#but That means i can’t use my phone bc i’m mirroring the screen so i have only my laptop left to type on but god it’s Annoying anyway !!!

[daenqyu]

— doing their eyeliner at 12AM

includes: bakugou, kaminari, kirishima, and hawks

warnings: suggestive (LOTS of making out)

a/n: did i write this just because i love doing my eyeliner and i really want to sit on a guy’s lap while i do his???? maybe. but that’s none of your business 🙄☝️

bakugou katsuki

it’s canon that he wears eyeliner and even if it wasn’t,,, he’d still try it at least ONCE

in this case you had to ask him

well more like beg him 

“babe please, i promise i’ll make a good work!” 

“how? you suck at doing yours”

you scoff before punching his arm, making him let out a hiss as he glares at you

“i don’t you idiot, now can you shut up and stay still for a second?”

of course he ends up giving in bc come on, he’d do anything just to make you happy and if that meant letting you put makeup on him at 12AM because you thought he’d look ‘pretty’ then so be it

bakugou doesn’t voice out any of this though 

instead, he keeps complaining and even tickles your sides from time to time just to get on your nerves

“bakugou,” he frowns when his last name falls from your lips, not liking how it sounded at all. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stap your eye.”

“tch, stop telling me what to do, dumbass.”

but he does stop

after all, he didn’t really want you to get mad at him

he entertains himself by tapping his fingers against your thighs to the beat of the music playing from your speaker 

his touch makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you ignore them and continue to draw on his eyelids 

you decide to keep it simple; just a very defined line that’s not too thick, but enough so that it’s visible 

“okay, i’m done”

after you put the eyeliner down and notice bakugou’s eyes were focused on you, you completely forget how to breathe

the black makes his vermilion eyes look even brighter and in contrast with his blonde hair...he simply looks beautiful 

he takes your silence as a bad sign and thinks you probably did fuck up, but when he looks at himself in his phone camera, the makeup looks fine to him so,

why the heck weren’t you saying anything?

“what is it? do you not like it?”

didn’t like it? couldn’t he see you were practically salivating bc of him?

“uh no, you look really good actually,” you look away before continuing, not trusting yourself to look at him while you said the next words. “you look pretty”

bakugou is a little surprised by the compliment, but he wastes no time before teasing you

he leans in, and once he’s close enough, he takes your chin so you’re looking directly at him

a smirk takes over his lips when your eyes avoid his

“what’s got you so shy?” he teases

“i’m not”

“then look at me” 

you didn’t want him to know how big of an effect he had on you, so you turn your head around and face him, even tho you’re flustered beyond belief

his eyes slowly look down at your lips and then back to your eyes, making you a little anxious as to what could happen, but bakugou decides to drags it out

just to have some fun of his own

he places one of his hands on the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your noses are almost touching 

the other one caresses your cheek softly, then his fingers slowly trace out your jaw, eyes still stuck on your own 

it’s infuriating really

the way his fingers carefully touch your lips, applying a bit more pressure on his thumb that’s touching your lower lip so he can open your mouth ever so slightly 

the way he acts as if he has all the time in the world, as if he could do this all day

and you know he can

but you don’t 

so you lean in to close the distance with a deep kiss

it’s messy and sloppy; his tongue clashing with your own as his hands roam all over your body to feel you

you end up sitting on his lap, lips still connected and hands all over each other

you pull away, chest heaving as rough breaths leave your mouth and smirk when you notice bakugou is looking at you 

his hair is messy thanks to your gripping and the eyeliner fits him so nicely

for a moment you almost can’t believe he’s your boyfriend 

“have i ever told you how handsome i think you are?” you ask him with a goofy smile on your face, fingers playing with the ends of his hair

“hm, once or twice but you can always remind me again” 

“let me just show you”

he quirks an eyebrow at your implication, licking his lips as his eyes darken

“oh? bold, aren’t we now?”

“learned from the best”

“fuck yeah you did”

to keep it short, you guys didn’t sleep a lot that night 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

kaminari denki

he was DEFINITELY the one that came up with the idea

something just tells me he probably spends 90% of his time scrolling through tiktok 

and if he feels like it, maybe he’ll even posts some of his own

so it’s no surprise that he’s caught up with all the trends and challenges

and even dances (which surprisingly, he’s damn good at)

i’m guessing you guys already know what i’m trying to get at

he had seen way too many tiktoks of couples doing their partner’s eyeliner and he thought it was the coolest thing ever

not only was he curious to see how the makeup would look on him, but he also just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you

he had been thinking about it for a few weeks now, but couldn’t seem to find the perfect moment to ask you

until one night you guys were having a sleepover on your dorm and a video of said trend pops up on his ‘fyp’

you’re cuddling, your head against his chest as his fingers trace random pattern on your back, when he brings it up

“hey babe?”

you hum in response, eyes fluttering open to look up at kaminari

he smiles before pecking your lips, thinking about how beautiful you look all cuddled up next to him

“do you think you could do my eyeliner real quick?”

the question takes you by surprise,

tho you’re used to yout boyfriend being quite spontaneous and random at times, so you don’t really question it

instead, you nod and move out of the bed to get the makeup product, which sits on your vanity

“where should i sit?”

he asks you once you walk over to him, but you simply smile before taking a seat on his lap

you position your legs on either side of his hips so you’re in a straddling position and kaminari almost forgets all about the makeup because of this

but can you really blame him?

you just look so perfect like this

he has to physically stop himself from flipping you over and kissing you all he wants

and you giggle when you notice a pout forming on his face

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“you sure?”

“yeah, just hurry up and do it so i can kiss you”

you laugh, “yes sir”

when you start, he can’t help but giggle at the feeling and you have to hold his face in place so he would stop moving

he gets used to it after a while 

almost even falls asleep from how soft your other hand felt on his cheek

since you know kaminari likes to be a little extra, you attempt to draw a lighting bolt right below one of the lines

it’s not the best, but it looks decent enough so you decide to leave it there

but when you finish, you feel like something is missing; like it could be better

then you have the fantastic idea to use eyeshadow

kaminari feels you getting up from his lap and he whines 

“where are you going?”

“hold on, i’m feeling inspired right now”

“okay?”

he doesn’t understand what you mean at all, but he lets you be

you take a random eyeshadow palette and make sure it has a nice black color on it

then you reposition yourself on his lap

“open your eyes and look up”

he does as he’s told and you proceed to put some more black on his lower lash line and waterline (not too much)

when kaminari doesn’t feel your touch on his face anymore, he looks down at you with a smile, which inevitably makes you smile too

“how do i look?”

you chuckle lowly, examining his eyes once more 

he always looks gorgeous, but the eyeliner just...makes him hit different

and the fact he’s wearing one of his chokers doesn’t make it any better

he looks straight out of alt tiktok

“you, my beautiful boyfriend, look very attractive”

he smirks at your teasing tone, “oh? is that so?”

“i’m afraid it is” 

he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror because all he could think about was kissing you

and that’s what he does

he holds your face with both of his hands before pulling you in to kiss you

his lips feel hot and so does your whole body when he grips your hips

after a few more kisses, he pulls away and looks at you with excited eyes

“can i do yours now?”

you chuckle at his cuteness before nodding and letting him draw on your face

it’s not perfect, but hey! baby tried his best and that’s all that matters

besides he looks so proud of himself, telling you how cute you look and how lucky he is to call you his

“you look soooo pretty! i mean you always do, of course, but you look even prettier which i didn’t know was humanly possible yet here you are”

he ends up going on a rant about all the things he loves about you and you’re pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes by the time he ends

“i love you”

“i love you too, my pretty girl”

kirishima eijirou:

this man has absolutely tried on eyeliner at least once in his life

has it been good? probably not

but he likes it and thinks it looks very cool

sometimes you do yours and kirishima lives for it

he likes the way it compliments the shape of your eyes and how happy you get when you get the line right from the first try

whenever you’re getting ready and he’s with you, he doesn’t take his eyes off you

a smile spreading across his lips when he sees you bite down on your lower lip in concentration, your fingers skillfully tracing the marker on your eyelids 

and that’s when the idea pops in his head

he ponders on it for a while tho, not sure how to bring it up or if you’d be up to do it

it takes him a few days before he asks you and when he does, he looks all nervous 

you’re both hanging out in his dorm cuddling as you just finished watching a movie

a yawn leaves your lips and you stretch your arms, looking at the time on your phone screen

it reads 12:33 AM 

you hum, moving your head up to look at kirishima from your place on his lap

he looks down at you and offers you a sweet smile before placing a quick kiss on your lips

“i should get going,” he pouts at your words, his hold on your waist tightening so you couldn’t stand up and you giggle, turning around completely so you’re facing him

you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer, just until your lips touch

you teasingly smirk at him before kissing his cheek and he frowns

“what? don’t you like my kisses?” you pout at him 

kirishima scoffs at your stupid question and grabs your jaw gently, looking you in the eyes

“stop being a tease”

you roll your eyes, “you’re so impatient”

nevertheless you comply and connect your lips with his, your hands now slightly massaging his nape

he hums against your mouth, prompting you to keep going

before things can go any further tho, you pull away 

he huffs childishly, not liking the way you kept leaving him hanging

“i seriously should get going,” you press one last peck on his lips. “don’t wanna risk getting caught here” 

“then just stay the night”

“baby i already did yesterday”

“uhh your point?”

you chuckle, “good try babe”

you attempt to stand up but once again your boyfriend stops you from doing so

you open your mouth to ask him what’s up 

but he beats you to it

“actually, i wanted to ask you something” he’s looking away from you and that makes you a little nervous, not having a clue about what he wanted to talk about 

you nod, silently telling him to keep going

“could you...do my eyeliner?” a blush creeps onto his neck, his eyes still not meeting yours and you think he looks adorable. before you can answer him, he talks again. “but i mean only if you want to cause’ i know it’s kinda hard so it’s okay if you don’t but i think i’d be really cool and-”

“oh my god eijirou it’s okay!” he finally shuts up and looks at you with big eyes

“it is?”

“hm, i’m more than happy to do it,” he lets out a sigh after hearing your comforting words and you kiss his nose. “besides you’ll look super manly”

if kirishima was already head over heels for you, then now he just wanted to straight up marry you

you got up and started to look around in kirishima’s bathroom drawer since sometimes you left some of your stuff behind just in case

luckily, the eyeliner was there

after you took it, you sat in front of kirishima once again, your legs crossed and you moved closer to him

he kept still and let you get comfortable, looking down at your lips briefly when you got a bit too close

“close your eyes”

and so he did

like i mentioned before, you’re a bit experienced with this since you practice on yourself quite a lot

so it doesn’t take you too much time

the line you drew was a bit thicker than normal but not too much

and instead of doing a straight line, you did it a bit more upwards

“and done!” you say happily while retracting your hand from kirishima’s face

he opens his eyes and offers you a grin

the action is small and meaningless, but it somehow makes you nervous

the makeup really suits him and you can’t help but admire him for a while 

by admiring i mean shamelessly checking him out

of course he notices it

and he teases you about it

“does it look good?”

“yeah,” you answer while looking away, trying to hide how flustered you are. “really good”

he hums before placing his hands on your waist and sitting you down on his lap, making you look at him with a surprised expression on your face

one of his hands stays on your waist while the other travels up to hold your face

you let out a heavy breath at his actions, feeling your heart thumping against your chest

his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean in to his touch, loving the way he was always so gentle with you

without any warning, kirishima smashes his lips against your own

your eyes widen for a moment, not expecting this at all, but you close them when you feel his tongue touching your lower lip

you open your mouth and let him take the lead, a whimper coming out of you when you feel his hand wrap around your neck, pressing slightly

he pulls away with a smirk, both of your chests heaving from the lack of air

“still wanna leave?”

you sigh while moving your head, yet a smile was evident on your face, “i guess i can stay”

“atta girl”

takami keigo (hawks):

another one who canonically wears eyeliner !!

unlike bakugou (who does his eyeliner to cover up the gap between his mask and eyes), keigo does his solemnly because he thinks it looks good on him

wait, let me rephrase that

he knows it looks good on him

it’s part of his morning routine, he does it every time before going to work

so sometimes while you’re both getting ready for the day, you see him doing it

you open the bathroom door sleepily, barely managing to keep your eyes open

you walk over to the sink next to keigo’s and splash water on your face to wake yourself up

beside you, keigo smiles at your antics

he thinks you look the cutest in the mornings, especially when you’re grumpy

feeling his eyes on your figure, you turn around to face him with a raised brow

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i have something on my face”

he laughs at your attitude and walks over to place a kiss on your cheek

his lips feel warm against your cheek and it makes you smile

“good morning to you too” his says teasingly

“morning birdy” your tone matches his and he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling away from you to finish doing his eye makeup

you brush your teeth quickly while thinking about what you were gonna have for breakfast, and whether keigo had time to eat with you or not

once you finish, you place your toothbrush on its place and look over to your right

only to be met with the number two hero doing his eyeliner

in one hand he holds a feather of his against his eyelid, as if to help him do a straight line, and with the other he holds the actual makeup product

he has a concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly furrowed

and you look at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes

he looks so effortlessly beautiful

his golden locks are messy, yet perfectly in place and his wings rest by his side

he has his hero costume on, except for his coat

meaning his muscular arms are in full display for you to see

you don’t realize you’re staring until keigo finally finishes the second eye, and puts down the eyeliner

he smirks at you through the mirror and you look away, embarrassment clear on your face 

“come on, i made us breakfast”

instead of teasing you, like you thought he would, he simply grabs your hand and leads you to the dining table

your heart swells for the man and you look at the two plates in awe, “you did this?”

“is it so hard to believe?”

you roll your eyes before turning around and kissing him, a soft “thank you” leaving your lips as you pull away

that morning you can’t help but keep stealing glances at your boyfriend’s flawless eyeliner

and later that night, when you’re both cuddled up in each other’s arms  watching a movie, you get the sudden brilliant idea

“hey babe, can i do your eyeliner?”

keigo doesn’t even question you, he just nods before pressing a kiss to your neck and you giggle happily

you stand up to get the eyeliner from your shared bathroom and once you return, you take a seat right in front of him

“do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“shut up, i do my makeup too, you know?”

keigo laughs, “i’m just teasing baby”

“you’re mean”

he leans in towards you, pulling you closer by your hips until his lips hover over yours

unconsciously, your eyes look down at his lips, wondering whether he was gonna kiss you or not

but being the little shit he is, keigo doesn’t 

“you should hurry up,” his lips are still inches away from yours, but he doesn’t plan on closing the gap any time soon. “i wanna finish the movie”

this fucker

you clear your throat and move away from him, enough so that you can actually do the makeup, but his hands stay on your hips

you try your best to do it the exact same way he does it

a sharp, straight line that covers part of his outer v and also a small portion of his inner corner

giving his eyes a cat like shaped form

to add your own touch, you draw two small hearts on both sides of his cheekbones 

“m’kay, you can open your eyes now”

and when he does, your breath literally hitches in your throat

of course it’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing eyeliner

but your faces are still close and his amber eyes are stuck on yours and you just feel like you’re about to explode

your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by keigo and he smirks 

“i take it you like how it looks?” his tone is flirty and it makes you snap from your trance

you smile at him, softly tracing the two hearts with your fingers, “hm, you look lovely”

“oh really?”

“yeah”

“not as lovely as you, i bet”

and before you can even disagree with him, he presses his lips against yours

you let out a soft moan when he moves you so you’re sitting on his lap and his tongue explores your mouth ever so passionately

keigo takes his sweet time kissing you, taking in every little sound you make and the way your hips slowly move against his thigh

when you pull away, your lips are swollen and you have some spit coating them

which is enough to make keigo go crazy, but before actually doing something, he takes the eyeliner on his hand

you furrow your eyebrows at his action

“what are you doing?”

“well it’s my turn now”

“why do you oh so suddenly want to do my eyeliner?”

he smiles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “because i wanna see how it’ll look when i make you cry it off”

your eyes widen at his words, but you make no attempt to stop him

keigo kept his promise and he indeed made you cry all of your eyeliner off 😁👍🏼

#bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #kaminari x reader #kirishima x reader #hawks x reader #mha imagines #mha oneshots #mha fluff #bnha smut #mha headcanons #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #kaminari denki #kirishima eijirou #takami keigo #bnha hawks #bnha #mha

[slightlymore]

oh no, mr suh, please don't spank me

johnny x fem reader

cameo: taeyong

genre: !!smut!!, roommates au, fake enemies to lovers, a little tiny fluffy angst bc it's my brand apparently

warnings: a lot of mutual teasing, finger sucking, sexting, solo f and m, spanking, marking, dry humping, hand job, fingering, slight cum play, not protected, overstimulation f and m, multiple orgasms, penetration, manhandling, oral m and f, tiny degradation (sparse use of ‘little slut’), rough

words: 7K

it’s finally here!! this one is very juicy haha good luck I guess :) keep your panties dry challenge

taglist: @comically-sleep-deprived​ @strawberrymilkandcigarettes​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​ @kibumingi​

_____

"Johnny, get lost." 

You raised your eyes to meet Johnny's peaceful face in the middle of the corridor, one of them still twitching for waking up so early. 

He smirked and didn't move. 

You made a step on the right. 

He did the same. 

"John," you made a step on the left. 

His body kept blocking your way. 

"Why? Are you busy?" His voice was deep and thick like honey and in other circumstances you would have wanted to listen to it forever. But that morning you woke up without a single ounce of patience. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, unlike you." 

"I'm also busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?" 

"Getting between your legs."

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but snort once. 

He has been playing that game for weeks now. A little touch here, a little compliment there, but it was the first time to see him this pushy. 

"I told you that I don't want to sleep with my roommates," you walked around him, teasingly hitting his shoulder with yours. 

You weren't surprised to feel his fingers wrap your arm and turn you around. 

"You don't have to sleep with me. I can sleep well on my own. I need you awake."

Johnny let his palm dance on your skin until it got to your throat, his thumb rising slowly and caressing your lips. You gulped and looked down at his hand before locking eyes with him again. 

"You know what I mean," your breath and moving mouth tickled his finger and the twinkle in the man's eyes amused you. You were about to add something else but decided to do something instead - giving him new ideas to continue jerking off to later, since his dick will still be dry for a long time. 

But when you softly pulled his thumb into your mouth, you didn't expect to be the first to get that excited. 

Johnny let out the ghost of a sigh, staring at the way your pursed lips dragged around his skin, the softness of your tongue licking the tip after giving it a good suck. 

"Hm. Knew you were a little slut." 

You chuckled and raised your hands to press them on his chest and push him away before turning around with the intent of leaving him hot and bothered. 

But he was quicker. In a second your wrists were blocked by his strong fingers and his head was shaking. 

"No touching."

You narrowed your eyes amused. 

"Oh yeah? And what should I do for you to let me touch you?" 

His fingers intertwined with yours and if he didn't have that lustful expression on, the gesture would have been almost sweet. 

"Beg?" 

You opened your mouth in a slightly surprised o. 

"Me? Beg? I don't beg." 

Johnny let go of your hands with a smirk and ghosted your chest until getting to the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. 

"Stop me," he whispered but all of a sudden you couldn't concentrate on forming words and frankly, you realized you didn’t want to either. 

So he knelt in front of you and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, revealing your thighs and underwear, pushing it up until exposing your stomach. His breath tickled your skin first then you felt his lips, and when he placed the first kiss you got goosebumps all over your body. Johnny chuckled slowly and palmed your legs as if getting rid of the bumps but it only added to the heightening sensation his mouth was building up. And when he took out the tongue, circling your belly button, you breathed in deeply and grabbed his hair. He liked it since a pleasant grunt formed on his lips, which were going down until meeting the cotton of the underwear, then on one side, tackling your hip with slow kisses. 

Right when you were about to close your eyes and moan, you suddenly couldn't feel Johnny's lips on you anymore. You stared down just to see his annoying smirk, his locks still in your hand and his eyebrow raised upon seeing the little wet patch formed on your panties. 

He got up with a swift movement as if he had finished with all of his to-do list for the day and smiled. 

"I'll go make breakfast," he announced and walked around you whistling.

_____

Said breakfast was being consumed in silence. 

You had to change your underwear because the situation between your legs got too much out of control and when you came back Johnny already made coffee and pancakes. With little glances at his face you wondered how come he was that calm and, the most important thing, how come there was no tent in his gray sweatpants. 

Did he really think he could start a war and win? You scoffed while angrily munching on the last pieces of pancakes. 

"You okay?" he licked his lips after finishing his coffee. 

"Of course," you replied dryly, standing up and grabbing your plate directed towards the kitchen like a tornado. 

"Your vibes are kinda dark though?" he raised his voice for you to be able to hear over the clanging of dishes. 

"Mind your own business," you came back, the violent shift of air as you passed near him almost making his hair swoosh. 

_____

Tight clothes? No, more. Lingerie? Uh uh, more. Naked? Maybe too much. Towel? Fuck yeah, towel. 

Lips juicy, eyes glowing, and the plan was rolling as you stood inside the bathroom, grinning at yourself in the mirror, hands virtually rubbing against each other while physically they were wrapping your damp skin with the towel. 

Hidden behind a corner like a predator about to attack its prey, you waited to hear Johnny's steps coming towards the bedrooms. A little noise, calm and deep, arrived to your ears first. One step forward and the collusion was perfect. 

"Oh, sorry!" you bumped into him, the fabric shifting on your breasts, your fingers prudishly trying to cover yourself and - oops - failing. With hands pressed on your chest, the swell of it was even more visible now, the last drops of water shining on the skin and falling slowly inside the cleavage. 

Johnny remained silent, not even a tiny ‘sorry’ escaping his lips, his eyes completely trained on your body. Then, when you were already tasting the victory on your tongue, he suddenly looked behind you as if not wanting to look anymore. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to another, waiting for a more grand reaction but Johnny kept on a composed face. 

After a few seconds of silence, you were about to leave, lower lip between your teeth as your plan didn't make him go rogue. 

But then he whispered something under his breath and when you least expected it, he pushed you against the wall. The air got knocked out of your lungs making you breathless.  "You like dangerous games?" 

His tone was delicious, lips so close to yours, and you absolutely wanted to drink it all in. And he was right. You did like dangerous games and you also liked to win. 

"Yeah. And revenge as well." You finally smiled as one of your fingers slowly dragged on his chest, smoothing the creases of his white t-shirt. "Am I making you feel some type of way, John?" 

The man scoffed, staring you down. "Not really." 

"You can't even look at me in the eyes though.”

"Eyes? Something else requires my attention now, baby girl." 

The instant delicious burst of pleasure of his hands cupping your now nude breasts and his thumbs circling your hard nipples made your knees buckle. The towel, slowly falling until stopping around your waist, was dangerously close to getting to your feet if Johnny's hips weren't pressed against yours. 

One step back and you'd be naked in front of him and that wasn't your plan at all. 

No, no, wait. You were supposed to make him feel things, not the contrary. 

Then why were you letting him touch you like that? 

"Are you sure you're doing this for me and not for yourself?" Johnny smiled at your light panting and twitching fingers, pressed on his arms. 

"Enough," you whined, mind already blurry, so close to beg him to take you like that against that same wall. 

Johnny stopped and took a step back, his hands quickly going to your hips preventing the towel from falling any further. 

"I don't have to say it since it's obvious. But I've won. Again." 

You pulled the white fluffy fabric from his fingers with a huff and stormed into your room, the echo of Johnny's chuckle ringing in the whole corridor. 

_____

Disastrous. 

You couldn't believe that you got that hot and bothered when Johnny should have been the one salivating and losing his mind inside his room. 

Throwing away the towel you looked around for your clothes when a buzz from the bed made your head turn. 

"Are you touching yourself?" read Johnny's text. You snorted. Unbelievable. 

You weren't going to touch yourself. No, sir. You already lost a second time. You weren't about to give Johnny that satisfaction as well. 

From You: and if I were?

From Johnny: thinking about me?

From You: you wish.

You laid down, face illuminated from the phone and fingers hovering over the screen, somewhat invested in the conversation. But just a little. 

From Johnny: come on. do it.

You rolled your eyes amused and changed his display name. 

From You: you first 

From Evil dick: hm, I love winning though.

From You: you talk a lot for someone that's fucking his fist right now :)

From Evil dick: is this what you're imagining?

From You: yeah 

Johnny read the text and didn't reply anymore. You could not prove that he was taking care of his stiffy but the thought of him doing so made you feel triumphant. Perhaps it wasn't a full win but you could give yourself half a point. Only half. 

Because when you put your phone down, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding between your legs either. 

_____

You needed at least one win. 

Just once, only once, you wanted to see Johnny's honey eyes tremble under your touch. 

And the corridor was your arena apparently since the next day another opportunity arose. Short and quick. 

You smiled at him exiting his room and he smiled back. His lips were about to part and probably ask if you enjoyed yourself the previous night but no sound came out of them as your fingertip gently caressed his chest. It was barely there, a slight touch going slowly down. 

His jaw muscles tightened when you reached his pants and he jolted when you pulled his belt towards you. 

"It was a little crooked," you feigned innocence, your knuckles definitely brushing something that made him inhale silently. 

"I'm making breakfast." You smiled and walked around him, leaving Johnny alone in the middle of the corridor just like he did the day before. 

_____ “That’s not a win.”

You threw your head back on the couch arm, looking at Johnny upside down, the popcorn kernel you were currently about to eat stopped against your lips. 

“That was a win,” you replied. 

The man put his hands on his hips. “You just touched my belt.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently that’s enough for you to cum, baby boy.” 

Johnny’s cheeks rose in a tight smile as you licked the salt and butter from your fingers. The look in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you and you loved it. His gaze caressed your face and open lips, then your exposed throat and low cut t-shirt. You knew he loved that angle. Could you possibly get two wins on the same day? 

“Want some popcorn?” you asked, handing him one kernel. Johnny put his hands on the couch’s arm, bending his frame down and taking it with his teeth. You looked away nonchalantly as his lips touched your fingers, and you grabbed another kernel for yourself. 

But Johnny was quicker. 

One hand on your jaw, pushing your head back even more, he took it from between your lips in a spiderman kiss. 

You couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, mouth open and skin burning from where his lips touched it. 

When you locked eyes again, you noticed him munching with a little smile. Still hovering over you, a few strands of hair covering his eyes, he swallowed and whispered. 

“I win.” 

_____

“Oh, no, I’m not drinking.”

Taeyong looked at you with the cocktail glass in his hand as if you grew two heads. “Y/N not drinking?” 

“I can’t drink. I’m on duty.”

You were still sitting on the couch in a ball, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated eyes. 

Taeyong took a sip from his drink then shrugged and took a sip from the one he prepared for you too. 

“On duty for what?” he plopped near you making you wobble slightly to the side. 

“War.” 

“On Johnny?” Your head snapped towards his innocent eyes. “You know about it?” 

The boy chuckled. “Want me to give you a few tips?”

He smacked his lips and shifted his weight to be more comfortable, his lids dropping as if about to share some juicy secrets. 

You imitated his position and leaned in to hear better.

“Make him jealous with me.” You blinked in silence a few times then sighed, pushing Taeyong away. “Are you trying to get between my legs too, now?” 

The other continued chuckling. “It was worth the shot. You can try stuff like touching him randomly, then.” You huffed. “You think I’m a newbie?” 

Taeyong sipped from both of his drinks again. “Then what about making him believe he got you so you can attack when he feels powerful?” 

_____

"Oh, no. I have flour on my clothes."

The dough you were working was still sticky so you got a handful of flour that accidentally went on your bottoms right when Johnny made his appearance in the kitchen. 

He looked down and, indeed, noticed a light layer of dust covering your black leggings. 

“Could you please clean them up for me? These are my favourites,” you pouted at him.  

Johnny smiled and sighed, getting closer and slapping your butt once, then twice, then again, until all the flour was cleaned up. 

"There's no reason to be this aggressive, you know?” you bit your lower lip. 

"But you like it this way. Don't you?" 

Another spank and you mewled, the sound making Johnny hum in appreciation. 

“You’re all clean now.” He stepped back and presumably stared at your ass with the excuse of checking for some more flour. 

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you whispered and almost regretted - key word ‘almost’ - saying it as your flatmate approached you again, his sudden dark aura making your skin crawl. 

“You want me to continue?” his voice caressed your ear, his tone highly amused.  

You acted as if gathering the courage to confess that, yes, you wanted him to spank you but, oh no, you were so shy and he was so strong, you couldn’t do it like that and in public!!? oh no, you couldn’t take it. 

“N-no, it’s better if we stop here. I- I don’t think I can handle it. It will make me go crazy.”

Even if not seeing him in the face, you could almost physically sense Johnny’s puzzled aura. Laughing to yourself you wondered what kind of reaction he would come up with this time. 

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and when you were about to turn your head to check on him, you felt his chest on your back and he engulfed your body with his arms as he pressed his hands on the counter in front of you. 

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m giving this one to you.” 

_____

From Evil Dick: I can hear your vibrator from the kitchen

From You: I’m not using any vibrator right now From You: maybe it’s taeyong lol 

From Evil Dick: lol From Evil Dick: it’s definitely coming from your room tho

From You: you’re imagining things you wish were true

From Evil Dick: I don’t imagine you getting off on vibrators From Evil Dick: I like to be included in my fantasies :)

You: typing You: deleting You: typing You: deleting

From You: fuck you

From Evil Dick: fuck me yourself From Evil Dick: 4-2 for me

Johnny smiled brightly when you barged into his room. 

He was laying down in the dark, with only the phone illuminating his face. 

“Are you already done?” he asked teasingly. 

You stopped at the feet of his bed with crossed arms. 

“I’m here to fuck,” you announced. 

Johnny remained with his mouth open as his brain processed the information then laughed. 

“I don’t think you will,” he sat up, resting his back on the bed frame. The movement lifted his t-shirt a little, exposing the waistband of his boxers above the sweatpants and his lower stomach skin. 

You didn’t add anything and got on your knees on the bed instead, slowly crawling towards him until getting between his legs. Then you sat on your heels and took away your shirt. 

Johnny followed your frame and his eyes grew wide seeing you naked underneath the falling fabric. You smiled and his loss of words and you imitated his position, sitting in front of him and opening your legs to drape over his. 

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he whispered, eyes trained to where you slowly dragged your fingers. 

Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes and threw your head back, gently drawing circles around your clit before pushing two fingers inside of you. 

“Shit,” Johnny repeated and you whined, the wet sound telling him how you felt. 

“I didn’t say I’m here to fuck you. You can’t touch me nor can you touch yourself. If you do, you lose,” you instructed breathless and Johnny dug his fingers in the mattress underneath him. 

You smiled and bit your lower lip, fully enjoying his expression, his eyes looking as if drinking you in and were making you go crazy. 

But then he smiled too and it threw you off. 

In a second his hands were on your thighs as he pulled you towards him from underneath your knees until reaching the hand between your legs. He grabbed your wrists and blocked them in an iron grip. 

“You can’t touch yourself either.” 

You were breathing heavily, naked and so close to Johnny that you could almost feel the warmth of his body on your skin. 

“What’s with that face, baby girl? You wanted to cum?” he cooed at you. 

You bit your lower lip and shook your head. 

Johnny pouted. “Hm, baby girl can’t even lie well. Are you sure you don’t want to feel my fingers inside of you?”

You closed your eyes. “I don’t.” 

The other pulled you towards him by the wrists again until being able to whisper on your lips. 

“What about my tongue?” 

“Fuck, John, plea-” you interrupted yourself. 

Johnny smirked. “What was that? Please?”

You shook your head again. “No.” 

“I definitely heard you say please just now.” 

Panting and on the edge you considered just not caring about anything and fuck that man on the spot. 

“Truce,” you whispered. Johnny tilted his head to the side. 

“It’s not over and no one wins or loses this time,” you explained. 

“That’s convenient for you,” he teased. 

You huffed and fully sat on his lap, rolling your hips once on his hard cock. 

“I think it’s convenient for you too,” you commented after Johnny’s trembling sigh. 

His eyes grew darker and his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you on himself even harder. Your arms wrapped his neck and you hid your face into the crook of it, trying to conceal your whimpers. 

The rough material of his sweatpants did wonders to your sensitive clit and you didn’t need a lot to start shaking in Johnny’s arms. Your hips stopped as you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders but his hands on your waist forced you to go on. The overstimulation felt delicious and you didn’t care what words you mumbled into his ear, jolting every time his cock rubbed on your raw clit again and again. A few deep grunts and Johnny’s erratic movements told you that he was close too. You kissed his jaw then the skin next to it, then the corner of his lips, breathing in the air he breathed out then moaning once as he took his cock out and pumped it in his hand, spurts of warm cum coating your lower stomach. You looked down at the way it dripped between your legs and felt dizzy from pleasure. Johnny read your mind and quickly collected the drops fallen on your clit, drawing circles around it quicker and quicker until he had you shaking for the second time, head fallen on his shoulder and teeth digging into his neck skin. 

You remained like that, breathless and fucked out until you finally could manage to raise your head again. “This never happened,” you whispered and Johnny nodded amused.

_____

You yelped as Johnny’s wide palm slapped your butt unannounced. "John! I'm near the stove!" 

"Good morning," he smiled sweetly as he retrieved two coffee mugs from the cupboard. 

"What if I burnt myself?" you accused him even if you both knew it was highly improbable. 

"I would have kissed the bruise until the pain disappeared," he placed the mugs down and walked around you, positioning himself behind you and trapping you with his arms. One hand turned the stove off and the other danced on your stomach pulling you against him. 

"When will you stop?" you tried to steady your voice since your ass rubbing on your roommate's crotch wasn't exactly calming. 

"When you'll beg," he whispered in your ear with his playful tone. "But I'm not trying to do anything now. You were so caught up into staring at me that you didn't notice the eggs and I'm here to save them." 

You put your tongue inside your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. Johnny breathed in as if trying to add something else but the sound of a voice made you both jolt. 

"What are you guys doing so early in the morning?"

You almost forgot you had other roommates besides your sworn enemy poking at your back with his cock. 

"Teaching Y/N how to make good eggs."

Taeyong raised one eyebrow at the scene in front of himself. "Yeah. Adding a sausage does make your eggs taste better." 

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning around and pushing a chuckling Johnny away. 

"Do you want to know my recipe?" Taeyong raised his voice since you were already leaving the kitchen. 

"Two sausages--," then a smack and a fit of laughter as Taeyong promptly apologized for even daring to assume he could add himself into the equation. 

“Come on. I thought you were in a good mood this morning by the looks of that bright red hickey.”

“Yes and I don’t share what’s mine.” You almost stumbled on our own feet in the corridor.  

"I'm out of town this weekend, by the way. If you want to go all out…" was the last thing you heard and the one giving you the best idea for your new plan. 

_____

It was almost two in the morning and Johnny was nowhere to be seen. 

You rolled over on the bed with a huff then kicked the blanket staring at the lingerie you were wearing with sudden disgust. 

It was the weekend and the house was empty - the perfect occasion for you to play with Johnny. And where was he? Probably fucking somebody else. 

You were sick with anger. 

Getting out of the bed - his bed where you waited for him - you stripped out of the sexy lace and grabbed the first t-shirt you found. It was one of his and even though it was clean, it still smelled like Johnny. 

You got back under the covers and crossed your arms on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. 

It wasn’t jealousy. You didn’t care if Johnny fucked other people. It’s not like you even fucked properly in the first place. You were just irritated that your plan didn’t work as you wanted it to. 

