firmly circling my waist.

“Sorry, baby,” I mutter back to him, trying hard to reign in my thirst.

The boys finally decide to watch Die Hard. Minutes tick by as the movie I’ve seen multiple times before plays on the screen. I’m only half paying attention, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook isn’t paying attention at all.

His fingers have shifted under my tank top and are drawing patterns onto the skin of my stomach. “So soft,” He marvels, his words ghosting across the skin of my neck.

The effect the boy has on me is deadly, and I retaliate with one of the only ways I can. I grind my hips slowly down onto his. The heat of his body warms my own, the hardness of his cock becoming more and more apparent underneath me.

“Noona,” Jungkook moans, “You’re so unfair.”

I whisper back, “You started it.”

He scoffs, moving my hair to one side of my neck, and pauses. “Oh, what’s this?”

“Don’t even think—”

His lips descend onto my neck, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Insolent child,” I breathe out, trying to keep my shit together despite finding it so fucking hot that Jungkook’s mouth is where Joon’s had been just over an hour ago.

Keeping my eyes firmly on the screen where John McClane is steadily taking down a whole crime organization singlehandedly, I try in vain not to imagine getting double teamed by Jungkook and Namjoon. By the time the credits roll, my panties are a mess. I can feel Jungkook practically throbbing underneath me from being so hard, and I’m pretty sure my nipples could cut through glass.

“What’d you think, (y/n)?” Hobi beams over at me from the other end of the couch.

I plaster a smile on my face like I hadn’t just been imagining the whole room naked and engaged in NSFW activities. “It was iconic as always!”

The boys seem to happily accept my answer. Well, most of them do. Yoongi is staring at me with a suspicious expression. Damn, that boy is too observant for his own good.

“Well,” I decide to try to regain some semblance of self-control, “Where did I put my keys?”

“WHAT!”

“You can’t leave! It’s only 9pm!”

“You said you would would stay overnight!”

I roll my eyes upwards, at least this provided Jungkook an opportunity to tug a pillow onto his lap. “I’m going to get my bag from the car, you fools.”

The boys let out a collectively sheepish “Ah”.

“I’ll walk you, noona,” Jimin stands, making his way over to my side.

“Trying to butter me up, baby?” I can’t help but ruffle his hair, “Okay, come on.”

Jimin and I make our way to the front door where my keys lie on the entryway table. Grabbing them, I head out into the darkness of the front yard with Jimin trailing after me.

“Will you sit with me for the next movie, noona?” Jimin asks, running a hand through his hair as we trek towards my parked Jeep.

“What’s in it for me?” I joke, unlocking the passenger side door and grabbing my bag. Turning back towards the house, I shut and lock my car behind me.

“Cuddles?” Jimin answers, eyes wide and bottom lip poked out.

“Stop that,” I moan, moving swiftly past him, “Puppy-Dog eyes? That’s so unfair!”

“Is it working?” He races to keep up with me, “I think its working.”

“You’re still on my shit list, Park Jimin,” I whirl around, drop my bag to the ground, and grab the front of his shirt. Moving to a standstill with his lips an inch from mine, I say, “Or did you forget?”

Jimin gulps, his eyes dark, “I didn’t forget. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

I place the lightest kiss to his lips, “Good answer.” With that, I pick my bag back up and waltz back into the house. “Are you coming?” I call at the boy still standing in the middle of the front yard.

“Now I know why Kook says you’re mean,” Jimin shakes his head at me as he regains the will to move.

“You’re a fast learner,” I comment, placing my keys back onto the entryway table. “I’ll sit with you.”

“Yay!” Jimin cheers, “I’ll go tell Taehyungie!”

“What?” I screech after the boy’s departing form, “I didn’t know this was some sort of package deal! Lord give me strength…”

Rifling through my bag to double check I have everything, I notice that I seem to be lacking a sleep shirt. How is it that I could pack three different pairs of socks for one night over but forget a fucking shirt?

“SOS,” I call out, zipping my bag back up. Once again, the sound of stampeding steps is heard before the seven of them appear above me.

“Someone needs to give me their biggest and comfiest t-shirt.”

A brief pause permeates the room before all seven boys dart into action. Left all alone in the entryway, I let out an incredulous laugh at how completely whipped I’m becoming for them.

After a few minutes, I hear them congregating in the hall just up the stairs. Just as I’m about to go investigate, they shuffle down. Namjoon presents me with a pile of what must be a selection of t-shirts from the bunch.

“We all want you to wear our clothes, so we decided to make it fair and just let you pick one without knowing who’s it is,” Seokjin explains.

Looking around the room, I can tell they all think this is a magnificent idea. Meanwhile, I’m baffled why they think I wouldn’t know who’s shirt is who’s just from the style, size, and smell. However, I decide to be a nice girl and play along.

“Okay,” I grab the entire pile along with my bag, “I’ll go change.”

“I’m so excited!” Taehyung bounces up and down, “She’s going to pick mine. I know it!”

“That’s because you gave her your Ce—” As Taehyung tackles Jimin to the floor, I take that as my cue to leave.

Speeding up the steps, I make a beeline for Yoongi’s room, entering and locking the door behind me. My bag is tossed on the bed first followed by the sea of mostly black and white clothing. They know me so well already.

I examine my options:

A white Balenciaga t-shirt with “Europe 2018” embroidered in red over the heart,

A soft pink hoodie by Marques’ Almeida with long black silky drawstrings,

A red and black striped Raf Simons long-sleeved shirt with sewn-on patches,

A Fear of God white t-shirt with the iconic “FG” on the front,

A black Mastermind t-shirt with the brandname and a skull and crossbones emblazoned on it,

A black Celine t-shirt also with the brandname on the front, and

A grey long-sleeved t-shirt by Carhartt with the name in blue along the sleeve.

