#can you tell that this AU completely fucked up my dumb little brain???? yeah

[roraruu]

I’ve got a special remixed fic for Of Conduct, Of Manners! It’s available for download under the PDF library, and updating daily until complete on AO3!

#leolorenz #leorenz #3h #fanfiction #leonie pinelli #lorenz hellman gloucester #fe3h #ru writes #ocom #can you tell that this AU completely fucked up my dumb little brain???? yeah

[stevesbipanic]

soulmate au where you can hear what song your soulmate has stuck in their head. Steve gets confused as to why he always hears heavy metal, because he always thought he'd fall for a girl who listens to cheesy romantic pop music, and Ed gets frustrated from all the Top 40 songs constantly playing in his head

Since my last soulmate AU was sad I should do another fluffy one so Ty for the prompt.

Eddie doesn't really remember a time a song wasn't playing in his head. He assumes there was probably a time when he was little bit his memories of childhood are fuzzy at best anyway. However, no matter how loud he plays his metal songs, the poppy top 40s songs of his soulmate will often drown them out. It almost drives him insane, until one day all the songs stop.

In the cold winter of 1983, Eddie Munson wakes up one day with no song in his head. This wasn't completely unusual, his soulmate was often an early riser but the holidays were coming up so people slept in more. What was strange however, was there was no song, all day. No song the next day and no song for weeks. Eddie knew something very bad had happened to his soulmate and he didn't know what to do.

Steve will often tell people he does bad at school because his soulmate plays the loudest music. When Steve was a kid the songs would only be now and then but since Steve was nine there was always some loud metal music rattling around his brain. Steve would spend years looking for some cool metal chic, but all the girls he met liked cute pop songs.

Steve was suspicious that Nancy was a secret metalhead when he fell head first in love with her. She wasn't, he wasn't surprised she always had indie music playing in her head. After he faced the Demogorgan, Steve didn't feel like listening to the radio, the staticky sound put him on edge, he sat in his room, all the lights off so they wouldn't flicker, and held his nail bat tightly. He would listen all day for the sound of danger, the only noise he heard was his soulmate. When his parents returned a few weeks later he had to go back to normal.

When Eddie woke up to some dumb song he heard on the radio once, he almost cried. His soulmate was ok.

In 1984, Eddie's soulmate had another blip, Eddie held his breathe, but the songs would return and his soulmate was ok.

In 1985, Eddie's soulmate had the dumbest songs in his head. Weeks after the fire Eddie would figure out he heard the same songs playing in the mall. He was glad he could still here them, his soulmate was still ok.

In 1986, Eddie felt bad for his soulmate. He'd been practicing Master of Puppets for weeks as soon as it came out, his soulmate must be sick of it. When everything started happening, Eddie's soulmate was quiet, Eddie hoped he was ok, that he wasn't dead somewhere like Chrissy.

Eddie silently apologised to his soulmate as he played his favourite song once more, he hoped they would forgive him if said song saved the world. As Eddie laid bleeding out in Dustin's arms, he wished he could hear a dumb pop song one more time. Maybe his soulmate was waiting for home on the other side.

...

....

.....

Eddie blinked his eyes open, the lights were bright, wait, bright lights? Eddie looked around as his eyes came into focus, he was in a hospital, he was alive. That wasn't the only surprising thing, Steve Harrington was asleep in a chair next to his bed.

"Hey, pretty boy, wake up."

"E-Eddie? EDDIE! Fuck you're awake! You're ok!"

"Yeah, seems like it, I'm guessing I have you and the others to thank."

"Yeah, couldn't let my soulmate bleed out in that hellhole."

"Soulmate?"

"Dustin told me what song you played."

Steve flicked Eddie's arm.

"Um OW! I'm injured here Stevie have mercy."

"That's for making me listen to that song for weeks, Eds!"

"Well it saved the world didn't it?"

"Yeah I guess it did."

"Plus you made me listen to cheesy pop songs sweetheart so we're even. You um, I thought you were dead sometimes, there would be no songs for weeks, I thought Vecna had killed you when there was no songs again this time."