With an argh you turned on your side and hugged the other pillow, Johnny’s scent engulfing you all again. 

God, he made you so mad. 

_____

The first thing you realized as you woke up was the fact that your room didn’t have a black accent wall. 

The second one was Johnny’s arms around you - one behind your head and the other one thrown around your waist. 

You were sleeping on your back, one hand placed on top of his and the other one on the veiny forearm. With one finger you followed one of them until reaching the bicep then you slowly turned your head to look at him in the face. 

He didn’t close the blinds when he came home last night so the sun was shining brightly behind him, making him look like an angel. 

You smiled for a moment, staring at his calm expression and listening to his regular breath before widening your eyes in horror and snapping out of your sweet thoughts. 

What was that? 

You didn’t care about John Suh and you definitely didn’t care about the way his caramel hair was draping on his forehead. 

“Mm,” his raspy voice accompanied his strong arms pulling you towards him as you tried to slip out of the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, eyes still closed and very much half asleep. 

You sighed and relaxed on your back again without a word and when Johnny rolled you over to face him you didn’t resist it. 

“Did you sleep well?”  “Where have you been?” you spoke on top of him. 

The words, or maybe your tone, made Johnny’s eyes open in an instant. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were low on his chest instead. He raised one hand to cup your cheek with the intent to make you look at him but you flinched. 

“What’s going on?” he questioned. 

You sighed again and shook your head. “Nothing. I’ll make breakfast.”

As you tried to get out of the bed again, Johnny’s arms didn’t want to leave your body. “Y/N. Wait. Stay.” 

His hand got to your face a second time and this time you locked eyes with him. 

“I was out. Like most weekends,” he explained. 

You gulped and nodded. “Good.” 

“No, it’s not good. You don’t seem to like that.” 

You didn’t add anything, neither denying nor confirming it.

Johnny’s eyebrows met in the middle. “You’ve never had a problem with that.” 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you finally managed to get out of bed and Johnny let you go this time. 

“I didn’t fuck anyone, if you’re wondering,” you heard him say as you walked the few steps towards the door. 

“I don’t care if you fuck people, Johnny.” 

“You do.”

Your feet stopped in place. “I don’t.” 

“You’ve just made the same expression you put on when you claim that you don’t want me to touch you and we both know that’s a lie.” His voice was calm but stern. “Just admit it.” 

You just resumed walking and exited the room. 

_____

It was weird and not something familiar to your gut, but every time you saw Johnny, you felt the urge to either kiss his lips, cry on the floor, punch his face or run away. 

The first was understandable, even if weird; the second one was absolutely weird and you had no idea what the fuck was going on with you; the third was also highly understandable. 

But it was the last one that you chose. 

So when Johnny entered the kitchen you got out. When he opened the door to his bedroom you closed yours. When he sat on the couch, you got up. 

Until he couldn’t take it anymore and barged into your room unannounced. 

“Hey! Knocking maybe?” 

You were on the bed, scrolling through your phone and looking absolutely impresentable. 

“Talk to me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play right now, John.” 

He walked over and sat on your bed. 

“I don’t want to play. You’re avoiding me.” 

“Look, it was fun for a while, but I don’t feel like continuing the little game we had going on. Let’s go back to how it was before.” Y

ou hoped you sounded convincing to him because you didn’t sound convincing to your own ears. 

Your words did make Johnny put on a sour expression though and you pretended to not notice. 

“Okay,” he said after a moment and you retrieved your phone from the bed, expecting the conversation to be over. 

Yet, when he placed his palm on your thigh your hand stopped in mid-air. 

“What are you doing?” 

He looked down to where his finger slowly caressed your skin, creating little goosebumps all over it. Then Johnny looked up and whatever expression you had on, it was enough for him as he suddenly got up and left the room. 

_____

“Brr, this house is colder than the heart of my elementary crush after he refused to share his food with me.” 

Both you and Johnny ignored Taeyong’s words, busy rolling your peas into your own plates. 

“What happened while I was away?” 

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled. 

“Hm,” the boy commented, munching on his food. “Wait,” he stopped, struck by realization, “ you mean like - nothing - happened? This is why you’re both mad? You didn’t fuck?” 

You rolled your eyes and got up with the plate in your hands. 

“She’s mad because she doesn’t want to admit that she has feelings for me.” 

The bomb that Johnny threw made both Taeyong and you shake in your places.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t have feelings for you.” 

Johnny calmly put down his fork and looked up at you. 

“Well, I do.” 

You opened your mouth in a silent shock while Taeyong initially gasped then soon after shrugged, whispering under his breath. “I mean, it was kinda obvious in his case.”

“And I don’t like the fact that you think I have space in my mind for other people besides you,” he continued. “Because it’s not true.” 

“Woah,” Taeyong rested his back on the chair as if watching a soap opera. 

“Did you really have to do this in the living room at dinner time?” you asked him after a few seconds of opening and closing your mouth like a fish. 

“Oh?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “You want to take this to the bedroom instead? Let’s go,” he got up suddenly. 

“Aw, guys, come on. You always hide the funniest stuff from me!” whined Taeyong seeing you leave. 

“You know what I mean!” you replied to Johnny but still followed his quickly moving frame inside his room. He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms on his chest as if waiting for you to talk. 

“What?” you imitated his position. 

“Say something?” 

“I don’t know what to say! What does one say after all of that?” you questioned. 

“Do something? I just said I am in love with-” 

In the end you did something and that something was wrapping his neck with your arms and kissing him deeply. 

Johnny remained still for a moment as if shocked before finally relaxing his arms and tightly pulling your body towards his. 

Your mind was empty and you had no idea what was going on but after a few seconds of tasting Johnny’s tongue you were already thrown on the bed. It creaked under Johnny’s force and you jolted at the way he dragged your pajama pants down. No sexy outfit and no lace lingerie to meet his eyes, yet they were full of such intensity and lust that you realized it didn’t matter at all. Hands in his hair, you raised your bust to connect your lips again. 

“I was so fucking mad you weren’t home that night. I thought I was about to go crazy,” you breathed out while Johnny was palming your torso, lifting up your t-shirt and cupping your breasts. 

“I know. Punish me then. Show me your anger,” he joked.  But his reply turned a switch into your body and you managed to push his chest away from you. He smiled at your reaction and rolled over on his back, letting you straddle his lap. 

“I’m going to tease you so much until you’ll be the one begging me to touch you.”  

Johnny caressed your thighs. “Hm. I don’t need any teasing. You’re breaking me with your mere presence. Please, please, touch me.” 

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you couldn’t see anymore. The grunts leaving Johnny’s throat as you bit into his neck were so hot that you wondered what stopped you from letting yourself hear them before. And when you moved to his chest, then stomach, littering his skin with love bites his muscles twitched under your touch. 

You had no words to describe how it felt to have him inside your mouth. Heavy, hot and so present, you choked only on a third of it. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, taking it out and pumping it instead with your hand. 

Johnny loved it anyways and he looked at you with such intensity that you wondered if you could make him cum with only a few kitty licks. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” he breathed out. 

“It’s alright. I know I have a monster cock and you don’t have to suck on it if you can’t handle being deepthroated,” you mocked him trying to imitate his tone. “Well, I want to and I will.”

And so you listened to Johnny’s airy chuckle, broken by the feeling of your mouth on him again, this time deeper than before. 

“You love a challenge, huh?” 

You would have said that, yes, you loved it and you loved to win, if it weren’t for his cock sliding down your throat making it difficult to talk. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s- oh shit-,” he grabbed your head as you bobbed your head up and down a few times before you couldn’t take it anymore and let it out with a lewd plop. 

“Baby?” you raised one eyebrow at him. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“Do I look like a baby to you?” you smiled with wet lips, your hand restlessly pumping his cock hard and fast. 

Johnny grunted again, his hips rising to meet your touch even more. 

“Hm, no, you look like a little slut right now,” he agreed with a smirk before his expression changed again into, you realized in that moment, the best view you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Head thrown back and completely at your mercy, Johnny came hard, his whole body twitching as his cum spurted on your hand and face. 

“I think I won this time,” you pumped him a few more times before letting him go. “Hm, you drink so much coffee,” you smacked your lips after licking his cum off your fingers. 

“This wasn’t part of the game.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve just decided that it was,” you shrugged. 

Johnny grabbed his discarded t-shirt and cleaned his stomach. “So, are we playing now?”

His tone got dangerous and his expression made your wet pussy even drippier but you had no time to worry or form a single thought about it since you suddenly found yourself with the face on the mattress instead. 

You turned your head sideways to be able to breathe and Johnny’s hands didn’t even try to be gentle when they pulled your panties down. 

The loud smack arrived before the sensation of his big palm on your asschecks could. When you finally felt the burning sensation, another slap added to that. 

Your fingers grabbed Johnny’s blanket, preparing yourself for the third spank, absolutely not expecting his tongue inside of you instead. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-” you mewled but your sounds only made Johnny more ferocious, hands opening you up, eating you out as if he’d been dying to do so for a long time. And it was true for yourself too, but no imagination of yours could have realistically portrayed the way he was making you feel and no fingers of yours could reach as deep as his did, fingering you fast, tongue not stopping for a second, not even when you violently went over the edge with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard yourself emit. 

“You win, you win-,” your rough throat tried to stop him from torturing your overstimulated clit and you heard him suck on his fingers after he let you go. 

“Okay, I’ll take it. But this is just the beginning. Are you going to let me fuck you, baby?” he caressed your ass, going down to your waist and cupping your breasts. 

The movement made his cock poke at your entrance and you imperceptibly opened your legs even more. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered back, turning your head to meet his lips as he lifted your chin. 

“Hm? Say that again?” 

“Please.” 

His tip easily slipped inside but the stretch still made you hiss through your teeth. Johnny shushed you, kissing your shoulder and neck until he bottomed out. “You can handle it, right baby?” You tried to nod but his first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and you let your head fall down again with a whine. 

Johnny moved again and again then stopped with a grunt. “Beg a little for me again.” 

You bit your lower lip, his tip pressing right when you needed it to and you wanted him to do it non stop. 

“I don’t think I will beg again,” you whispered with a smile and started to move your hips instead. It was a sloppy and slow job, nowhere sharp and quick as Johnny’s, but you had to win again. 

The man let your ass bounce on his stomach a few times, staring at the way you were stretched around him then he grabbed your waist and left you all empty. 

You whined, clenching yet nothing being inside of you anymore. 

“I said beg.” 

His breath was now on your spine, his wet mouth placing kisses on your skin, making it shiver and taking some of it in his teeth, sucking on it until he was satisfied. 

But you remained silent and he clicked his tongue at your stubbornness. In a single go he filled you up again and this time he never stopped. 

He was breaking you in half and if you hadn’t already had tears in your eyes, this would have been the time to start crying from pleasure. 

“Holy fucking shit--John-” you cried out, breath rhytmically broken by his deep thrusts and when he added his slaps again, you just lost it all, cumming so hard that the neighbors were probably ready to call an ambulance. 

Johnny stopped balls deep inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around him. And when you thought it was over, when you barely started to hear again, he moved as hard as before, shushing you and pressing his fingers roughly into your skin. 

“You can handle another round, right baby? You’re such a pretty little slut with a bigger attitude than she can carry. This is nothing for you.” 

Fucked dumb, you could only nod and Johnny started to lose control himself, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, some drops falling from his collabones to his chest. And when you felt his cum spurt inside of you, you finally begged, repeating it again and again. Johnny didn’t stop and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day when your muscles contracted for the nth time in so little time, collapsing completely after Johnny slowly slipped out of you. 

His breath felt wet and boiling on your face when he dropped beside you. 

He swallowed a few times trying to catch his breath. “Fucking finally. I knew it was going to be epic. Why did you refuse me for so long? Look what you missed.” 

You would have snorted if you had the force so you resorted to just let out a whine. “I refused so I couldn’t see this. I have a big attitude? Well, you have the biggest ego in the world.” 

Johnny turned his head towards you. “And cock.” 

You rolled your eyes and accepted his hands pulling you towards his chest. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead. “And you love it.” “No,” you denied it, “butIloveyou,” you added quickly. 

Johnny shook your body in a hug. “Hm?? Say that again.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

That grown man pouted at you making his eyes wide and glossy. “Please?” 

“Whoa,” you smiled, “are you acting cute at me right now? After killing me with your monster cock?” 

Johnny nodded cutely and repeated the plea. 

“Okay, okay. I-- love you.” 

He chuckled happily and tightened his arms around you again, squeezing you in an almost mortal hug. 

“Again.”

You sighed realizing that you were suddenly dealing with a child. 

“I love you.” 

And you repeated it again and again until you were sure that he finally fell asleep. 

With one hand to caress his face you finally indulged in staring at him, fully realizing what that weird sensation in your gut was. 

“I really love you.” 

Your whisper was tiny and barely audible but Johnny smiled. 

“I know. And I love you too.”

#johnny #johnny suh #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct johnny smut #johnny scenarios #nct scenarios #taeyong #taeyong smut

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you���re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. ���Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot au #eren yaeger smut #attack on titan au #eren yeager au

[yslkook]

far away facetimes

pairing: taehyung x reader

warnings: cursing, alcohol (because it’s me)

a/n: yes i know i said i wasnt going to flesh anything out but here we are. i write vibes only, no plot. read this, it’s kind of a part one. inspired by @taetaespeaches bc liv is the keeper of all vibes

***

it’s still new. whatever you and taehyung are doing. you miss him when he’s not around, which is most times. but you can’t tell if he feels the same.

You think he does, and that it’s your anxious mind telling you otherwise.

he calls you close to 3 PM, meaning it’s close to 4 AM for him. you’re only in your apartment, drafting plans and thoughts for your upcoming podcast episodes in your office corner. Which is really just a desk and some pretty things in your living room.

It’s cozy, as taehyung has said before. To which, you’ve always just scoffed- what would he know about cozy, anyway?

You answer his FaceTime quickly, before the second ring.

“Hi-“

An exclamation of your name and taehyung’s wide eyes is what you hear and see. Jungkook is next to him, but not looking at the screen. And Jin on his other side.

You sink in your seat. You wonder what he’s told the boys about you.

“Hi, Taehyung,” you say sheepishly.

Another call of your name. It sounds sweet on his lips.

It looks like they’re in a car and the closer you look, you see Jungkook falling asleep.

“Hi,” taehyung says, “I missed you.”

His voice is raspy, the kind of rasp that comes with alcohol. You know he’s not a big drinker, but still the sentiment warms your heart.

“I missed you,” You mumble, “where are you coming back from?”

“Dinner and karaoke,” Jin answers for Taehyung.

Jin’s words are slurred, his cheeks flushed. Jin takes taehyung’s phone despite his protests and you’re met with Jin’s handsome face and drunk eyes.

“Did you have fun, Seokjin?” You ask with a laugh.

“Of course we did. We always have fun,” Jin grins, “would’ve been even more fun if you were here. Especially for Tae-“

Taehyung snatches the phone back from Jin, and Jin erupts into peals of laughter. Your cheeks burn in the best way.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of my girl,” Taehyung says, but there’s no heat behind it.

Your heart stops and your brain short circuits. His girl?

Butterflies erupt in your belly and you’re certain you’re thirteen again, with your first crush.

“What’re you doin, sweetheart?” Taehyung says, focusing his eyes on you.

“Just some work. It’s like... 3 pm here,” You reply, pretending like the pet name doesn’t send a wave of affection through you.

“Workin hard,” Taehyung beams, “so what’re you wearin, sweetheart?”

The affronted gasp you give him is enough to send him into a fit of laughter, leaning against Jin to catch his breath.

“I’m kidding. I’ll wait till I’m alone to ask,” He says, and Jungkook stirs from the movement.

“You woke Jungkook up. Stupid,” You shake your head and ignore the flaming in your cheeks.

Jungkook looks at taehyung’s phone for a minute before realizing it’s you.

He shouts your name and then, “Come back soon, we miss you!”

“I will, Jungkook,” you murmur, fondness for him spreading through your chest, “Sleep well, honey.”

“Hey, you don’t call me honey,” Taehyung pouts.

“Because you ask me what I’m wearing in front of your friends,” you deadpan.

You hear Jin giggling in the background and can’t help your own laughter.

“Call me when you get inside,” You offer, “Be safe.”

Taehyung nods and waves at you before ending the call. You’re already looking forward to speaking with him again. You missed him more than you thought.

It’s not to say that life stopped when you didn’t speak with him. Most of your relationships and friendships have always been somewhat long-distance- going weeks without talking and it being normal when you catch up.

But with Tae, it’s different. You want to hear about whatever is happening as it happens, not after the fact.

He calls twenty minutes later, once he’s in his pajamas, his face is washed and he’s under the covers. The faint glow of the lamp illuminated the soft planes of his face. You’re struck with the desire to push his hair back, and your stomach churns in loneliness.

“Hi again,” you chirp and wiggle your fingers in greeting, “Everyone safe in bed?”

“Yeah. We had to carry Jungkook upstairs to bed,” Taehyung says fondly, “and Jimin brought a girl home.”

“Of course he did,” you laugh, “what about you? Where’s your girl?”

You want to hear him say it again, and you both know it.

“My girl’s in New York City. The big Apple. You might know her,” Taehyung says coyly.

Your heart skips a beat and you can’t stop the bashful smile from spreading.

“It’s a big city, Tae. You might have to come show me.”

“Or you can come here. And I can introduce you.”

“That would be nice, huh?” You say dreamily, “Explore Seoul with my own tour guide?”

“That’s all I am to you? A tour guide?”

“Were you expecting more, baby?” You laugh, the pet name slipping from your lips easily.

“Seriously, Kook was right. You should come back soon,” Taehyung murmurs.

“I will, Tae. I want to,” you promise, “you should come here, too. You’d like Brooklyn. You’d like everything about the city.”

“Should we bet on it? That I’d like it?”

“Either way, I think I win.”

Taehyung yawns widely, snuggling into his comforter. The urge to push his hair back strikes once more, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed.

It doesn’t feel normal to you, and Taehyung is nothing if not perceptive.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

“N-nothing,” You say quickly, “I just-I just miss you, miss you more than I thought I would, and you make me feel vulnerable in a good way, but I’m not used to it.”

You cut off your rambling with an embarrassed sigh. He’s smiling at you in his signature boxy way and you wonder if you’ve scared him off. It appears not.

“I’m not very used to it either. But I think we both have to get used to it if we want to see where this goes...” Taehyung murmurs.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve never been so far outside of my comfort zone. But... you’re right, Tae,” you murmur, “I’ll let you sleep. It’s almost 5 AM there.”

“Goodnight, princess,” Tae says with a yawn. He cracks an eye open for your reaction- he’s testing our pet names for you and trying to gauge your reactions on what you like.

If the flustered wave of your hands and shy goodbye is anything to go by, he’d say that you quite like ‘Princess’.

***

Your eyes are glassy and blown as you stare at yourself in the mirror. The mirror itself is dirty and smudged, but you can still see your dark eyes and dark hair. In fact, you’re nearly seeing two of yourself in your reflection. You run a hand over your face with an annoyed groan.

It’s a Wednesday night, you were only supposed to go out for happy hour with your good friend, and somehow that turned into a mini bar crawl. You and Pari are at your third bar of the night, and it’s only 8 PM.

It didn’t hit you, how drunk you were, until you had caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And then you start to giggle to yourself about it.

Without thinking twice, you text Taehyung. Or at least, you try to. Once you press send, you tuck your phone in your bag and head back out to the bar, already forgetting that you had texted him.

You’re at the bar again, next to Pari. She hugs you close as if you weren’t gone for only five minutes. You had both made some friends, friends whose names you can’t remember for the life of you. But you’re having fun, dancing and singing along with strangers and a drink in your hand.

Pari was more of the social butterfly out of the both of you- but that wasn’t to say that you weren’t in your element. It just took you longer to feel comfortable. 

Your lips are loose for the most part, but you still have your wits about you somewhat. 

Pari has an arm around your waist as you both stand at the bar and bounce along to the beat. A boy, really a man, approaches Pari from her right side. He looks familiar, from somewhere. It takes you about forty-five seconds to realize that he’s one of Pari’s coworkers.

“Go! Go have fun,” You say excitedly, pushing her towards him.

And then you’re alone, with your drink. You pull your phone out, checking your notifications with just one eye open. The words on your phone blur together if both your eyes are open.

Maybe you don’t have all of your wits about you.

You lean back against the bar, elbows propped up and nearly slip on the wet floor. The boots you’re wearing have a flimsy sole that doesn’t provide much support. You’re fully prepared to fall on your ass- it’s not like it hasn’t happened before- but a pair of arms catches you before you can. Warmth bursts through you, after all, it’s not often that you’ve been touched this way.

“Uh,” You say eloquently and look up at your savior.

“Saw you about to fall. I guess you can call me your knight in shining armor, huh?” He says with a wink and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, you wish,” You scoff without missing a beat, “Corny. I’ll buy you a drink. To say thank you.”

He stands closer to you but you hardly notice. You’re busy wondering if Taehyung has texted you, your thoughts floating away. But you’re still here.

“A pretty girl buying me a drink? Sign me up,” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

You only smile at him, bright and brilliant, and you don’t even realize that the boy’s breath catches when he sees you smile.

“Pick your poison,” You murmur, leaning close to him. Close enough that you can see the wet sheen of his lips.

He tells you what drink he wants but then follows it up with something he thinks is smooth, “can I pick you, too?”

You laugh despite yourself, “You can try. Doesn’ mean I’ll let you.”

He pouts at you and you laugh again. Maybe you’re being mean. He’s cute, big eyes and a pretty smile. But he’s not your Taehyung. 

You’re suddenly hit with a tidal wave of missing him.

“Why not?”

“I have a boy-” You cut yourself off. Boyfriend isn’t the right word. “I have a boy thing.”

“A boy thing.”

“Yes,” You reply, “Enjoy. Sure I’m not the only pretty girl buyin’ you drinks.”

With that, you stumble away and pull out your phone again. Your stomach flips happily when you see that Taehyung has texted you. Three times to be exact-

you: h you: h you: hi

tae: h tae: h tae: hi

you: hi  you: tae

At the thought of him, you’re overwhelmed with the desire to go to bed and call him. You search for Pari, spotting her with the boy from earlier who had approached her at the bar. They’re making out in a not so secluded corner of the bar. You order yourself a water and take a seat at a booth, holding back a yawn.

You finish two glasses of water, before wondering if you should maybe go home after determining what Pari’s plan of action is. Your phone buzzes on the table.

tae: hi tae: princess tae: what are you doing

you: drinking you: drinking water you: alcohol before. water 

tae: good girl

You don’t pretend like that doesn’t send a bolt of excitement through you.

tae: can i call?

You’re already calling him before even replying, despite the loud music and chatter that surrounds you- you just want to hear his voice.

“Good morning,” Taehyung says once he answers.

“Hi,” You mumble, “Good morning. ‘S nighttime here.”

“Yeah, that’s time for ya,” He teases, “I can’t hear you well, Princess.”

“Shuttup,” You laugh, “still at the bar. Gonna ask Pari what she wants to do...”

“Text me until then?” Taehyung asks.

“Okay,” You breathe, “Talk to you soon.”

Pari has pulled away from her hookup and makes her way over to you. You offer her an eager wave as she tells you all about the boy she was hooking up with.

“Who were you on the phone with?” Pari asks curiously.

“Uh. Tae,” You shrug sheepishly.

Pari squeals excitedly, asking you a million questions a minute.

“Oh stop,” You wave her off, “I’ll tell you about ‘m tomorrow. What are you doin’ tonight?”

“Think I wanna g’home with him,” Pari grins and wiggles her eyebrows.

“I knew it! Need condoms?” You ask, “’cause I don’t have...”

“Nah, I’m good. ‘M prepared,” Pari winks, “We’ll ride home with you. And leave from your place.”

“What? No, I can go home by myself,” You protest stubbornly but she silenced you with a look, “‘m not even that drunk!”

She only rolls her eyes at you, already calling for an Uber. You don’t fight her on it, instead chugging your water. You wave at Pari’s new friend, who looks awkward and adorable just standing there. He sits next to Pari and relaxes when you introduce yourself-

“I mean since Pari hasn’t. What a jerk,” you giggle at her offended look.

“Probably afraid we’ll tag team her,” He agrees, ruffling Pari’s hair.

“Oh, haven’t we already?” You reply easily and Pari glares at you both fondly.

“I don’t like this,” Pari informs you, “Wish your boy thing was here so we could tag team.”

At the mention of Taehyung you sink in your seat as your cheeks heat up. You truly don’t remember the last time a boy has held your attention for as long as he has.

You wonder if it will fade. You hope not.

“How far is the Uber,” You ask, changing the subject. Pari doesn’t notice, and she jumps up when she exclaims that it’s here.

You sit in the front seat, allowing Pari and her friend to cuddle in the back. And also allowing you to text Taehyung with no questions from your friend.

you: hi. Going home now tae: alone? You: no, Pari and her friend are riding w me tae: ok good. call when you get home? you: yes pls

You contemplate sending a yellow heart emoji, but by the time you finish thinking about it, it appears your thumbs have done the thing anyway.

you: 💛 tae: 💛💛

You stifle the giddiness that erupts in your chest.

Once you’re changed, out of your clothes and into pajamas and bare faced, you climb into bed with a yawn and finally FaceTime Taehyung. You’re still a little tipsy, the alcohol wearing off before.

“Tae,” You murmur when he answers, your voice hoarse, “Hi.”

“Hi pretty,” Taehyung replies and again, it sends your heart into a frenzy.

He looks good, and you lick your lips without realizing it. He’s wearing glasses, his hair shiny and a light brown, bangs parted on either side of his forehead. And you see a mint green sweater on him.

“How was your night-“

“You look really good-“

You say at the same time and you laugh with him.

“You look good,” He counters, “Saw those pictures you sent me with your friend. You’re pretty in those and you’re pretty now.”

“Oh stop,” You wave him off and avoid meeting his eyes.

He only smiles at you, in that way.

You tell him about your night, how you were only supposed to have one drink which turned into going to three bars. You tell him about your new friends who are still nameless and about Pari’s hookup.

“I think a boy was trying to talk to me. He said I was pretty, after he caught me before I fell. Bought him a drink to say thanks. And then he said ‘how can I say no to a drink from a pretty girl’- I mean how corny-“

“He was definitely trying to get your number, princess,” Taehyung says, “what did you say?”

“Made fun of him. And then said I had a boy thing,” You say easily with a laugh.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

“Wow, look at you putting two and two together.”

“What does that make you? My girl thing? Is that what I should call you?” Taehyung asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, his hand under his chin.

You hardly hear his question, he sounds muted for a second when you catch a glimpse of his tanned skin. A thin necklace sits at the base of his neck and you swallow nervously.

“Huh?” You answer, “Oh. You can call me whatever y’wanna call me.”

Tae only gives you a smile, the kind of smile that lights up his entire face in response. Your heart flutters again but you maintain eye contact with him.

“Even... my girl?”

“Think were passed that, sweetheart. Just ask Jin and Kook,” You grin.

“I’m tryin’ to be cute,” Taehyung nearly whines.

“Try a little harder.”

And this time he does whine and pouts at you. You wonder if he can tell how flustered you are, how wired you feel. Just from his words.

“What is it?” Taehyung asks, seeing you retreat back into your mind.

“Hmm?”

“You’re floating away from me. Come back to me, princess,” Taehyung murmurs.

You want to be vulnerable to him, expose bits and pieces of some of your not so nice parts. Maybe someday you will. But not today.

You want to admit to him that you’re not used to this, to the pet names, the missing a boy to this degree, the wanting him as much as you do. You want to bare your lonely heart out to him, but something holds you back.

“Uh, well if I’m your girl. Does that mean you’re my boy?” You ask with a bright grin, pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind.

Taehyung takes a few seconds to reply, words stolen by your pretty smile. And yet, he’s seen your smile burn brighter.

“I mean, that’s how it works, sweetheart,” Taehyung rolls his eyes with a laugh.

“I suppose, if I must,” You say with a yawn.

“Don’t make it sound like such a chore. To be my girl, I mean.”

“I’m honored. To be the chosen one.”

Taehyung stays on the phone with you until you start to doze off and jolt yourself awake. He has to go anyway, to get ready to do some more press with the boys.

“Sleep well, princess,” Taehyung’s voice is low and sweet, curling around you and pushing you closer to sleep. You mumble a response to him and say goodbye to him, sleep washing over you as soon as you hang up.

Before you fall asleep, you text Pari a quick text, telling her to let you know if she needs anything. And then you welcome sleep.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung #bts x reader #taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung imagine #bts imagine

[kimnjss]

get even | ksj

⤑  series: sugar free

⤑ genre: angst, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 4.4K

⤑ warnings: humilation (it’s not a kink here tho), suggestive topics, nudity... (this lowkey pretty tame, ngl).

⤑ A/N: a little late, but i literally just finished this and did like a half ass job editing it, buuut i really wanted to get this out bc OHMYGOD (you’ll see) - don’t forget to let me know what you think, your feedback is my favorite! x

A bet. The second the words left Yuna's lips you felt your blood begin to boil. Was that what all of this was? Why Jin had been so persistent to be around you, to get you to like him... so he could win a measly 100 bucks from his friends. That was it?

 You felt sick to the stomach, on the verge of screaming at the top of your lung. How could you allow yourself to be so stupid? To not be able to see past the cheap facade, protect yourself like you had done countless times before. To think you were slowly starting to melt, starting to see yourself becoming comfortable around him. Smiling a bit too wide when texting him into the late hours of the night, moving a little too fast when his name was lighting up your screen.

 He had been playing you for a fool this entire time and the only thing you could think of was how could you get even. At this point, he had no idea that you were on to him. Still thought that everything was going according to his plan, boy was he wrong. You were going to get him back, flip the tables so he was the one left licking his wounds. Who the hell did he think he was?

 The idea came to you a few hours after hanging up with Yuna. The anger that had blinded you earlier finally subsiding enough for you to properly check the messages that had been flooding your inbox in the time since. Most of which were from the group chat of your best friends. Making a mental note to tell Yoongi about his role in this bet as well, you immediately clicked on the latest message from Jin.

[15:59] seokjin: did you pick a movie for tonight, yet?? i saw something you might like.

 Instantly you're scoffing at the reminder that you were supposed to be out with this man in a little over an hour. You had actually been looking forward to this date, a more relaxed setting where you two could truly be yourselves around each other. The hell with that now. 

 Quickly, you were typing back your response. Ignoring the fact that it was coming in three hours too late. He could wait. If he felt like he could use you as a ploy in this stupid game with his friends. Then he could wait a few hours for your reply.

[18:12] to seokjin: oooh, surprise me then! im getting ready right now, see you in a bit?

 Rolling your eyes at your overly enthusiastic you're standing from your position on your bed, moving to your dresser to pick something to wear tonight.

 When you were in your early teens and just getting to know Namjoon and his friends, not a day would go by without an argument between you and Jungkook to take place. He always felt the need to try and one-up you, always had an opinion on what you were saying, and never believed you were as smart as him.

 The fact you got into your shared middle school solely on recommendation had nothing to do with his thought conclusion. Anyway, something that young Jungkook found extremely amusing was pranking. Loved the thought of tricking someone to the point of them getting upset only for him to shout: 'Relax, it's just a prank.' It was his favorite pass time, especially when you were involved.

 Quickly, you were picking up on his tactics and soon enough you were able to counter all of his 'well thought out' deceptions in a way he was the one with the egg on his face in the end. Fast forward years later, you and Jungkook hardly argued as much and he found more interested in girls than pranks... but that didn't mean you forgot how to play along.

 The forced learned deception would be applied tonight. How dare that boy think he could pull a fast one on you and get off scratch free? Yeah, right. There was going to be hell to pay. And you were going to make sure of it.

 Despite the fact, this was only a movie date and you could pretty much dress down when sitting in a dark room for hours, what you wore held a big part of your plan for tonight. Of course, you didn't want to make it obvious that your goal was to turn heads. Something subtle but undeniably sexy that his jaw was dropping at the first sight of you.

 It had been a while since you wore your bright red mini skirt and it fit tighter than you remembered. Deciding the tightness fit the theme of tonight, you're tucking your long sleeve black turtleneck into the skirt; admiring the way the form-fitting material highlights the natural curves of your body. 

 A large heart belt to give your waist that extra snatch and short black boots to tie it all together. Yeah, this guy is not going to know what hit him once he caught sight of you – you were sure of that much.

 Makeup had never really been something that you cared a whole lot for. Loved the way a bare face felt as opposed to being caked up for hours. Tonight was an exception though, you had to play the part, right?

 One short, way too detailed YouTube tutorial later, and you're being interrupted by the knock on your front door. With a final swipe of lip gloss onto your softened lips, you're moving from the mirror to answer the door.

 “Oh! Are you early or am I running late?” Jin stands on the other door, a large hoodie covering his slender figure and black jeans clinging to his legs. He eyes you shamelessly, seeming to have missed the words that had just left your lips. Bingo! “Here come in, I'm almost done,” You're turning, leading him into your house acting as if you hadn't noticed the way his eyes dropped when he thought your back was too him.

 Too freaking easy. Guys were too easy, it was sad.

 Just for good measure, you lead him to your couch; delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist. You're gesturing him to sit with a gentle tug of his wrist and his body moves accordingly, eyes never once lifting from you.

 “I'll just be another minute,” You promise, watching as he pushes a smile on his face before nodding. You make your way down the corridor and into your bedroom, honestly finished with getting ready but not against making the boy sweat for a little bit.

 Ten full minutes pass by of you just sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone before you're deciding that it was time to go. Jin stands as soon as you're exiting the room, composure back in check – that familiar smug look settled on his features once again. He spares you only a single glance as if he hadn't been full-on drooling when you first had opened the door.

 “You ready?” His voice sounds deeper than you remember and you can't help but wonder if he was forcing it in hopes to impress you. Not caring much to mull over the question, you're nodding your head. The heels of your boots clack against the hardwood floor as you move to meet his side.

 Jin thoughtlessly slides his arm around your waist, a simple gesture that pulls an annoying reaction from you. He leads you out of the front door, waiting patiently on the steps as you lock up.

 “No, Minho?” You're asking, noticing the absence of the shiny SUV parked on the curb. Jin is shaking his head, digging into his front pockets for something you can only assume is a key due to the metallic jingle filling your ears. “Gave him the night off... it's just me and you,” He grins and you smile back, of course, your master plan in mind and in no way a natural reaction to the sight of his contagious smile.

 He's pulling a silver key from his pocket, clicking the remote and you nearly jump at the sound of the beep. Bright lights illuminating the headlights of the sport's car parked just a few feet from your building. “Is that your car!?” Wondering out loud and neglecting to check the excitement in your tone.

 Jin watches with a knowing grin as you make your way over to the vehicle, cautious palms sliding over the fresh paint. You couldn't believe what you were staring at. A 2019 Alfa Romeo Giulia in the shade midnight black; an all-red leather interior... were you going to be sitting in that? This was what he was going to be taking you to the movies in?

 “It's nice, right? Got it for my birthday last year... a little bored of it now, though.” You hear the cocky tone of his voice, the 'I'm-so-much-richer-than-you' twang that has your blood boiling. With a roll of your eyes, hands now stiff and dropping to your side you step back.

 “It's alright,” You say with a shrug, pulling the passenger's side door open and sliding in before he even has the chance to reach for it. No point in keeping up with his fake gentlemen facade, you could very well open your own doors.