Making my selection, I shake my head over the careless nature these boys handle their extremely expensive clothing. I am almost certain that Jungkook had given me the only shirt of the bunch that was under $100.

Regardless, I fold the rest of the shirts before stuffing them into my duffle bag. If they all want me to wear their clothes, I will - eventually. Quickly, I change into my sleep shorts, tug on what I assume is Hobi’s shirt, and head out of Yoongi’s room.

Opening the door, I blink as seven expectant faces shine back at me. Six expressions fall as one lights up even more. “You chose mine!” Hoseok cheers, running to engulf me in a hug that sweeps me off my feet, “Oh, you look so cute!”

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“Why’d you leave your stuff in Yoongi-hyung’s room, noona?” Taehyung pouts as the rest of the boys try to pretend like they also aren’t miffed.

“Because I’m going to sleep with him?” I march over to Yoongi and hug him from behind, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Is that okay with you, Yoongs?”

The boy grumbles under my show of affection, but his hands come up to clasp over mine as they circle his waist. “I can live with that, I guess.” The eye roll accompanying his words is so evident even when standing behind him.

“You’ll pay for that, baby boy,” I whisper in his ear before biting gently down on his earlobe, reveling in the cute little squeak that emits from him in response.

“She’s still sitting with me and Tae during the next movie, though!” Jimin - ever the instigator - interjects as the group makes their way back downstairs. Yoongi and I shuffle behind them.

The eight of us decide to watch The Hangover next since that had been the runner-up before. Once again, I’m draped between Jimin and Taehyung. This time, I’m fully placed on Jimin’s lap while my legs are sprawled out across Tae’s thighs.

My legs had barely even settled onto his lap before his hands were on them. This time I don’t even pretend like I’m paying attention to the movie. I’m more entranced by the way Taehyung kneads his way up my legs from my ankles to my calves to the insides of my thighs.

Meanwhile, Jimin is snuggled into me tightly. His face is shoved into the crook of my neck, and I honestly think he might be sound asleep. With each breath, Jimin’s pillowy lips brush my collarbone. I couldn’t tell if this is my own personal heaven or hell.

Looking up, I meet the dark gaze of Min Yoongi once again. Neither of us break eye contact as I try to read the look on his face and his body language.

He is either: 1) pissed off by something I did, 2) turned on by something I did, or 3) all of the above.

My hunch is the third. Testing that theory, I slide my tongue across my bottom lip. Sure enough, his eyes track the motion instantly before returning to mine. Bing-pot.

The movies seems to take way longer than it’s hour and forty-something minutes. I blame the combination of my sexual frustration and the varying degrees of awareness of it from the boys.

As soon as the credits roll, I extract myself from the holds that Jimin and Tae had on me. “I’m tired,” I lie.

“Aw,” Seokjin hurries over to me and sweeps me into a tight hug, “Get some beauty sleep, darling. Because, in the morning, I’m making pancakes!”

I place a swift kiss to his cheek, “Sounds perfect.”

I bid the rest of the boys goodnight with similar affections. Slowly, I make my way over to the stairs, knowing that Yoongi is trailing after me closely.

Making sure to put an extra swing in my hips, I climb up the staircase like I was getting paid to do it. Finally, I enter Yoongi’s room, turn to face the boy it belonged to, and tug him inside.

“What the fuck, Min Yoongi,” I hiss before closing the door behind him and shoving him against it.

“What?”

He has the audacity— I take a calming breath.

“You eye-fuck me throughout the entire movie and ask me ‘what’?” My hands curl into the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile makes its way across Yoongi’s face as my glower intensifies, “You can’t expect me not to think about that after you announce to everyone that you’re sleeping with me.”

“I didn’t mean literally, you buffoon,” I groan, turning away to head towards the bed.

Yoongi grabs my hips, halting me in place. “I know. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about what it would be like with you. What it would be like to be selfish with you.”

“You want to be selfish with me?” I ask softly, “What does that mean?”

“It means that I know that Tae was the first to get your mouth, but I want to be the first to give you mine.”

Yoongi’s words steal the breath from my lungs and the chill from my very soul. I gasp out, “You want to taste me, baby? That’s what you want?”

“More than anything,” Yoongi groans, pushing his hips into mine. “Please, (y/n), I’ll do anything to put my mouth on you.”

I pull away from Yoongi so that I can face him. His pupils are blown out, his hair is messy, and his expression is devastating with its pleading look. After being teased by so many of the others for the whole evening, he looks like my salvation.

“Okay,” I nod, lying down with my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. “Do your worst. No, not the time for that expression. Do your best. Please.”

Chuckling, Yoongi sinks to his knees before me, running his hands up my legs and resting on the hem of my shorts. He sends me an asking look, and I nod. His fingers shake slightly as he pulls off my shorts.

Left in nothing but pair of lacy red boy-briefs, I shiver in anticipation as I feel Yoongi slip a tentative finger underneath the remaining material.

“Fuck,” He groans, sliding his finger up and down my folds, “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Well, do something about it,” I command, moving my hips up so that he might get the hint to take of my underwear. His finger slides out from underneath them and he doesn’t even hesitate before sucking it into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” I hiss, getting more and more impatient.

Yoongi pulls his finger out of his mouth, “Sorry, (y/n), I just want to savor this moment.”

“You can savor my pussy with your mouth,” I say, “Or are you all talk, Min Yo—”

Quicker than I can comprehend, Yoongi slides my panties to the side and licks a stripe up my folds. I moan as he sucks and licks at my pussy like a man possessed.