"Don't like listening to songs when all this shit is going down, distracts me. I don't think my head has ever been as quiet as on that drive it the hospital, don't do that again ok?"

"I promise, Stevie, gonna be stuck with my loud as fuck music for life."

"Sounds good to me, Eds."

Guess Eddie's soulmate was waiting for him on the other side after all.

#stranger things #soulmate au #steddie #steddie au #steddie soulmate au #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #ty for the prompt #ficlet #steddie ficlet

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[danyvhell-writes]

Ais headcanons pt 2 ! (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Ais, my beloved. My brain won't stop thinking about him, there's so much to say omg ! I need to draw him this is serious :')

+ Not really a headcanon but when I first saw Ais in the trailer I thought he would be a kinda pirate character :') don't make fun of me lmaouiadubgziu !! I really imagined our first encounter with him on the coast of the city/harbor and that his story would be based on pirate tales and marine legends. I'm still sticking to my idea that it would be fucking awesome to have Ais as a captain or something, traveling the seas and oceans with him and his crew. (let me dream) PIRATE AIS AU WHEN ????!!? (Helloooo sailor !!)

• Has really pretty hands for someone who fights so much ! Likes to be presentable in front of you.

• He's a simp in his own ways. Someone making a remark about how good looking you are, he's gonna brag "Damn right they are ! Look at them."

• If you're mixed or have unusual features for your ethnicity, he would try to guess your origins (and he's strangely good at it ?). And if you have a weird/rare mix it's even more fun to see him struggle a bit.

• Likes to share foods ! Please feed him, he loves it. He'll just watch your dish with insistance until you ask him "You want some ?" and lean opening his mouth. He'll gently make you taste his meal in return. You're his little sparrow after all, so of course he's gonna let you peck in his plate.

• If your gaze meets his, he'll wink casually. It's his way to say "Hi babe."

• Completely forgot to ad this in my last hc post but !! If you use ASL, he will learn just so he can talk with you. Teach him everything you know, he's a good student >:) And if you happen to know how to read lips, this man would be thrilled to learn how to do it ! I just know he'd love to spy on people's conversation and gossip with you hehehe

• When you guys go on a walk and see sparrows he's always saying stuff like "Look, your friends' saying hi !" "This one looks just like you, cute." or "Wonder who's the real little sparrow… Sure you're not an impostor hm ?"

• When he doesn't smoke, he smells like a mix of cloves, iodine, humid air & metal (you know what i mean ?)

• Ties up his hair in a little ponytail sometimes and it's the cutest thing ever !!!

• If you're sensitive to the smell of cigarette (I personally despise that shit), he'd be careful not to smoke near you or puff in your direction. Passive smoking is not an option ! When you tell him it's fine, he responds "I don't want to screw up your healthy lil lungs !" ↑ However if you take cigs too, he'll gladly share a smoke with you. Really likes to have a calm talk with you while you guys enjoy your stuff. (+ shotgun kiss grrr)

• If you trip on your feet or something while walking, no need to feel ashamed. He would simply do the same on purpose to reassure you and act like it's something casual. "Can't watch my feet either apparently :)" You can be clumsy around him, do not worry !

• We know he doesn't like easy fights and he's kinda into brats so… give him challenges. Dumb ones, hard ones whatever you want ! He needs adrenaline and what's better than a little dare. "Bet you can't climb that tree in less than twenty seconds !" "Oh yeah ? Don't be presumptuous, I'll show you." and there he goes, perching himself on a big branch.

• Related to that... You're a snarky little shit ? Good. He likes it. Be cocky with him, that's what he needs. Of course he loves your soft side but no bickering nor teasing would be boring. This man needs a challenge.

• Loves going on walks with you and his babies (soulless). He'd show you around, make you visit nice places you've never been to and you get to play with Princess + the rest of the pack ! Sometimes his destinations are a little perilous but it's worth the risk. Two whole hours walking in the mist to watch the sunset ? Okay let's go, handsome !