 Despite your slight shift in mood, Jin is still smiling. Not thinking twice about you not letting him open up the door you and sliding in on his side. Instantly, he's pulling his seat belt on; twisting the key in the ignition and you melt at the hum of the engine coming to life.

 “What's the movie you picked?” You're asking as a few moments of silence passed, the only sound that had filled the car in the past eight minutes was the radio that he liked to keep on low for some reason. 

 His gaze is shooting in your direction, eyes wide as if he hadn't expected to hear your voice just then. You offer up a gentle smile, blinking your eyes cutely up at him as you wait for his response. Jin's adam's apple bobs as he turns his attention back onto the road.

 “It. Have you already gone? It came out a few weeks ago,”

 You're shaking your head, ignoring the fact that if you had been the one to choose the movie for tonight – that would have been your choice. Even if you had already seen it, horror films were at the top of your list of faves... which was weird, because you had it on pretty good standing that Jin wasn't into scary movies.

 Either way, it wasn't like you planned on having him pay all that much attention to the movie in the first place.

 As expected, Jin paid for both your ticket and his. He purchased a large bucket of popcorn for the two of you to share and a couple of drinks to counter to salty effects of the treat. What a shame he was actually a douche bag, otherwise you would've swooned at his catering.

 Seats smartly chosen in the back row, where you could see the entire movie screen clearly but avoid being spotted by the other moviegoers. With the risk of being obvious, you lifted the armrest that divided your two seats long before the movie had started. Forty minutes in and several popcorn jerking jumps after, you were taking advantage of your early decision.

 “It's a bit cold in here, don't you think?” You spoke with a pout, eyes lifting to grasp his attention. He was staring at you, head shaking in a nod and you could tell he was searching his mind for ways to make you more comfortable. How sweet. “Should we sit a bit closer?” Voice laced with velvet, you're already scooting over the gap before he can disagree.

 Not like he planned to, the moment Jin's realizing what's going on; he's moving to close any left space between you two. His arm lifting to wrap around your shoulders as he tucks your body into his side. The movement so fluid and natural that you can't help but wonder how many times he's pulled the same move – no prompting needed.

 A few moments passed with your body cradled in his arms, his warmth surrounding you, and the strong scent of his cologne intoxicating you. You had noticed this the first time the two of you went out, Jin was well put together in his clothes and he always smelt so good. Not sure what it was, but the way that he smelt never failed to make your stomach flip.

 But it wasn't the time for that. Right now, it was time to put your perfect revenge plan into action. Delicately, the tips of his fingers ran over the swell of his chest, admiring the way the muscle felt underneath your digits. Dropping your hand lower, you spread your palm against his abs. 

 He had been so invested in the movie during your initial contact, that he hadn't noticed the feeling of your fingers on his chest... or chose not to acknowledge it. Now that you were tracing the ridges of his abs, his eyes were on you, slightly wide as he tried to figure exactly what you were playing at.

 You shot him an innocent smile, the tip of your index finger running over the curve of his bellybutton. Flinching at the contact, he blinked hard; breath caught in his throat as he waited. “I never knew you were so... strong,” Voice coming out in a purr, the tip of your finger trailing up the middle of his stomach. 

 Jin visibly gulped, confusion dancing over his brow as he shifted beside you. Not sure how to react to your sudden shift in behavior. You didn't care to slow down, to explain it to him – this was what he wanted, right?

 “I'm finding it so hard to pay attention to the movie,” Scooting closer to him, your hand drops down onto his thigh. Giving the muscle a light squeeze as you lean your body up, lips inches from his pink ears. “Do you want to know why?” You whispered, lips gently brushing over his lobe.

 “W-why?” He cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat; trying to avoid looking in your direction. If he was to turn his head, your lips would be mere inches apart. Just a simple twitch forward and you'd be kissing. No way he'd be able to keep his cool if that were to happen, so he kept his gaze forward. Not risking it.

 Fine with you, you weren't done playing. Thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of his pants, mouth closing around his earlobe. You felt him shudder, making a smirk rise on your lips. “I can't stop thinking about you... all the things we could be doing instead of being cooped up in here...”

 Jin was no fool, not the one to waste any time. If you were acting like this, saying that you were down there was no way he was going to pass up an opportunity like this. He'd just catch the movie when it came out on Netflix. “Should we go then?” He's mustering up all the courage he can manage to turn his head, dark eyes finding yours in the dim-lit room. 

 A bit surprised with his quick agreement, you're not letting it show on your face. You're grinning at his words, standing from your seat, and taking hold of his hand. Jin allows you to pull him up from his seated position, his hand landing on your hip. “Wait, slow down.” He's whispering, being considerate to the people scattered you.

 “You sure?” Head nodding before you had a chance to mull over his thought process in checking up at you. Reaching for his free hand, you're wiggling out of his grasp and tugging him behind you out of the theater.

 Both of you moving so fast, laughter slipping past his lips at your haste and you can't help but join in. You can feel the gaze of the people around you, but you don't care. Don't even bother to present an apology too wrapped up in enjoying yourself and trying to push away the warmth rising in your chest. Now wasn't the time for that.

 Jin's stopping you the second the cool night air is hitting your exposed skin. His hand twisting in your grasp until he's able to take hold of your hand. Easily, he's pulling your body into his and flashing you that heart-stopping smile of his. Chests pressed together, breaths mixing and you hadn't realized you had been breathing so heavily before.

 Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare up at him, his eyes searching yours. He's slow with the way he closes the negative space between the two of you, his hands lifting to cup your cheeks. And he's leaning in, lips finding yours... the smile breaking onto your lips before you have the chance to fight it.

 He's kissing you so slowly and delicately as if you were made of glass. Hands cool against your heated cheeks and you can feel his smile over your mouth. It was all becoming too much, your heart getting too involved over a stupid kiss... this was not part of the plan!

 You're pulling away at the feeling of his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, looking up at him with your lip caught between your teeth; trying to look as sexy as possible in this situation. “Come on, we'll have much more fun once we're alone...” Discreet in the way you gesture to the family of five that were making their way into the theater.

 Jin's following you without a word, the grin never falling from his plump lips. He's leading you this time, quick steps are taken to his car where he opens your door for you. You get comfortable against the seats, watching as he jogs around to the other side to slide in beside you.

 All giddy and smiley, excited that he was about to get some. That he was about to win this stupid bet he and his friends thought would be a good idea... boy, he had no idea what was coming.

 Thick laughter leaves your lips as you stumble into your bedroom with tangled feet. Jin's lips haven't left your skin since you were pushing your front door shut, fingers gripping at your hips, eagerly drumming at the exposed skin. He's turning your body to gently push you back against the door, lips dropping to capture yours.

 “Don't think... I'll... get tired, of kissing you,” He breaths out deeply, sentence carelessly strewn together his sole focus was the way he was moving his tongue in your mouth. And a skillful tongue it was, too bad this couldn't go all that far – you'd love to know how that tongue in other places...

 You're kissing him back with just as much fervor, hands sliding down the front of his shirt until you can grip the hem of the shirt. Slowly you drag it up, inch by inch revealing his well worked on torso to ghosts of your bedroom. He's pulling back then, hands reaching for yours to assist you in his disrobing.

 A moment is spared to admire just what he had been hiding underneath all that fabric. Oh, what a shame... Leaning on your toes, you're taking his lips in another lingering kiss careful not to push too far. Plan would go to shit if you were allowing yourself to get lost in his soft kisses.

 Easily, you move from your position against the door. Jin watches you the entire short walk to your bed, body turning so he can get a better look at you. You make a show of the way you climb toward your headboard, bare legs crossed as you look up at him. Beckoning him over with your finger, Jin is quick to spring to action, all but running over to the edge of your bed.

 He's waiting, noticing how you stopped him just before he was about to climb into bed right on top of you. If only. What a shame. Jin's eyes drop to your thighs, catching the way you rub them together as your teeth nibble at your lower lip. “Take your pants off,” The command coming out whiner than you had hoped but Jin's hands are quick. His eyes on you the whole time he's unfastening his belt and dropping his pants to his ankles.

 You're careful not to let your eyes bulge at the sight of the size of his erection, straining against his boxers and just begging for some attention. A rub. A suck. Something. If circumstances were different, you would've been on your knees by now. Begging for a taste. What a shame.

 “These too,” The finger you had began to nibble at falls from your mouth, arm extending until you're able to reach him. You trace the tip of your finger over his covered shaft because, fuck... you can't help yourself.

 Jin shudders, mouth dropping and you can swear you see his dick twitch underneath the fabric. “You're fucking perfect.” He groans, quick to pull his bottoms down his legs, not even reacting to the way his cock bobs free, slapping against his hipbone. Fuck, he was huge, unbelievably thick, and beautifully veiny. Whoever said God was fair...

 Swinging your legs toward the edge of the bed, you're reaching for his hip; pulling his body toward you gently. Forcing your eyes from his pretty cock up to his face. Ignoring the urge to wrap your lips around the tip, just a taste. That couldn't hurt, right? “You think I'm perfect?” There's sincerity in your voice, still not over the initial shock felt when the compliment was falling from his lips.

 You couldn't lose your head now, though. Not when you were already so close to your goal. Jin is nodding his head without a second thought and you're grinning, leaning back just a bit so you can get a better look at his face.

 “Worth a hundred bucks?” 

 His eyes turn to moons the moment your words are registering. “W-what? How do you... how do you know about that?” He's stepping back just as you're shooting up from your bed.

 “What do you mean how do I know!? How could you try to humiliate me like that!?” You had spent so much time planning and re-planning your revenge that you hadn't put any time into thinking of what you were going to say once the jig was up. Mostly because you were so hurt by what he had done and you couldn't think of a way to express that without punching him a good one.

 “I mean-,” You're moving around the room, collecting the clothes that he had carelessly thrown down in the mindset he was going to become a richer man tonight. “Who even does something like that!? Is making a quick buck really that important to you?” You felt yourself holding back, wanted to ask how dare he make you like him just to turn out to be like any other guy.

 No way were you going to let him know that his stupid prank was working in any way, though. Keeping the little fact that you were falling for it to yourself was best. “It wasn't like that, Yn! Really.” He's half trying to explain himself to you and half focused on just what the hell you're doing with his clothes. Large hand covering his junk, no longer feeling confident in his nudity. 

 “Then what was it like, Jin?” You're turning, quick, not realizing that he had been standing right behind you. “Because from what I understand is that you and your friends thought it would be fun to put a price tag on my sex life and who knows how many other girls you're fucking with,” That, had been something that you forced yourself not to consider... but not the words were falling from your lips and realization was hitting.

 “It's just you! I mean... please, just hear me out. There aren't any other girls, and-,” You're cutting him off with a lift of his hand. Not really in the mood to be lied to. So ready to get him out of your face so you could be alone with all that you were feeling. “I don't want to hear it. I really don't. You're disgusting, Seokjin.” Your last words are delivered slowly and with your eyes staring into his. 

 “Yn-” He starts, but stops when he notices your backward steps toward your bedroom window. You push it open without any strain, lifting his clothes. “W-wait, what are you doing!?” He looks panicked as you toss his clothes out of the window, slamming it shut after you see them hit the ground.

 “Why would you go and do something like that!?” He's pissed, you can tell... but you don't care. You're done with him. Gave him the thirty seconds of distraught that he earned and now you were over it. For the most part. You'd work it out. It hadn't been that long since the two of you started hanging out. It wouldn't be that hard to get your shit together.

 “Hm, I wonder.” You mock with a roll of your eyes, you're passing him crossing your bedroom to reach your bathroom. “You can let yourself out,” There finality in your tone and you mean it, not bothered if you never saw him again after this.

 “You're not even going to let me explain?” He sure is talkative for a dude clutching his junk while his designer garments soaked in mud. “There's nothing to explain. Get out.” There's a droop in his shoulders following the sternness of your words. He's making his way toward your door with slow steps and you feel your heart crunch.

 Hated that it had to be like that, that he had to be like the rest of them. That you even bothered to give him a chance in the first place. It was so clear to you in the beginning, but you thought to give him the benefit of doubt, wanted him to be different... everyone was the same.

 “To think I was starting to change my opinion about you,” The words slip without your full intention. He's turning to look at you, but you're quick with the way you pull the bathroom door shut. Not having it in you to actually watch him walk out.

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog​​ @smoljams​​ @dee-ehn​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​ @lilacdreams-00​​ @sw33tnight​​ @bangtansonyeondayyyum​​ @okblve​​ @jinhitwhore​​ @tae165​​ @hellotherehoneybee​​ @bangtansbun​​ @betysotelo18​​ @cherriigguk​​ @koostime​​ @kooinluv​​ @butterflylion​​ @kookiesjoonies​​ @uxwi​​ @honeyoongles​​ @imajiningseokjin​​ @amoreguk​​ @beeeb05​​ @tommasauras​​ @bluefaeriefury​​ @butterflylion​​ @withlovestudyblr​​ @samros95​​​ @korkanswers​​ @houseofarmanto​​ @soulstaes​​ @thesunisup-theskyisblue​​​ @jinsearth​​​ @aizuwusho​​​ @moonb0yy​​​ @tan-dulset​​​ @8sjaf​​​ @mini-coop25​​​ @marifujioka​​​ @sunskook​​​ @elliemeetsevil​​​ @ratking101​​​ @leovaldezisfire​​​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

#sugar free sm au #jin smut #jin imagine #jin fluff #jin #jin angst #jin reaction #jin fic #jin sm au #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts #yoonmin #bts social media au #bts sm au #bts imagine

[jungshookz]

i just saw this on tiktok & idk if it’ll make sense when i explain it but,, imagine y/n finally gets the balls to confess to someone (i was thinking yoongi but anyone else would still be cool) & does it but he has his headphones in,, the thing is he actually isnt listening to anything but he pretends that he didn’t hear her (bc he’s vv silly) and she’s just like “nvm” and then without blinking he goes “oh... well i like u too btw” & then BOOM they get married

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; unsurprisingly this is a university!au, fluff!!!!!!, friends to lovers duH

➺ wordcount: 3.3k

➺ what to expect; “i like-you like you… romantic… style… you know?”

➺ note; for the first time ever i have nothing to say but happy reading!!!! y/n’s awkward and yoongi likes to bully her whaT’s new

(original gif source unknown :-( but i found it off here!!)

                          «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

okay

you know what

this is going to be great

this is going to go super well

you know why?

because you practiced this like, at least a hundred times over the past month!

you know what you’re talking about

you know exactly what to say and how to say it

(you might’ve written a script for yourself just to be safe)

((it’s scrunched up at the bottom of your bag))

“nothing to be nervous about…” you mumble to yourself as you fix your hair in the mirror

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before promptly untucking it

…and then tucking it again

maybe you should do hair tucked behind your right ear but untucked on the left ear

or does that look weird??

how about if you pull your hair up into a bun?

…

well now you just look like a freshly boiled egg, so that’s certainly not going to work.

“i’m not nervous. not at all.” you mutter, turning side to side to make sure that all angles of your face look somewhat decent

the other day yoongi pointed out some unblended concealer on your jaw so now you’ve been beating your face twice as hard every morning to make sure that everything is blended to perfection

speaking of yoongi

he’s actually the reason why you’re talking to yourself in the bathroom like a crazy person

…you like him.

well, you’re pretty sure you like him…

you pause for a split second before shaking your head

no, yeah.

you definitely like him.

the two of you have known each other for about a year now?

the story of how your friendship started isn’t all that exciting, now that you think about it

you were both in the same psychology class and he was late on the very first day and the only empty seat that was closest to the door was one that was next to you

you were hoping to make a new friend this semester but yoongi definitely wasn’t the kind of friend you had in mind

you were hoping for someone bright and chipper anD it wouldn’t hurt if they just so happened to be very intelligent and helpful when it came to coursework

“sorry.” the latecomer mumbles when his foot accidentally nudges against your backpack on the floor

“all good.” you smile politely and lean down to push it under your legs

you let out a breath before bringing your attention back to the prof

“-now, i know that not everyone likes doing this, but it is the first day of class, so how about some icebreakers?”

you resist the urge to let out a groan of protest upon the mention of icebreakers

gOD

seriously?!?!

icebreakers???

you guys have to do icebreakers??

how old do these professors think you are??

you hate icebreakers

they’re the absolute worst!

especially the ones where you have to tell people three things about yourself or three hobbies you have

because you can never come up with interesting factoids about yourself when you’re put on the spot like that

you remember last semester one of the icebreakers for your english class was two truths and a lie and to make matters worse it wasn’t like a ‘turn to the person sitting next to you’ exercise, it was a ‘everyone’s going to go around the room and share with the entire class’ exercise

and when it was your turn, the only thing you could come up with was: “i… am a human being. i… have teeth. and i… like… cilantro…?”

…

what the hell was that?

you clear your throat quietly when everyone looks at you like you’re insane

well, you technically followed the rules of the game

you aRE a human being

you DO indeed have chompers

and you hate cilantro!

but uh

out of all the things you could’ve said, those three were admittedly a little odd

“is the lie that you’re a human being? because you’re acting like an alien trying to fit in with us humans, my friend!” the girl sitting next to you (you later find out that her name is judy and you’d just like to say that you nevER liked her because she was one of those overly ‘i’m just happy to be here!!’ people that made you want to slam your face into a wall) nudges your side and you resist the urge to slap her hand away

the class immediately bursts into scattered laughter and you flash your prof a sheepish smile

so yeah

icebreakers have never been your forte and you don’t think they ever will be

“turn to the person next to you and… god, i don’t know…”

see??

even the prof seems reluctant to do this so wHY is he forcing everyone to do this????

“okay, how about this! tell them what you ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner yesterday. you can tell a lot about a person by what they eat in their every day lives. there we go.”

you press your lips together as you awkwardly manoeuvre yourself so that you’re facing the left

you force a smile onto your face when the stranger turns to face you as well

“do you wanna-”

“so like-”

the both of you speak at the same time and you immediately clamp up

well, this is just wonderful, isn’t it?

two seconds in and you already want to hurl yourself into the middle of a busy intersection

“oh, um, i’m y/n, by the way.” you lean in a little in case he can’t hear you

“cool, nice to meet you.” he nods as his fingers drum against his kneecap, “i’m yoongi.”

“oh, cool. yeah, nice to meet you too. yeah…”

“yeah…”

oh dear god

this entire interaction just makes you want to shrivel up and die

“so… should i go f-”

“look, we don’t have to do this, like… i personally hate icebreakers and i think i’ll survive without knowing what you ate yesterday. no offense.” yoongi chuckles before scratching the back of his neck, “we can just go back to doing our own thing until the professor calls time.” he shrugs before putting a single earbud in

you pause

oh!

okay

well

that worked out in your favour

“alright, no problem. i hate icebreakers too, so…” you turn back to look at your laptop

you stare at your empty google doc as your fingers drum aimlessly against the trackpad

you turn to take a look around

everyone else is just chatting their mouths off so you feel a little awkward sitting here doing nothing

…okay fiNE you’re just going to say something

“i mean, i guess it’s a good thing we’re not sharing anything with each other because i had, like, an embarrassing number of goldfish crackers for breakfast yesterday.”

yoongi nods before offering you a tightlipped smile

you press your lips together before slumping down in your seat a little

alllrighty

tough crowd this morning!

whEn is the professor going to call time??

at least you can use this time to think about where you’re going to sit next time

maybe you’ll sit in the front

smart people usually sit in the front, right???

you-

“what flavour?” you perk up when yoongi suddenly speaks up

he’s still scrolling through his phone and noT looking at you but you’ll take it

“the cinnamon graham cracker ones.”

he turns to raise a brow at you, “what? that’s not a flavour.”

“sure it is!” you scoff and open up your browser to search them up

“i only know about the cheddar ones. and cheddar is the superior flavour.”

you turn your laptop to show yoongi your screen, “see, check it out! there’s more than just cheddar.”

“oh. wow.”

and yeah

that’s how your guys’ first interaction went!

see?

nothing to rave about

it’s funny because you remember after hanging out with yoongi for the first time (the both of you had an hour and a half gap before your other classes) you told yourself that you weren’t allowed to like him

you have this tendency to immediately fall in love with someone just because they’re nice to you

like one time, this guy held the door open for you at the library and shot you a smile and a ‘no problem’ after you thanked him and you couldn’t stop thinking about him for literally two weeks straight

you’ve given him the affectionate title of library boy

you still think about him from time to time!

so you were pretty surprised to find that you weren’t slowly crushing on yoongi a month after meeting him

(you like to think it’s because sometimes he talks with his mouth full and that’s one of your turn offs)

this was a personal achievement for you!

not falling in love with someone after one day of getting to know them?

gold star for y/n!! :D

and you were pretty sure that this ‘friendship’ was just going to be one of those semester friendships

you know, the ones where you hang out a lot solely because you’re in the same class and it’s good + convenient to have a buddy in the same class

and after the semester ends you promise to meet up with them next semester and it never actually happens so it’s just an endless cycle of ‘hey, you free this week?’ and ‘i can’t this week, what about next week?’

and eventually you just stop talking to the other person because that’s just how it is

and when you see them in line for coffee at starbucks you’ll obviously say hi to them and the two of you will be like omg we have to hang out soon!!! but in your minds you’ll be thinking something like even if the world was ending we are not going to find time to hang out

you know, that kind of friendship!

not to mention, you don’t have a lot of boy-friends in the first place so you were positive that this was a business only friendship

so you were more than shocked to see the ‘i’m starving. let’s get pizza for lunch. where u at?’ text from yoongi at the beginning of the second semester

and now, here you are!

one year later and you’re still getting i’m starving. let’s get [insert food of choice here] for lunch. where u at? texts from yoongi

the only difference between now and then is the fact that you are completely and utterly whipped for yoongi

110% in love with that man

you don’t even know what changed!!!!

one day he was telling you a story with his mouth full as per usual and instead of finding it gross you actually thought it was cute how he seemed to resemble a chipmunk

and then you started to notice other things about him that you found cute

like the way his eyes light up whenever you bring him an iced coffee

or the way he throws his head back and places a hand on his chest when he’s laughing reaLLy hard over something you said

or how he leans back in his chair before sticking his foot up on the seat in front of him while chewing on the lid of his pen

and even your tradition of flipping each other off after you hop off the bus at your stop has your heart fluttering

you really can’t explain what happened

you kind of just woke up one morning and was like:

…do i like yoongi?

omg DO I??

this is… month five of your crush on him?

the only reason why you finally decided it was time to tell him about your feelings was because you spent the entire weekend reading friends to lovers fan fiction and now you’re all revved up and ready to rumBLE

if it can happen to a fictional character it could certainly happen to a very real human being like you

and even if he doesn’t like you back (womp womp) it’ll be fine

it won’t be the end of the world!

yoongi’s always been super chill so you’re pretty sure it’s not going to destroy the friendship

if anything he’ll just use it to tease you sometimes (“hey i’m thirsty do u maybe wanna buy a drink for me? …the love of your life?”) and you’re completely fine with that

sure, it’ll be a little embarrassing to have to sit through the ‘i just think you’re a really good friend’ conversation but you’ll get over it

“look who’s finally back.” yoongi glances up at you, “did you have a nice poop???” he says loudly and you can’t help but scowl when you get a couple glances your way

he giggles to himself before looking back down at his phone

“very mature, yoongi.” you snort as you take your seat, “you child.”

a beat of silence ticks by and you feel your leg started to bounce anxiously under the table

maybe this isn’t a good idea

…

NO

you’re not allowed to back out of this!

you literally spent so much time hyping yourself up in the bathroom

you’d have wasTed hours of rehearsing if you change your mind now

“okay, i’m just-” your voice wavers and you clear your throat quickly, “i’m just going to say something, and… and don’t interrupt me or anything until i’m done, because then you’ll ruin my train of thought.” you pause to let out a breath, “i like you, yoongi. and not, like, in general… i mean i do like you in general but i like-you like you… romantic… style… you know?”

okay

well

it seems that maybe you needed to practice what you were going to say one last time because ‘i like-you like you romantic style’ definitely wasn’t in the original script of this tragic screenplay

“to be honest, i’m really not sure what changed. i know that we’re pretty good friends and all but i just felt like i had to tell you about my feelings. you know, i… i really care about you and you’re one of the most important people in my life, if i’m being honest. you’ve always been there for me and, i don’t know… i’ve liked you for nearly five months, and the only reason why i didn’t wanna tell you was because i didn’t want to, like, potentially ruin our friendship? oh, and it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back, i just figured you should know! i mean, it’s literally fine if you don’t feel the same way, and you don’t have to give me the whole pity speech because i know from firsthand experience that you’re literally the worst at trying to make someone feel better so… yeah! i guess that’s all i had to tell you. i like you.”

you twiddle with a strand of your hair nervously as you conclude your little speech and wait for yoongi’s response

…

…

…

yoongi looks up at you before plucking an earbud out

“what?”

you immediately feel all the blood drain from your face

he… he didn’t even…. he didn’t hear a sINGLE thing of what you just…

you just poured your heart out to him and he was listening to music this entire time?!?!?!

if anything, this is a sign from god

this is god giving you a chance to rethink the whole confessing your undying love for yoongi thing

this is god telling you that you should thank Him and spend the rest of your life praising Him for saving you from a lifetime of embarrassment!

you swallow thickly before letting out a nervous chuckle, “wh- what?”

“did you say something?”

“me? i did, but it’s not important.” you wave it off before letting out a scoff, “it’s whatever. it’s… yeah, it’s fine. all good.”

“‘kay.” yoongi sighs as he plugs his earbud back in, “but for the record, i like you too.”

“yeah, well-” you look back up at yoongi quickly

what did he-

did he just-

are you hearing things??

“um-” you shake your head quickly before leaning in a little, “sorry, what?”

yoongi sets his phone down before reaching up to pluck out both his earbuds

“did i stutter?” he sniffles before folding his arms and putting them on the table

you blink

you can’t tell if he’s joking or not because of the complete lack of emotion in his face

like that one time you were really upset over completely bombing your midterm and yoongi looked at you with the pokeriest of poker faces and was like: “this one, single test doesn’t define your intelligence. you’re one of the hardest working people i know and you’re a very diligent student. i’ll help you study for your next midterm. i believe in you.” and you were just like ?????

so right now with yoongi telling you that he likes you back..,., you genuinely can’t tell if he’s teasing you or not

“i don’t… i don’t know what you’re saying…” you feel like your eyes are going to dry out from how wiDe they are

“i’m saying that if you asked me if i wanted to go and make out with you behind the bookshelves right now…” yoongi hums as he leans back against his chair, “i would say yes. i would even go as far as to say hell yes.”

??????

what is happening?????

are you having a fever dream???

is THIS what a stroke feels like???

“actually, i’m starving. let’s go get some food.” yoongi gets up from his seat before grabbing his backpack and flinging one strap over his shoulder

you feel like you’re on autopilot mode as you get up slowly from your seat

you’re just… trying to process… what the hell is going on…

okay

um

so he does like you back??

“hey-” you look over to see that yoongi’s already picked up your backpack for you and has his free hand sticking out, “are you going to hold my hand or not?”

see???

how are you supposed to interpret that???

you look down at his hand and blink at it cluelessly

so he wants you guys to hold hands??

“for god’s sake-” yoongi rolls his eyes before grabbing your hand and gently tugging you along, “i have to do everything for you-”

“oh, that is so not true!” you snap out of your trance to defend yourself, “i’m just thinking about- so you could hear me the entire time??”

your stomach does a flip when yoongi suddenly brings your hand up to his mouth before brushing a sweet little kiss along your knuckles

“i like-you like you romantic style, too.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

#requested drabbles #yoongi drabbles #min yoongi #yoongi fic recs #yoongi writing #yoongi fluff recs #yoongi fluff #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi smut recs #bts #bts fic recs #bts drabbles #bts fluff recs #bts fluff #bts smut #bts smut recs #bts yoongi #yoongi cute #yoongi au #yoongi university au #university au #au #bts au #bts university au #reader insert #yoongi x reader #bts writer recs #bts imagines #yoongi imagines

[4dtk]

stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway. 

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan. 

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed. 

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him. 

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?" 

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat. 

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look. 

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger. 

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his. 

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either." 

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!" 

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes. 

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down." 

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages. 

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing. 

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt. 

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed. 

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?" 

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made. 

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article. 

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host. 

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you. 

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves. 

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh." 

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's. 

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed. 

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31] 

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing. 

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?" 

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory. 

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?" 

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!" 

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door. 

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument. 

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33] 

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader. 

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview. 

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?' 

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking. 

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks." 

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room. 

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time. 

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile. 

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile. 

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder. 

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things." 

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred. 

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye. 

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time. 

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones. 

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment. 

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings." 

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together. 

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression. 

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable. 

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could. 

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation. 

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous." 

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?". 

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now—with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.

#nct #nct haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan fluff #haechan smut #haechan angst #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream smut #nct 127 #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #haechan fic #haechan drabbles

[dongiovannaswife]

Επανένωση | The Giovanna’s

Επανένωση. Noun; reunion: greek, “epanénosi.” 

Okay!! Family fic with a new member joining!! An old friend comes back too :D

CW: not really a cw but the gangster Haruno saved comes back and they talk about the past, talk about the stand virus and its pathophysiology (nothing explicit bc it’s just theories and stuff), anxiety, mafia dynamics (gun and death mention but nothing explicit, as I said, it’s just a couple of mentions) and kitten rescue at the end + fluffy stuff :D enjoyyy.  

Word count: 5K

Tagging: @shiningdoradiamond @nevershoutnani @softlimefluff (i know you didn’t ask but you and Han are mentioned here uwu) 

A small hand —warm, soft and familiar, — rests gently on his back as she tries to get closer, humming still in her sleep. Giorno’s eyelids flutter open, awakened with his sleeping wife's action. At first, he’s lost in the bedroom wall, relaxed as the warmth around him soothes his mind before he can start to think about the day ahead. 

Blinking a few times, he tries to fight off the will to go back to sleep, looking down at the woman in his arms. 

She’s clinging to him, no doubt about it; but he doesn’t mind as he takes into her features. Long and curly eyelashes barely touch her cheeks, where a few freckles rest and wink at him as he keeps looking down —rosy cheeks and pink lips in a soft line, tempting and adorable. Pale skin glowing in the soft light of the bedroom.

A sigh tears through her chest as she shifts, humming as she settles back. 

Giorno’s lips twist upwards, a soft smile that brings warmth through his body. Reaching a hand out, his fingers card through her hair as he leans in, kissing her forehead. Her response is only a hum —so he keeps on kissing her cheeks, right where her freckles rest; Helena hums and shifts and her hickory brown eyes finally look at him through her eyelashes.

“Good morning.” he whispers, smiling as he slips a few fingers to her jaw; delivering a peck to her lips and pulling back when she smiles against his lips. 

“Good morning,” she says back in a whisper, draping her arms around his shoulders. Her eyes leave his face for a moment as she turns to look at the baby monitor by the bedside —the twins are still asleep. Even then, Wire’s scent (lemon tea) can be perceived in the room as the stand leaves her user, floating in the boy’s bedroom direction. 

Giorno arches an eyebrow, looking back at his wife —silently questioning. 

“We still have some time before we have to wake them up, don’t we? Besides, isn’t this your last day off before you go back to work?” 

Giorno hums, but his question still remains. 

Helena grins, “I just want to spend some time with you, just us… Relaxing.” 

He hums, eyes scanning hers for a moment before he presses his lips together. He opens his mouth slowly, picking his words with ease. “You are worried about something, don’t you? Do you… Do you want to talk about it?” 

By the time he searches her eyes she’s already hiding on his neck, silent. 

Lena sighs, blinking back tears. “I… We both know we’re born stand users, right? And the whole stand user thing can be inherited. I’m worried about the boys and their stands: you know it’s possible they get a fever during the awakening process, right? And… They’re growing up too fast for a baby whose parents aren't stand users.” 

Giorno nods, sitting up and reaching a hand out until she straddles his lap. Like that, he only leans back against the headboard, resting his hands atop of the highwaisted shorts she’s wearing below his shirt. 

“Hey,” he whispers, twisting his head to kiss her cheek. “There’s a high change that will happen, yes, but that’s why we have Enzo with us. Did he say something about it during the last appointment?” 

She shakes her head, adding in a small, fragile voice. “He’s sure they can perceive stands: maybe not see them, but feel their presence. He said he will look it up with the Foundation, but I… I don’t want them to go through that, what if we can't stop it? We don’t even know how the virus works —the arrow is still an enigma. And I don’t want to—”

“Lena.” he interrupts gently, tightening his hold around her. “That won’t happen. Yes, the arrow is infected and that same virus is carried by us, but there’s a reason stand users exist; there are kids who have survived the fever. You did. And the boys will do it, too. It’s okay to be worried, but don’t suffer for things that haven't happened or that might never happen.” 

There’s a moment of silence, one that both share. 

“You’re always right.” she mutters out of nowhere, tone calmer. There’s even a hint of humor on it. 

And Giorno only smirks, “Let’s pretend that’s true,” then, as fast as the smirk took over, he presses his lips in a tight line, adding. “All the things I said don’t mean I’m not worried about them: I’m as worried as you are, but I can’t let it consume me.” 

She hums, rubbing circles on his back, “Yeah, I know —I’m sorry. I know this is about our family.” 

“It’s okay. I know it wasn’t your intention. Besides, I’m glad you said it.” 

She hums once more, settling down. 

“... Gio?” 

“Hm?” 

“Kissy?” 

Giorno chuckles, waiting until she pulls back to slip a few fingers to her jaw, bringing her face closer —watching as she closes her eyes and following the trail of tears that streamed down her face seconds ago; he kisses her cheeks then, aiming at her tears so the trail’s cut off. Then, he hums as he presses another couple of kisses to her eyelids; one to her forehead and finally, when she’s smiling and sighing dreamily, his lips find hers in a short, sweet kiss. 

He pulls away capturing her upper lip between his teeth, a soft bite that has her chuckling as he leans back —his little smirk makes her blush and wink playfully. 

Giorno’s phone buzzes as the screen lights up, showing Westwood’s contact. Reaching out, Lena passes the phone to Giorno, who mutters a little thank you before he picks up. 

“Pronto.”

“...” Giorno frowns with Westwood’s answer, but waits until he’s done talking. 

“What did he say? You know we won’t be back at the office until tomorrow.” 

“...” He leans back, closing his eyes when the headboard comes in contact with his head, mouthing something under his breath —almost like he’s trying to remember something.

“Is he still there?”

“...” 

Giorno nods, shooting a quick glance to his wife as she nods and stands from the bed, walking up to the bathroom to take a shower.

There’s ruffling on the other side and, after a few moments, Westwood speaks.

Watching her disappear into the bathroom, Giorno hums once Westwood goes silent.

“Ask him this; what was the house special?” 

“One extra gelato ball, chocolate flavored.” 

Giorno’s throat closes for a moment, but he toughs it out. “I’ll be there in forty.” 

The call ends and he looks up just in time to see the door open —his wife walks out in only his shirt, walking next into the closet, unaware of his stare. 

Standing from the bed and making his way to the bathroom to take his shower next, Giorno’s mind races with thoughts as he strips and gets under the shower. It had been years since the last time he saw him.

It was clear that he had left that life behind, running away from whatever gang he was working with or, perhaps, getting injured. His reasons weren’t clear, as he was only nine when the man disappeared, but his protection remained intact through the years. Even to that moment, the old man from the gelato store still recognized him, and even if the gelato store had closed a long time ago, he would stop by to greet him.