“Fuck,” I grab his hair and tug him closer, feeling him moan into me.

The build up of tension and frustration from being surrounded by these boys for the entire day has me on the brink of orgasm already.

Yoongi’s mouth closes over my clit, circling it with his tongue and flicking it slowly.

“More, Yoongi,” I demand.

He listens. Still worshipping my clit, Yoongi slips a finger inside me, curling it in such a practiced way I could scream.

He adds a second. Yoongi’s fingers thrust in and out of me as his tongue continues to taste and tease my pussy.

When he hits a certain spot in me, I moan his name, and I swear he growls. Repeatedly, his fingers hit that same spot inside me and I’m panting, trying my hardest not to come. Not yet.

“Harder!” I moan. Again, Yoongi follows like a good boy, his fingers and tongue picking up the pace.

Pausing to pull my legs over his shoulders, Yoongi meets my eyes. The pinkness of his lips glisten with my juices as he sighs, “I think you might be my new favorite meal.”

Before I can even respond, his resumes wrecking me. He fucks me with his fingers, grabbing at my ass with his free hand.

His mouth devours my pussy, wreaking havoc on my clit with every flick of his tongue.

My thighs quake as my battle to hold off coming becomes too much to endure. My back arches as the pleasure builds up with each quick stroke of his tongue and every movement of his fingers.

As if he knows exactly how to ruin me forever, Yoongi sucks on my clit harshly, and I come, my thighs trapping him between them. Despite it all, Yoongi continues to fuck me, lapping up everything like a starving man.

Soon, the overstimulation hits and I relax my thighs. Pulling his hair, I murmur, “Stop.”

Yoongi obeys.

“Come here,” I sit up, extending an arm out to him. He shuffles forward and when he is within reach I launch myself at him. Kissing him fiercely, I taste myself on his tongue.

“That was so good, baby,” I reach my hand up to stroke his flushed cheek. “Do you want me to help you out?”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, “I would rather eat you out again.”

“You’re insatiable!” I cry, tugging out of his hold. “We’ll see…”

TO BE CONTINUED...

#luxekook #kings of campus #compilation post #tumblr plz fix my links #im gon cry

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satorisa · 3 years

Text

Falling: Chapter 3 - In Which the Boys Have the Best Sleepover Ever

Rating: T

Summary: "I wanna forget all this burden in my past."

Alternate Reading: AO3

Because the best sleepovers involve watching Studio Ghibli movies, right?

With the May holidays coming up, Daisuke’s parents planned to go out of town to visit their college friends. Grandpa Daiki had left for Italy about a week earlier with a close friend to enjoy wood-fired pizzas, lemons the size of his face, and the beautiful, Sicilian breeze. And so, until Grandpa Daiki returned to Japan the Monday of the holiday week, it was unanimously decided that Daisuke would spend the weekend at the Saehara household.

“What’s the occasion?” Risa asked when she saw the duffel bag Daisuke had that Friday morning. “Running away from home?”

Daisuke nearly protested when Takeshi swooped in, wrapping his arm around Daisuke’s shoulder. “Nope! He’s sleeping over at my place for the weekend! Are ya—” Takeshi began to bounce his eyebrows. “—jealous?”

Risa laughed. “Jealous? Of not being invited to your ham fest? Puh-lease.”

Satoshi appeared on the other side of Daisuke and silently waved at Risa. She returned the gesture.

“Congrats on waking up early again, Hiwatari-kun. You’ve been on a roll lately.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Risa asked with a grin, “what do you guys have planned for your super special sleepover?”

“I think we’re baking this evening,” Daisuke answered. “Then we’re marathoning Studio Ghibli films.”

“Absolute classics,” Takeshi interjected.

“Tomorrow, we’re taking Satoshi out to buy some clothes and…uh…spend the rest of the evening talking until we fall asleep.”

“For our brotherhood,” Takeshi interjected again.

“And then we’ll spend the rest of Sunday watching Studio Ghibli movies until we pass out.”

Risa blinked before she started laughing. “Actually, I take that back. I’m a little jealous I’m not invited.”

“You can’t sleep over, of course, but you’re free to join us!” Takeshi said, excitement dripping with each syllable.

She just smiled. “I’ll let you know if I can.”

…

Since Risa had lunch plans with Ritsuko that day, the boys decided to eat in Daisuke’s classroom. They needed to meet up before they headed home for the weekend to prepare themselves for Risa’s potential company.

“Boys,” Takeshi said as he sat down, “I shot my shot.”

“Congrats,” Daisuke said as he unwrapped his bread.

“Did you have to invite her over?” Satoshi grumbled, digging into the bento Takeshi packed for them that morning.

“Look, I get that you’ve got issues, but what’s the worst thing that could happen? Is she gonna try to get you alone to finagle information about Dark from you?”

Satoshi looked at Takeshi straight in the eye and knocked on the desk. Takeshi broke out in raucous laugher, and both Takeshi and Daisuke knocked on the desks they sat at in solidarity.

“I don’t think she’ll do that, though,” Daisuke reassured. “I think she was genuinely interested in what we’re actually doing.”

“I know,” Takeshi said with a smug smile. “She was hooked the moment you said we’re baking later.”

“Don’t tell me you tailored this weekend just for her,” Satoshi said.

“What little faith do you have in me?” Takeshi feigned offence. “I tailored this weekend just for you.”

Satoshi shrugged. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Takeshi shot him a quick glare before downing several large bites of his lunch. He chased it with water and, after a loud burp, he met both Daisuke’s and Satoshi’s gazes.