• You're a trans person ? Great. He is too. Now go makeout like the T4T couple you are. (My Ais is trans and I won't come back on this statement 🏃🏽‍♂️💨)

• Always rests his hand on your hip. Number one resting place, comfortable & perfect shape for it. Sometimes the touch feels almost ghosting against you, you wonder if you're imagining things. Please, do the same for him. His waist is literally snatched with that pretty belt of his, perfect place to put your hands on ! He would really appreciate.

• He's good with makeup. Let him put you some red eyeliner so you guys can match ;) Just imagine him holding your face gently while he's concentrated on making a cool pattern with the liner. "Don't move." "I'm trying sorry !" "Am I that distracting to you ?". He won't mind if you try some on him. Dark lipstick omg, he'll rock that shit !

#touchstarved game #ais #touchstarved ais #touchstarved #ais x reader #gn reader #ais touchstarved #headcanons #touchstarved headcanons #touchstarved demo #red spring studios #so obsessed with this guy it's insane ! #okay but guys imagine trans pirate Ais i- #promise i'll write about the other guys don't worry #my hcs

[safetycar-restart]

okay so all i can think about rn for corruption kink is like poly!vr46 like you and bezz teaching the omegas on how to get through their heats if you guys for some reason can’t be there. like you’re all curled up in the nest and one of the pups just starts grinding against you because he needs help and he’s just so horny and wants his alpha to fix it and make it better.

corruption kink also lowkey fits sub!oscar like he’s just so subby and doesn’t know what to do and he just wants his dom to help him but she’s far away for some reason so he facetimes her and is like help meeeeeee. so she teaches him how over the phone?

i don’t know it’s all just kinda brain rot atm but have a good day!

🔙🦴anon

Listen if this is your idea of brainrot then please continue because oh my god this is great. I’m gonna discuss each of these ideas, because of course.

POLY!VR46:

(For context, this is an au we discuss sometimes where Bez and reader are alphas and the rest of the academy are all omegas. You start off just dating Bez but slowly you and Bez kinda become the joint alphas for the entire academy)

So firstly, Bez would be SO into the idea of corrupting his cute omega pack mates. He LOVES wrecking them, isnt finished with them until they’re covered in cum and unable to remember their own names. So corruption kink? Absolutely.

I think it starts off pretty organically? Like you don’t plan it, but one day you and Bez are cuddling with Cele and discussing when Cele’s next heat is. You both realise that while you’ll try your best to get there, there’s a genuine chance Cele might have to spend the first day or two on his own.

And he is NOT pleased with this at all. Especially not because just the week before you and Bez had tagged teamed and fucked Pecco silly during his heat. Cele wants the same!!!

You try to reassure him that you’ll be there as soon as you can and remind him that he can look after himself. Bez pipes up then, telling Cele he can use dildos on himself and make himself cum over and over again.

Which of course gets Cele a little riled up and then suddenly you’ve got a whiney, pouty omega grinding against you and asking what he must do to himself. And Bez, the master of dirty talk, is more than happy to educate Cele on the things he can do, whispering absolute filth into his ear. While he does this, you move your hands to Cele’s hips and start directing his grinding, basically making him hump your thigh.

The poor thing leave a little puddle of slick on your thigh when he cums.

(And then a few days later you have all the other omegas demanding the same attention because they heard what you and Bez did to Cele)

SUB!OSCAR:

Yeah he’s such a subby baby!! He gets into this headspace where he just feels completely useless and dumb? And then even though he’s rock hard and more than capable of jerking himself off, he can’t!!! He’s too subby for that, all he can do it whine and huff and spam message you until you give in and FaceTime him.

The moment he answers, you’re greeted by a very pouty Oscar. His hair is a mess and his lips are bright red from how he’s been biting them.

When you ask what’s wrong, he just mumbles “help me” and then unceremoniously flips the camera so you can see the bulge in his boxers. You get it then, he’s all subby and very unhappy there’s no one around to play with his cock.

You tell him that you’ll help him, that he can make himself feel good if he just listens to you. At first he’s uncertain, not liking the idea of doing any of it himself but you promise him that he just needs to listen to you, he won’t have to think at all.