There was no doubt that Matteo Della Morte was, and continued to be, an influence to Naples’ streets.

Reuniting with him after so many years and changes was going to be a hard step. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, he keeps his towel around his waist as he steps into the closet, distracted for a moment with the picture of his wife wearing an off shoulder pink dress that clings to her frame in the right spots: it takes him a moment to look away and reach for his boxers into the drawers. 

“Did something happen, Giogio?” 

“... He contacted Westwood.” 

Lena frowns as she’s done with her makeup, turning. “Who?” 

Giorno gulps down, picking a black suit accentuated with crimson details. “Do you remember Matteo?” 

“The gangster who protected you? Yeah, did he call?” 

Giorno nods, looking up at his wife. “He wants to meet with me. It seems like he just came back.”

Lena nods, humming under her breath. Turning to the mirror to fix a strand of hair behind her ear, she turns in time to see her husband almost dressed if it wasn't for the open buttons of his shirt as he looks around for a matching tie. “You haven’t seen him in years, right? And he met you when you were… In a tough situation.”

“I’m not ashamed of my past. The thing is,” he drops his hand to his side as Lena steps in, buttoning his shirt. “All his actions —every interaction was from afar. The last thing he wanted was for me to follow his steps.” 

“He might have wanted that, but unless you want to leave all this for real, then there’s no reason for you to feel bad about it; besides, you’re not a mob boss only. You did pursue a career.” 

 “... You’re always right.” 

Lena chuckles, shaking her head. “Let’s pretend that’s true. Do you want me to go with you?” 

He seems to think about it for a moment. “Even if I would want you to meet him, I still need to make sure it’s not an ambush.”

She nods, stepping aside to pick the suit jacket as he makes a windsor knot. Smothering the fabric of the black shirt, Giorno takes the suit jacket from her, leaning down to wrap an arm around her waist, “By the way, something tells me you choose this dress just for the fun of being a tease.” 

Lena chuckles, nodding shamelessly as a perfectly manicured nail traces over the arm wrapped around her waist, “Should I apologize for being this cute, Giogio?”

The small fraction of yellow in his green eyes seems to stand out as he smirks, chuckling lowly as he leans down to steal a short kiss. “You have no excuse for being this beautiful, though.” 

Lena chuckles, wiping her lipstick off his lips; as she makes sure there’s no trace of red left, the light in her eyes goes dim, “Gio, call me if something happens, okay? You don’t have to go through this reunion alone.” 

Giorno’s lips are pursed in a line by the time she pulls her hand back, “I will.” he then leans down to cling to her for a moment before he's pulling back. 

Taking her hand, he leads her out of their bedroom, walking up to the boys’ room.

 “It’s still early to wake them up, babe.” she mutters as Giorno holds the door open for her. 

“Yeah, I know.” he mutters back, closing the door behind his back and joining her side. Looking down, Giorno’s heart swells as he takes the boys’ in: from the moment they were born, it was hard to separate them, even if both had their own cribs, the boys seemed to insist on sleeping together. 

Hence, the scene before him: The Giovanna twins embracing each other, still deep asleep and comforted by each other’s presence.

“I want a pic to show Ari,” Lena mutters, grinning. Giorno’s smile grows as he turns on the baby nursery lamp before the crib. The light’s not strong enough to wake them up, but on point for the pic to be taken and texted to the other couple. Putting her device aside, Lena reaches out to turn off the lights. “I’ll wake them up later, let’s get breakfast, yes?” 

Giorno hums, tracing the twins’ hands with his finger as his wife disappears into the corridor —shortly after he follows her. 

 Coming into the kitchen, the Don’s looks down at his hand as he puts on his wedding ring and straightens Passione’s signet ring when the tea pot comes to life as Lena gets closer to it. 

“Gio,” she calls sweetly, “Will you have breakfast here or…?” 

Giorno nods, “I’m reuniting with him at Libeccio. Don’t worry, I’ll get something there.” 

“Okay,” she answers, turning to him in a swift motion. “I’ll wait for you.”  

The Don’s eyes soften as he hums, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll come home soon. Call me if you need me.” 

“I will. And Gio?”

“Hm?” 

“I love you, stay safe.”

The black Ford explorer leaves the mansion behind in a swift fast motion —in the wheel, Giorno’s gaze flicks to the back for a moment, making sure the automatized doors close behind the vehicle, securing his family there as the two guards go back to their positions under Fugo’s watch.

The drive to the restaurant was short, around twenty minutes as he exited the secured prestigious area and got into Naples’ touristic center, where Libeccio was.

Arriving there, Giorno soon can see Westwood standing outside the restaurant, already waiting for him. Pulling up before him, the Don climbs off with the engine still on, letting West hop in so he could drive later. 

“He’s in the private area, one person is with him; a man, around thirty-eight, not so tall —he’s wearing black pants and a grey turtleneck sweater. I’m sure he knows about the business.” Westwood mutters the info as Giorno leans into the closed door, glancing into the place. 

“Anything else?” 

Nodding his head, Westwood adds. “He’s looking at you; at the door… Good luck.” 

Giorno hums in response, straightening his position and walking up to the man Westwood had described. The man’s eyes hold a glint of recognition, and Giorno could tell he had seen him before, but the pieces to the puzzle hadn’t fit yet, too preoccupied with Matteo’s arrival.

“Don Giovanna.” the man greets him first, bowing and extending a hand out. “He’s waiting inside; I will lead you to him.” 

“Thank you.” 

The man stares for a moment before turning around, walking straight into the private area to the restaurant. 

“Morte, he’s here.” announces the man as they get into the room, stepping aside the table at a comfortable distance: not enough to hear the conversation in its entirety, but to watch over the older man. 

Matteo Della Morte had been a victim to the pass of time: the brown waves of hair were now a dark shade of gray cascading down his shoulders and although his face showed the signs of an old man, his eyes still carried the mysticism from years ago; a gentle glint shining through, too. Hidden but noticeable for Giorno.

Standing from his chair, Matteo met Giorno halfway with a firm handshake. 

“Don Giovanna, thank you for coming.” the man smiles and Giorno can see a fraction of pride through the gesture, “I see you’ve achieved just what I saw.” 

Giorno frowns, “Excuse me?” 

Matteo shakes his head, chuckling under his breath, “I’ll explain —let’s sit down and have something first, shall we?” 

With a wary look, Giorno takes a seat before the man, who gestures at the man accompanying him to call the waitress. 

As the waitress arrives, Mista does too, muttering an apology and sitting before Matteo’s guard.

“I’ll get a cornetto and an espresso.” Mateo nods in Giorno’s direction and he, in a relaxed expression replies, “I’ll have the same, please.” 

By the time the waitress leaves, the tension has grown again. 

“I’m sure you have heard rumors, or might have one of them, too.” Starts the old man, supporting his elbows in the table and crossing his hands one over the other. “I am in possession of quite a supernatural power. It allows me to see images of someone’s future, usually it happens when that person has a strong effect upon me.” 

Giorno’s expression is still serious when he replies, “You mean a stand?” 

Mateo tilts his head to the side, “Is it called that? Are we on the same page?” 

“We might be,” Giorno nods, letting Gold Experience Requiem cast its aura over him —allowing the shape of the stand to manifest and cast a golden aura upon him.

“Oh.” eyes were the size of dinner plates, Mateo stares as he comes to a realization. “Then that’s it.” 

Gold Experience Requiem disappears with no trace as Mateo keeps talking. “Alright, now that we know that: when you saved me back then and I started to investigate so I could figure out a way to pay for your actions, I had one of those episodes: I saw an older version of you; exactly this one, and I knew you would be someone important.” the man then smiles sadly, “But I had been on the business all my life and I knew the horrors of it. Stupid of me, but I tried to change the future. As you can see,” he gestures at Passione’s signet ring in Giorno’s finger, “It didn’t work.” 

Giorno nods, thoughtful. “Did you see something else?” 

Mateo shakes his head, “I did not. I can only see one image per person. I’ve heard rumors, though: one of them being your actions against Alessandro for the sake of a kid. Others say you’ve got a family now. I’ve heard about the Donna. But I’m not a celebrity gossip show: I rather hear about it from you, if you feel like talking about it.” 

There’s a moment of silence as Giorno makes his mind. Shoulders tense and jaw tightly pressed, his eyes scan over Mateo’s face with calculated and cold movements. 

The waitress’ arrival seems to dissipate the atmosphere for a moment. As they set the plates before the men, Mista throws a glance at Giorno: the gunslinger knows him well, and even then, he is not sure of the Don’s next move. 

As the waitress leaves and Mateo’s guard shifts on his chair, Giorno finally speaks up. 

“How can I know this is not some kind of manipulation, ambush or strategy to bring me down? Just like you must know, I have enemies and they don’t want to drink coffee with me. If your intentions are not these, then you’re still on time to say so. I’ve got things to do.” 

Matteo’s bodyguard pushes his chair on the floor violently as he stands, hitting the table with enough strength to bring it down —a red haze surrounds his fits as he does: a stand. “How dare you! He sa—”

Matteo raises a hand in a gesture for him to stop, the wrinkles in his eyes seem to stand out when he frowns. “Angelo, stop it.” 

Angelo’s frown does not go unnoticed, in fact, nothing in his posture changes as he stays in place, fists tightly pressed —Mista’s hand rests on his gun as his eyes never leave Angelo, ready to act if needed. 

“I get your worry,” Matteo looks back at Giorno as he starts talking; his voice too calm for the situation. “Why would you ask about the house special, confirming my identity in the process? Now, tell me, why would I ask you to come over and don’t set any rules? While public attacks are common, it is highly possible I wouldn’t step out unharmed or even alive. So no, my intentions are not to hurt you for two reasons: first,” he raises a finger to point it out. “I’ve left that life behind: I saw my own end, and preferred to keep on living.” he raises another finger, “Two; honor. I’m positive you know and hold a highly moral code, and honor is the first value we consider. At least we did in the old school: I owe you one, and probably always will. You might think I don't and refuse anything else I do, but I will keep on doing it. Now, do you really think I would harm you after protecting you?” 

Giorno’s expression is blank as he listens, mouth in a tight line as he locks eyes with Matteo for a few seconds.

“Sorry,” he starts, and his voice shows he means it. “I’ve got to make sure I’m not in danger. And even if I walk out safe, as you already heard, I got a family to protect.” 

Matteo nods, accepting his apology. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lip, “Just how old are you?” 

“Twenty-seven.” 

“Oh.” Matteo smiles wide, taking a bite of his cornetto like nothing happened. “So,” he covers his mouth with the back of his left hand and points at the wedding ring —that covers a fraction of the sunflower tattoo, too— with the index of his free hand. “Are you married?” 

“I am,” Giorno nods, letting a sigh out. Relieved, he seems to settle down in calm. Taking a sip from his coffee, he collects his thoughts before speaking, trying to measure everything that just happened. “I met her thanks to Mista,” he looks over at Mista, who nods back. “He took me to a forceful week of vacation in Mexico. They had been friends for a while —after getting to know her I just couldn’t hide it.” 

Matteo hums, setting his cup down. “Was it hard to accept it?” 

“What?” Giorno asks, and a smirk crosses his face, almost like he’s reading Matteo’s mind. “My feelings? Sure thing. In the end I did and now we’ve been together for eight years. I guess we’ve made it work.” 

Matteo nods, smiling behind his cup. “You have, and you will have to keep on doing so.” 

For a moment, the rest is silence.

“I don’t know if you are aware of it,” Giorno suddenly speaks after taking a first bite to his cornetto and gulping it down; as he does, he sets down his napkin. “But you taught me something I rely on to this day —trust. And that, I believe, is something I will always owe you for.” 

Matteo chuckles, “I can assure you, that debt was solved when you made the grass grow.” 

Giorno nods, thoughtful as he takes another sip. 

“Don Giovanna?” Matteo calls, finishing his cornetto. 

“You don’t have to call me that, Giorno is okay.” 

“Giorno. Alright. Will I meet her anytime soon? Your wife, I mean.”

Giorno nods; a small smile brightens his face as he does. “Yes, and our sons too.”

Matteo laughs, throwing his head back, “You keep surprising me, ragazzo! You’re a father too!”

Giorno raises a finger, smiling wider. “To twins.” 

Matteo’s mouth hangs open for a second —and Giorno chuckles, finishing his cornetto too. 

Seeing Matteo still at loss of words, Giorno lifts his chin in Mista’s direction so he can get the waitress, “I’m positive my wife wants to meet you too, but I still have to talk it out with her —would you mind if I call you later?” 

Blinking a few times, Matteo nods, taking a pen and a small notebook from his pocket: he sets it down so he can write his number down. While he does, the waitress arrives and Giorno asks for the bill. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it, Giovanna.” Angelo steps in. “We already took care of it.” 

Giorno nods, and a flash of recognition makes his eyes widen for a second. “Thank you —Do you happen to be Matteo’s partner during those days?”

Angelo hums and Matteo gives Giorno the fraction of paper where he wrote his number down. 

“Angelo is my nephew, Giorno. His father, my brother, met a tragic end. I’ve been taking care of him from then on.” 

The Don nods, glancing at Angelo with a curt nod and then folding the piece of paper and saving it into his pocket. As he stands, he extends a hand out. “I’m glad I could see you again, Matteo. I’ll call you this evening so we can talk about it.” 

Accepting the handshake, Matteo smiles warmly. Like a father. “Of course, Giorno: I’m glad you turned into a gentleman. I’ll be waiting for your call.” 

 Stepping out of the restaurant with Mista following him, Giorno stops on his tracks as soon as the cry of a kitten reaches him. 

“Giogio?” Mista asks, hand back on his gun and eyes already looking around.

“It’s nothing, Mista. Did you hear it, the kitten?” 

Mista frowns, nodding. “Yes,” he then grins as realization hits him. “Will you take it home?” 

Giorno hums as he makes his way into the alley. The sun doesn't reach there, hence the alternaria growing in the walls and crawling all around. A few trash cans lay on the floor, knocked by some stray dog —and in the middle of all the trash, a small paperboard box. 

The kitten cries again, and Giorno quickly finds the cardboard box to be the source of its sound. Walking up to it, he makes sure his presence is known by purposefully making a small sound with his shoe, enough to let it know he’s there, but not to make it run away. 

Reaching the box, he opens it to reveal a kitten he recognizes as a maine coon, too small to feed themselves: he’s not sure if it’s naturally grey or it’s just dirt, but he doesn’t think much of it. 

“Hey, buddy.” he mutters, kneeling slowly and letting the little one sniff his hand. “Someone left you here, didn’t they? I know of someone who will love you.” he takes off his suit jacket, completely ignoring the fact that it will probably be ruined —picking the kitten up with a single hand, he wraps the suit jacket around the kitten, and finally, with the kitten wrapped in a comfortable burrito, he cradles it like it’s nothing, stepping out of the alley and walking back to the truck. 

Mista holds open the door as he hops in, climbing after him. 

“West, drive us to the nearest vet.” 

Westwood grins, making eye contact through the mirror as the engine comes to life. “Would you mind if I play some music, boss?” 

Giorno shrugs, looking down at the kitten as it stares up at him with big, scared eyes. He then looks back at Westwood. “It’s okay as long as you keep it at a comfortable volume.” 

Westwood nods and the speakers come to life as the Kean Dysso remix for Plain Jane starts playing; Mista whistles, grinning as the streets of Naples pass by. 

Retrieving his phone from his pocket, Giorno has to maneuver a bit while holding the kitten and crunching down so his head doesn’t hit the ceiling of the vehicle —finally getting a hold of his phone and going back to his position, he swipes up the lockscreen (a picture of his wife smiling for the camera while holding both twins) the main menu pops in and he chooses the messaging app. As soon as the contacts are displayed he taps on his wife’s one, typing slowly, as he’s still holding the now sleeping kitten.

 **Hey, angel. Everything is okay. I have a surprise for you.

 The message sent notification pops in and Giorno looks through the window as he waits for the reply, looking back as soon as he sees the read notification and smiling once the typing sign shows up below her contact. 

Soon, the reply pops in and he reads over it with quick eyes.

 i’m glad! we’ll be waiting for you ♥♥♥ 

 He sends a few emojis after that, smirking out of mischief as the vehicle stops before the vet clinic and Mista climbs off so he can hold the door for him. 

It’s around two in the evening when the Ford explorer gets into the mansion’s front door and slowly stops before the main door, where Vittorio awaits already. 

“Welcome back, Giogio. Lena’s worried, I hope you have a good excuse.”

Taking the cat kennel from the seat and seizing it while taking a bag out, Giorno shoots a smirk at Vittorio as the leader of La Squadra sees the reason for his late arrival. 

“Where is she?” he asks then, walking up the stairs to the front door. 

“In the lobby,” Vittorio says, “She’s playing with Jovi and Dante just fell asleep.” 

“Good,” he says, walking past Vittorio and straight into the lobby.

 As soon as Lena recognizes his steps, she and the little boy in her arms turn to him with big, bright gins.

“Baby, you’re here!” she opens her mouth to ask something, but the kitten’s sudden meow brings both Lena’s and Jovi’s attention. 

“Love?” she asks, eyeing the kennel with illusion. “Is that…?”

“Why don’t you find out?” he replies, setting down the kennel and walking up to the coffee table where he sets the bag down. Then, he walks up to her, taking Jovi. 

Lena nods, giving Giorno an excited smile. 

Kneeling before the kennel, she opens it slowly, letting the kitten walk out warily as it sniffs at the house. 

As soon as she could take a look at it, she gasps, grinning and melting in an instant. “Did you find it?” 

Giorno nods, sitting by her side with Jovi on his thigh, “In an alley. The vet says he’s healthy, just needs a family and care. He’s around two months old.” 

Lena grins wider, looking back to the kitten and snapping back to Giorno. “Is it a boy?”

Giorno laughs, preventing Jovi from touching it yet, “Yeah. The real question is —” he locks eyes with his wife, “Do you want to keep him? I brought him home because I know you love cats.”

Lena smiles, nodding excitedly. “Yeah! Let’s keep him! —Jovi, baby look! He’s your new friend.” she leans closer to Jovi’s eyesight, pointing at the kitten as the baby looks at the kitten, babbling with curious hands.

“Now,” Giorno kisses Jovi’s head. “How should we call him?” 

Lena looks off in the distance, grinning when an idea pops in her mind. “Ares?” 

Giorno smirks, nodding. “Why not.”

Taking Jovi from him, Lena sets the boy in her lap as she takes his little hand, guiding it to the small kitten, and letting him feel his fluffy fur —Jovi’s eyes shine brighter as he squeaks in happiness, babbling and trying to touch more. 

Giorno stands from the floor, going to get Dante from his playpen and sitting back before the curious kitten, he takes Dante's hand and lets him feel the kitten too: his reaction is the same as Jovi’s. 

With both twins staring intently at the kitten as he roams around, Giorno looks over at his wife, smiling when she looks back. 

Lena leans in, stealing a kiss and mumbling into his lips. “Thank you, babe.”

Giorno hums, stealing one more kiss. 

With the twins asleep and the couple sitting now at the couch, silence settles in as they watch Ares eat. There’s the sound of birds chirping outside and Pietro’s voice in the distance as he and Vivienne play poker.

“Lena.” Giorno mutters, twisting his head to look at her, “About Matteo. He seemed genuine with his intentions. He wants to meet you and the boys.”

The Donna hums, leaning her head on his chest as Ares looks around before he starts licking his paw in a signal that he’s well-fed. “If you think it’s safe for the boys, then it’s okay. I’ve wanted to meet him for a while now, but we gotta make sure he’s not trying to betray you in any way.”

“Then, if you agree, why don’t we go and have dinner with him so you can make your mind? Once you’re sure he’s of trust, we can let him meet the twins.”

Lena hums, shifting to face him. “Okay. Sorry if I can’t trust him yet.”

Shaking his head, Giorno’s smile is sincere like his words. “It’s okay, I understand. It’s about our family, of course we should be careful.”

She leans in, stealing a kiss and leaning on his broad chest to look back at the kitten, who has fallen asleep on his bed.

“Do you realize we have one more son? A fur son, in fact.”

Giorno chuckles.

part 2. 

#GioLena #The Giovanna twins #i'm super proud of this fic please don't let it sink into The Void ;w;

[yuthoe]

Day 30: Partners (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

this is horrible HAHAHAHA it's the second-to-the-last day of MTM and today's prompt is:

Day 30: Sports Setting

and i was going to make like an "i can do anything better than you" plot, but this is the most i can do with the time i had today. was super busy and this deformed baby is what was born. hayyyy idk, i was really looking forward to this prompt bc (1) the premise i made was really fun and (2) it's hyungwon HAHA but apparently my brain juices have run out

ALSO IF Y'ALL ARE WONDERING, the sport they're doing is dancesport aka competitive ballroom, which i also practice hihi i'm so predictable, trying to insert dancesport into every sports related thing lmao. it is 100% a sport and south korea is also a member of the world dancesport federation. it was so hard trying to describe the steps without being overly technical and using the actual names man, brain hurty

PAIRING: Chae Hyungwon x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff. WARNINGS: swearing. WORD COUNT: 1,470.

---

“Two—three—cha-cha-cha! Two—three—cha-cha-cha! One more—cha-cha-cha!” your coach chants, clapping in time to the beat as you and Hyungwon spin around the dance floor. You end with your right feet forward and in an open hold, your hands held lightly in his. The music stops and all that’s audible is your labored breathing.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Hyungwon says, letting go of your hands and doubling over to take in deep breaths. You drop your hands to your hips and walk around, trying to slow your heart rate before sitting down to grab water. “How long until the end of the combo?”

Your coach leans on the wall next to the sound system, leisurely scrolling through his phone. “Not long, just a few more steps,” he says. “Ten minute break and we’ll try the rumba. And let’s try to finish it today, shall we? So we can work on your jive on Wednesday.”

You waddle over to your bags and crouch down to grab your water bottle and squirt some much needed liquid in your mouth. You let out a satisfied sigh after swallowing, breathing out slow before standing back up and wiping your sweat with a towel.

Hyungwon does the same, leaning one hand on the mirrored wall as gulps down water. He rests one foot on its heel and turns it this way and that, flexing and pointing his toes to stretch the muscles; the other foot gets the same treatment.

You go up to the mirror, a little ways away from your partner, and lean your weight on both hands to practice your swivels. Left foot steps to the right and as you change weight, bring the right foot in and face to the left side; repeat starting from the right foot; repeat starting from the left foot.

It’s quiet in the studio as you mind you continue your swivels and Hyungwon reviews the choreography on the floor. For the nth time these past two weeks you wonder how you ended up with him as a partner. You still somehow can’t believe that there isn’t another guy available in the club to compete with you for the Lilian’s Cup this season—and you still somehow can’t believe that Hyungwon of all people offered to partner with you.

It’s not like he’s a bad club member—far from it, actually. He shows up for every club meeting, sure sometimes he’s late but he participates the whole time and even asks to stay behind to work on the choreography sometimes when it’s a particularly tricky variation. You just. Never really talk. He hangs out with the couple of friends he has in the club, and you stick to the club officers who you know from some of your classes.

There’s this tiny voice in the back of your head that’s nagging at you to just talk to him. Because in the five training sessions you’ve had this month, not once have you spoken to each other save for the cursory greetings before and after practice. It’s mostly you both talking to your coach and not acknowledging each other.

Which is really bad, given that you’re supposed to be partners and have chemistry, especially for a dance like the fucking rumba.

You sigh, closing out the couple of cucarachas you did to stretch out your hips and slide over to watch Hyungwon.

He’s just starting the second combo you’ve learned for the routine, the natural top. So you slide into the ballroom hold and do three sets of rumba walks forward in time, looking at anything but him, though you can imagine the surprised look on his face.

After the natural top, you slide into an opening out and prepare for the sliding doors step, when you see Hyungwon stop from the corner of your eye.

His arms are outstretched in the proper positions, his left hand still holding your right, but the rest of his body is stuck in an unflattering stance, eyes flitting about and brows furrowing in frustration. “What’s the next step again?”

“Sliding doors,” you say, and step forward. He steps back as you lean your weight on your forward foot and lift your connected hands up and over your head. You step slowly, allowing him to find his footing in the step, and after a moment of fumbling, you watch both of you in the mirror, properly meeting in the middle and splitting with every side step. After the second sliding doors step, you halt, coming to the end of the choreography so far. There’s still a ways to go, seeing as you’ve only been taught around sixteen bars.

Despite the rumba being a slow dance, you’re still somehow breathing heavily. You lament sometimes that the rumba is your favorite dance because the muscle control it requires is insane. The push and pull between slow and sharp movements gets you off kilter at some points, especially if those difficult turns have to be done without support from a partner. Therefore, communication is necessary to build a solid foundation of give-and-take.

Which means you really have to open your mouth and talk to Hyungwon sometime soon if you want to do well for the Lilian’s Cup.

You pivot to face him, the canvas soles of your heels helping your sharp turn. “Do you need help with the choreo?”

Hyungwon had been staring at the ceiling, no doubt running through the routine in his head once again, but looked down at you when you spoke. He shrugs, bites his lips and says, “Yeah.” He sighs, resting his hands lightly on his hips as he leans on one foot, the other tapping the floor in agitation. “I have a tough time memorizing choreo unless I make it, so…”

You blink. “You make routines?”

Another shrug, and he holds up a hand with the palm down and tilts it from side to side. “Eeehh, sometimes. I’m still learning, and it’s full of basic steps. Definitely not competition caliber yet, not even bronze.”

You purse your lips, nodding. “Still, though, that’s pretty impressive. I’ve been dancing for a while and I can’t create choreo yet.”

“Well,” Hyungwon says, bending his lanky body backwards to open up his chest. “The first step is always the most challenging, I’d say. Once you actually try, it’s easier to take the next steps.” He intertwines his fingers and raises them above his head, groaning from the strain.

You smile at that, and decide that maybe Hyungwon is a better conversation partner than you initially thought. “How about we set like, a day in the week to practice. Just us, you know. I can help you memorize the routines for Lilian’s and you can teach me the stuff you make.” You clear your throat, gaze stuck on your feet, pointing and flexing and looking for something to do. “You know. If you’re cool with it.”

Hyungwon hums. “Yeah, sure.” You look up to see him looking into space, finger tapping on his chin as he thinks. “Can we meet up in the afternoon, though? ‘M not much of an early riser.”

You chuckle. “‘Course. I hate mornings, too.” You wipe your sweaty forehead with your towel and let it hang over your head like a veil as you jog to your bag. You come back to Hyungwon’s side a moment later, holding your phone out. “I also just realized that I don’t have your number yet. It’ll make setting up a date way easier.”

“Mm, you’re right about that,” he says, slender fingers taking your phone and tapping on the screen before handing it back to you. His contact is saved as Dance Partner Hyungwon. “Just a warning tho, I might not reply sometimes because I forget to.”

You tap your phone against your palm and shrug. “S’all right. I’ll just ask one of your friends to pester you then, like Minhyuk. I know he’s pretty… persistent.”

Hyungwon scoffs, but he has a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, that’d do the trick. I’ve known him for years, he won’t shut up unless I humor him.”

You’re about to reply when two loud claps echo through the room. “Okay, you two, break’s over,” your coach calls. “Starting positions please, and let’s finish up this routine today so we can just keep polishing.”

After dumping your towel and phone on your bag and sliding your hand into Hyungwon’s as you get into position, you whisper to him. “I’ll text you later about that after-practice practice.” As the sultry music starts, you have a thought. “And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know me when I finally message you, Chae Hyungwon.”

He bites his lips and looks over your shoulder, fighting a laugh. “Fine, fine,” he says, and composes himself, just in time for your cue to take the first step.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon scenario #monsta x hyungwon imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #hyungwon scenario #hyungwon imagine #fic: mine #fic: hyungwon #fic: not spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

[honeypirate]

I found you again

Daichi x y/n post time skip.

This is really long bc I didn’t want to do a second part. I could have split it up but that takes so long.

You were jogging in place, waiting for the crosswalk to tell you it was time.

It was early in the morning, your first day back in your hometown after college. You were on a run, re-familiarizing yourself with your old town before you were going to see if you could join the womens volleyball club in the community.

The light turned with the familiar beep you heard every morning walking to high school and you started to jog again, being back in town brought up many memories about volleyball and a certain boy you used to in love with.

After the last few years you wondered what happened to him. Back then you were too scared to confess your feelings so you didnt and you remained just close friends with him, after graduation you didn’t keep in contact, you went abroad to try and rid yourself of your feelings and, as much as you know, it worked.

You round a corner and smack face first into the back of a big man, and has you grunt and hit the ground on your butt you only realize that it’s a police officer “Sorry sir, I didn’t see you there” he turns around all concerned and you cock your head is it really him? It’s like your thoughts had summoned him.

“Sawamura?” His concern and confusion turns into a look of recognition “Y/n?!” He helps you to your feet “you’re back in town! are you okay?” You smile “yeah I’m fine! I’m sorry again for running into you. I was a little distracted.” You still were hella distracted seeing him now, all grown up and a police officer! you almost couldn’t believe your eyes. He was still as handsome as ever but you did prefer to see him in volleyball shorts, he had meaty thighs that you checked out many times in school.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kind of glad you did, it’s really nice to see you.” And then he said the words you hoped he would “Hey do you wanna get together tonight for dinner and catch up?” (I guess I didn’t get over shit) you think to yourself as you smile and nod “I would love to.” You pull out your phone “what’s your number? I’ll send you a text so you have mine and you can call me later” he tells you his number and you send him your contact “I should get going soon, I’m meeting with the community women’s volleyball club to see if I can join.” He beams at you “I play with the men’s team sometimes when I’m not working” you laugh “that makes me so glad. I loved watching you play in high school. It was mesmerizing. I played on the women’s team in college so, I could probably beat you now” you wink and he laughs making you remember how much you love that sound “well we should see about that sometime” his partner gets his attention from the parked car on the street and he nods at him “I’ll call you when I get off okay?” You nod and he gets in his car with a wave. After all this time he still adores you. After all this time you still love his meaty thighs. You continue your run and mentally put together the outfit you’ll wear tonight.

Daichi gets off work and drives home, he takes off his belt and uniform, setting his stuff on his dresser. He’s nervous to make a phone call, nervous to see the girl he used to love because she’s an adult now and even more beautiful than he remembers. He’s nervous because he can feel his love for her coming back. He takes a deep breath and presses call before he chickens out.

You’re dancing to Girl on Fire in your bathroom, doing your makeup in your cutest pair of black matching lingerie. You didn’t intend to sleep with him, you knew he was a gentleman. You wore this for you, so you felt more confident.

As you belt out the chorus your phone cuts out the song to vibrate signaling a call and you start to laugh at your crappy singing voice as you pick up your phone. Your palms immediately start to sweat when you read his name on the screen. “Finally” you say and press the green button “Sawamura!” Your voice is excited and he laughs softly “Y/n. How are you?” He didn’t know why he was nervous to begin with, hearing you say his name washed away all of his nerves. “I’m good. Better now actually. How are you?” You’re smiling looking at yourself in the mirror “I’m better too. I was thinking we could get some dinner and I could meet at your place and we could walk together?” You hold in a laugh of glee “that sounds perfect. I’ll text you my address. When will you be here?” You’re swaying side to side in excitement “in an hour? If that works for you” you can hear the smile in his voice “yea that’s perfect. I can’t wait to see you again” you laugh shyly “I feel the same Y/n. I can’t wait.” Your smile hurts your cheeks a little “okay I’ll see you then” you say goodbye and hang up the phone and shout in excitement doing a little dance as you text him your address with a heart emoji.

You wear a pair of black skinny jeans and white v neck flowy blouse that shows just enough of your lace bra to be tasteful and sexy. You hope it doesn’t get too cold tonight bc a jacket would take from the look. You wear simple jewelry and a pair of black ankle boots with a heel.

Your phone in your hand and when it goes off you read the notification “knock knock” it says and then your eyes flash to the door when you hear him knock. You smile and shake out your limbs, you’re so excited and nervous. You open the door and look him up and down, black shoes, straight blue jeans, and a black button up shirt tucked in with rolled sleeve. He looks good. It’s simple and handsome. You can’t help but throw your arms around his neck “right on time” you say and he laughs and returns your hug “you smell amazing” he says when you pull away and you see he is blushing just a little “thank you! My favorite perfume, I’m glad you like it. You obviously check him out again “you look really handsome” he lets out a shy laugh “thank you y/n.” He looks into your eyes when he says “You look beautiful.” It’s your turn to blush and you shove your phone in your pocket and grab your keys as a way to pretend you weren’t as flustered as you were. “thank you” your voice is shy and you clear your throat before looking back at him and asking “Are you ready?” He nods and you exit your apartment and lock the door before putting your keys in your pocket.

When you get to the street he takes your hand in his and you smile and give his hand a squeeze. “So where we going Daichi?” You ask and he grins “I thought we’d get some meat buns from the old shop and then walk around all the places we used to go as teenagers.” Your smile widens “that is perfect!” He looks relieved “I’m glad you think so. I was worried for a second.” He laughs and clears his throat “so what are you doing now y/n? How long are you back for?” You’re absentmindedly rubbing soft circles on his hand with your thumb as you respond “I’m back for good. I’m actually a teacher at Karasuno and the new girls volleyball coach!” You exclaim, eager to talk about it because of how excited you were. It seems like his body relaxes a little at your words “that’s amazing y/n! I’m so happy for you! And to be honest I’m glad you’re gonna be back now, I really missed you.” You bump your shoulder into his lightly “I missed you too Daichi ” you say and you notice the blush on his cheeks. “So you’re a police officer now!” He laughs “yeah I am. I just want to protect people you know?” You nod “I understand that. You were always a good guy, I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You reach the shop and start to bounce on your toes “I’m happy to see you’re still the same in some ways” you quirk your eyebrow at him “when you’re excited you bounce and dance around. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen” he gets you both a few buns and gestures to the drink selection “do you want anything else?” You grab a drink “thank you, and I never really noticed that I do that” you nervous laugh as you both head to the counter, Ukai wasn’t there and you were unsure what he was up to now, you didn’t ask the cashier.

When you left the store you thank Daichi for paying and then say “do you wanna go eat this in the school? It’s not trespassing because I happen to have a key. And I could show you my classroom!!” you smile mischievously and get excited and he laughs, how could he say no to you? “that sounds perfect” he carries the bag on one hand and takes yours in his other again as you walk up the hill to the school.

You unlock the school door that the staff can use, and make sure it locks behind you guys before leading him down the familiar halls. “I am going to be the first year home room teacher” you say as you unlock your classroom door and he walks in. When you turn on the lights it’s looks exactly like it did when you were in it. “It’s nothing to brag about because it looks exactly like it did when we were here” you laugh and he turns around smiling “i would have paid more attention in class if you were my teacher. I was too distracted by a certain girl who sat next to me” he blushes and it takes you a second to realize that he means he was distracted by you. You blush “oh hush Daichi we both know you were always top of the class, couldn’t worry about school if you wanted to focus on volleyball” he laughs at you calling him out and he comes over to you and tucks your hair behind your ear “that may be true but only because we only had like one class together a year.” You smile up at him “whatever you say” you dramatically roll your eyes and he laughs “bun time?” You ask and bounce on your toes again “bun time” he says and sets the bag down on your desk and handing you one.