“Alrighty boys, let’s set some ground rules for this weekend if we so happen to find ourselves in Harada-imouto’s presence.” He raised a finger. “1) We do not joke about or discuss my crush on her around her. If she finds out, you are dead to me.” He raised another finger. “2) Satoshi is not to be left alone with her at all. For his safety. And, uh—” Takeshi put his hand down. “—that’s about it.”

“Um…I think I need to add one more rule,” Daisuke said.

“Aight. Add away.”

“3) Risa-chan cannot be left alone with me, either.”

Satoshi focused on his bento, picking at the eggs with his chopsticks. Takeshi leaned in, eyes glistening with curiosity.

“What secrets are you hiding from me, oh dear best friend?”

…

One of the underclassmen from the art club caught Satoshi on the way to the shoe lockers, so Takeshi went ahead while Satoshi talked to them. They quickly chatted about the en plein air social the club had planned during the holidays before going on their merry way with an enthusiastic farewell.

Those cute underclassmen of his were starting to grow on him.

After he switched his shoes out, he spotted Takeshi and Daisuke waiting by the entrance. He expected to leave with them to enjoy a fun evening with the boys when a familiar pink ribbon came into his field of vision.

“Hey, guys!” Risa greeted while Ritsuko, who trailed behind her, waved. “My parents said I could come over for some baked goods this evening! Mind if Ritsuko tags along?”

“The more, the merrier!” Takeshi said. “Welcome aboard the fun train, Fukuda!”

“I’m just here to steal your recipe for Valentine’s Day.”

He laughed, and the group was about to head out when Satoshi’s phone rang. He saw Inspector Saehara’s caller ID and picked up.

“Sorry to ruin yer plans and all, but somethin’ urgent just popped up that needs to be done ASAP.”

“Is it more urgent than baking?”

“I know you’re upset, Satoshi, but—”

“I’m telling Saehara-san that you called me in for work and ruined my youthful sleepover.”

“Satoshi, please don’t call—”

He hung up. The group looked at him in awe.

“Sorry, but something came up at the station. Have fun for me.”

…

Inspected Saehara locked the door to the office behind him. Satoshi glared at the older man, and he just guffawed.

“I’m really sorry, Satoshi.”

Fuming, he ignored Inspector Saehara’s apology and marched back home without him. When he arrived, Risa and Ritsuko were long gone. A half-eaten cake sat on the table, and Takeshi and Daisuke were playing a video game in the living room.

They looked away from the TV and, instead of greeting him, they started laughing at him for being a young professional. Satoshi’s eyebrows furrowed more as he ignored them, chucking his school bag at the sofa (narrowly missing Takeshi) before helping himself to some cake.

Plate in hand, Satoshi sat on the floor by Daisuke before having a bite. (Dark chocolate with ganache. Delectably moist, decadently rich and, most importantly, not too sweet.)

He watched them play while eating his cake, purposefully ignoring Inspector Saehara when he finally arrived with dinner. They all gathered in the living room, digging into the fried chicken as they began their movie marathon. They watched Princess Mononoke first since it was Inspector Saehara’s favorite film from the Studio Ghibli collection but, when the old man began to snore halfway through, Takeshi banished him to the master bedroom, and his muffled snores accompanied Joe Hisaishi’s ethereal score until the movie ended.

Daisuke ducked into the downstairs bathroom to get ready for bed in case he fell asleep while watching the movies, so Satoshi went upstairs to change and freshen up when he saw a text from Risa.

She sent him a picture from earlier; the girls stood to the left, guys on the right, as they framed the cake in the middle. The message underneath read: “had lots of fun earlier! hope we can do this again soon!”

Satoshi blinked, wondering what prompted Risa to text him. They only ever messaged each other to confirm plans with the group or to find each other in crowds: general housekeeping more than anything.

Satoshi: Did Fukuda steal the recipe?

Risa: yup! she’s got it stashed away on her phone! :)

He wondered what possessed him to message her, but the speed at which she replied with was astounding. His phone pinged again, and he saw another text from her.

Risa: how’s the movie marathon?

Satoshi: We just finished watching Princess Mononoke.

Risa: good choice! wish I could’ve stayed longer to watch with you guys :(

Satoshi: You’re still welcome to join us on Sunday if you’d like.

Risa: i’ll see if i can! thanks for the invite, hiwatari-kun!”

Satoshi sat at his desk, focused on his phone. And when Risa no longer responded, he left his phone on his desk to charge before heading downstairs. Daisuke was still taking a shower, but Takeshi was in the kitchen making hot cocoa.

When Takeshi saw Satoshi, he pulled him into a hug.

“Bro, thank you for inviting Risa over on Sunday.”

…

The boys breezed through more of the Studio Ghibli catalogue, getting through Castle in the Sky, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, until they began to fall asleep while watching Porco Rosso. Takeshi leaned on Satoshi’s left shoulder, snoring at a tolerable volume and occasionally mumbling something in gibberish. Daisuke leaned on Satoshi’s right shoulder, cheek smushed into Satoshi’s upper arm while he hung onto Satoshi’s appendage like a sloth.

And Satoshi, enamored by the Studio Ghibli magic that gave life to a story about a pilot-turned-pig in the Adriatic Sea, watched on. And only when the credits began, with its calming music, did Satoshi join his friends.

…

Satoshi woke up to hear something sizzling on the stove. He rubbed his eyes awake before sitting up on the sofa. The blanket that covered him rolled off his chest as the cool air from the AC hit him, and he saw Takeshi and Daisuke in the kitchen.