You ‘teach’ him how to hump a pillow, which is something you’ve had him do so many times before but you know he’d get all whiney and unhappy if you didn’t give him precise instructions and act like he’s never done this before.

He sounds so shocked when he tries and it feels good? He babbles on and on about how good it feels and thanks you for showing him and promises he’s being a good boy.

(Arguably good boys don’t spam you until you call them and then show you their cock unprompted but oh well, at least he’s cute)

#poly!vr46 #omega!driver/rider #mb #nsfw. #gn!reader #sub!oscar #oscarp #kinktober tag #🔙🦴

[stunkers]

Ok more info about the freehoun borrowers au because I’m so normal about it and all the cute boys are always sending me love letters asking me to tell them about my sick and diseased brain ANYWAYS

yeah so like basically Gordon is a borrower who lives in the blackmesa topside dorms specifically Barney’s apartment/dorm. Gordon has never been down in the facility but he knows damn well if he gets caught his ass is gonna get sent down there to run through a rat maze and worse shit!! Gordon ended up in the dorms completely by accident his dumb ass got stuck in someone’s luggage and that’s how he ended up in New Mexico.

And Barney has always kinda known about borrowers, his Mum told him about them when he was a kid and ever since then he’s always just been. Very aware of his living space. Like he notices the things go missing and he starts leaving little chips and stuff out on the counter just so he can see them disappear the next morning and he knows it’s not roaches because the facility and everyone else’s dorms got bugs but no his is so clean and tidy. (It’s because Gordon keeps every single bug he sees as a pet. Or he eated them.) so Gordon won’t get anywhere close to him or let him see him on the off chance that since Barney’s a security guard he might catch him and bring him into black mesa. Ahh!! Also gordon has seen the silly books barney reads he would definitely try and catch a silly weird little critter.

Anyhoo just like real halflife Gordon he is always breaking and smashing shit. Totally not on purpose here it’s just how he is but he smashes a glass while he is fighting off an especially large cock a roach that somehow fucking got in. All those damn chips barney keeps leaving out Gordon can’t eat them all. Roach got hungy. Gordon manages to kill that damn thing but owie he got a big hurtie cut on him! And that roach fucked him up bad! And fuck Barney definitely heard glass ball shatter!! Shit!! So he tries and hides while Barney is cleaning up the glass and a roach that has a sharpened tooth Pick imbedded into it and he sees a trail of blood leaving the scene leading under the couch and there’s a mouse man who is 1 apple tall who is hurt bad and very very scared.

Gordon freaks out and tries to run but he’s got a booboo and can’t get very far before barney corners him and Gordon’s like “oh this is the end I’m gonna get trapped under a cup and dissected” but Barney just gets down to his level and he’s like “hey you got a booboo. I know aid let me help u I’m not gonna hurt you I prommy” Gordon is. VERY reluctant at first but he also can’t take care of these wounds himself and he’s mostly just scared shitless so he agrees and wow barney is so nice and gets him patched up. And Gordon’s like well shit now I can’t stay here I got seen and Barney’s like. Hey you know damn well I ain’t gonna do anything to hurt you. Let’s be roomies it’ll be fun. Gordon agrees and wow they are so close now. Love wins also Gordon rides around in Barney’s shirt pockets btw. Barney started wearing shirts and jackets with breast pockets more specifically for Gordon it’s so awesome. Also the rescas still happen. I have stuff for like plot of HL2 but it’s a lot and this post is already long sory

Sorry I have a terrible brain disease if you read all of this god have mercy your wretched soul I hope you didn’t catch the illness

#freehoun borrower au #borrower gordon

[manekinoodle]

honestly i just really like to put hoxton into situations but @velathetanager had an amazing player au which grew this horrible little seed. so thanks. i'd make a fic but without a pc it's not fun to type.