You end up sitting on your desk with your ankles crossed, kicking them softly, as he sits in your teacher chair facing you. “So how was college? I heard you went abroad” you smile and nod “it was amazing. I met a lot of really cool people and my volleyball team was amazing. How was police academy? I’ve heard it’s tough” he nods and finishes chewing “it wasn’t too bad. A little hard at times but you know me. Top of my class” he smirks and you laugh.

“Daichi?” “Hmm?” He says with a mouth full “whatever happened to you and Yui? My mom said you two were gonna get married” he took a long drink before he sighed and said “it’s what everyone expected. It was the easy route in my life. But it wasn’t what I wanted. It didn’t make me happy. Hurting her sucked but it would have been worse farther down the road. My mom said you were going to get engaged too” the last sentence was quiet but he didn’t break eye contact.

You ran your shoe up his calf to his knee before you said “there was one I thought could be something, but he cheated on me with my best friend right before graduation. When I dumped him and it didn’t hurt I realized I didn’t even love him anyway. I was just trying to convince myself I was happy with him when I wasn’t. And honestly Daichi, I’m surprised you never asked me out in high school. I heard your team members tell you that you should once.” You took a bite of your bun and he almost choked on his, you smirked at his reaction as you chewed.

You raise your eyebrows and rub softly up his knee when he won’t look at you. He took a drink of his water and then stood, coming to stand in front of your knees. Your eyes widen in shock and you set your bun down on your desk beside you as he softly took your face in his hands, tilting it up, “y/n” his voice is soft and he smiles down at you and he’s gazing into your eyes with such care “y/n I should have. I should have that day they told me to. But I chickened out and I regret it, I went for the easiest route and it didn’t make me happy.” He let his hands drop from your face and in the same moment you grabbed them in your own, looking down at them when you speak “I want you to be happy most of all. When my mom called me to tell me you were dating Yui, I thought that maybe that was fate, that if anything, I could be happy because you were happy” you laugh a little sadly and rub you fingers across his but pause when he speaks “please, look at me” his voice was quiet and you immediately looked up into his eyes “there you are, I missed out on seeing your beautiful eyes for years now, don’t make me any longer” he smiles as he continues “I didn’t think I would get another chance, I thought for sure my mom would call to tell me you were engaged soon.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through your hair “never did I think you’d come crashing into me again” you laugh, feeling like you were dreaming. He leaves his hands where your neck meets your jaw and rubs his thumbs softly across your skin giving you goosebumps.

You caught him off guard when you opened your knees and smirked at his look of shock when he fell forward a little into you, just close enough where you could softly connect your lips with his for a second. His eyes widened before they softened, a smile on his lips as you slowly and softly ran your hands up his chest to his shoulders then landed on the back of his neck playing with his short hair, your thighs squeezing him closer to you.

“Are you going to let me get away again, Sawamura?” You smirk up at him as his hands reach down and run slowly up your thighs before stopping and squeezing your hips and you continue, “so many things we could have done in the past, but the past made us who we are now. What are you going to do now?” Your arms move down to wrap around his middle as you press your chests together grinning mischievously up at him, watching his cheeks blush as he smiles down at you. “Now that I’ve found you again I’m never letting you go” he kisses you hard and you melt into him. His tongue brushes the bottom of you lip and you let him in, your tongues circling each other and you can’t help it when you moan into his mouth.

“Troublemakers. Even as adults” Daichi flys backwards and you both look to see who entered the room. “Sorry Mrs. J.” You say at the same time. Your old teacher just “tchs” and walks off with her box of something.

You look back to him and after a few seconds you bust up laughing and he comes back and hugs you. “I didn’t know anyone one else was in the building!” You say and he says “I didn’t know she was still alive!” Which makes you laugh even harder. He was right though. She was like eighty when you guys were in school and now she’s still working here. “She’s gonna give me so much crap for this... I’m gonna be in trouble in the first day! Daichi you’re always getting me into trouble!” you laugh together, until you’re just gazing up at each other smiling softly.

He kisses your forehead and you sigh happily and let your eyes flutter as he hugs you close into his chest. “I’m sorry sweetheart” he says with a chuckle “for getting you into trouble” you laugh softly “it’s okay. I always love the trouble we get into. I’ll choose it over everything” you say quietly and he pulls back, tucking your hair behind your ears and kisses you softly again.

Suddenly you get an idea “Hey! How about we go play a little volleyball?” He laughs at the cute sparkle in your eye “Let’s go” he says and gives you a small peck before gathering things and throwing away trash.

You get outside and then you pull him into a heated kiss before taking off running towards the volleyball courts laughing, his foot steps and laughter following you. You reach the courts and he pushed you up against the door kissing you again. You pull away laughing, out of breath, feeling like a teenager again.

In the empty girls court you flip on the lights to find the net still up, you make a mental note to talk to the team about that.

You kick your shoes off and run off to get a ball from the closet “Okay, we’ll start easy so I can get a sense at where you’re at now” you say in your best “Captain Daichi” voice with a laugh as you bounce the ball up in the air on one side of the net. He’s on the other side of the net with smirk on his lips “bring it on” he looks so determined and he winks at you, for half a second you could have sworn you were eighteen again.

There was no way to really play one on one, so you decided that you’d bring the boundaries in so you’d have less space to cover and made it so you could hit the ball twice.

You had to admit, he played amazing even in jeans, you loved when his shirt would ride up when he’d jump and you got a glimpse of his stomach and the trimmed hair under his belly button.

He had to admit you looked amazing playing, you were so skilled and talented he loved to watch you. He also loved the lacy bra that would be exposed more when you’d receive.

You didn’t play very long, you won one and he won one and after that he couldn’t take it anymore and had to come around and kiss you. When you pull back breathless you stare into his eyes “what are you doing tomorrow?” You ask quietly and he brushes his thumbs across your cheeks “I have to work but I get off around six” he says and you nod “do you wanna have dinner? I’ll cook for you like old times” he laughs “you’re planning a second date when we’re not even finished with the first. I’d love to have dinner with you” you smile bright “good! Let’s stop by the shop again if they’re still open and I’ll get some ingredients on the way home.” He loves you so much he’s so happy to be with you finally

You clean up and close up the gym, taking his hand as you walk back down the hill to the shop. You talked about your plans for the girls volleyball team, implementing things you learned from college teams. At the shop you get the ingredients to make his favorite meal, shoyu ramen. He helps you carry the bags back to your apartment and helps you put stuff away. You walk him to the door and he pulls you into his arms again and kisses you, his hand on your cheek. When he pulls away you smile warmly “text me when you get home. Be safe baby” he blushes at your pet name and gives you another peck before saying “I will. Goodnight y/n” you close your door and lean up against it smiling. This was the last thing you expected when coming home but it was also the best thing that could have happened.

#daichi x y/n #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura imagine #daichi sawamura fluff #haikyuu daichi #daichi x you #hq daichi

[zigtheeortega]

unrequited [part 3]

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 6327

✿ warnings: innuendos, mention of drugs

✿ author’s note: well, this took a lot longer to finish than i expected (lmaooo). i kind of lost interest in open heart after seeing how horribly characters were sidelined, including my fav surgeon. i’ve worked on this on and off since april after i posted part 2, so this is like 4 ish months in the making. this series means the absolute world to me because it was the first time i was really confident in my writing. not as confident in the conclusion, but it’s been weighing on me for months, so i felt obligated to finish it! i hope you all enjoy it!

added my tags to the end bc there’s quite a few, so i’m sorry if i tagged you and you didn’t want to be – i’m going off of who asked to be tagged/asked for a part 3 months ago!

[read part 1 and part 2 here]

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

“Hey, Spence. What’s wrong?”

She glanced at the door, expecting to see his arm pressed against the frame of the door, slouched casually like he hadn’t a care in the world. Instead, Bryce was unusually close to her, standing right next to her chair, like he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m just so… tired. It feels like I’m trying to sprint underwater right now and I don’t know why. I can’t explain it,” she watched him, gauging his reaction, but something was off.

“C’mon, I think I know exactly what you need right now,” his smile was Bryce’s, but the familiar twinkle of mischief and flirtiness in his eye wasn’t there.

He turned wordlessly, walking out of the door and down the hallway, which was a lot longer than she’d remembered.

She shook it off and trailed behind him, heart beating soundly in her chest. Was he bringing her to the on call room? To the supply closet? Maybe to an unattended office?

“So, where are you taking me?” She asked playfully, reaching out to link her finger in his, but she fell short, even though he was right in front of her.

He either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, walking straight ahead at the same pace. “Bryce, did you hear me?”

He didn’t pick up his pace, but she fell behind, trying to keep up, – to no avail. She looked down, thinking maybe – crazily – that she’d stepped into cement, slowing her pace to a crawl, or something else that was explainable.

But she was fine.

She pushed herself harder as she fell farther and farther back, Bryce’s stride never breaking.

She pumped her arms, leaning forward, trying desperately to swim through the thick atmosphere, practically pedaling against the ground to gain some type of momentum.

“Bryce? Bryce! Hello?” She yelled, as his figure got smaller and smaller, the hall literally stretching to accommodate the distance between them.

She watched as the wall space stretched, new door frames popping up, the number of rooms multiplying by the second.

He turned back for the first time as she clawed her way towards him, making no progress. “You gotta try a little harder for me, Spence.”

He smiled, not sinisterly, but just wide enough, lacking just the right amount of his effortless charm, that she got chills.

She jolted awake, the sound of her alarm interrupting her R.E.M. She snatched her phone off the dresser and tapped her screen, met with a brief silence before the distant noise of traffic – engines rumbling, and horns blaring below – filled her room.

She sat up, panting, her back slick with cooled sweat, the thin fabric of her top clinging to her skin. She breathed deeply, calming her quick pulse, until a muffled sound broke her concentration.

Her phone laid face down on her comforter, slivers of light peeking out of the sides. She flipped it, and her eyes widened in horror after reading Bryce’s name at the top of the screen, but even more so after watching the numbers tick higher and higher.

It wasn’t an alarm – he’d called her at 3 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you okay? You picked up but I didn’t hear anything besides heavy breathing.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just woke me up.”

“Right. Sorry.” He was silent long enough that she almost asked if he’d muted her. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“About what? You’re freaking me out a little bit,” she laughed once, but it came out as a scoff, and she kicked herself internally.

She didn’t want him to think she was mad. If anything, she’d been craving any time she could get with him.

They’d maintained a semblance of normality after the party, speaking to each other in the hallways, hanging out in groups, but they never unpacked their past conversation further.

She knew she’d said some profoundly batshit things while she was drunk, and vaguely remembered professing her feelings to him, but he never brought it up.

When she surprised the group with tickets to a music festival, she had ulterior motives. She wanted to get him as alone as she could in a sea of thousands. She wanted to make things right. But because Bryce was wholly intoxicating, she couldn’t do anything but live in their moment, the tough conversations – though inevitable – a million miles away.

They danced, they kissed, and she was enraptured by him. The way her hand fit into his own, the way his warm palm felt against her lower back, the way the cool tones of the stage lights bounced off of his bronzed skin, the way the smooth bass of his voice sounded as his full lips were nearly pressed against her ear, the way his smile was just crooked enough to be a smoulder and a smirk at the same time, and it was insufferable, but she adored it… Everything about Bryce was everything she’d ever wanted.

And she thought she was close to getting it back. She thought that’d be the end of it. They made up, and they could move forward. She wanted him, and he wanted her, finally.

But nothing came of it. He never avoided her, but he never stayed around long enough for her to bring up the night of the party.

The seed of hope in her chest blossomed, budding slowly every instance they spent enough time together to make it feel like when they were interns, the exhilarating sensation of hooking up freely a nostalgia she craved. She’d worked up enough courage to treat her situation dramatically – like in a movie – showing up at his apartment, wine in hand, ready to have make up sex and lay it all on the table while they were both sober.

The hope bloomed, coming to fruition when she surprised him, only to find that he’d been hiding his personal problems. It explained why he’d been avoiding her, she thought.

Bryce Lahela was a prideful bastard – one who couldn’t admit he needed a lifesaver until he was already sinking. He was in over his head, drowning underneath the pressure of fostering his kid sister, whom he had virtually no relationship with, all the while balancing residency – as well as… whatever was happening between them.

When she planned to spend her whole life making it up to him, she wasn’t bluffing. So when she saw the opportunity to salvage and strengthen the siblings’ relationship with something as simple as cooking pasta, she dove in headfirst, hand outstretched, eagerly pulling him to safety.

“Keiki’s gone,” he sighed, and she could feel his anxiety and overwhelming dread through that one deep breath.

“Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’? Did she go back to Maui?” She asked frantically, throwing her covers back, and began pacing the room.

“For all I know, she could be at the airport or across state lines by now,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve thrown her a going away party or something. Or at least given her a card,” she huffed, kicking at a dirty shirt she’d left on the ground.

“Well, it was kind of, uh, sudden.”

“That implies that it was out of nowhere. So she just bolted? Unprovoked?”

“I mean, it was a little provoked.” He said under his breath, just above a whisper.

“Bryce… what are you not telling me?” She asked, uneasy. She didn’t know if she wanted to hear his answer.

“We got into a fight –”

“And she ran away.” She finished for him.

“... And she ran away.” He said.

She could sense his shame through the phone, his voice getting weaker with every word. She slipped out from under the covers, and tiptoed to her closet, throwing on the first shirt and pair of pants she touched.

“You can explain why later, but right now we need to go find her. We can meet at the subway stop closest to your place. You can start by retracing her steps. Are there any corner stores she liked? Maybe a skate park? She seems like she’d be into that kind of stuff –”

“Spence.”

“Yeah?” “You don’t have to help me. I know things have been kind of weird lately. Don’t feel obligated to help me. This is my fuck up, not yours.”

“We can talk about ‘us’ later, Bryce. Even if we were on bad terms, you know I’d drop anything to help you and Keiki. I know you don’t have anyone to lean on.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath that she could barely hear over the slight static of the phone. “Thank you.” “You can thank me after we find her.”

––––

As soon as she stepped off the subway, Spencer hit a near sprint, trying to get to their designated meeting spot. The Boston weather was as unforgiving as ever, the chilled wind stinging her cheeks.

She ran towards the hole in the wall pizza joint that Keiki had told her about offhandedly the night they’d cooked together.

As soon as she saw Bryce’s form, she slowed to a jog, nearly breathless, both by the physical exertion and how awful he looked. His features mirrored the one she’d seen in the supply closet, his defeated expression a painful memory she’d worked hard to bury.

She’d never seen him cry before, but from the way his red-rimmed eyes nearly sagged, nose rubbed raw, lips tight, she felt emotionally spared by not being there whilst the tears fell.

“Bryce?”

“Hey, Spencer,” He smiled weakly, sniffling and rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Did you go inside and ask the owners if she stopped by?” “Yeah, they said she was here an hour ago. She stopped for a slice but didn’t stay long,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled his phone from his pocket, before tapping on his screen.

“Okay, that’s great news! She couldn’t have gotten far,” she said, before swivelling back towards where she came from. “C’mon, I hope you have your monthly pass. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

“Where to next?” He joked, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“First thing’s first, did you check to see if her location was on?”

“She never had it on in the first place. I guess she thought I’d show up and embarrass her or something,” he shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

They stepped onto the dingy subway car, nearly empty except for one other person who was slumped over in their seat, asleep.

“I doubt it. She has a soft spot for you, Bry,” she sat down, readjusting her loose sweatpants before doing so.

“If she did, then she doesn’t anymore. I think I really fucked up this time,” he said, more to himself than her.

He ended it there, so she decided to nudge him a little. “You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if I had some context.”

“No, no, I… want to. I trust you,” he glanced over to her, holding her eye for the first time that night. He inched his hand over to hers, cautiously, debating, she thought, before settling on rubbing his thumb up and down her pinky finger.

The dying bud in her chest bloomed once again, warmth spreading throughout her limbs at his touch, his soft gesture quenching the thirst her heart so desperately pined for. 

She blinked, eyes trained on his mouth, unable to tear her gaze away from his lips. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was good at hiding it.

“I said and did some things I shouldn’t have. Some things that might’ve reminded her of our parents,” he started.

She waited for him to continue, watching his chest shake as he tried to find the words between the deep breaths he took to calm himself.

“She’s taking after me, and I don’t like it. Not me, like Dr. Lahela, one of the best surgeons this world has ever seen –” a hint of a smirk curled the corner of his lip – “but like the rebellious, angry, reckless teen Bryce who just wanted… attention. From anyone.”

“So… why don’t you give her that?”

He blew out a sharp huff of air. “I don’t get her. And I’m trying really hard to. But there’s only so many hours in the day, and I don't think she felt like I was trying hard enough.”

“You got wrapped up in work like your parents did, huh?” She asked softly, placing her other hand on top of his, quietly lacing her fingers through his.

“Yeah,” he said, remorseful. “I just wish I could’ve kept my fucking mouth shut for once –”

“Hey, hey, stop that. You can feel as guilty as you want after we find her, but we have to stay positive right now,” she said, a bit sternly, covering his hand with her own, gripping it tightly.

He watched her face, searching for something. Maybe a crack in her sincerity? Ulterior motives? She wasn’t sure if he trusted people or not, and it perplexed her to think about it – she’d known Bryce for over a year and couldn’t name a single person that she knew he definitively trusted.

“Thanks, Spence. I really mean it,” he said finally, a little more relaxed than he was seconds before.

He checked his phone every couple of seconds, clicking the lock screen to check the time, before locking it again, just to repeat the cycle incessantly.

“Can I be honest about something?” He asked, staring straight ahead, brows furrowed.

“Of course.”

“I… ignored her. Just like they ignored me when I started acting out. I…” He shook his head. “I said I’d never be like them.”

“You aren’t, Bryce,” she affirmed, rubbing his shoulder blade in soft circles. “The fact that you’re out here searching for her says so much about who you are.”

“It doesn’t say enough.”

“What do you mean?” “Running away from home means nothing if I’m not better than them. Thousands of miles of distance and I turned out just like them,” he scoffed. “The fucking cycle repeats itself.”

“Bryce…” she shifted her body, facing him completely, while he stared ahead, not meeting her eye.

“Just because you’re not good with coping with all of this doesn’t mean you’re a bad brother.”

He turned towards her finally, attentive.

“Yeah, you tend to bottle things up until they blow up, but you didn’t ask for this. You’re not her parent – you’re her brother, first and foremost. You can’t put those expectations on yourself because you’re not them. You’re doing the best you can as her brother, not her parent.”

She laced her fingers over his, squeezing the hand she’d been holding. “You can’t fault yourself for making mistakes. This is new territory for you. You’re learning and she is, too.”

The doors opened in front of them, the only indicator that they’d made it to the next stop. They were both so engrossed that they hadn’t noticed.

“We should probably get out here,” she said, standing. She didn’t check to see if he followed suit, missing the way he watched her as he walked behind her.

They clopped up the stairs again, Spencer shivering despite her cozy getup.

“Do you want my headband?” He asked, digging into his pocket. “It’s really warm.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” she took it, pulling the thick band over her hair, snug against her ears, but comfortable.

“No problem,” he said, watching her adjust it, his eyes trained on the way she pursed her lips when she couldn’t get all of her hairs to lay down just right.

“We can split up,” she started, pointing down the main street across from the subway. “I’ll check the restaurants that are open down this way, and you can go the opposite way. I’ll text you when I head back –”

“I don’t want you walking alone, Spence,” he said, shutting her down immediately.

“We’re gonna cover more ground if we split up. I can handle myself. Don’t worry about me,” she shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt while helping me look for my sister. Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft.

“Fine,” she sighed.

They checked a handful of diners, breakfast places, and even a bar, but with no luck. Even when Bryce flashed a photo from Keiki’s Instagram, no one’s eyes lit up in recognition.

He looked more and more defeated with each subway stop, his posture slumping, his lips set in a thin line.

She could feel herself deflating as well, but she couldn’t bear to show him she was quickly losing hope, too. No one was going to support Bryce the way he needed, except for her.

“Let’s stop by that skatepark. If she’s not there, there’s bound to be someone who’s seen her,” Spencer nodded resolutely, absentmindedly grasping Bryce’s hand and tugging him towards the stop.

“It’s no use,” he whispered, and she whipped around at the sound of his voice, his body grounded, like his feet were nailed to the ground.

“What’s no use?”

“This,” he gestured with both hands, tugging his chilled hands from her grip. “She doesn’t want to be in Boston. It’s my fault she hasn’t adjusted. I haven’t exactly been the best welcoming committee.”

She shook her head vigorously. “Bryce, she could care less where you live. She came here for you.”

His brows furrowed, his face contorting, his features scrunching like he was in physical pain. When he covered his face with his hand, without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder.

She whispered words of affirmation in his ear as he sobbed into her jacket, and she rubbed small soothing circles, doing her best to comfort him.

He’d never been this vulnerable in front of her. It was hard to decipher how he felt about things going wrong, his killer smile usually a convincing mask.

He pulled away after a while, his tear streaked face glimmering in the light. “Sorry. That was embarrassing,” he laughed shakily, flashing his teeth, just on the cusp of being a signature Bryce smile.

“Oh, shut up. I’ve cried in front of you before –”

“And it was embarrassing,” he teased, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

A laugh bubbled from her before she could stop it. A body aching, chest heaving, breath stealing guttural laugh that shook her to her core because of how unexpected it was. That type of joy was nearly lost on her. It was so foreign compared to the past couple weeks, and it felt good.

He cackled with her, more so at the involuntary snort that ripped from her nose, less at his not-so-subtle roast. He grasped at his chest with one hand, gasping for air. “God, I’d willingly do appendectomies for a month straight if I could get a video of that snort. I’d snap everybody.”

Her eyes widened, his words triggering a memory.

“Oh my god,” she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. She quickly opened her phone, navigating to the app she needed. “What? Is it bad?”

“No, I just realized she added me on Snapchat, so her location might be on,” she smiled to herself, opening up the geolocation map, seeing Keiki’s Bitmoji pop up – in the city. “Oh my god, Bryce, she’s still in Boston! Look, it’s her!” She hugged her phone to her chest. “She’s a couple of stops down but not that far away from us.”

He watched her with a confused expression, a little hurt, almost.

“What’s wrong?”

“... She never added me on Snap,” he nearly pouted.

She cackled again, covering her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking – real laughter. Another fleeting moment of pure joy was the eye of the storm, and she gladly basked in it. 

“I didn’t know you two were so close,” His mouth lifted at the corner, a knowing smile forming.

“Well, I got her phone number and snap in case she wanted me to show her around Boston, y’know, if you were busy,” she said between breaths, still coming down from her fit. “Or if she ever got tired of you,” she teased, the feeling of normality settling between them like there wasn’t a massive elephant in the room.

“How could you ever get tired of this face, though? I’m adorable,” he grinned, flashing her favorite 1000-watt smile that made her stomach flutter. “Nah, but really. Thank you. I don’t really know where I’d be right now without you.”

His eyes softened, the debonair facade parting just long enough for her to see what was undoubtedly her favorite side of him.

He laid his hand on her jaw, the warmth of his palm comforting, a striking contrast to the nipping cold of the night air. Both his touch and the temperature differences elicited a reflexive shiver from her, goosebumps raising on her arms underneath her jacket.

Part of her wanted to admit she’d shuddered solely because of his warm skin, because she didn’t want to inflate his ego – but there was no denying it. A single touch from Bryce was all it took to make her putty in his hands.

His gaze flickered to her lips, and he stretched his thumb to lightly drag the pad of it over her bottom lip, parted in awe. “Spencer…”

The tension thickened, their anticipation making it difficult to breathe. God, there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to grab his face and taste him again. As much as she wanted to kiss him, it wasn’t right.

“Bryce,” she whispered, eyelids fluttering as she watched his tongue flick out to wet his lips. “You can kiss me after we find her.”

––––

The skatepark was nearly empty, the streetlights casting long shadows from the ramps onto the concrete.

“You’re sure she’s here?” He asked, wispy streams leaving his mouth as he spoke.

“Unless she dropped her phone here, she should be close by,” she nodded towards where a few scraggly teenagers were standing around, pungent smoke in the air.

“Keiki shouldn’t be out here with those dumbasses smoking weed out in the open like that,” he huffed, eyeing them as they walked towards the back, the grassy area coming into focus.

“Relax. I doubt she’s out here to smoke. You say that like you didn’t smoke too,” she raised a brow at him, challenging.

He pursed his lips. “Oh, so it’s like that.”

“What? You can’t go all dad mode and expect me not to play devil’s advocate,” she quipped, shrugging.

Before he could form a retort, Bryce held her arm back, stopping her in her tracks.

On the steps leading down to the grass, sat Keiki, headphones in her ears, tapping her foot as she dug into a bag of chips, crunching loudly.

Bryce looked absolutely helpless, like he had no clue what to do next – so Spencer stepped forward without a second thought, trying her best not to startle her.

When she was in her line of sight, Keiki’s eyes bulged from her head, and she nearly choked on her soda. “Jesus fucking christ, you scared me,” she coughed into the crook of her elbow. “What are you doing here? Did he tell you I left?” “I was worried about you,” Spencer said, evading the last question, trying to play it cool. Keiki hadn’t noticed Bryce at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, but how’d you find me?” She popped a chip in her mouth.

“If you wanna be harder to find, you gotta try a little harder than that,” she said, plopping down on the concrete stair next to her. “Snap maps.”

“I wasn’t trying to go off the grid or whatever. I just wanted some space. It’s no big deal,” Keiki huffed, scooting away from Spencer.

“Maybe so, but you can’t leave after a fight with no explanation. You’re too young to be out here alone this late.”

“You act like I haven’t been through worse,” she muttered.

“I know you have. But you can’t just walk out like that. Bryce is all you’ve got out here.”

“Oh, so you didn’t come alone,” she rolled her eyes. “He begged you to come, didn’t he? Did he not feel like coming himself? Did he have work or something?”

Spencer winced at Keiki’s tone of voice, simultaneously laced with seething rage and hurt. “No, he’s here. You need to talk it out.”

She set her mouth into a thin line, whipping her head around to gaze up at the top of the stairs, flipping him off.. “Go away.”

She gently grasped her wrist, pulling her hand down. “Please, Keiki. There’s a lot of things he won’t say to you, but I’ve heard them. If he didn’t regret what he said to you, I wouldn’t be helping him,” she pleaded, squeezing her wrist comfortingly.

Keiki glanced away, then back to her eyes, then back to the ground, unable to hold her gaze. “Okay.”

Spencer stood up, motioning for Bryce to come towards her. He met her halfway down the stairs, his gaze soft and admiring. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she smiled, reaching out to rub a hand against his arm. “Go work things out with your sister.”

He leaned in, surprising her with a soft peck on the corner of her upturned lips. “Thanks.” He winked and took the rest of the stairs two at a time, a spring in his step.

She watched as he bent down to sit next to her hunched form, nearly dwarfing her. Over the next twenty minutes, she focused on their backs, heads bobbing as they discussed and argued. They gradually relaxed, Kekei’s body unfurling from her condensed form, Bryce draping an arm on the step behind her.

And when they arose to walk towards Spencer’s place at the top of the stairs, they were both laughing, flashing the same grin.

God they were so similar – and didn’t even know it.

“I’m gonna wait over there while you two makeout,” Keiki grimaced, frowning as soon as her joke dawned on her. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Glad you’re back,” she called, but she was already throwing up a peace sign, back turned, probably not registering what she’d said.

The second they were alone, the nerves hit, the heat of his body next to hers already stifling. While she debated whether or not to meet his eye, he spoke.

“You wanna cash in on that kiss now?”

She glanced up, breath hitching in her throat when she realized how close his face was to her own. Her half lidded gaze was trained on his bottom lip, caught between his teeth. As soon as a quiet “yes” fell from her lips, he captured them in a searing kiss.

For a few blissful moments, the only sound between them were their soft sighs of contentment. She couldn’t remember if Bryce always kissed like this – so passionate and so enthusiastic, yet so cool, so suave.

Every methodical movement of his jaw was so practiced, so refined, she felt like underneath the flickering streetlight, in Bryce’s strong grip, she was the one he operated on, her chest reopened, her heart exposed. Everything she had to give was laid out on the metaphorical operating table, and as cheesy as it sounded, there was a chance he could save her.

The kiss was a reawakening for her. She knew what she had to do. She’d never been more sure of anything before.

She pulled back, their noses touching, as she whispered four words she knew he wouldn’t expect to hear. Maybe he’d forgotten what he asked her the moment it left his lips, but she was determined to mend what she’d broken.

“Ask me to choose.”

“Huh?” He panted, running a thumb across her jawline.

“Just ask me.”

“What do you choose?” He laughed, clearly confused.

“You. Always,” she breathed, tugging him forward by the collar of his jacket, sealing her promise with a kiss.

––––

On the ride home, Spencer sat cuddled up next to him, their fingers tightly wound – like they were afraid if the other let go, it wouldn’t be real. 

“Did I say anything… big to you while I was drunk?” She asked, breaking the silence.

Bryce chuckled softly, trying not to wake a sleeping Keiki, curled up next to him, somehow lulled to sleep by the loud, aggressive music blaring from her headphones.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Shit, I really thought I’d made that up,” she shook her head, covering her face with her other hand.

“Nah, you definitely dropped a bomb on me that night.”

“Bryce,” she whined. “Can’t you just tell me? I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Glad I’ve got you hot and bothered,” he grinned, teasing. “Well… you said, and I quote ‘I think I love you’.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she turned, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Did I really?” “I said it back.”

She looked up from her place against his shoulder, mouth agape as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you think or do you know?” She whispered, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“After tonight, I’m more sure than I ever have been,” he shook his head. “Probably more sure of this than anything else in my life right now.”

He used his free hand to cup her face, kissing her lips tenderly. She couldn’t remember a time he’d kissed her with that much care.

“So are you gonna say it first, or am I gonna have to?” He murmured against her lips, earning a surprised laugh from her.

“I’ve done a lot of your dirty work tonight,” she joked.

“Not the kind of dirty I’d prefer, but I’ll give you the credit you deserve,” he laughed as she swatted his chest. He pulled back, holding her gaze with no ounce of fear in his deep brown eyes.

“I love you, Spencer,” he said, his voice taking the most candid tone she’d heard from him.

“I love you, too, Bryce. I always have,” she said, feeling her throat constrict, voice cracking. “I should’ve told you sooner how I felt.”

“I think it happened at the right time. I wanted a lot from you when I didn’t even have my own shit together,” he shrugged, still cupping her face in his calloused palm. “I couldn’t even give what I wanted to receive, ya know?”

“Wow… that’s profound,” she said, in all seriousness.

“Oh, you’re making fun of the meathead for being smart now, huh?” He cackled. Keiki didn’t even stir next to him, despite his booming laugh reverberating throughout the empty car.

“No, no, I’m serious. That’s the most self reflection I’ve ever heard from you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about my mistakes.”

“Me, too. But… we can work through that stuff if you want to talk it out,” she offered, cuddling up to him for warmth again.

“Is therapy your side hustle or something, Spence? Is there something you need to tell me?” He teased, tickling her ribs with his freehand.

She let out an ear piercing shriek, completely caught off guard. “Bryce! Stop it! Please,” she said between laughs, noting the way he smoothly slid his arm around her waist, so that when he stopped, they were closer than before.

“Can you two shut up? I’m trying to sleep,” Keiki grumbled, taking them out of their moment.

“Oh, so you’re exhausted from scaring the shit out of me. By all means, get your beauty sleep,” he said, taking the headband Spencer borrowed from him, slingshotting it directly at Keiki’s forehead.

“That’s it!” Keiki shouted, leaping up on the bench and grabbing Bryce in a headlock, scuffling with him while he most definitely let her win.

Spencer was thankful their car was empty as chaos ensued but she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the fight in front of her – they’d never done typical sibling things like that before. They were robbed of normality from such a young age, and a playful fight was a step in the right direction.

“Uncle, uncle!” Bryce called out convincingly, winking at Spencer. Keiki’s fingers were tangled in his hair, one of his arms trapped in the crook of her elbow. He swatted at her face, trying to get her to let him go.

“We don’t have any uncles,” Keiki said, chomping down on his hand.

“Ow! You little shit – I need these for work –” He hissed.

“Yeah, you didn’t think I was gonna go for the kill? Serves you right for underestimating me,” she huffed, hopping off of him and back into her spot on the bench.

“I won’t do that again,” he smiled softly, reaching over to tousle her hair.

The doors slid open, startling them all.

“I’ll go ahead so you can talk to your girlfriend. Bye, Spence,” Keiki said, waving, strutting out towards the stairs without a second glance.

Her heart swelled at the younger Lahela sibling’s use of the nickname Bryce coined for her.

“So…” She said, as they stepped out into the chill night air for the last time, the first rays of sunlight peeking over the tops of the buildings. “What do we do now?”

“What, after this thrilling conclusion to our months of back and forth?”

“Bryce,” she rolled her eyes, barely holding back a smile. “We barely even talked any of this out. I mean like… where do we go from here?”

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re clean slating it.”

“You don’t wanna talk about that stuff at the party? Or in the supply closet?” She winced. “Maybe when we wanna tackle that, but as of right now, I’m just happy to have you all to myself,” he grinned, snaking his arms around her hips, leaning in to press another kiss on her bottom lip.

“You don’t know how fucking badly I wanna bring you back home right now,” he murmured against her lips.

She groaned, lacing her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. “God, me too.”

“Soon as I spend some time with Keiki and can get some time set aside for us, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he smirked, eliciting a shudder from her.

“I guess we’re dating now, huh?” She raised her brows, quirking her mouth to the side. “Don’t tell your roommates yet, please. I wanna see how long it takes them to put two and two together,” he said, a mischievous look in his eye.

“As long as you don’t tell yours,” she teased.

“Keiki’s definitely gonna notice we’re a thing if you keep showing up and leaving with wobbly legs,” he said, and raised a brow at her.

“Shit, you’re really flirty today,” she giggled, her face flushing because of both the Boston air and his innuendos.

“I’m making up for lost time, baby,” he grinned, pulling her in for what seemed like the hundredth kiss that night, but it felt just as incredible as their first supply closet makeout.

Although they had to part ways that night, both of them were rejuvenated in a way they hadn’t been in months – since they were noncommittally hooking up, secretly hoping the other made some kind of move to solidify what was between them.

And although it took way too fucking long for her to come around, Spencer was finally giving him what he deserved. Every single part of her. No distractions, no restraints, no excuses.

Every quip, every embrace, every kiss they shared that night nourished the flora of her heart, quenching her desperate thirst for his validation like a gentle summer rain, and she basked in it, head upturned like a silent thank you to the universe for giving her the chance to mend what she’d broken.

The vines that’d once had her heart in a constricting hold made way for the blossoming flowers; they’d both never forget their past mistakes, passion-fueled arguments, or the pain they’d endured at the hands of each other, but amidst those heated moments, amidst the beautiful disaster, their garden of love budded, a harmonious existence.