(Inspector Saehara was not in the kitchen, but Satoshi picked out his snores from the room in the lulls of the sound of breakfast.)

When he finally came to, he joined the duo. He silently greeted them while he began to make coffee, filling up the kettle for some hot water.

Satoshi stood separated from the bustle in the kitchen, watching the kettle while Takeshi and Daisuke made small talk. Only when the kettle clicked did Satoshi move as he began to grind the coffee beans. He made enough coffee for Inspector Saehara to have his daily two cups and poured some out for the boys before joining them at the table.

“Dude, Satoshi’s coffee is to die for.”

Daisuke laughed before taking a sip. His face lit up, surprised, before he took another sip. “Wow, this is great! Thanks, Satoshi!”

He just nodded. Silent.

Even though he hadn’t said a word all morning, the guys didn’t force him to join their conversation. They let him be, just like he wanted, as he relished in this moment.

After they said their thanks, they dug into the breakfast. And while Satoshi silently ate, listening to Takeshi and Daisuke talk about the most menial of things, Satoshi genuinely wished that they could do this again.

…

Commissioner Hiwatari never took Satoshi out to shop for clothes. He would come home with items that somehow always fit but were always more fashionable than comfortable or practical. (And, if Satoshi had to be honest, he hated everything Commissioner Hiwatari bought him.)

Satoshi thought Takeshi would take him to a Uniqlo or SHIPS, but the trio found themselves in front of the department store.

“…with what money are we buying my clothes?” Satoshi asked, adjusting the tote slung over his shoulder.

“Ma said to charge it as a business expense.”

“…how?”

Takeshi shrugged before rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, fellas, we’ve got one job today, so let’s stay focused. No distractions!”

“Says the one who always gets distracted by the food and kitchen appliances,” Daisuke joked.

Takeshi glared before they walked in, politely turning down the makeup samples they could bring back to their “girlfriends” as they made their way to the escalator. Daisuke and Takeshi pulled their phones out as they ascended, but Satoshi looked down at the sprawling floor in awe. Everything shone, neatly displayed or folded, and he was too enthralled by the sight that he didn’t feel the pang of regret that often accompanied him finally experiencing something he should’ve long experienced as a child.

When they made it to the floor that housed the men’s section, mannequins dressed in sleek suits greeted them. Satoshi recognized those brands as the high-end ones that made up most of Commissioner Hiwatari’s closet, and Satoshi marched on to find something less expensive. He passed by some popular streetwear brands, only known to him because of Takeshi and Daisuke’s mild interest in fashion, until he finally found more subdued pieces of clothing that catered to his tastes.

“Satoshi, uh, that brand’s—”

Takeshi’s warning came too late. Satoshi looked at the tag, and the price bounced in his head. It was too damn expensive for a casual sweater, so much so that seeing that many numbers together physically hurt.

“Takeshi, this was a terrible idea.”

“Bro, you literally aren’t even trying right now.”

“But—” Satoshi gestured to the clothes surrounding them. “—there’s too much to look through. And they’re probably all pricey.”

Takeshi sighed. “Just ask someone to help you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just go up to one of the attendants and ask them to help you. I’m sure they can find something for you.”

Satoshi just blinked, looking at Takeshi like he had said something in Russian. Takeshi returned Satoshi’s confused expression, and Daisuke laughed when he finally caught on.

“Are you too nervous to ask them for help?” Daisuke asked.

Satoshi Hiwatari, literal kid detective, college graduate at the tender age of fourteen, terrified to ask for help at the department store?

Absolutely.

Takeshi smirked, and Satoshi sighed, leaving the thoroughly entertained duo before asking one of the attendants for help. She directed him to a brand he wasn’t familiar with, but Satoshi liked the style and, most importantly, enjoyed the price point.

And after Satoshi tried on what he picked out, narrowing down the pile of clothes he brought with him to the fitting room, they paid before heading downstairs so Takeshi could fawn over the food. Satoshi followed him, wondering what samples he could taste, while Daisuke went off to grab something for Riku when he visited her during the holidays.

After stopping Takeshi from buying an extravagant set of chocolates, Satoshi spotted a familiar pink ribbon tying back brown locks. Lo and behold, Harada Risa was in her natural habitat at the department store, admiring the cases full of desserts while she carried a basket of impeccable looking strawberries in her hand. He ducked behind the closest fruit stand.

“Takeshi!” he harshly whispered.

“Ye?”

“Harada is here!”

Satoshi motioned towards the preoccupied girl, and Takeshi’s face lit up. What a serendipitous occasion for them to meet at the department store! But a familiar mop of red popped into his field of vision and was in the peripheries of a certain girl who would most definitely stop him were she to see him.

Thus, by virtue of the bro code, Rule Number 3 of this sleepover took precedent. But it also gave Takeshi a fantastic opportunity.

“I’ll distract her,” Takeshi whispered. “Get Daisuke out of here.”

“Where do we meet up?”

“Men’s section. We should be safe there.”

Satoshi nodded.

“Harada-chan!”

She turned around and greeted Takeshi. Satoshi couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but she saw Daisuke briskly walk towards him. He ducked behind the stand next to Satoshi, and they silently watched Takeshi lead her away for them to escape.

May his shot go well.

…

“So, what’s the real reason why you can’t be left alone with Harada?” Satoshi asked as the two of them sat down in the men’s section.

“Is Riku being jealous of her sister not a good enough reason?”

“I’m sure it’s part of the reason, but I feel like that’s not the whole thing.”

“Is that your detective instinct?”

“No. You’re just a little too obvious sometimes,” Satoshi said with a smile.

Daisuke sighed while Satoshi directed his attention to the passersby. A frantic woman passed by, quickly talking to someone on the phone in English.

“It’s just…Risa-chan has been a lot more clingy lately to the point that Riku’s starting to get annoyed with how much time I spend with her. And I’m having a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with Dark.”

“Like residual feelings of some sort?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what do with that.”

“Talk to her about it?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why? Because you’re dating her sister?”

“Yeah. That’s one of the reasons, but I also don’t want to put her on the spot for it, especially if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Is that why you were a little too excited to hear about Takeshi’s feelings for her?”

“Yeah,” Daisuke sheepishly admitted. “It’s the easiest way to resolve it. A win-win situation for everyone involved.”

“That involves Harada returning his feelings.”

“There’s always a chance.”

“You’re holding onto a slim hope, then.”

Daisuke laughed. “Better to be optimistic, I always say.”

“Well, I’m sure there are other guys in our grade we could always…gently persuade to pursue Harada were she to turn down Takeshi’s feelings.”

His friend shook his head in disbelief that Satoshi even suggested such an idea while Satoshi laughed. If Takeshi couldn’t worm his way into Risa’s heart, no one else in their grade would be able to. Only a person with such outstanding confidence like Takeshi could handle Risa’s overwhelming personality.

Either that or…

That wasn’t a train of thought he was willing to entertain. Not now. And, hopefully, not ever.

Satoshi spotted Takeshi’s spiky hair in his peripheries as he rode up the escalator, shining with jubilee.

“Hello, men,” he greeted as the enthusiasm faded from his face. “What the hell have you two been talking about to make y’all look like death?”

“We’re bracing ourselves for the interrogation later by screening our answers,” Satoshi answered.

Takeshi glared at him.

…

“You did what?”

Mama Saehara’s voice boomed through the house. The boys just arrived, and they stood at the entrance, removing their shoes while trying to make as little noise as possible.

Satoshi had never heard her sound like that. Her voice always had a light and cheerful tone despite her powerful looks, yet she sounded exactly like he expected her to in that moment.

“It was an emergency!” Inspector Saehara retorted. “I know that he had plans an’ all, but—”

“But what? You think work is more important than what you made him miss?”

“Well—”

Mama Saehara screamed a flurry of French, and Inspector Saehara gasped before replying to whatever she just said in Japanese. Takeshi sighed as they bickered on.

“I’m sorry about this, y’all.”

“It’s fine,” Daisuke said. “My parents get like this sometimes, too. Even grandpa has his moments.”

Satoshi blinked. It sounded like Inspector Saehara and Mama Saehara were arguing over what happened yesterday, but he didn’t realize they would get so heated over something like that. Satoshi had completely gotten over being called to work when he woke up that morning, so he couldn’t empathize with them arguing about it.

“Is this normal?” Satoshi asked.

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to hear them like this, but I guess they’ve probably been holdin’ back because of you.”

Mama Saehara let out another exasperated string of words in French. Inspector Saehara demanded she repeat it in Japanese, taunting her, and she did without any hesitation. The boys gasped.

“I thought they got along,” Satoshi said.

“They do,” Takeshi said. “I mean, how else could they have been married for this long?”

“But—”

“This is normal!” Takeshi assured. “Besides, what family doesn’t argue?”

Daisuke nodded. Satoshi, however, decided he had had enough of the petty argument and marched into the kitchen to try to diffuse the situation.

Inspector Saehara sat at the table with his phone leaning against his mug. He looked up from the screen and balked at the sight of Satoshi before shooting him an awkward smile.

“Hey, Satoshi,” Inspector Saehara greeted. “How was yer trip to the department store?”

“Good.”

He expected Inspector Saehara to reply or for Mama Saehara to say something to him. She just grumbled something in French.

Inspector Saehara gasped.

“Have you no shame in cussin’ me out in a different language in front of our son?”

It was Satoshi’s turn to gasp. If only to lighten the situation.

Inspector Saehara cracked a smile.

…

Chips and beer in hand, Inspector Saehara retreated to the master bedroom. And, arms full of snacks, the boys retreated to Takeshi and Satoshi’s room upstairs. Satoshi sat at his desk, attempting to tidy his mess, while Takeshi and Daisuke sat on Takeshi’s bed, sharing an opened bag of chips.

“So…” Takeshi began.

“So…” Satoshi echoed.

Takeshi glared at Satoshi, and he smirked back. Daisuke laughed at his friend’s antics before munching on a handful of chips, cutting through the tension in the room.

“Tell us why you like Risa-chan,” Daisuke started.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Takeshi asked. “She’s adorable.”

“Then why’d you only start liking her recently?” Satoshi quipped.

“Hey, if you wanna take the floor, then you spill.”

“Do you want to cry?”

Both Daisuke and Takeshi looked at Satoshi, mortified, but he just laughed. Perhaps it was in bad taste to joke about what had happened to him, but Satoshi didn’t have any deep secrets or life problems to spill besides it.

Takeshi pouted. “You’re disqualified from speaking from here on out.”

Satoshi gave him a thumbs up with a smile. Takeshi returned it before he began to rock back and forth like a metronome.

“Honestly, I don’t really know, man,” Takeshi admitted. “After Harada-ane moved away and Harada-imouto started to hang out with us a lot more, I jus’ started to pay more attention to her an’ all. Next thing ya know, I’m daydreamin’ about her in class.”

Daisuke nodded while Satoshi blinked. He didn’t mind talks of romance when casually mentioned or joked about, but he felt uncomfortable hearing Takeshi talk about it so sincerely. He opened the box of matcha Pocky and hoped no one noticed him snacking on something he would never willingly choose.