––––

tags: @beccadavenport ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @messofakind ; @violinet ; @hudush ; @altairadtaz ; @agentdumortain ; @drsobemoji ; @levineseth ; @omgjasminesimone ; @lahellacute ; @doctorsurferbro ; @eleanorbloom ; @tarajoyful ; @bobbysmckenzie ; @raleiighcarrera ; @pixeljazzy 

#playchoices #open heart #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc #my fic #jade writes choices fics #just in time for the oph awards LMFAO #um i worked really hard on this and i'm very nervous #so please be kind #this is my longest fic too #so like im sorry if there's dips in quality - but i'm still very proud of it #anyways thank you to anyone who's ever read it

[brytmoon]

i feel like i'm being really annoying about it to ppl so i'm gonna vent here about struggles i have that might be undiagnosed adhd symptoms since i don't have a very big following except for two close friends (sorry y'all)

1. hygiene, such as brushing my teeth in the morning and showering, is hard. it's been hard my whole life but even now, i'll stare at myself in the mirror or scroll through my phone as i try to convince myself to brush my teeth. (this may or may not be related, but i hate going to the dentist, too.) with showering, it's hard to find the time. i always make sure to shower as often as possible (which is every other day, usually) or i make sure i don't smell if i haven't because i'm scared of having b.o. with both, i have to motivate myself to do it with fancy toothpastes and mouthwash or nice-smelling shower gels and lotions. I'm guessing this is executive dysfunction???

2. I've been incredibly disorganized my whole life. i once thought i had adhd when i was younger because of how disorganized i was. I've always had a super messy backpack and a super messy room (it's really messy rn) but i always know where everything is. i had a ds for at least ten years but lost it a couple months ago in the middle of playing it. where did it go???? i have no idea bruh. and i lose my phone all. the. time.

3. i'm terrible with procrastinating. turning in projects and essays at 11:59 after bullshitting it either all day or mere hours before the due date??? a constant. having failing homework grades and having ntis in every class, no matter how much i enjoy it??? a constant. i once did a whole project i hadn't started on until the morning of the due date. i worked on it while in other classes and at lunch and turned it in 3 minutes before the dropbox closed. anything that's not what i enjoy or zaps the fun out of what i enjoy, i procrastinate with. I've sat in front of the computer screen and almost cried so many times because i couldn't get myself to type up a scholarship essay, which OBVIOUSLY would greatly benefit me as a broke college student, but it doesn't matter bc my brain thinks it's boring so why not push it off?? because i procrastinate, i tend to overwhelm myself so much that i break down at least once when an assignment's due because I've formed a terrible habit of pushing myself to overexertion to get a project done that's meant to be done gradually.

4. bouncing off that last point, I'm terrible with time management and remembering events/due dates/assignments to complete. I've tried using schedule apps and alarms. I've tried to plan out my days. I've tried forming routines and habits to get things done at appropriate times and it doesn't work. that schedule app i downloaded and spent so much time filling out? completely forgotten in a week or two. i swipe away the notifications and pay no attention to them. since everything's virtual now, there have been important college information zoom calls, but i forget about them and miss them. i can't remember events, due dates, or assignments if i don't write them down. since i meet every other day or sometimes once a week for a specific class in college, i can easily forget something mentioned earlier that week that's due the next week over the weekend. i have to remember to write in my agenda in order to remember to do something important, which can be stressful and convoluted 🙃🙃 so my bad time management results in further procrastination and missed opportunities, which makes me feel awful about myself late at night when all i can think about is what i should've done better or differently.

5. chores and hobbies are... interesting. when i do get the energy or motivation to clean or draw, i will hyperfocus on them. if i finally feel like cleaning, I'll skip breakfast and/or lunch and won't take care of myself until I'm done. same happens with drawing. and as stupid or funny as it sounds, i find getting up to go pee so annoying!!!! I'm in the middle of doing something i FINALLY want to do and then i have to get up to go use the bathroom. i don't want to break my concentration bc it's an inconvenience. then with hobbies (y'know, things i want to do and enjoy) i procrastinate!! I've been trying to watch atla since everyone loves it and i like it too, but i put off watching it and other shows like crazy. i play instruments and love to do so, but don't practice very often and spend a couple hours doing so when i do because i remember how fun it is. when i do laundry, I'll remember to put the clothes in the washing machine and start it. but then I'll forget to either put them in the dryer, take them out of the dryer, or fold them. i often have to rewash loads because I'll forget they're in there or I'll have a pile of clothes sitting on my bed for days because i procrastinate with folding them and putting them up.

6. i am the most motivated and have the most energy at night. over the summer, I'd stay up until 4 or 5 am on a regular basis. I'd be the most productive during that time but my sleeping schedule would be so off because of it.

7. so people with adhd crave things that produce dopamine, right? well i snack on candy all the time. and i mean it when i say it's ALL THE TIME. my favorite one is red hots because they're crunchy and spicy. eating candy helps me focus and is probably a form of me seeking more stimulation, but it's bad because of my teeth hygiene issues and me hating to go to the dentist. i also can't do tasks quietly. i have to be listening to music or watching a video while working on something and there are times when i want to do both while working??? so now when i watch something or listen to music without working, i tend to need something to do so i scroll through Instagram while having the show on even though it makes me miss what's happening sometimes.

8. i don't really fidget much i don't think?? but i do weird stuff while listening to someone talk. in school, i often doodled on my worksheets and got in trouble for it. I'd draw eyes in the margins, characters I'm fixated on, squiggly lines, and would color in my o's. or while listening to a family member vent, i dance around or listen while scrolling through Instagram. i also have a baaad habit of picking at my skin (dermatillomania). I'd focus on picking scabs for a really long time when i was alone and bored and have scars on my face and legs from doing it. I've picked at my face since i was a kid and absent mindedly do it every day.

9. i can get quite distracted and have to ask for directions to be repeated because i won't hear them?? like my brain won't process what someone said until they say it again when i'm actually fully paying attention. my mom will ask me to run an errand for her and she'll need to repeat it to me because i'll get distracted while she's explaining or i'll forget what she said after walking away. i get off track in conversations a lot and can't really listen well when there's a lot of other noise going on, like in cafeterias. i'll be talking to one friend and hear another interesting conversation down the table and pause while speaking bc my attention shifted. i also can lose my train of thought quite easily when waiting to speak and forget what i was saying and not be able to remember it for the life of me. so I'll interrupt sometimes so i don't forget

10. when talking to friends, i feel like i talk about myself a lot. i like to use my personal experiences to connect with what they said and be empathetic to them, but i worry this comes off as being conceited. i heard that it might be an adhd thing i do to keep myself engaged in the conversation.

i think that's all of them??? I'm so sorry to anyone who has to scroll through all this jgjrjrj but i guess it's good to make note of this stuff in some way because i articulate my feelings better when typing instead of speaking. and this'll be helpful to reference when chatting with a future therapist which i will hopefully get soon! and if anyone sits through this and has any advice, I'm all ears!!

#adhd things #undiagnosed adhd #adhd culture #adhd inattentive

[junghelioseok]

pronoia.

↳ you can definitively say that you did not sign up for this.

◇ namjoon x reader ◇ zombie apocalypse!au | college!au ◇ 15k [1/1]

notes: a very late birthday present for @imaginationofacrazyfangirl, who i kind of like for some reason. 

⇢ pronoia (n): a state of mind that is the opposite of paranoia. a suspicion that the universe is conspiring in your favor.

warnings: some violence obviously. some gore. mostly just me trying to be funny. irreverent humor, zombieland jokes, and a couple bad philosophy references bc idk what i’m talking about. exactly one (1) brooklyn 99 joke. yoongi is lowkey a badass bc u cannot convince me his crafty, conniving ass wouldn’t be good in this kind of situation. jk’s ready to risk it all for a twinkie. tbh this is kind of a mess and the ending might be rushed but i still worked really hard on it so please leave feedback sndfjfkjsksds 🙈

It’s too quiet.

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, the dull hum fading into the background as water starts dripping somewhere to your left. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically against your ribcage as you suck in a deep breath and tighten your grip on your baseball bat.

It’s hard to believe that just three days ago, you were a regular college student. Three days ago, your biggest concerns were finding a decently paid summer job and getting through your last philosophy lecture without daydreaming about the cute teaching assistant bending you over his desk. But now, sandwiched between two rows in the back of your university’s biggest auditorium, you have several new concerns. Bigger concerns.

And first and foremost among them, are the zombies.

To be honest, you still aren’t entirely sure how it happened. The last emergency alert had killed your phone’s battery for good, and you’d only just managed to catch a glimpse of the words “mutated virus” and “nationwide epidemic” before the screen faded to black. And a good thing too—the undead guy trying to sneak up on you from behind definitely would have gotten you had you not seen his reflection in your now-useless hunk of metal and glass.

Thank god for the softball unit in high school gym class, you think to yourself, trying in vain to wipe the blood and brain matter off of your bat. Sure, you didn’t think you’d be utilizing those skills to kill zombies, but at this new low point in your life, anything that aids your survival is a home run in your book.

Deeming your weapon sufficiently clean, you tuck it back into a makeshift sling you’d fashioned out of an old scarf, adjusting it so that it lays flat against your spine. With both hands now free, you begin inching toward the back exit. There’s a growing ache in your bladder that you can no longer ignore, and you send a quick prayer up to any gods that may exist before cracking the auditorium door open, glancing left and right down the seemingly empty hallway. Silently, you count to ten.

After a few more moments of deliberation, you decide the coast is clear. The restrooms are at the very end of the hall, and you can’t help but feel like the little gendered stick figures are taunting you as you cautiously make your way toward them, your shoes silent against the linoleum floor.

You are approximately fifteen feet away from your destination when you hear footsteps. Your heart kicks into overdrive at the unsteady rhythm—a short tap followed by a long dragging sound, as if the approaching individual were limping. For a moment, you debate running for the nearest bathroom and barricading yourself inside, but enclosed spaces are a bad idea according to every zombie movie you’ve ever seen, and you aren’t particularly keen on the idea of becoming zombie food.

Instead, you steel yourself and turn around, pulling out your bat. The approaching zombie doesn’t look like a student—in fact, you’re pretty sure he was your trigonometry teacher for a semester during freshman year—but that’s hardly important right now.

What is important, however, is the black-and-white figure that’s just rounded the corner behind the limping math professor-turned-zombie. And it’s running toward you—fast. Far faster than any of the undead beings you’ve seen, and, upon closer inspection, faster than most of the human beings you know.

And that can only mean one thing.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, half in surprise and half in horror as the dark-haired track star pulls even with your former professor and swings at his head, using all of his momentum and landing a solid crack. The zombie crumples to the linoleum floor, blood and viscera seeping from the crack in his skull, and you frown in distaste before looking up at your classmate. “Uh, hi?”

“{Name}?” Jungkook asks in disbelief, skidding to a stop. He’s wearing a single boxing glove on one hand and wielding a smashed wine bottle in the other, and you almost want to laugh at his appearance. After all, you’re about ninety-nine percent sure he was wearing the exact same thing at the last house party you both attended. But now—with a bloodied zombie still twitching at your feet and the imminent threat of even more coming after you—probably isn’t the best time to bring that up.

“It is you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, his eyes widening. “Are you alone?”

You nod. “Yeah. You?”

Jungkook nods back. “Yeah. You’re the first person I’ve come across who hasn’t—well… you know.” He gestures downward vaguely.

“Yeah. I know.”

For a few seconds, the two of you stand in silence, ruminating on how everything managed to change so quickly. Just last week, you and Jungkook were regular college students. He ran track and and co-captained the campus dance crew, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were lab partners, you aren’t sure you ever would have met. But after months of sitting together in class, equally stumped by the biology textbooks you were forced to buy and elbow-deep in formaldehyde far too often for your liking, you’ve grown to consider him a friend. And right now, you really, really needed a friend.

“Jungkook,” you begin, laying an arm on his shoulder, “I need your help.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he says, shaking his shaggy hair out of his face like a dog and glancing around the hallway. “We should team up. I mean, we’ve been lab partners for months so we already know we work great togethe—“

“We’ve failed almost half of our lab reports, and you nearly set the table on fire last Tuesday,” you cut in. “But that’s not the point. The point is the current state of my bladder and how you can help me with it.”

Jungkook blinks. “Uh.”

“I need to pee,” you clarify.

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that?”

“Come with me,” you reply, grabbing his wrist. Jungkook lets out a protesting grunt when you begin pulling him down the hallway toward the restrooms, struggling even more vigorously when you try to make him follow you inside.

“This is the girl’s bathroom!” he gasps, wrenching out of your grasp.

You stare at him. “The entire city is overrun by zombies and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“It’s weird!” he protests. Nevertheless, he trots in on your heels, peering around curiously as you bang on the wall of the nearest stall in an attempt to draw any lurkers out into the open.

“Check for zombies, idiot,” you instruct when Jungkook gets distracted by his own reflection in the mirror. “I don’t wanna get eaten.”

He huffs but complies nonetheless. Raising his broken wine bottle, he glances into each stall, kicking open the doors with unnecessary force. “Clear,” he reports once he’s checked the last one, offering you a mock salute. The effect is ruined by the bright red boxing glove still on his hand, but you bite back the snide remark on your tongue and instead walk into the nearest stall.

“Plug your ears or something,” you tell him as you lock the door. “I don’t want you listening to me pee.”

“Why the hell would I listen?” Jungkook retorts, sounding thoroughly horrified.

“Some people are into that,” you reply, wagging a finger at him despite the fact that he can’t see you through the closed door. “It’s called urolagnia. Don’t kinkshame.”

“I don’t want to know why you know that,” he grumbles under his breath. “Shut up and pee already. I have to go too.”

“But this is the girls’ room,” you snipe, finishing your business and stepping out to wash your hands. Jungkook takes your place inside the stall while you turn on the sink, eyeing his reflection pointedly in the mirror. “You’re gonna get cooties.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha,” he says dryly. “You’re hilarious.”

And then he’s turning around, flipping you the bird before slamming the metal door in your face.

You shrug, unfazed. “I know I am,” you say, addressing your own reflection in the mirror. “Also, do you by any chance own a car?”

///

“This feels like a bad idea,” Jungkook mutters, eyeing the quiet parking lot. It’s nowhere near full, but there are still several dozen cars scattered around, empty and abandoned with no owners to be found. At the far end lies your prize—a black SUV with tinted windows and a bicycle strapped to the roof. “Should we make a run for it?” Jungkook asks. “I mean, we don’t really have any other options if we wanna make it out of here with our brains intact, and—”

“Hang on a sec,” you interrupt, grabbing his arm. “We can create a diversion first. Give me your wine bottle—I’m gonna throw it.”

Jungkook hugs the glass bottle to his chest, eyes round and expression aghast. “And leave myself defenseless? What do you want me to do, punch the zombies away?”

“That’s literally what you did ten minutes ago,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “Do you have a better idea?”

He pauses for a long moment before a resigned sigh leaves his lips. “Fine. I get to throw it, though.”

“Whatever,” you reply, waving a hand at him. “Knock yourself out. Or them. You should really knock them out, on second thought.”

Jungkook wisely chooses to ignore your rambling, hefting the bottle and testing its weight. Rearing back, he tosses it in a perfect arc, and you watch in fascination as it somersaults through the air before crashing down onto the asphalt in an explosion of shattered glass. “There!” you hiss urgently, tugging on Jungkook’s sleeve when a zombie immediately lumbers out from behind a nearby sedan, searching for the source of the noise. “We run on three, got it?”

“Got it,” he whispers back, watching raptly as several more zombies follow the first. “One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Together, you make a mad dash for the SUV. Jungkook gets there first, skidding to a stop and trying the driver’s side door only to find it locked. “I’ll check the other side,” you tell him, glancing around to make sure the zombies are still distracted. “Work on breaking a window or something, fast!”

The sound of a throat being cleared stops you dead in your tracks. “You’ll do no such thing,” a low voice drawls. A moment later, the platinum blond head of Min Yoongi—a reclusive senior you only know because he deejays at your favorite club every Friday night— pops out from behind the hood of the car, his dark eyes narrowed at you accusingly. “We got dibs on this one.”

“Yoongi?” you ask in surprise. “What are you—wait. We? Who’s we?”

“I’m we,” a new voice announces—one that you’re very, very familiar with. Kim Namjoon steps into view behind Yoongi, and you aren’t sure whether to be horrified or thrilled to see your philosophy TA alive and well, with what looks like a metal fence pole perched on his shoulder like a bayonet. “Hey, {Name},” Namjoon says, offering you a small smile. “Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“N-Namjoon,” you stammer, your heart skipping a beat and racing to catch back up. “You’re… okay.”

“More or less,” the tall man replies agreeably, shrugging. Then he glances toward his blond companion, raising a quizzical brow. “Come on, Yoongi. We’ve got room for two more, don’t we?”

Yoongi grumbles something under his breath that sounds like acquiescence, and Namjoon grins, patting him on the back. “Welcome aboard,” he says, turning back to face you and Jungkook. “We’ve got to move fast. You’re Jeon Jungkook, right? I’ve seen you around the track field. Can you do me a favor and watch my back while I open this door?”

Jungkook nods, accepting Namjoon’s brief handshake and the metal pole he hands over. Namjoon then pulls a wire coat hanger out of his jacket pocket, and you watch, awestruck, as he jimmies the car door open.

“There aren’t any keys,” Jungkook points out, peering over the taller man’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the ignition. “Now what? Does anyone know how to hotwire a car?”

“Yes,” Namjoon and Yoongi say simultaneously.

“Well, only in theory,” Namjoon adds when Yoongi rolls his eyes and brushes past him to duck underneath the steering wheel. “Yoongi’s the real expert here.”

“That makes me sound like a criminal,” the blond man grumbles as he sets his toolbox on the ground and gets to work. “For the record, I only know how to do this because of all the times my keys have gone missing. I’m not the fucking Pontiac Bandit.”

“Sounds exactly like what the fucking Pontiac Bandit would say,” you and Jungkook say at the same time, high-fiving each other.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “This isn’t even a Pontiac,” he grumbles, hissing through his teeth as he pulls a few wires free and begins fiddling with them. “Quit watching me and make yourselves useful. Go check the trunk for supplies, or something. Christ.”

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, eyeing the surrounding cars. “That’s actually a good idea. There might be something useful in some of these other cars too. {Name}, why don’t you come with me? Jungkook should probably stay here and keep watch.”

Your mouth goes dry at his suggestion, but you nod hurriedly before your brain can short-circuit at the sound of your name leaving his lips so casually. “That… yeah. That sounds good. Let’s do that.”

“Good luck!” Jungkook calls cheerily as you walk off, earning himself a hard kick in the shins from Yoongi, who’s still flat on his back on the floor of the car.

“Dude, shut the fuck up! Do you want to die?”

Jungkook looks properly abashed. “Right,” he says, lowering his voice. “My bad.”

To your left, Namjoon muffles his laugh behind his hand. Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, and you grin, waving at the two before departing with Namjoon. Together, you wander deeper back into the maze of abandoned vehicles scattered around the lot, peering inside for anything that might be useful. Stopping at a sedan with open windows, you slip a hand inside and unlock the door. There’s an unopened bottle of soda in the cupholder, and Namjoon smiles as he reaches into the backseat and pulls out a few grocery bags.

“Try popping the trunk,” he suggests.

“On it,” you reply, searching for the right button. Namjoon walks around back to open the lid, grinning triumphantly when he sees what’s inside.

“More groceries,” he says, hefting another bag. “And half a case of bottled water. This should be enough to get us started.” Beckoning for you to join him, he hands over the three bags before hefting the case of water over one shoulder. “You okay? I can take a bag if you want.”

You shake your head, threading your baseball bat through the handles of each bag and hefting it onto your shoulder. “I’m fine. Thanks, though,” you tell him, trying to ignore the way your heart rate picks up when he gives you a look of approval, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth and dimpling his cheeks.

“So,” you begin as the two of you start trekking back toward the SUV, “where are we headed, anyway? It seems like you and Yoongi have a plan.”

Namjoon nods. “We do. There’s a reported quarantine zone up north—it’s all over Twitter.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out his cellphone, along with a massive battery pack. “I’ve been conserving my phone battery as much as I can, keeping track of any news, and I think it’s our best bet.”

“Smart.” Ruefully, you pull out your own device and show him the black screen. “My phone died ages ago.”

“You still might be able to charge it,” Namjoon points out. “The electrical grids haven’t gone down yet. And I know Yoongi’s got a cord back at the car, so we can charge our devices on the road too. He’s got all sorts of stuff—this battery pack is his, actually. I couldn’t find mine.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” you mutter, thinking back to every time he’s misplaced his laser pointer or lecture notes during class.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. Off in the distance, you spot a few zombies shambling along, no doubt searching for their next meal. Silently, you and Namjoon begin walking faster.

Yoongi and Jungkook are both seated inside the car by the time you return. Jungkook hops out to help you load the bags, and you shoot him a grateful grin as you climb into the backseat alongside him. Namjoon takes the passenger seat, kindly plugging in your phone while Yoongi adjusts his mirrors with a frown. “The engine’s gonna draw their attention,” he says. “They probably won’t be able to get us in the car, but hang onto your weapons just in case.” Then he pauses, glancing back at the metal pole in Jungkook’s hands and the wooden bat in yours. “Well. We’ll need to make a stop and get actual weapons.”

“We can try the police station,” Namjoon suggests. “I’m sure others will have had the same idea, but it’s really our only option. Then we’ll have to load up on food, water, and gas.”

Curiously, you peer into the grocery bags sitting on the floor between you and Jungkook. “Most of this stuff’s perishable. We’ll need to get non-perishable stuff if we’re going to be on the road for a long time. How far did you say that quarantined zone is, Namjoon?”

“I didn’t. I’m not actually one-hundred percent sure myself. Social media is a mess, as you might imagine.” Turning around in his seat, Namjoon shows you his Twitter feed—conflicting news alerts interspersed with grisly photos of the destroyed city and panicked requests for aid. “The last emergency alert said that the military base just outside of city limits is safe, but I’m not so sure.” He scrolls down, revealing several videos of zombies staggering around a helicopter, and upon closer inspection, you realize that they’re in full military garb. Horrified, you take his phone to get a closer look, thumbing down the page to reveal even more atrocities.

“Shit,” Jungkook breathes, sidling over to look over your shoulder. “That’s not good.”

Yoongi sighs, eyeing both of you in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, no kidding. The only thing we’re sure about so far is that the infection started in the south, so heading north is our best bet. And hopefully, we’ll find—”

THWUMP!

Namjoon’s phone clatters out of your hands as the parked car suddenly tilts, swaying dangerously to the left before all four wheels return to the asphalt once more. Horrified, you stare at the huddled horde of zombies that has suddenly appeared at your window, bloodstained hands trying in vain to reach you through the glass. “Yoongi, I think you need to drive now!” you shout, wincing as they begin thumping on the window in earnest.

The blond man curses when the car rocks again, his eyes flickering between the dashboard and the zombies swarming on Namjoon’s side of the car. “Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfu—HA!”

The engine roars to life, and you watch as the zombies closest to you flinch at the sudden noise before renewing their efforts, banging on the window until spiderwebbing cracks begin to form.

“Dude, floor it!” Jungkook yells.

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice. The car lurches forward, tires squealing, and you yelp as you’re slammed back against the seat. Instinctively, you fumble for your seat belt, ignoring the stunned look Jungkook shoots you in favor of buckling yourself in and watching the undead horde recede in the distance as you pull farther and farther away. “Holy shit,” you mutter, your head falling back against the backrest, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Holy fucking shit.”

Yoongi huffs out a sardonic chuckle as he slows ever so slightly to turn onto the main road. “Yeah. Welcome to the apocalypse.”

///

It’s odd, seeing the city you know and love in ruins. Billowing black smoke rises in the distance, filling the air with an acrid stench and a metallic tinge that you don’t want to think about. The roar of the SUV’s engine sounds like a siren’s song in the eerie silence of the streets, drawing unwanted attention from the undead. Everywhere you look, soulless eyes follow. Some zombies even try to chase the car, but they are quickly left behind as Yoongi slams down on the gas pedal, weaving past overturned vehicles and prone bodies.

You don’t wait to see if any of the bodies will rise up again.

Namjoon begins fiddling with the radio as Yoongi turns down yet another street, heading downtown. Static blares from the speakers, and you watch his frown get deeper the further along he scrolls through the stations. “Nothing,” he mutters after a few long minutes. “That’s not a good sign. The infrastructure is crumbling.”

Jungkook tears his gaze from the window. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon switches off the radio, letting silence envelop the car for a few seconds before speaking again. “I mean everything that sustains our way of life—the things we take for granted most days, like running water and electricity and the internet. We aren’t going to have them for much longer. Without workers to run things, we…” He sighs. “I figure we have maybe a week, at the most.”

“And then what happens?” you ask, your voice soft.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon admits. “To be honest, we might not even survive long enough to find out.”

“But we have to try,” you murmur. “Sure, we’re outnumbered and weaponless, but we have a car. We’re faster and smarter. I don’t think things are hopeless just yet.”

Namjoon shakes his head at your optimism, but Yoongi’s nodding, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t mind him,” he advises. “Joon likes to overthink things and work himself up into a frenzy, but I think we’ve got a chance at making it through. Besides...” He gestures out the window with his thumb. “We won’t be weaponless for much longer.”

The car rolls to a stop in front of a square brick building that you recognize as the police station, the dark windows overlooking the street like gaping mouths. Most of the glass is broken—even on the higher stories—and you shiver at the sight of the jagged edges glinting like teeth in the wan afternoon sun.

“So... getting inside won’t be a problem,” Jungkook says dryly.

“Guess not,” Namjoon says, frowning. “Somebody definitely beat us here. Should we chance it? Everything could already be gone.”

“We’re already here, man,” Yoongi drawls, already beginning to open the door. “We may as well check it out.”

Cautiously, the four of you pile out of the SUV, eyes darting left and right as you make your way toward the front door with Jungkook in the lead. It’s hanging off its hinges and the glass is pocked with bullet holes, and a frown spreads across your face as you trace one lightly with your index finger. “Looks like there was a fight,” you murmur quietly to Namjoon, who’s standing just behind you with a rather large rock that he must have just picked up from outside. Yoongi takes up the rear with a hammer grasped tightly in his hand, and you bite back the Thor joke that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here anymore, though,” Jungkook says, winding his way farther into the lobby. “Think these elevators still work?” he asks, gesturing at the twin metal doors on the far wall.

“Not worth the risk,” Namjoon decides, walking over to the stairwell and opening the door. He peers inside before gesturing for you to enter, allowing everyone to step past him before quietly shutting the door and eyeing the two sets of stairs branching out from the landing. “We’re looking for the station’s armory,” he whispers. “What do you guys think? Up or down?”

“We could split u—” Jungkook begins to suggest, but you cut him off before he can even finish the sentence.

“And get killed off one by one like in every horror movie ever? Are you serious, Jeon?”

Jungkook blinks. “Fine. What do you think, then?”

“I think the parking garage is probably downstairs,” you muse, peering over the railing to look at the lower landing. “And it doesn’t look like there’s another level below that, so I’d say going up is our best bet.”

A smile curls the corner of Namjoon’s mouth, dimpling one cheek as he follows your lead and glances downstairs. “Nice observation,” he says once he’s straightened up again, laying a hand on your shoulder. The gentle pressure sends a shiver up your spine, a butterfly taking flight in your stomach on fluttering, iridescent wings. It’s all you can do to smile back, thanking him softly as he retracts his hand. Already, you miss the warmth of his palm.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, effectively ruining the moment as he begins the ascent with his pole at the ready. Yoongi follows, and Namjoon gestures for you to go ahead of him, tucking his rock under one arm.

“It’s not the best weapon,” he says when he catches you looking, a rueful chuckle escaping him.

You grin back. “Better than nothing.”

Up ahead, Jungkook stops on the second floor landing, pressing his ear against the door. “I can’t hear anything,” he grumbles, fumbling for the doorknob and cracking the door open. “But it looks like the coast is cle— oh, shit!” Jungkook pulls the door shut again, his eyes wide.

“What happened?” Yoongi hisses. “What did you see?”

“There’s a bunch of them in the corner,” Jungkook whispers. “They’re… eating something.”

“Someone,” Yoongi corrects wryly, earning himself an elbow in the ribs courtesy of Namjoon. “Sorry,” he mutters, not sounding very sorry at all.

“How many are there?” Namjoon asks.

Jungkook pauses, casting his gaze upward as he does a mental tally. “At least seven or eight that I saw. There could be more though.”

“Did you see anything that could’ve been an armory? Some place where weapons would be stored?” Namjoon presses.

“Nah. Looked like a bunch of desks, mostly. Offices and whatnot.”

Namjoon nods slowly, tapping his chin. “Okay,” he says after a few seconds of deliberation. “Let’s keep going.” He takes the lead this time, stepping past Jungkook to the next staircase, and you follow after him, struggling to keep up when he elects to take the steps two at a time. His long legs span the increased distance with ease, and it takes every ounce of self-control you possess to refrain from staring at his flexing thigh muscles.

One flight of stairs and several instances of shameless ogling later, you find yourselves on the third floor, tiptoeing through a darkened hallway lined with doors and peering inside one by one.

“These all look like interrogation rooms,” Yoongi grumbles after a few fruitless minutes.

“Nope, this one’s a closet,” Jungkook pipes up, walking inside and exiting with a mop. The door slams shut behind him, and he winces under the absolutely withering glare Namjoon shoots at him. “My bad,” he whispers, offering the taller man the mop. “But on the bright side, I think this might be a better weapon than a rock.”

Namjoon sighs and accepts the mop. “Fine. Let’s make the rest of this search quick though. And be quiet,” he adds, with a pointed look at Jungkook. “We might be close to where the weapons are kept now, since we’ve left the administrative areas behind.”

And as it turns out, he’s right. The very next door you open is a room with a multitude of industrial shelves and racks lining the walls. Much to your disappointment, most of them are empty, but a more thorough search turns up a couple of handguns along with several cases of ammunition. Jungkook finds a stockpile of smoke grenades that he refuses to part with, and you roll your eyes as he shoves them into his pockets. “What the hell are smoke grenades going to do against zombies?”

“You never know,” Jungkook retorts. “Besides, I don’t see anything else in here. Do you?”

Dejected, you shake your head. “No, I don’t. Guess Namjoon was right—someone had the same idea as us.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Namjoon says, picking up one of the guns and peering closely at it. “Who here knows how to handle a firearm?”

Yoongi grunts. “My uncle used to take us hunting on camping trips. I’m not a great shot, but I’m all right.”

Namjoon glances over at you Jungkook. “What about you guys? No?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Do shooting games count?”

“No.”

“Okay, then no.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the other gun to Yoongi, who accepts it and checks the safety before tucking it safely into his belt. You watch as Namjoon checks his own gun, unloading the magazine and inserting a new one. “I take it you know a thing or two about guns,” you remark, inching closer to him as he engages the safety with deft fingers.

“My grandfather was a cop,” he replies softly. “He taught me a lot before he passed away.”

You bite your lip as his brow furrows, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs, his gaze sliding up to meet yours. “It’s alright. It happened years ago.” Then he glances down at your hand, his expression softening just the tiniest bit. “But I appreciate it. Thanks.”

The next few minutes pass in silence as the four of you complete your sweep of the room, peering at the bottommost shelves for any equipment you might have missed. “Hey,” Yoongi says suddenly, his voice hushed. “Hand me your bat, {Name}.”

Both you and Namjoon turn to face him. “Why?” you ask curiously, handing it over and watching as he lays it on the table and pulls his hammer from his waistband.

“Nails,” he says shortly. “Found some in that drawer and figured I’d make you a proper apocalypse weapon.”

“Wait,” Namjoon interrupts, striding over as Yoongi begins hammering nails into your wooden bat. “You’re making too much noise. Someone’s going to hear us.”

“Uh, it’s kinda already too late for that,” Jungkook hisses from the entrance. He’s peering through a little square window that sits about two-thirds of the way up the door, and flinches when a bloody, pale fist slams against it, splintering the glass. “We’ve got company, guys,” he grunts, pressing his full weight against the door and wincing as the glass shatters over his head. “Anyone got any bright ideas to get us out of here in one piece?”

“No,” Namjoon says slowly. “Unless…”

“Unless?” you press.

“We need a diversion,” he says, shaking his head. “But I don’t see how we’ll create one unless… well, unless one of us goes out there and leads them away from here. But that’s asking way too much, and—“

“I’ll do it.”

All three of you whirl around to face Yoongi, who looks thoroughly unfazed by the sudden scrutiny, picking idly at a frayed corner on his jacket. “You can’t be serious,” Namjoon says, finding his voice first. “It’s dangerous.”

“So is staying here,” Yoongi replies. “Besides, aren’t you always going on about the greater good? Altruism and Comte and all that shit? Let me do this, man. I can handle it.”

“That’s not—” Namjoon stops, rubbing the bridge of his nose and letting out a heavy sigh. “That’s not the point. It’s just not practical, Yoongi. You’ll be vulnerable if you’re alone.”

“No, I’ll be fast,” Yoongi corrects, pulling out his gun and clicking off the safety. “You think we’ll do any better as groups of two? I don’t.”

“But—“ Namjoon tries again, his brow creasing, but Yoongi shakes his head and strides to the door.

“I’m gonna go left,” he says, his hand on the handle. “We came from the right, so you guys should be able to retrace our steps and get out.”

Jungkook stops him before he can exit, pressing a handful of smoke grenades into his palm. “Hang on,” he says, his throat tight. “You might need these.”

Yoongi pockets them, nodding. “Thanks, man.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue some more, but finally bites his lip and nods, his face resolute. “Good luck,” he says after a long, heavy pause. “Stay safe.”

Yoongi flashes you all a crooked grin. “See you soon.”

And then he’s flinging open the door, swinging his hammer into one zombie’s skull and kicking another in the knees. Namjoon stays in the doorway, shooting any and every zombie that he can see through the smashed window. You can just barely hear Yoongi jeering insults over the sound of gunfire and stumbling footsteps, the occasional thud of something heavy against the linoleum floor letting you know that Namjoon has successfully found his mark.

After what feels like an eternity, Namjoon finally pulls back from the window and turns back to you and Jungkook. “Coast is clear,” he whispers. “Let’s go.”

“And Yoongi?” you ask, anxiety roiling in your gut at the thought of the blond man facing the horde of undead alone.

“He’ll be fine,” Namjoon says automatically, and you know he’s trying to convince himself just as much as he’s reassuring you. His grip is tight on his gun as he wrenches open the door and ushers the two of you out into the hallway, and even in the dimness you see the worried glance he shoots over his shoulder, lingering on the corner that Yoongi has disappeared around.

“Come on, Joon,” you murmur, nudging his arm gently. “Yoongi’s gonna beat us back to the car at the rate we’re going.”

That draws a soft chuckle from your companion. “You’re right,” he murmurs back. “Let’s go.”

///

As it turns out, however, Yoongi does not beat you back to the SUV. The blond-haired man is nowhere to be found, and you see concern etch itself permanently onto Namjoon’s forehead as he peers around the eerily quiet street. The air feels too still, and every crunch of gravel from underneath your sneakers sounds like a gunshot.

“He’ll be back, right?” Jungkook whispers urgently to you while Namjoon is out of earshot, his doe eyes wide and beseeching. “You don’t think he got…”

He trails off, and you shake your head, unwilling to even think of the possibility that harm has befallen the blond-haired man. “Yoongi’s tough,” you declare. “He’ll be back any minute, and we should be ready to take off when he does. In case, you know, he’s still being chased.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, glancing over at Namjoon, who’s standing closest to the driver’s side and is suddenly beginning to look very sheepish.

“So… I can’t actually drive,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as your jaw drops.

“Wait, you can’t drive? Don’t you live off-campus? How do you get to class?”

Namjoon shrugs. “I usually bike. Sometimes I walk to class, if the weather’s nice.” Then he pauses, dejection settling on his features. “Although I guess I won’t be teaching classes again any time soon.”

Your heart sinks. You know from the syllabus that he handed out on the first day that this was his first semester as a teaching assistant, his passion for philosophy shining through in every lecture he’s given. “You’re a great teacher,” you tell him, intent on cheering him up. “I learned so much from you. I mean, nobody likes moral philosophy, but you somehow managed to even make that interesting, which is pretty damn incredible.”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Thanks. You were a pretty damn incredible student, yourself.”

“Why, thank you,” you tell him with a grin.

Beside you, Jungkook rolls his eyes and pretends to retch. “Fine, I guess I’ll drive.” Grumbling, he swings open the driver’s side door and plops down onto the seat, adjusting it for his longer legs. “Now how the hell do I start this thing?”

Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly and tears his gaze away from yours, reaching underneath the steering wheel and pulling out a tangle of wires. You stop listening as he explains to Jungkook how to spark them together and instead turn your gaze back to the looming police station, watching intently for any sign of Yoongi’s return. Crumpled newspapers and stray plastic bags roll by, buoyed by the spring breeze. Across the street, a lone pigeon roams, head bobbing as it searches for crumbs.

“Looking for me?”

You jump, letting out a surprised shriek as Yoongi’s blond head of hair suddenly pops out from behind the trunk. “Jesus Christ, Yoongi, what the hell? Where did you come from?”

“Originally? My mother’s womb,” he replies, shrugging. The movement draws your attention to the sleeves of his jacket, newly tattered and splattered with crimson, and any witty retort you might have had is immediately swallowed up by concern.

“Is that blood? Oh my god, is that your blood?”

Your shout alerts Namjoon and Jungkook, twin looks of concern marring their faces as they clamber out of the SUV and join the two of you. “No, no—I’m not hurt,” Yoongi reassures, dismissing your worries with a wave of his hand. “Things did get a little dicey, but it all worked out in the end.”

“How exactly did you escape?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi grins crookedly. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

Jungkook blinks. “What?”

“If I couldn’t beat them, I had to join them,” Yoongi elaborates, gesturing to his tattered, dirty clothing. “I stumbled across the evidence room while I was trying to find another way out, and got an idea. This—” he gestures at the red stains splattered across his clothing, “—is actually spray paint. The police must’ve confiscated it from graffiti artists or something. Then all I had to do was rip up my jacket and limp a little and, well, here we are.”

“And that worked?” you ask in disbelief. “You just… pretended to be a zombie and walked out?”

“More or less,” Yoongi says with another shrug. “Now come on, let’s blow this joint. They could find us any second, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really wanna die just yet. Pretending was enough.”

You have about a million more questions, but Yoongi takes his spot in the driver’s seat before you can ask any of them, readjusting the seat and promising an inquisitive Jungkook that he’ll teach him how to drive the hotwired vehicle next time. The rest of you take your seats as the engine roars to life underneath the blond man’s skilled fingertips, and with a squeal of tires against asphalt, you are off once again, heading toward the great unknown.

///

“Wait, wait, no, stop!”

Yoongi slams on the brakes at Jungkook’s shout, the car skidding to an abrupt halt. “What is it?” he demands, his gaze darting around frantically as his fingers reach for his gun. “Is there a problem?”

Jungkook winces. “Sorry. I was talking to Namjoon, actually.”

Yoongi visibly relaxes, shaking his head as he resumes driving. Namjoon glances back at Jungkook, his eyebrows disappearing behind his dark hair in silent inquiry. “Yes?”

“The radio,” Jungkook says, gesturing at the dashboard buttons that Namjoon has been fiddling with incessantly for the last several minutes. “Go back to the last station for a sec.”

Obediently, Namjoon turns the dial. Staticky white noise fills the air, and Jungkook frowns. Then a few jumbled words filter through the static, and he lets out a triumphant shout. “There!”

“Huh,” Namjoon says, leaning closer to the speaker. “I can’t understand a thing they’re saying. We must be out of range.”

“But we must be getting closer—I think I can make out a few words,” Jungkook says. “Everyone shut up and let me listen…” He trails off, and for a few moments, there is only the sound of garbled static and the low whir of the tires against pavement. Then Jungkook flops back against the seat, a pensive frown settling on his face. “Huh.”

You nudge his shoulder. “Well? What did you hear?”

“Not a whole lot,” he admits. “And I can’t be sure that what I heard was right, but… I think the broadcast is coming from Sonyeo City.”

Namjoon purses his lips, his chin jutting out in the way it does whenever he’s deep in thought. “Sonyeo City… that’s about six hours away, isn’t it?”

Yoongi hums. “Yeah, just about.”

“Do you think…” you trail off, hesitant. “Do you think that this means Sonyeo City’s… safe?”

“There’s no way to be sure.” Namjoon casts his gaze out the window, and you get the feeling he’s looking far beyond the crumbling streets and dark buildings, to the horizon where there still may be a glimmer of hope. “But at least we now have a destination in mind.”

The rest of the ride is quiet. Namjoon keeps the radio on just in case another snippet of discernible audio comes through, but none of you manage to catch anything important. Yoongi stops at a gas station to refuel, and a few minutes after that, finally manages to find a grocery store that looks to be mostly intact and devoid of any immediate threats.

“Let’s get this bread,” Jungkook proclaims as he slides out of the backseat, walking toward the entrance of the store. “And by bread, I mean Twinkies.”

You gape at his retreating back. “Is that a Zombieland reference?”

“Maybe,” he replies, shooting you a playful grin over his shoulder.

Shaking your head, you follow him through the automatic doors and glance around the interior of the store. Row after row of shelves take up the majority of the room, with an open space on the far right for fresh produce and glass-paneled refrigerators lining the wall. Behind you, the doors slide open again with a whoosh, and you turn to meet Namjoon’s eyes as he steps inside with Yoongi. “We should lock the doors,” you point out.

“You’re right,” Namjoon agrees, inspecting the metal frame surrounding the glass.

“Hang on,” Jungkook interrupts, eyes wide as he watches Namjoon fumble with the mechanism. “Are you locking us in?”

“For the time being,” Namjoon says absentmindedly, still focused on the door.

You walk over to Jungkook and pat his cheek. “He’s not locking us in; he’s locking them out. Or would you rather have a horde of zombies stumble in while we’re grabbing supplies?”

“... fair point.”

“Exactly.”

Yoongi, meanwhile, is gazing around the store, leery as always. “Hello?” he calls, his voice cutting through the silence. “Anyone home?”

Not even two seconds later, a shambling, shuffling figure emerges from a far aisle, moving surprisingly quickly despite its odd, lopsided gait. Two more follow, and Yoongi raises his gun, clicking off the safety and narrowing his eyes.

Toward the other end of the store, you spot another zombie dragging itself along the floor, leaving a trail of streaky, bloody handprints in its wake. Three more shuffle out from behind a display of watermelons, heading toward you, and you tighten your grip on your nail-studded bat as they draw ever closer.

Shots ring out behind you, but you don’t chance a glance backward. Out of your peripheral vision you spot Jungkook on your left, bringing his metal pole down onto the crawling zombie’s head with a sickening crunch. Leaping into action, you swing at the closest zombie’s head. It was once a woman, you notice—long stringy hair falling around her decaying face, the bottom half of her jaw visible through the peeling skin. “Sorry about this,” you say, wincing as your bat makes impact. The nails catch in her skin, her neck cracking under the force of the blow, and you yelp as she falls over and the other two zombies take her place.

“Watch out!”

Namjoon’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you, and you instinctively duck as he sprints over and shoots one point blank. Jungkook takes out the other, driving the pole through its chest before pulling it out and smashing it over the zombie’s head. “Are there more?” he asks, slightly out of breath.

“Not sure,” Yoongi says, rejoining you. “I would think most of the lurkers were drawn out by all the noise.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Namjoon says. Walking over to a checkout lane, he grabs a pile of plastic bags and an abandoned cart. “Let’s stay together and take the aisles one at a time. We’ll take as much as we can carry.”

“Don’t forget bottled water,” you pipe up, pointing at the stack of water bottles piled next to the door. “We’ve already drank most of what we have. And if we’re getting canned food, we’ll need a can opener too.”

Namjoon follows the direction of your finger. “Good call.”

“I’ll get it,” Jungkook volunteers, jogging over to select a twenty-four pack of bottles and heaving it into the cart. “Now what?”

“Let’s grab the can opener first,” you say. “Maybe some other utensils too. Sound good?”

Namjoon nods. “Sounds great,” he says, handing you one of the bags. Jungkook and Yoongi accept the other bags that Namjoon doles out, and together the four of you head farther into the store, scanning the signs until you come across the one labeled household goods. It’s clear that others have been here before you, but a quick raid of the shelves yields two can openers and a set of silverware, all of which you deposit into your bag. Namjoon grabs four unbroken bowls, mismatched and in varying sizes, and you hold out your bag for him to drop them inside.

Next up is the canned food aisle, where you stock up on various vegetables and far more beans than you care to think about. Jungkook grabs a box of instant coffee, and Yoongi disappears for a few seconds and returns with a massive jar of vitamin supplements. “Gotta stay healthy,” he says in response to your raised eyebrows, adding it to the growing pile in Namjoon’s cart.

“Speaking of healthy, we should grab some produce,” you say. “It won’t stay good forever, but we can at least get some apples and oranges. And we should probably grab some stuff for dinner too. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.”

As if on cue, Namjoon’s stomach rumbles. “Dinner would be nice,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Let’s finish up here and then eat in the car. We probably don’t want to stick around here for much longer than we have to.”

After some discussion, the four of you decide on sandwiches for dinner and set about gathering the necessary ingredients. Yoongi wanders to the deli area to pick out a selection of meats that haven’t yet spoiled, and even manages to locate some cheese. You peruse the produce, selecting a head of lettuce and several ripe tomatoes while Namjoon fills a bag with apples and grabs a bunch of bananas. Jungkook raids the bread display, shoving two whole loaves and a box of dinner rolls into his bag. Several bags of chips and a pack of juice boxes later, you are ready to go, heading back out into the parking lot where the SUV is parked.

“Wait!” Jungkook suddenly yelps, stopping dead in the middle of loading the trunk. “I forgot my Twinkies!”

“Are you serious right now, Jeon?” you hiss, watching in disbelief as he hurriedly drops his bags and turns back toward the entrance.

“Yes,” he says stubbornly, already beginning to jog away.

Yoongi groans and flops down into the driver’s seat. “Sartre was right,” he grumbles under his breath. “Hell is other people.”

Namjoon gives him an astonished look, mouth already open and ready to question what exactly his friend knew about the French existentialist philosopher, but quickly snaps back to the issue at hand when you abandon your own bags and dart after Jungkook. Immediately, Namjoon follows, nearly tripping in his efforts to keep up with you, and you whirl in concern when he lets out a sudden, startled shout. “What is it?”

Namjoon grimaces, brushing a stray lock of dark hair off his forehead. “Sorry, it’s just—holy shit!”

A skeletal, gaunt hand is grasping at Namjoon’s ankle, and you gasp when you realize that it belongs to the female zombie from before, her milky eyes gazing unseeingly out from beneath stringy hair. Cursing, Namjoon shakes her off and fumbles for his gun. Pointing it down, he aims and pulls the trigger.

Click.

“I’m out of bullets,” he whispers in dawning horror.

You reach for your trusty bat, tucked away in its sling on your back, but the handle keeps evading your grasping fingers, the nails catching in the fabric. Your palms begin to sweat as Namjoon kicks at the zombie, stomping on her arm and cracking all the bones. He’s glancing around frantically for something he can use as a weapon, but to no avail. And all the while, the undead woman continues her dogged pursuit, crawling after him with one good arm like a lopsided cockroach, teeth gnashing furiously in anticipation of her next meal.

“NOT TODAY, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Jungkook barges onto the scene with his metal pole in hand, glinting dull silver in the flickering fluorescent lights. He smashes the zombie over the head once, twice, three times before relenting, his chest heaving with exertion. Namjoon sucks in a deep breath when she finally falls limp, reaching out to clap Jungkook on the back. “Wow,” he says shakily. “Thanks, man. That was a close call.”

Jungkook straightens up and hefts his weapon over his shoulder. “And that’s why we have rule number two here in Zombieland,” he says proudly.

Namjoon asks the question before you even have a chance to stop him. “What’s rule two?”

Jungkook grins a grin so wide, you’re surprised his mouth doesn’t fall off altogether. “The Double Tap, of course.” Then his gaze flickers downward, to where a familiar blue-and-white box lies crumpled against the linoleum. “Oh, no. My Twinkies!”

You sigh.

///

Dinner—if it can even be called that—is a quick affair, eaten while huddled in the SUV and parked in an alley. The sun is setting rapidly, dipping beyond the horizon and bathing the surrounding buildings in a fiery orange glow. It’s been mercifully quiet for the past half hour, broken only by the occasional crunch of a chip or a slurp from a juice box.

Yoongi starts driving again after he’s polished off the last of his sandwich. Dusky twilight cloaks the city in purple—turning it into something strange and unfamiliar. Normally, the streets would be aglow with lit lamps and illuminated homes, crowded with people returning home after a long day of work or classes. Now, though, the streets are silent and abandoned. The few zombified citizens you pass are quickly left behind, and you know you aren’t imagining the melancholy air that’s settled over your companions, nestling deep into the nooks and crannies of the SUV, stagnant and unshakable. It grows stronger the farther Yoongi drives, the buildings getting shorter and the space between them growing longer, and your heart breaks a little in your chest when you turn for one last look at the city you’ve all come to call home.

You can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you know you won’t ever be coming back.

Namjoon begins fiddling with the radio dials again as Yoongi turns onto the highway, a burst of static breaking the stifling silence in the car. Jungkook startles slightly at the sharp sound, looking up from where he’d been staring out the window. “Is that the station from before?”

Namjoon hums in affirmation, adjusting the volume until the white noise is just a low buzz. Jungkook settles back into his seat, but you can see that he’s listening carefully, his knee bouncing in anticipation.

And then, without any warning whatsoever, a voice comes through the static, clear as day.

Testing, one, two. Is anybody out there?

If you’ve still got a functioning brain and at least one ear, congratulations! another voice chimes in, brighter than the first. You’re listening to 2J! Straight out of Sonyeo City, we’re your premier source of zombie news—

—your only source, really—

—and we’re here to bring you all the latest so that you can stay safe out there, the second voice continues as if there was no interruption at all.

Unfortunately, the first voice says, adopting a more somber tone now, there isn’t a lot of good news. We’re still in the dark about how this epidemic started. Reports claim that it began in a city in the south, which multiple sources have confirmed, but the government has yet to put out an official statement regarding the situation.

They’re being pretty dodgy about the whole thing, to be honest, the second voice continues. The first emergency alert said it was a mutated virus, but the second claimed it was a contaminated water reservoir. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some super-secret experiment gone wrong, Jin.

Honestly, me neither, the man named Jin says. But that’s enough of the conspiracies for now, Jay. Let’s talk survival! First thing you’ll want to do, dear listeners, is head north toward Sonyeo City, where a quarantine zone has been set up.

Jungkook releases a long, pent-up breath. “We were right,” he whispers. “Thank god.”

Namjoon flashes him a little smile and cranks up the volume, listening carefully as Jin’s voice fills the car.

Your best bet is to drive, of course, hop in your car and get going. Stock up on gas and non-perishable food, and some weapons certainly wouldn’t hurt either.

If worst comes to worst and you have to kill a zombie, the best way to do it is to smash its head in, Jay pipes up. You can also break their kneecaps to slow them down, but that won’t kill them for good. They’ll keep coming as long as they can still move—and if they bite you, you’re a goner.

Now onto ways to avoid zombies! Jin says, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. One thing I’ve noticed during my research is how quickly their optic nerves deteriorate once they’re infected. In fact, the rate of deterioration is second only to that of their vocal chords!

And now tell them what that means in plain English, Jay prods, laughing.

Jin chortles. Basically, they have shit eyesight, especially in the dark, he clarifies. If it’s nighttime and you find yourself surrounded somehow, your best bet is to stay quiet and move slowly. If they hear you, well…

You’re a goner, Jay supplies helpfully.

Exactly. Thanks, Jay.

No problem, Jin.

And that brings us to the end of this broadcast, Jin says, clapping his hands. Thanks for tuning in today, and we’ll see you next time.

Until then, this has been 2J. Stay safe out there!

There’s a dull click, and then the static resumes, filling the silence left in the wake of the broadcast. “Well, at least we’re headed in the right direction,” Yoongi says after a few long moments. “It’s a long drive though, and I don’t think I can stay awake for much longer. We might want to start looking for a place to sleep for the night.”

“That’s a good idea,” Namjoon says. “I’m pretty sure we’ve all been running on pure adrenaline up to this point, so we definitely need some rest. We’ll start fresh tomorrow morning.”

Mumbles of agreement all around. Ten minutes later, Jungkook points to a quaint little farmhouse on the right side of the road, the windows dark. “Think anyone’s home?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Yoongi replies, slowly pulling off the road and into the winding driveway, watching for any movement from the house or the surrounding fields. The hum of the engine doesn’t draw any unwanted attention, and you breathe a tentative sigh of relief as he parks the car beneath a large oak tree. Together, the four of you pile out and approach the house, weapons at the ready.

“Should we knock?” you whisper, looking at the little brass knocker in the middle of the front door. “Ring the doorbell, maybe?”

“Can’t hurt, right?” Jungkook jabs his thumb into the button by the doorknob, listening intently as the bell chimes inside the house. After a few beats of silence, he shrugs. “Guess no one’s home.”

“And the door’s locked,” Yoongi says, trying the knob. “Maybe they’re away on vacation or something.” Wandering over to a nearby window, he jimmies the frame, a wry grin crossing his features when it pops open easily. “They should probably invest in better locks, though.”

One by one, you climb through the window. Namjoon is the last one inside, folding his tall frame through the small space, and as soon as both his feet touch carpet, Yoongi shuts the window again and closes the curtains. “Don’t wanna be seen from the street,” he explains as he pulls out his cell phone and taps the flashlight button, illuminating the room in harsh white light. Namjoon does the same, as does Jungkook, and you pull your own phone out as well—now fully charged from the long car ride. A quick sweep of the house reveals that it is indeed empty, and Jungkook whoops when his flashlight falls upon a rifle mounted over the fireplace. Further investigation reveals two more pistols in a cabinet, along with ample ammunition, and Yoongi grins as he loads all three guns and hands one over to you.

“You ever shot one of these before?”

The gun is heavy in your palm. Slowly, you shake your head.

Yoongi glances over at Namjoon slyly. “Why don’t you give her a lesson out back, then?”

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s ears flush pink, his feet scuffing nervously against the carpeted floor before he chances a look at you. The smile that he offers you is warm but hesitant, and when he speaks, his voice is even more so. “Sure,” he says. “I can show you how, if you’d like.”

“I’d really like that,” you tell him, the butterflies erupting in your chest when his smile widens. Together, the two of you head toward the back of the house, taking a detour to the kitchen where Namjoon grabs an armful of empty soda cans. His shoulder brushes against yours as you walk, but neither of you pull away. Even as you step onto the wooden patio that leads into the rest of the yard, you remain side by side, admiring the full moon that hangs bright in the sky, providing just enough illumination to view your surroundings.

“I suppose we should start with the basics,” Namjoon begins, his gaze alighting on a low fence lining the property. Jogging over, he lines the cans up on the wooden beam before returning to your side and gesturing for you to raise the pistol. His fingers skim across yours as he shows you how to disengage the safety, and your heart skips a beat when he explains how to reload once you run out of bullets, his large hands guiding yours through each step.

There’s a damp chill in the evening air, but you don’t even feel it. Namjoon is so close by this point, his chest pressed almost flush against your back as he shows you how to aim. His fingers wrap around your wrist, warm and gentle, and you shiver when he speaks again, his mouth at your ear, his voice rumbling through his chest.

“Ready?”

You nod, almost afraid to breathe as your finger finds the trigger. Namjoon’s grip on your wrist loosens but doesn’t disappear entirely, and you steel yourself for the recoil as you finally pull the trigger. The loud crack has you wincing, but Namjoon is laughing, the sound deep and husky as he urges you to lower the gun.

“Nice shot.”

You turn to look at the fence, now missing one soda can. “Oh, wow,” you breathe. “That was… kind of therapeutic, actually. Can we try again?”

Namjoon grins. “Of course we can.”

///

Ten cans and a box of ammunition later, you and Namjoon find yourselves lounging on the steps of the patio, staring up at the velvety night sky. “I’ve never seen so many stars before,” you murmur, a little awestruck by the sight. “But now that we’re away from the city and all that light pollution… wow. It’s amazing.”

“It’s beautiful,” Namjoon agrees, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long before he collects himself and looks up at the sky once more.

“I wish I knew more constellations,” you say, laughing softly. “I can really only pick out the Big Dipper. And even then, I can only find it about eighty percent of the time.”

“What about the Little Dipper?” Namjoon asks. He scoots a little closer to you, pointing upward. “Do you see that really bright star up above the Big Dipper? That’s Polaris—the north star. It’s the end of the handle.”

You follow the trajectory of his finger curiously, eyes widening when you spot the smaller, but still distinctive, spoon shape. “Oh! Yes, I see it now. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.”

Namjoon chuckles. “I can show you where Orion is too,” he says. “That’s as far as my knowledge of constellations goes, though.”

“You know more than I do,” you reply, smiling up at him. Softly, you lay a hand on his arm. “Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, cheeks dimpling as he gazes down at you. This close, you can see all the stars reflected in his irises, his skin glowing silver under the luminescence of the full moon. And in a sudden surge of boldness, you allow your hand to slide down until it’s laying atop his, your fingers settling in the spaces between his own.

Namjoon glances down at your intertwined hands, his lips twitching with a barely restrained smile. “You know,” he murmurs, his breath visible in the chilly air, “I’ve always kind of liked you.”

You blink at the admission. “Really?”

He huffs out a soft chuckle, his chest rumbling with the sound. “It’s crazy, right? But it’s true. Ever since you sat down in the front row on the first day of my class with a bright pink pen and no laptop… do you know how rare it is to see someone take handwritten notes in this day and age?”

Your cheeks heat up. “You noticed that?”

“I did,” he replies, taking your hand in his and twining your fingers together properly. “Do you remember that essay the professor assigned? It must have been the second or third assignment—the one about moral responsibility in modern society?” At your nod, he smiles and continues. “Yours was the best one I read, hands down.”

“Yeah, he talked about it for three days straight,” a new voice says. Whirling around, you see Yoongi’s head poking out the back door, smirking like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. “He wouldn’t shut up about it. It was annoying as hell.”

Namjoon groans. “Seriously, Yoongi?”

The blond man puts his hands up innocently. “Just stopping by to make sure you guys weren’t dead,” he says before letting the door shut again, chortling to himself.

Namjoon sighs and turns back to you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry about him. He doesn’t have much of a filter.”

You giggle and squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry about it. He’s gone now, so I can finally do this.”

Namjoon tilts his head curiously. “Do wha—?” he begins to say, only to be cut off by your mouth on his. The kiss is soft and slow, your lips moving lazily against his, and by the time you pull away, both of you are breathing much more heavily. Namjoon’s hands find their way around your waist, tugging you close, and you nestle deeper into the warmth of his embrace, enjoying how it wards off the chill in the air.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you know,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek.

He chuckles and chases after your mouth, his nose bumping affectionately against yours. “Yeah. Me too.”

///

You wake up the next morning to golden sunlight streaming in through the window and an arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Namjoon hasn’t opened his eyes yet, his hair sticking every which way, but his grip on you tightens when he feels you begin to stir. “Good morning,” he mumbles, finally cracking an eye open and smiling down at you.

“Good morning,” you whisper back. You’re positive that you look like an absolute mess—hair in disarray, face crusty from sleep, body desperately in need of a shower—and yet Namjoon is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on, dimples dotting his cheeks as he reaches up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. You reciprocate with a kiss to his palm, and he grins. Grabbing your chin, he tilts your face up so he can kiss you properly—his lips soft and gentle against yours. It almost feels like an ordinary morning, and for a few moments, you can pretend that there isn’t a monstrous epidemic running rampant through large swathes of the country. For a few moments, you’re just a girl and a boy, basking in the idyllic haze of each other’s presence.

But then there’s a knock on the door, followed by Yoongi’s low drawl. “Get dressed and come eat, lovebirds. Sooner we get on the road, the better.”

You break apart from Namjoon, giggling when you see the dopey grin stretched across his face. “Why are you looking at me like that, you weirdo?”

His grin only widens, his arms looping around your waist. “It’s just funny,” he says. “Waking up with you, Yoongi yelling at us—this is the first ordinary morning I’ve had in a long time. And I’ve missed it. I’ve missed it a lot.”

“So have I,” you murmur, burying your face into the warm cotton of his t-shirt and allowing yourself one more moment of normalcy before getting out of bed. Walking into the bathroom, you are pleased to discover that the water is still running, and Namjoon even manages to unearth some unused toothbrushes and toothpaste from underneath the sink. The bristles are a little too stiff for your liking and the water has a metallic tinge that refuses to dissipate, but being able to brush your teeth makes a world of difference. There’s a noticeable bounce in your step as you make your way downstairs with Namjoon, and Yoongi and Jungkook pick up on it right away.

“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Yoongi says without looking up from his bowl of dry cereal. “The sex was that good, huh?”

“W-we didn’t…” Namjoon stammers, his cheeks flushing. “That’s not what we—”

You squeeze his hand, stopping his rambling in its tracks. “Let them think what they want,” you advise. “They’re just jealous of your dick game, anyway.”

“Ew,” Jungkook grumbles, throwing an apple at you. “Way too much information, {Name}.”

You shrug, just barely managing to catch the piece of fruit. “You guys brought it up first. Not my fault.”

The remainder of breakfast passes quickly. Yoongi and Jungkook head outside to start loading the car while you and Namjoon scour the house one last time for anything that might be useful, and within the hour, you are back on the road toward Sonyeo City.

“You know, this Jin character sounds like a piece of work,” Yoongi grumbles from the passenger seat for what feels like the millionth time. Jungkook is driving today, which leaves you and Namjoon in the backseat with the eclectic collection of food and weapons you’ve amassed. The four of you are listening to the 2J broadcast again, and after a rather lengthy discussion of zombie evasion techniques, Jin has lapsed into telling the worst dad jokes you’ve ever heard.

What does a vegetarian zombie eat? Graaains!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Yoongi groans.

Morning turns into midday, the sun high in the sky. The road winds on, through green cornfields and grassy plains and the occasional small town. Several times, you spot a zombie or two shambling around aimlessly through the windows, but they’re quickly forgotten as Jungkook slams on the gas pedal. You get the feeling that he’s relishing the lack of an enforced speed limit, and taking full advantage of the empty highway.

It’s late afternoon by the time you arrive on the outskirts of Sonyeo City. Off in the distance, you can see taller skyscrapers rising up, gray and hazy against the horizon, but the area you’re in right now seems to be the warehouse district. Low, squat factories sit on either side of the road and a branching network of railroad tracks weaves throughout, but everything is eerily still and deathly quiet. No smoke rises up from the smokestacks, and you’re pretty sure you spot a train that’s been toppled over onto its side before Jungkook hits the gas again and takes you deeper into the city. The buildings get taller the farther you drive, but you still have yet to see any signs of life besides the occasional bobbing pigeon or scurrying rat.

That all changes when the car rounds the next corner. It looks as if a bomb has gone off in one of the largest brick buildings lining the street, covering the entire block in a layer of rubble. Zombified citizens mill around in the debris, and Jungkook slams on the brakes, his eyes wide with panic.

“Dude, just back up and try another street,” Yoongi says when he doesn’t move. “They haven’t noticed us yet.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jungkook says, his voice shaking. “We’re… we’re low on gas. Like, really, really low.”

Yoongi takes another look outside and blanches. “Are you fucking kidding me? We’ll get killed if we try to refuel now!”

“I’ll—I’ll get us as far away as I can,” Jungkook stammers, throwing the vehicle into reverse and beginning to back away from the mayhem. He clears the corner and continues backward for another two blocks before the car slows to a full stop, a groan escaping his lips. “Fuck.”

Glancing out the window, you see four stray zombies stumbling toward you. “Uh, guys? We have a bit of a problem.”

Namjoon curses and begins digging through the stash of weapons at his feet, pulling out several long knives and an axe you’d taken from the farmhouse. “We don’t stand a chance without a car,” he mutters as he pulls out supplies. “Yoongi, grab the gas. I’ll watch your back while you fill up the tank. Jungkook, be ready to drive at a moment’s notice. {Name}...” He grins, handing you the rifle to join the pistol you already have at your side. “You’re on sniper duty. But save it as a last resort, okay? Gunshots will draw even more attention to us, which is the last thing we need right now.”

“Got it,” you say, accepting the box of ammunition he slides over and ignoring the way your heart begins to pound in your chest. “Stay safe out there, okay?”

Namjoon presses a quick kiss to your mouth, ignoring the disgusted sound Jungkook makes. “I will, don’t worry. Be back soon.” And then he’s hopping out of the car, joining Yoongi at the gas tank and scanning the street for any approaching threats. The four zombies at the end of the street are still a block and a half away, but the distance doesn’t make you feel any better as you watch Namjoon and Yoongi standing out in the open, unprotected. Through the open window, you can hear Yoongi cursing, hands shaking as he opens up the gas can.

Bang!

A young man bursts out of an apartment complex just up the street, the door slamming against the brick wall behind it. Even from a block away, you can see the frantic expression on his face as he dashes outside without taking proper stock of his surroundings. Your mouth opens to shout a warning—beside you, you can see Jungkook about to do the same—but it’s already too late. The zombies are upon him before he can even scream, rotting teeth tearing into his flesh and ripping chunks away until he’s reduced to a huddled mass of blood and viscera on the ground, deathly still and silent.

Then, to your absolute disbelief, the man is crawling to his feet again, his stance lopsided and his expression blank. Half of his jaw has been torn away, exposing teeth, and your stomach squirms at the sight of his fresh wounds still oozing crimson.

“Holy shit!” Jungkook screeches, whirling around to face you with wild eyes. “We need to get out of here!”

“I know, dumbass!” you yell back, craning your head back to check on your other two companions only to nearly jump out of your skin when the door flies open in your face.

“It’s me!” Namjoon shouts, sliding into his seat. Up front, Yoongi is already seated, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “Drive, Jungkook!”

Jungkook lets loose a colorful string of curses and fumbles to start the engine, eyes skittering between the steering wheel and the approaching zombies. “Come on, come on—”

“WAIT!”

All four of you whirl around, searching for the source of the unfamiliar voice. A split second later, a young man with fluffy blond hair pops up in your window, followed quickly by another man with longer, dark brown hair. “Please wait!” the blond man entreaties, wincing when you let out a startled yelp and slam a hand against the glass. “Please!”

“Who the fuck are you?” you gasp.

“My name’s Jimin, and this is Taehyung,” he says, glancing over to where the zombies are rapidly approaching. “You have to take us with you!”

Jungkook chooses that moment to butt in. “What the fuck? No way! How do we know you’re not infected?”

“We’re not!” It’s Taehyung who speaks this time, his voice low but no less urgent than Jimin’s. “Please, you have to believe us.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Yoongi growls. “We don’t know you—you could be trying to kill us, for all we know.”

“Why the hell would we kill you?” Jimin yelps, looking offended by the very idea.

“We’re not zombies, I promise” Taehyung adds, frowning. “No need to be so paranoid.”

“I think a healthy dose of paranoia is a good thing in this situation!” Yoongi snaps.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Namjoon’s pensive expression, his chin jutting out in the way it does when he’s focused. “Joon? You okay?”

His frown deepens. “I think we have to let them in.”

Yoongi balks. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No, seriously. Remember what Jin said in that broadcast—about how quickly an infected person’s vocal chords deteriorate? There’s no way they’d be talking if they were infected. Absolutely none.”

Jimin claps. “Exactly! Now can you please unlock the door?”

You look at Namjoon, who nods. Jungkook groans and Yoongi slaps a hand over his eyes, but you nod back and reach over to flip the switch, the door unlocking with an audible click.

“Thank you so much,” Jimin chants as he piles into the backseat in a mess of limbs. “Thank you. Holy shit, thank you.” Taehyung follows after him, slamming the door shut, and you grunt when Jimin scoots over to give him a little more room and nearly elbows you in the face.

“Careful,” Namjoon cautions, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging until you are practically seated in his lap. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung make themselves comfortable, carefully avoiding the bags of supplies on the floor as Jungkook starts the car.

“Thanks again,” Jimin repeats earnestly once he’s settled in. “I know it must’ve been hard sticking your necks out like that, but we really do appreciate it.”

“Why were you even out in the open like that?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his eyes at Jimin. “Isn’t there supposed to be a quarantine zone somewhere in this godforsaken city?”

Taehyung nods. “Yeah, it’s in the city center, past the river. We were headed there ourselves, but then the explosion happened.”

“You guys must’ve seen it,” Jimin says. “Few blocks back, rocks and garbage everywhere? We think it was a gas leak, but who knows? It totaled our car, and we’ve been on foot ever since.”

Yoongi looks a little abashed. “Sorry to hear that.”

Jimin shrugs and offers him a crooked grin. “It’s all good. We’re still here now, and we’re still alive. That’s really all that matters.”

///

As it turns out, Jimin is a cadet in the local police academy—something you discover when his jacket falls open to reveal an impressive array of weapons strapped to his belt. Taehyung is an art history student, but between his fondness for paintball and his childhood on a farm, you quickly find that he’s almost just as well-versed in marksmanship as Jimin.

In the last ten minutes, however, Taehyung has fallen oddly silent. A glance over at the brown-haired man reveals that he is staring out the window, lost in thought as buildings rush by. Jimin is still chattering about the academy to a very interested Namjoon, but you don’t miss the occasional furtive glance he gives his friend, his brow creasing briefly in concern before he manages to smooth his expression out again.

Up ahead, you catch a glimpse of the river—a ribbon of blue snaking its way through the city. “There’s a big bend in the river, kind of like a horseshoe, right around the downtown area,” Jimin explains. “I think it was some kind of fortress back in the day, before the rest of the city was built around it. Most of the walls are still standing—historical preservation and whatnot—so the only way to get there is by crossing the bridge or going through the tunnel. And I’m like ninety percent sure they’ve already closed the tunnel down.”

“Bridge it is, then,” Yoongi says. “You know how to get us there?”

“Yeah, you take a left at the next light and then—”

“Can we actually stop here for a minute?”

Everyone glances back at Taehyung, who seems to have finally found his voice again. “Stop?” Namjoon asks, a frown etching its way across his face. “Why?”

Taehyung sucks in a deep breath, his gaze darting over to an unassuming brick building on the corner. “It’s just that… that’s where my little sister lives.”

And in an instant, you understand. You understand why he’s been so quiet this entire time, and why he’s been gazing out the window so wistfully. Jungkook steps on the brake, and the car rolls to a slow stop at the curb. “I get it,” he mutters, his fingers tight around the steering wheel. “I’d… I’d want to check too, if it were my brother.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung smiles weakly, mumbling his thanks, and Jimin takes his hand with a reassuring smile. “Come on, Tae. Let’s go get Eonjin.”

“I’ll come too,” Jungkook volunteers, hopping out of the driver’s seat. “You might need the extra help.”