“And I can’t help it even though I think she’s got her heart set on another guy.”

Satoshi bit the stick of Pocky in half. His eyes bounced from Daisuke and Takeshi, noting Takeshi’s growing impatience and Daisuke’s obvious awkwardness.

Takeshi’s keenness never failed to surprise Satoshi.

“She probably likes you, Daisuke.”

“What? No…”

“Bro, have you seen how she acts around you? Look, man, I know you’re dense, but you can’t be that obtuse.”

Daisuke glanced over at Satoshi, eyes begging for help. But Satoshi zipped his lips, keeping to Takeshi’s words from earlier. And, honestly, he wanted no part in this conversation at all.

“Daisuke, please, be honest with me. I promise I’ll try my best not to take it personally.”

He sighed. “…I know. I’ve known for a while now, but I don’t know if she knows. And even if she does know, I don’t think she wants to acknowledge it.”

“Does she like you because you’re you or because you were Dark Mousy’s host or something like that?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure most of her feelings are coming from her residual feelings for Dark, but Riku also just moved away. I wouldn’t be surprised if she started getting attached to me, to us, to fill the void of her sister.”

Takeshi groaned before grabbing his pillow and digging his head into it. “Unrequited feelings suck, man.”

Daisuke nodded while Satoshi bobbed his head in reflex. He remembered the pang he felt when he realized how important Risa was to him despite knowing how she felt for Dark. His burgeoning feelings, no matter how fleeting, still haunted his mind. Somehow, someway, Risa always crawled into his life uninvited.

Unlike Takeshi, however, he couldn’t welcome any of those feelings he had for her.

Luckily, his friends didn’t notice his absent-minded expression as he stared at nothing in particular and precariously balanced the stick of Pocky in his mouth. When he came back to the conversation, Takeshi had a devilish smile on his face while he nudged a red-faced Daisuke with his elbow.

“Come on, you can tell us how far you’ve gone with Harada-ane!”

“Absolutely not!”

…

Satoshi woke up.

Daisuke and Takeshi were still asleep. And he was about to fall back asleep considering how late the trio had stayed up, but he saw slivers of light blue filtering through the blinds and the lethargic haze clouding his mind cleared up despite the sleep deprivation.

He sent Takeshi and Inspector Saehara a message saying he’d be out just in case they woke up while he was gone and, phone in hand, he left the house to grab breakfast for everyone. There was a coffeeshop by the police station he was partial to, and he didn’t mind taking the slight commute to get there.

Satoshi rarely found himself this alert so early in the morning, but he enjoyed the calm stillness of Azumano at dawn. If he began to consistently wake up at this time, he wouldn’t mind adding a morning walk to his daily routine.

He didn’t think the coffeeshop would be so busy on a Sunday morning, yet he saw a large group huddled around the register when he arrived. Satoshi noted how young they looked and wondered why a group of teens would be willingly awake this early on a Sunday until he saw Ritsuko intently looking at a tablet in her hands.

He went up to her. “Robotics competition?”

She turned towards him, initially shocked to see him there, but a smile quickly settled onto her face. “Yeah. It’s just an invitational, but we’re hoping to win something at least.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks!” she said. “How’s your sleepover going so far?”

“Fun.”

She smirked. “Did you actually fall asleep last night?”

“Yeah. And I woke up early.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Fortunately. I’m sort of starting to like mornings.”

She laughed. “Well, I wish you the best of luck on your transition to become an early bird.”

The barista called their order, and the group swarmed around the counter. Ritsuko stood up and slipped the tablet into her bag.

“Sorry to cut this short, but we’ve got to head out now. See you around?”

“Of course. Kick their asses.”

Ritsuko blinked, taken aback by Satoshi’s choice of words before letting out a hearty laugh. “Saehara-kun really has rubbed off on you.”

After Ritsuko left with her club, Satoshi ordered. He waited at a table by the counter, enjoying the ambiance and the light muzak as he skimmed through the news on his phone.

After they called his name, he ambled home with the food and drinks in hand, watching Azumano wake up with every step he took. As the sun continued to rise and the sorbet-colored sky turned its usual hue of blue, he saw stores open, joggers zoom by him, and the occasional group of elderly women briskly walk past him. Everything felt different from the lunchtime hustle, the evening rush, like a car engine humming to life instead of zooming down the highway.

He really could get used to this.

When he returned home, the house was still. He began to unpack the food from the bags when he heard heavy footsteps barrel downstairs. Satoshi froze in place, and the sight of Takeshi coming into the kitchen couldn’t shake off the fear.

“Bro, Harada-imouto’s coming over around lunchtime later!”

“Cool.”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“You, um, scared me. With the loud noises and all.”

“Aw shit, fam. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Takeshi then noticed the food that Satoshi brought. He began to open the containers in excitement until he found an order he knew belonged to him. His face lit up before opening his arms. A proud grin eclipsed his face.

“Come here, brotha!”

“Too early. Hard pass…brotha.”

…

The boys (and Inspector Saehara) sat at the dining table, stiff from anticipation for Risa’s arrival. Inspector Saehara learned about his son’s feelings for the Saehara household guest after asking why the hell his son was making that much racket so damn early in the morning and, fully supporting his son’s infatuations, helped the boys clean up and splurge on some food from that fancy place he knew the Harada family frequented.

His boy’s gotta make a good impression somehow.

So, when they heard the doorbell ring, exactly at noon, they looked at Takeshi, begging him to let her in. They held their breath, pitying the lovesick fool when they heard his usual, confident babbling turn clumsy as he stumbled over his words. But when they heard the door close and saw Risa walk in, wearing a t-shirt dress that definitely leaned towards a casual ensemble for a day with friends than an outfit to catch a boy’s attention, they cautiously glanced at Takeshi to see his perception on Risa’s uncharacteristic fashion choice.

The boy was too ecstatic at her company that he was blind to her obvious message about how she truly felt about this.

Was this a success? Or a failure? They couldn’t tell.

“So,” Risa began. “what’s the plan?”

…

Risa insisted on starting with Whisper of the Heart.

Satoshi expected it have that whimsical fantasy that permeated the films he watched the evening before, but it didn’t. It had the whimsy, for sure, but he couldn’t connect with the realism of the film. So, while Risa, Daisuke, and Takeshi waxed poetic about the youthful vigor in the couple’s ending, the sentiment was lost on him, and he dismissed himself on the kitchen to “grab a snack” while the trio argued over what to watch next.

He stood next to Inspector Saehara who sat at the table that allowed for prime viewing of his son’s adolescence. He had a laptop in front of him, with Mama Saehara on the screen, and Satoshi waved to her. She didn’t notice since she seemed preoccupied with something else on her end.

“I didn’t realize you were in a call with her.”

“She’s just here to get real-time updates on Takeshi crushing over the Harada kid. We’re not actually having a conversation.”

“Because of what happened yesterday?”

“What do you mean what—” Inspector Saehara didn’t finish his sentence. He just began to laugh. “Oh, that? That’s nothing.”

“Nothing? But…”

“It happens all the time. Me an’ Ma are always arguin’ over somethin’. It happens with those yer close to, yanno?”

No, Satoshi didn’t know. The bemused expression on his face said everything, and Inspector Saehara guffawed.

“It’ll happen one day whether you’ll like it or not. Just don’t hate us when it happens, alright?”

Takeshi came in. “Bro, we’re starting My Neighbor Totoro! Hurry up!”

Satoshi nodded, following Takeshi back to the living room without any resolution to his conversation with Inspector Saehara.

He sat down in the recliner, distant from the trio on the couch. Risa was wedged between Daisuke and Takeshi, dangerously close to crossing the threshold of Daisuke’s personal space. The former was dangerously close to rolling off the couch over the armrest; the latter was dangerously close to crossing the threshold of Risa’s personal space. As an outsider looking in, the teens spelled out their emotions so plainly that it only hurt to watch.

Satoshi envied them. Of that innocence that allowed them to feel the emotions that come and go. To allow themselves to get caught up in a tempest of their feelings without worrying about how far-reaching the consequences would be.

The chipper tune of the movie’s opening brough his attention back to the TV. And while those on the couch sung along, he just nodded to the beat, unable to fight the smile threatening his face.

…

After the movie ended, to everyone’s dismay, Satoshi ducked into the restroom. When he returned to the living room, only Risa was there, lying down on the couch as she busied herself with her phone.

Clearly, this situation was in violation of Rule Number 2 of the sleepover code, but it seemed like there was nothing he could do to amend the broken rule.

“Where’d they go?” Satoshi cautiously asked.

“Daisuke’s parents called him during the movie, so he’s returning their call right now. And Saehara-san and Takeshi-kun stepped out to grab dinner.”

“So, your parents are letting you stay until then?”

“Yup! So we can squeeze in two more movies before I have to head back!”

“Which movies?”

“The Wind Rises and Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Do they have romance in them?”

Risa winked. “Of course!”

Satoshi rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand your obsession with romance.”

“You don’t have to, but just know that you’re missing out on a fantastic genre.”

Satoshi shook his head, and she just giggled. “Maybe you’ll change your mind when you actually fall in love with someone.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I wouldn’t end your sentence so quickly,” she sang.

“Perhaps, but I still think you’re slightly delusional.”

“But who isn’t slightly delusional when it comes to love?”

Satoshi wondered what possessed her to say that. And, when she met his gaze, he didn’t expect to see that earnest expression on her face. The Risa in front of him was no longer the adolescent girl who lived up the stereotype. This was the Risa trying to expand her horizons, to learn what lay beyond her perception of the world: the Risa that terrified him.

“Do you think I’ve lost it?” she asked in a whisper. “Being hung up over a ghost of a feeling? Of a person I can’t clearly recall in my memories? At the fact that you can’t fill the hole they left not matter how much you tell me about them?”

Satoshi hated this. He hated how easily Risa managed to skirt the edge of his comfort zone. She was precise enough to get her point across yet vague enough that it felt rude for him to strike that boundary. Not without him risking sounding like an asshole.

Not without him allowing her to cross a boundary he wasn’t ready for anyone, let alone her, to cross.

He began to formulate the words in his mind to say that he couldn’t answer that question, that he felt uncomfortable even being in the position of receiving her inquiries. Satoshi had to brace himself for her disappointment at him pulling away, but Daisuke came down before Satoshi followed through with the decision his mind was heading to.

“So, what’re we watching next?” Daisuke asked.

Satoshi nearly wept from the timing.

…

Sunday passed without any more drama. After they finished the movies Risa wanted to watch, she left without much fanfare, and the boys went through as much of the Studio Ghibli filmography as they could before they passed out.

Satoshi, however, woke up that Monday morning in a cold sweat with a splitting headache. So, while Takeshi and Daisuke left to pick up Grandpa Daiki from the train station, Satoshi floated in and out of consciousness while a familiar, winged Phantom Thief haunted his dreams.

#dnangel #d.n.angel #d.n. angel #dn angel #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #takeshi saehara #daisuke niwa #my fanfiction #my writing #falling #we die like men without betas

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