Yoongi sighs and exits the car as well, glancing back at you and Namjoon. “Guess I should stretch my legs too. You two wanna watch the car?

You nod. “We can do that.”

Yoongi nods back and follows the other three men into the building. You watch as they disappear into its dark depths, letting out a soft sigh.

“Do you think they’ll find her?”

Namjoon hums. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I hope so, for Taehyung’s sake. But I really don’t know if they will.”

You sigh again, shifting into a more comfortable position on his lap and letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. His arms tighten around your waist, and you shiver as his warm breath caresses your neck. “I’m glad my parents are overseas on a cruise right now,” you say softly. “They posted photos just yesterday, so I guess that means that whatever this epidemic is, it isn’t a global thing.”

“You’re lucky,” Namjoon mumbles. “I haven’t heard from my parents yet.”

You stiffen in his embrace. “You… you haven’t? Oh my god, Joon, I’m so sorry.”

He tries to shrug off your concern, but you don’t miss the way his throat bobs harshly as he swallows. “It is what it is,” he says after a few seconds. “I’ve heard from my sister, at least. She says she’ll be making her way here in the next day or two.”

“That’s good,” you murmur. You don’t know what else you could possibly say, and Namjoon, luckily, seems to understand.

“Yeah.”

Silence falls over the two of you, then—each of you lost in your own thoughts. Even though you’re so close to your destination now, it still feels far—as if it’s a mirage that will disappear if you so much as breathe the wrong way. You don’t know what awaits you, and for a moment, you’re terrified of the possibilities. But Namjoon’s arms remain wound around you, his presence warm and reassuring even now, and you think to yourself that maybe—just maybe—everything will be all right.

And then Jimin’s banging on your window again, forcibly pulling you out of your stupor. “Guys! Guys! It’s Tae—he’s been bitten!”

A beat passes. His words take a second to register in your brain—Tae, bitten—almost as if they don’t make sense together. It’s a sentence you never wanted to hear, and your limbs suddenly feel like they’ve been submerged in water, slow and heavy and dragging.

Namjoon, however, is up in an instant. “Where is he now?” he asks, throwing the door open and laying a hand on Jimin’s shoulder as he blabbers on. “Is he bleeding? Is he hurt anywhere else?”

“No, no—” Jimin looks close to tears. “It’s just—it all happened so fast. We were in Eonjin’s apartment but she wasn’t home, and then this guy came out of nowhere and—and…” He trails off, gesturing weakly behind him. “Look for yourselves.”

Yoongi and Jungkook stumble their way out of the building, supporting a pale-looking Taehyung between them. Blood drips down his wrist and onto the sidewalk, and the sight of the bright red liquid shakes off any stupor you might have been under. Delving into the backpack full of supplies from the farmhouse, you pull out the first-aid kit, brandishing it in the air as you jump out of the SUV. “He’s losing way too much blood,” you say, pulling out a roll of bandages and a tube of ointment, handing the rest of the kit over to Namjoon. “We have to stop it.”

“This isn’t exactly a safe spot for medical procedures,” Yoongi points out, gesturing around the street with his free hand. “We’re out in the open, totally exposed.”

“Then we’ll get back in the car,” Namjoon says. “We can drive and patch him up at the same time.”

“But he’s infected,” Jungkook whispers. “What happens when he… y’know. Turns?”

None of you have an answer for that. Jimin’s running his hands frantically through his hair, and you can practically see the desperation swimming in his honey brown eyes. “We can’t just leave him behind,” he murmurs. “We can’t.”

“Then we won’t,” you tell him, stepping up to Taehyung and slathering a generous amount of ointment on the bite wound. Then you pull off a short section of bandage, tying it around his upper arm like a tourniquet. “We’re going to get you in the car now, Tae. Is that okay? Can you still walk?”

Taehyung blinks dazedly, his brown eyes taking a few seconds to focus properly on you. “I… I think so. Hang on. Lemme try.”

Namjoon nearly drops the first-aid kit. “Wait, did you just talk?”

Taehyung blinks again, swaying slightly on his feet. “Yes?”

Your eyes widen as realization dawns. “Wait, but infected people can’t talk. Their vocal chords…”

“... deteriorate,” Namjoon finishes for you. “Yeah. So then that begs the question: why can Taehyung still talk?”

For the second time in as many minutes, none of you have an answer. “Tae,” you try again. “How do you feel right now?”

Taehyung’s mouth pulls down into a slow frown. “I feel… slow. A little muddled, I guess? No brain eating urges or anything though, which is nice. Brains probably don’t taste very good.”

“No,” you say, exchanging a glance with your equally flabbergasted companions. “I can’t imagine they would.”

///

Not twenty minutes later, you are driving across the bridge that leads to your final destination. A rather formidable wall with an even more formidable gate stands in your way, and you watch as several guards peer out from over the top, weapons drawn and at the ready.

“Stop right there!” the guard stationed on the ground commands, his gun trained on the SUV. “Get out of the vehicle with your hands up and identify yourselves one by one.”

“My name is Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon says, clambering out with his palms extended. You follow after him, stating your name as well, and the guard directs both of you to stand against the wall, calling for a man named Seokjin to come check your vitals as your companions continue introducing themselves.

A minute later, a smaller door to the right of the gate opens, and out walks a man wearing a white coat and a genial smile. “Sorry about this,” he says, adjusting his stethoscope. “Proper procedure and all that. You can never be too careful, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, pulling the collar of your shirt aside so he can listen to your heartbeat. “This is hardly the worst thing to happen to us in the last few days.”

The young doctor laughs—a high, squeaky sound that reminds you of a windshield wiper. “Touché,” he says, waving Namjoon over so he can listen to his heart as well. “Well, look at that! You both appear to be alive—congratulations! It’s nice to meet you.”

His laughter is contagious, and you can’t help the answering giggle that bubbles up in your chest and escapes into the open air. “Nice to meet you too, Doctor.”

He grimaces, flapping a hand at you. “Please, call me Jin. Everyone does. Doctor makes me sound way too stuffy.”

The sound of the familiar name has your eyebrows flying up into your hairline. You exchange a glance with Namjoon, who looks equally shocked, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he ventures, “Jin? Does that mean you’re one half of the 2J radio broadcast?”

Jin’s face splits into a delighted grin. “It sure does! Were you guys listening to us?”

You nod. “It was the only station we could find. I don’t think we’d be here if it weren’t for you and Jay.”

His grin broadens. “His real name’s Hoseok, actually—I had to talk him into the nickname. Took me ages.” Then his expression sobers. “That’s great to hear about the broadcast, though. Really. We weren’t sure that we were reaching people, but it’s nice to know that we definitely are. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him earnestly.

Jin grins. “You’re welcome,” he says, waving goodbye as he moves on to check on everyone else’s vitals. He makes friendly smalltalk with Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jimin as he listens to their heartbeats, but frowns when he reaches Taehyung, regarding him a little more closely. Jimin looks on anxiously, twisting the hem of his jacket, and you and Namjoon wordlessly sidle closer, ready to defend your friend if the need arose.

“You look a little pale,” Jin says, but his voice isn’t accusatory. “Are you feeling okay?”

Taehyung shrugs vaguely, his eyes unfocused. “I’ve been better.”

Namjoon chooses that moment to step forward, keeping his voice low and guarded. “Jin, you know a lot about the zombies, right?”

Jin nods. “I’ve been conducting research, yeah. It’s slow going though.”

Jimin eyes Jin warily. “What would you say if we told you that one of us was immune to the zombie virus?”

Jin’s mouth falls open, his gaze immediately landing on Taehyung again as he leans closer and stares intently at his pupils. “Immunity? Now that’s interesting,” he mumbles to himself, rubbing his hands together. “That could change everything.”

Taehyung blinks blearily at him. “What are you going on about?”

Jin just laughs. “They’re clear,” he calls to the guard, who nods and returns to the guardhouse. Once he’s gone, Jin claps his hands together and beams. “All right!” he exclaims. “Let’s get you all settled in, shall we?”

“What are you going to do to Tae?” Jimin asks suspiciously, scooting a little closer to his friend.

“Absolutely nothing, if I don’t have his permission,” Jin promises. “But guys, think about it. Someone who’s immune? I could learn so much about what’s causing that immunity if I ran a few tests… maybe even find a cure, eventually. It’s an incredible opportunity.” Upon seeing Jimin’s lingering distrust, however, he stops and laughs again. “But honestly, I won’t do a thing if he doesn’t want me to. Right now, I just want to help you get settled in. All of you need lots of rest and a proper meal. Doctor’s orders, okay?”

Jimin nods. “Fine.”

Up ahead, the gate is slowly beginning to creak open. Jin is welcoming all of you to Sonyeo City, but you barely hear him. Your focus is on Namjoon and Namjoon alone, his presence warm and reassuring as he finds your hand and laces your fingers together. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You suck in a deep, steadying breath and squeeze his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

#namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon scenarios #bts scenarios #bts #kim namjoon #rm #zombie apocalypse au #bts fanfic #kpop scenarios #lia writes

[gerberbabey]

euphoric | one | JJ Maybank

a/n: this post isn’t showing up in the tags and idk why😔😭

ive linked both the outfit and the makeup look, and will continue to do so in the future. this is mostly bc im not rlly good at being descriptive sorry 😔 . For the aesthetic and looks in particular i might link a lot of Cierra Nia, cus her vibe and fits are very much what i had in mind. (when it comes down to it a lot of the inspiration im going off of is very Kali Uchis, Princess Nokia, and SZA.)

ik that this kinda cuts into the inclusivity (w aesthetics and fashion sense at least, bc i understand that some of these outfits might not be smth other people are comfortable wearing), but even w the concept ill try my best to widen the range of outfits as i go forward

the chad bit is inspired by @yourlocalauthor

also... im lowkey loving Isaiah as a character and i might invest in him more than i planned to lmao. 

summary: You get ready for dinner with the Cameron’s but you meet a certain Pogue instead. 

masterlist | previous | next

warnings : cursing, lack of pogues and action (i gotchu next part tho), also terrible writing

one - ♫ Only in the West by Yeek  ♫

After being told that you would be interacting with people in just a few short hours you’d rushed off to your designated room. Your parents were generous enough to leave name signs on the doors (likely for the movers to put your belongings in the correct rooms) and you tore yours off the front before you slipped into the room, closing the door and locking it behind you. 

You took in the room for a moment. It was already pretty much furnished, just not decorated or arranged in a way that you would like it to be. Everything was just kind of there, from the bed sheets to the vanity that you actually couldn’t really complain about.

Your suitcases had been placed at the foot of the bed and you moved to open the one that contained your makeup. You transferred your makeup products onto the vanity before a buzzing at your waist made you pause. 

“Oh shit,” you pulled your phone from where it was being held against you by the waistband of your shorts. The FaceTime caller ID had “that bitch maddy ” displayed at the top of the screen and you cringed because she was probably pissed that you hadn’t been responding to any of their texts. Pressing the answer button you pulled out the little seat of your vanity and leaned your phone against the mirror. 

“Oh shit, she answered!” BB’s voice echoed out of the speaker of your phone and you let out a laugh. 

“Are you serious dude, we’ve been trying to contact you for hours,” Maddy drawled out, clearly annoyed.

“I just got to the house Maddy.”

When it came to your group of friends, Maddy Perez was someone who constantly sought for attention. This wasn’t shit talk either, it was just the fact of it. You’d been friends with Maddy for nearly your whole lives and something that she loved was praise and attention. You were one of the few people who knew how to keep up with some of her antics. You were also one of the few people capable of calling her out on her shit without her lashing out at you for it (Although the topic of Nathaniel Jacobs was one she seemed to be especially hard headed on). 

The girls started to talk over one another, Kat’s voice drowned by the energy of Maddy and BB. You nodded along as you moved around in preparation. You’d stripped off the top you had flown in, tossing it aside in irritation and instant relief as the sweat that was being trapped in by the fabric immediately began to be cooled by the touch of the air conditioned room. 

“I mean what the fuck right?” Maddy concluded her story and you could only imagine Kat rolling her eyes. 

“Maddy the longer you complain about Nathaniel the more I begin to tone you out,” you admitted and Kat let out a laugh. 

“Daaaamn,” BB drawled out from somewhere off screen. 

“What the fuck (Y/N) you’re supposed to be on my side,” Maddy was clearly angered by your comment, you could hear it in her tone. 

“Babe I am on your side. I’m on your side no matter what the fuck that psycho does. I just really don’t need to hear about what he does because it doesn’t change anything,” you leaned in close to the mirror to focus on your eye make up. You looked over at your screen for a split second and from Maddy’s body language alone you knew you’d eased her irritation.

“So (Y/N) how’s North Carolina,” Kat question, emphasizing North Carolina with a misplaced old-time cowboy-like accent. You’d only spoken to the movers from earlier so far but people from North Carolina and the Outer Banks in particular didn’t seem to have a distinct type of accent. 

“It’s…” you leaned back to look at yourself and shrugged, “sticky.”

“Sticky?” Kat laughed and Maddy let out a small ‘ew’. 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s sticky.” 

_____________

It took nearly two hours but you’d finished getting ready and damn did you look good. You’d ended the call with the girls after they showered you with compliments and sentiment and you find yourself letting out a heavy sigh to try and release the tension in your chest. You missed your friends. You missed being a short drive away from Maddy’s house. You missed Kat and BB laying around in your room arguing about one thing or another. You missed sleepovers at Cassie and Lexi’s house. You missed heading out to the gas station and talking to Fez and Ashtray (which was an experience mind you). You missed the suburbs and not being on an island all the way across the country.

You missed all of this and you hadn’t even been on this island for a day. 

A knock on your door interrupted the growing weight you could feel throughout your body. 

“(Y/N), are you ready? We’re gonna head out soon,” your mother’s muffled voice called to you and you nodded before realizing she definitely could not see you. 

“Yeah I’m good just give me a second!” you called back. 

“Ok,” her voice drifted off and you took one last look in the vanity mirror, concluding that you definitely needed a full body mirror in this room. 

For tonight you were dressed to ensure the weather on the island knew it could fuck off. Maddy had pleaded for you to wear one of the dresses/outfits she’d gifted you at your farewell party (although you’d specifically told her not to get you anything, you also weren’t gonna complain about the amount of money she’d made Nate drop just to get you presents). So there you were, dressed in a dark purple, suede-textured, bra top with a long pleated skirt that was a lighter, softer shade of purple. You accessorized with two different chains hung around around your neck, a purple bucket hat, a small light purple shoulder bag, white socks bunched at your ankles and silver sneakers. The look was topped off with your makeup matching the purple color scheme. 

Concluding that you were good to go, you made your way out of your room and then out of the house. You took in everything as you passed it, from boxes that were yet to be unpacked to new pieces of decorations your old house definitely did not have. 

“Y’know sometimes I wonder how it feels to need to take 3 hours getting ready,” Isaiah drawled from where he was leaning against the car, scrolling through his phone. He’d dressed in some cutoff tan pants and a polo with a logo that you couldn’t make out on the left breast. 

“It would really help you out,” you shot back and he scoffed. 

“My look is effortless ok, I have natural beauty-”

“Oh, natural beauty bullshit-” 

“I’m not the one with layers on my face-” 

“Say that the next time you wanna use my face masks-”

“Ok ladies! You’re both absolutely gorgeous,” your mother interrupted your bickering as she made her way outside, “Do you wanna know how I know because you both got it from me,” she struck a pose and you let out a laugh while your brother rolled his eyes. 

“(Y/N) are you not gonna bring a jacket?” your dad questioned as you slid into the car. You blinked at him before turning to Isaiah who shrugged. 

“You’re not serious,” you stated and your jaw dropped at the serious look on your dad’s face, “Dad you can’t be serious, it’s so hot.” 

“(Y/N) you’re not even wearing a shirt, it would give me peace of mind if you had something to cover yourself up.” 

See now, while your family got along well, there always was something within families wasn’t there.Your dad’s opinions always seemed to clash heavily with you and your brother’s (yours especially). The man disapproved of Isaiah’s group of friends and lack of participation in sports. The man also disapproved of your friends (aside from Kat and Lexi) and heavily disapproved of your fashion sense and the outfits you tended to wear. He usually didn’t have to see any of the outfits you wore considering he was at work practically all the time, but he always had something to say when he was present. 

“Man people are walking around shirtless and stuff dad it’s fine,” Isaiah tried to defend you. 

“I wasn’t talking to you Isaiah.” 

Your dad was also the only person who didn’t call you or your siblings by your nicknames. 

Isaiah rolled his eyes. 

“Ok ok, it’s fine,” you’re mother piped in, “here (Y/N), you can have this cardigan,” You gave her a look of disbelief and she only shot you a pleading one back. Her expression alone told you, ‘please, just leave it’. You grit your teeth and snatched the cardigan from her, slouching into your seat aggressively as your dad nodded and started the car. Bea continued to watch whatever show she had preoccupied herself with and from the corner of your eye you could see Isaiah’s hand clenching and unclenching on his lap. You couldn’t see his face but you wouldn’t doubt he was as pissed as you. 

_______________

The Cameron house was packed with people. 

Well, not the house itself, but their large backyard was crawling with people. When Bea had told you that you guys would be heading to the Cameron’s for dinner you thought it would’ve been with the Cameron’s and the Cameron’s alone. 

“Welcome to your welcome party!” a man walked up to you and your family and you and Isaiah shared a look. 

“Ward, you didn’t have to do all this,” your mother laughed and the man waved off her concerns before giving her a hug in greeting. 

“This was the least I could do for my new business partners. Now, this must be the (L/N) kids,” the man, Ward, turned to the three of you and Bea stepped up with the confidence that surpassed you and your brother’s. 

“Hi I’m Bethany, but everyone calls me Bea!” she introduced and Ward let out a joyful chuckle. 

“Nice to meet you Bea, I’m Ward Cameron. I work with your daddy.” 

“I know,” Bea said matter of factly. 

“Oh, well then, it’s still great to meet you. And you two are…?” He trailed off offering a hand out for your brother. Isaiah stepped forward, taking his hands out of his pockets and shaking his hand firmly. 

“Isaiah,” he greeted with a nod and Ward nodded back.

“Then you must be (Y/N),” Ward guessed and you nodded with a polite smile. 

“It’s great to meet you three. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you kids,” Ward praised and you tried not to roll your eyes. There was no way your dad was bragging about his kids and you assumed your mom just talked about your antics. She loved talking about your guys’s antics. Bea was likely the only one who actually got any praise from either of your parents at this point. 

“Well there’s food on those tables, take as much as you want. Seconds, thirds, go crazy,” Ward motioned to the long tables displayed with food, buffet style, “Bea there’s a few kids over there who I know would love to make a new friend,” Bea ran off at that, “and you two. My daughter Sarah and my son Rafe are somewhere over there with some others your guys’s age. I know you guys definitely don’t wanna hang around when the old people start talking,” Ward laughed and your parents chuckled while you tried to hide your wince with a smile. 

Ward ushered your parents off, leaving you and Isaiah to stand awkwardly looking over the crowd of people. 

“Wanna go get food?” Isaiah offered and you nodded eagerly. 

_____________

Kiara was on enemy territory. If there was one thing she definitely had not wanted to do, it was go to a Kook party (in Sarah Cameron’s house nonetheless) to welcome a new Kook family, but her parents practically threatened her. Now she was here, trying to avoid all the Kooks (i.e Sarah) while her parents mingled with other parents. Kie had done a pretty good job slipping off so that she wasn’t forced to talk to any one and was sitting on a chair that was basically hidden away from the rest of the crowd.

‘SOS. god pls get me out of here’ She texted her group chat with the other Pogues and threw her head back in irritation as she waited for a response. 

“Y’know I think I just saw Chad, Brad, Tanner, and Hunter over there,” a voice she didn’t recognize startled her and Kie looked up as you and a tall boy made your way over to the spot she’d claimed. You were laughing, your cardigan sliding off your shoulders and both of you had a plate of food each.

“Yeah, they’re waiting for their homeboys Bryce, Brock, and Tucker,” you shot back and the boy barked out a laugh. 

Kie smiled as she caught onto the jokes you guys were making. Yet her smile dropped as she realized that from your unfamiliar faces and your unique sense of style she could tell you two were two of the new kids from the new family. Aka the new Kooks who moved into Figure 8. Kiara’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it. 

‘want us to crash?’ Pope had responded, though from how it was worded, Kie could bet that JJ had sent the message. 

As down as she was for that, her parents were in attendance and they’d probably ban her from ever seeing her friends again (not that something like that would stop her). 

“Hey uh,” Kiara jumped and looked up, making eye contact with you and your brother, “Oh shit sorry, we were just wondering if we could sit here?” 

“Yeah no, go ahead,” Kiara motioned to the empty chairs.

“Thanks,” you smiled at her and Kiara admired your makeup now that you were much closer. 

“I’m Isaiah by the way, but call me Zaya,” Isaiah raised his hand before motioning to you, “This is my sister, (Y/N).” 

“I’m Kiara, but most people call me Kie,” Kie introduced and you and your brother nodded. Kiara’s phone buzzed again, drawing attention to it. 

‘kie want us to come get u?’ John B texted. Kie quickly picked up her phone so she could respond, she glanced between her phone and you and Isaiah before deciding. 

‘nah it’s ok’ 

‘?’ was the immediate response from Pope and Kie could almost hear the confusion. 

‘met the new kids. theyre cool so far’ 

‘If you say so. But jj says dont fall for it’ 

Kie rolled her eyes but could understand the sentiment. She told them not to worry about it before putting her phone off to the side. You and your brother had started a different conversation while Kie had been otherwise preoccupied. Kie watched and listened to you two talk, justifying that it wasn’t eavesdropping since you’d come and sat with her in the first place. 

“That sounds dumb but ok,” you offered and Isaiah scoffed. 

“I mean I looked up if there was one around here but there isn’t so what else am I gonna do.” 

“Sorry, what isn’t here?” Kie interrupted, curious about the context of the topic. Isaiah glanced at you before turning to Kie. 

“Skate park,” he answered, “There isn’t one in the Outer Banks so I could just street skate, but there’s nowhere to drop in. But I was also thinking of just going somewhere and bombing a hill.”

Kie wondered if she was losing her mind. She knew there wasn’t a skate park on the island, the closest one was on the mainland. Most people who skated rode on longboards rather than actual skateboards and as far as she knew most people in the OBX just preferred to surf. But what had lost her was “drop in” and “bombing a hill”. 

“Closest skate park’s on the mainland,” Kie confirmed and your brother seemed to deflate. 

“You skate?” You questioned and Kie shook her head. 

“I’m a surfer. Not much to do when you live out here,” she joked. 

“No shit?” you asked and Kie looked up in thought but shrugged. 

“Well me and my friends, we usually either surf, or we go out to the marsh. We swim, drink, smoke. Either out at the marsh or just at my friend, John B’s, house. Sometimes we throw keggers. Have bonfires. We usually know how to occupy our time,” Kie wondered why she was speaking to these two so comfortably. 

“Parties?” Isaiah questioned and Kie winced. 

“Aside from keggers, people on the Cut don’t really throw house parties. The Kooks are always throwing stuff like this though,” Kie nodded over to the event that was meant to welcome you and your family in the first place. You glanced back at the party/gathering that you’d practically forgotten about. Since you’d arrived you and your brother actively avoided interacting with the teenagers all dressed like they were pledged into Kappa Beta Who Gives a Shit. 

“Sorry, Kooks?” Isaiah questioned. 

“Oh um...Kooks are like the rich people, anyone who lives in Figure 8. Boarding schools, trust fund money, private tutors,” Kie explained. 

“So...we’re Kooks? Because we live out here?” you questioned incredulously. Kie nodded her head and you raised a brow. Sure, you weren’t poor, you’d already established that. Back in California you lived just a few houses down from Cal Jacobs, who owned practically the entire town. You acknowledged that you were definitely more financially privileged than some people, but you’d never had the luxury of going to a private school (shoutout to East Highland) or having a private tutor. And even with as much money as your parents seemed to make, the idea of a trust fund was laughable. 

“OBX is kinda split. John B always described it like...two tribes, one island,” Kie smiled as you and your brother gave her deadpanned expressions, “So y’know who the kooks are, but the other half are the Pogues. Basically the bottom of the food chain. Pogues live on the Cut, the poorer side of the island. Kooks and Pogues don’t really get along.” 

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you, that’s like the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” you stated bluntly. 

“Wait is this like...Soc’s versus Greasers? Like The Outsiders?” Isaiah questioned and Kie’s eyebrows furrowed at the comparison. 

“You're telling me your whole island follows basic labelling like it’s an 80s high school movie?” you questioned in a state of shock and all Kie could do was nod. Kooks and Pogues and even Tourons were just something people knew growing up in the Outer Banks. She’d never really let it sink that other people probably found the concept ridiculous. 

“Do you have bad experiences with...Pogues or something,” you questioned and Kie shook her head firmly.

“Nah, I’m no Kook. They’re entitled, narcissistic, assholes.” 

“So you’re a Pogue? Then why are you here?” Isaiah laughed and Kie slumped in her seat. 

“My parents forced me here. I go to school with these assholes...but I’d never be like them,” Kie shook her head as she caught sight of kids she recognized from the Kook academy. Her family was less upper class, and more working middle class if she really thought about it. Unlike a lot of the highly privileged Kooks, Kie knew what it was like to need to work for the money they had. 

“So then how’s being a Pogue going for you exactly?” you questioned. Deep down you knew that  you probably shouldn’t have been entertaining this whole Kook vs. Pogue thing but you’d also never encountered an entire county of people that was so blatantly classist. 

“Literally great. I surf all day, I get to hang with my friends. The best part is that it’s away from all of...this,” Kie motioned to the crowd that you had separated yourselves from, “Speaking of, we’re actually having a kegger tomorrow. Would you guys be down to come?” Kie looked between you and your brother. 

“Uh yes, please,” you were quick to answer and Kie laughed, “Honestly I was preparing myself for the most boring fucking summer of my life, but I’m really glad we met you,” you admitted.

“Definitely won’t beat back home though,” Isaiah mentioned and you groaned. The thought of missing all the parties that were probably being thrown back in California made you frustrated. 

“Man don’t remind me.”

“You guys moved here from California right?” Kie asked so that she could keep herself in the loop. It wasn’t hard to pick up that you and your brother tended to go off into little conversations of your own but she understood that it was probably because neither of you knew Kie and therefore didn’t know what to bring up in conversation. Kie was an extroverted person but this was something she noticed Pope doing a lot.  

“Yeah, LA actually,” Isaiah confirmed, “Definitely not ‘Paradise on Earth,’ but...” 

“There’s no place like the Outer Banks,” Kie said, though the sarcasm dripped from her entire being. 

“Meh,” you shrugged off with a tone of disinterest and Kie laughed wholeheartedly. 

_________

The three of you ended up talking for the entirety of the night. Kie was determined to stay completely hidden away from the rest of the party’s residents, meaning she had kept herself planted in her chair for quite literally the entire time you guys were there. Isaiah, being how he was, had gotten up a few times to get more food or to grab something new to drink. He had come back with something for Kie each time. 

Kie was interesting, she led the conversation a majority of the time and constantly kept it flowing. You appreciated someone who could work past awkwardness and still keep up a conversation. You ended up exchanging phone numbers and social media and had talked about a whole lot of shit; from keggers, to your outfit, to how moving felt. Isaiah and Kie had even gone on a pretty long debate about music, (something about the top 5 albums of all time, or was it how meaningful a playlist was? or maybe it was about whether it was ok to separate an artist’s actions from their music?). 

Kie was a down to earth, do shit for herself, actions speak louder than words kind of girl. She spoke her mind about everything she was passionate about and though you weren’t preaching about sea life and turtles, you could obviously understand where she came from with her frustrations, you’d just never really met anyone who was so deeply passionate about it. 

The feeling of your phone vibrating against your leg took your attention off of Kie. 

“Hello?” you answered it and Kie paused.

“(N/N)! Where are you?!” Bea’s voice screeched and you furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance. 

“I’m with Zaya, we’re sitting by like some trees, I don’t know.”

“Mom says we’re leaving right now!” 

“Bea stop yelling,” you said firmly, “Ok, we’ll just meet you guys by the car then.” 

“Ok!” your sister yelled and before you could snap at her she ended the call. You shook your head and put your phone into your bag.

“We leaving?” Isaiah asked and you nodded as you gathered yourself and your belongings. Kie began to clean up as well, standing up and helping you and your brother out while you gathered up the empty water bottles and cans of soda. Now that Kie was standing you could see that she was actually a little taller than you originally thought.

“It was really nice meeting you Kie,” you said sincerely and Kie smiled. After the three of you cleaned up she helped lead you guys toward the front of the house without having to deal with whoever was left over at the party. You wondered for a moment about how she was pretty familiar with the layout of the home.

“I’ll see you guys at the kegger tomorrow?” Kie asked. 

“Uh, where’s that gonna be again?” you questioned as you spotted your family’s car.

“Oh it’s on the Boneyard,” Kie explained and you only stared at her blankly, “Ummm, y’know what. I could just pick you guys up?” 

“Yeah for sure,” Isaiah said and you tried not to think about how weird it was going to be arriving at a party at the same time as your brother. That was something you tended to avoid doing when you were back home considering you usually went with your friends. 

You and your brother bid Kie goodbye. You’d never been the type of person to initiate hugging, so when she gave the two of you a wave you found yourself just waving back awkwardly.

Now you were settled in the car, heading back home after a ridiculously tiring day. Bea was going off on a tangent about one thing or another and Isaiah had fallen asleep, wedged rather uncomfortably against the car door. You were texting in your group chat, telling them all about Kie, Kooks, Pogues, and everything in between. 

You wondered if you could finally get a dog.

taglist: @sspidermanss​

#outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine #reader insert #x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #imagine #imagines #kiara carrera #kiara carrera x reader #john b routledge #pope heyward #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #topper thornton #romance #fluff #jj maybank romance #euphoria imagine #kinda #idk why the tags arent working

[astro-break]

Thoughts on the 8th ep of Hypmic Rhyme Anima. Spoilers beware

Ep.1 | Ep.2 | Ep.3 | Ep.4 & 5 | Ep. 6 | Ep. 7

Love that every time its a MTC centric episode im so busy that i can’t watch it the day it airs

I like how the beginning of the episode kinda mirrors the events in MTC’s story in ARB

hey hypmic you wanna try making it Less obvious who the culprit is? like damn you’re just giving away secrets like its candy. First Ramuda, the Ruikawa and now these two assholes. Might wanna keep your cards close before you spoil the ending of the anime oh wait they already did that nvm :p

Samatoki please have some sense of self preservation and ask what its about before accepting something. but I guess it also speaks to how trusting he is of those he lets close to him which also explains a bit more as to why he hates Ichirou’s guts

Love that Jyuto is actually choking the information out of someone and Samatoki is actually gathering intelligence and creating boards out of it. Most people expect the opposite from their characters and it such a great dynamic

I find it hilarious that Rio uses older computers but that brings up the question of “How far into the future really is hypmic?” bc those computers look to be from early 2000′s which would be A N C I E N T and completely unusable for hacking come a time when WWIII happens

Iris on a bike has no rights looking as hot as she does. The vehicle CGI is really nice too and so is her character model on top of the bike. Loving how Iris completely owns the two cops

The MTC love here is jsut. through the roof i can die happy now that i’ve seen Samatoki aggressively caring for his teammates animated and voiced. like, please. just. help. I can.t/ MTC care so much for each other I would hug them all and tell them good work, you can finally go rest now uughghghgh MTC guys. MTC

But mannn Iris is so cool, approaching MTC without any fear

I find it hilarious that Saburo would pose as a game dev from dubai which yknow doesn’t make any sense if you think about it. but whatever it just makes me laugh at how easy it is to fake a lot about yourself because yeah! it is easy! 

The whole conversation about cops and good cops seems a bit off considering ACAB but considering Japan who has largely swept both BLM and ACAB under the rug it isn’t surprising. That isn’t to say that Japan doesn’t care, its just that these movements aren’t on the spotlight so topics like these don’t carry as much weight

lol yeah he should have expected to be stabbed from the front lol

SRKHFSKJD Rio please stop living in the water, i can’t believe he did that lol

Love the SamaJyuto subtext in the translation lol

Jyuto’s sequence is kinda cute in a way ahaha

The kurosawa-esque b&w screens are a nice touch to the song as well as the MC Name drops and hypnosis speaker drops. Idk about Rio’s 2DIE4 reference though since it doesn’t really rhyme nor does it add much to the rap itself

The song itself is pretty nice but it isn’t a bop like Fallin’ was. It has a different more gritty feel to it that i don’t hate but isn’t my style

Of course Iruma pulls this situation into his favor, its so typical of him.

Rio didn’t speak much here and took a general backseat to everything. I wonder if it was because during the time of recording this episode, Rio’s VA, Kamio Shinichiro, went down with The Virus (you know the one) so he couldn’t record much. Who knows but best boy. just let me hear best boy’s voice please

Ramuda’s phone vibrate actively annoys me oh my god it makes my skin crawl

If Ramuda’s sleeping on the couch then that really does confirm that Ramuda lives in his studio. Not surprising considering everything we know about Ramuda but at the same time, please get like a futon or smth sleeping on a couch will only hurt your back

Ramuda just busting in is fun

but im not sure how to feel about two divisions shoved into one. like this is basically telling us who is the important divisions, Ikebukuro and Shinjuku. Obviously BB are the protagonists of the series what with the staff coming out to even say that Ichirou is the hero, and if you know what happens then you know why Shinjuku is also highlighted which. also gives away the ending of the anime. again. I’m just glad that the team decided to stick with the irl results bc if they didn’t, they’d have a lot of angry fans

Back to my main point tho, this just. pisses me off. I love FP and MTC and to see them sidelined like this doesn’t feel fair. they deserve full eps to themselves bc if I’m being honest, these two teams have some of the best inter team dynamics out of the current cast. I understand that budget issues and episode constraints exist but this is just kinda frustrating that my main division has been tossed aside and the team that gets the most overall development gets thrown away too

Im not surprised that they cheated because gambling anime is about who can outcheat the other and the mind games played. thats the thrill of gambling series is the psychological factors in it

Ramuda emulating Gentaro’s speech is cute

The mindgames are not present at all and I expected that lol

thats.... midly gay gentaro lol do you always go around pressing shit into people’s mouths while leaning in close? thats pretty gay lol i love the homoerotic subtext present in this episode. First SamaJyuto and now GenDice

no speaker summon sequence? thats slightly disappointing but whatever. the anime is really doing FP dirty by cutting a lot of corners with their episodes

I never noticed that Ramuda and Gentaro hold their mics in their left hand while Dice holds it with his right. neat detail

I love how even in a battle FP still keeps their preppy attitude

Gentaro looks so awkward to the little sway and kick thing in the song lolol

This is probably one of the songs that I like the least. Jackpost is a very Dice song and not really fitting for either Ramuda and Genaro. I think i’d like it more if it was a dice solo or dice centric but the emphasis was pretty cleanly spread so that makes it pretty hard to enjoy

Oh hell yeah FP meshing as a team is just, so cute. Though that foreshadowing with Ramuda and his candy is just. wow

Yup they kept the og brackets so I think the anime’s going to stick with the IRL results. Which means that any tension they try and build won’t work for ppl who are already familiar with the series but I hope they don’t take that fact as an excuse to slack off

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic spoilers #hypnosis mic rhyme anima