so. hoxton gets to know a payday 2 player. basically it's accidental and he overhears the mutterings of a player who's testing out a build or something. he's confused, but he's too busy to really question it. at least until jacket goes down and there's a very clear voice in his head going "damn ai pathing. someone come get me - HOXTON! HOXTON YOU STUPID BITCH come get my dead ass or - SYDNEY NO GET AWAY FROM THE TURRET! dammit sydney's down too fuuuck" and hoxton gets jacket back up and all is good. our player gets confused when hoxton in particular is becoming a smart bot. hoxton is hella confused about the voice but now he's realising how dumb his friends are being (minus jacket, who seems to be possessed). obviously our player puts hoxton permanently on to the bot crew.

hoxton doesn't get any good answers until he's back at the safehouse. as he hears jacket walking around fully armed and poking jimmy in the face (and since when was jiro fully mute, anyway?) he's standing in front of his fully completed conspiracy corkboard. jacket comes upstairs, punches a glass wall to come in and talks to dallas (who is unfazed) and then walks in to chat with clover (who would normally be chasing jacket out with a broom). hoxton stops jacket, calling out his name. jacket pauses, before the voice comes back in hoxton's head, "new voice line? i thought ovk ran out of money after paying pete gold for that hoxton christmas single." ok, christmas single? sure, hoxton had a christmas album that was in public circulation, but the single was still in the christmas cards waiting to be sent out.

is this weird voice someone who had hacked into bain's channels? and just selectively decided to drive hoxton crazy? that can't be it. bain would have known by now if that was the case. and the cryptic jargon this person was using... and who the fuck is pete gold?

while hoxton is considering this, jacket is circling him. "man, you're ugly," says the voice.

"WHO are you calling ugly?" hoxton snaps, fully expecting dallas or clover to shush him for the noise. neither of them are responsive. aldstone is still walking around the safehouse, nonchalantly walking through the broken glass wall. shit's getting weird.

jacket has paused, blinking somewhat owlishly. "uh. hox, you hear me?"

"yeah. who are you, and what do you want from me?"

"uh... shit, how do i explain this? um... consider me a god or something. yeah, that's our relation. this world is but a plaything to me. but you... you've received my divine favour! congratulations!" the voice is obviously making this shit up. but hoxton finds the explanation somewhat logical. it explains the weird behaviour of his friends. the knowledge and the cryptic words the voice uses.

"if i'm the one with 'divine favour' then why are you using jacket?"

"look, i had to commit one count of digital smuggling to pl- uh, possess him, ok? i can possess anyone i want. i just think jacket is funny."

"can you possess me then?" hoxton doesn't want this to happen. he just wants to know.

"yeah, but it's not as fun. you're actually helpful when we're heisting. plus, why not just leave you with the burden of knowing? i think it's more interesting that way. possession would just be a reprieve you don't deserve!" the voice cackles. the voice is an asshole. the possession of jacket is somewhat fitting.

"what do i get out of this divine favour then? an asshole who follows me around, talks to me in my head and makes my friends all weird?"

"look, i have to go make dinner soon, so your friends will be back to normal. and i'm much more useful than that! i can tell you things that you shouldn't know yet. but i'm considerate and i don't want to break your little brain." ok, that's fair. probably. hoxton had never considered the ethics of being a god that knew everything. he didn't consider much ethics at all.

"you can tell me something i don't know, right?"

"get ready for more election rigging and holding out!"

and with that, the voice leaves. jacket just keeps staring at hoxton. dallas starts screaming about the broken glass wall. aldstone calls a guy who can fix it.

hoxton needs a stiff drink. it's 9am on a thursday morning. he thinks he deserves it.

#payday 2 #hoxton #jacket #neki writes #neki spitposts #it was a fun exercise!

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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[beerecordings]

Werewolf AU - Part 13

Something about the slightly mildewed but overwhelmingly warm smell of Sean's office is becoming so familiar to him. Today, walking into his office, he realizes he doesn't mind being here. Or not too much, anyway. Definitely better than going to jail.

"Marvin!" Sean greets him. "And Jackie, hi!"

Jackie grins and then flops down face-first on the couch. Marvin cracks up, shaking his head. "Don't mind this idiot. He just worked for like eight hours without breaking on his latest project."

"And now there's no brain left in my head," Jackie mutters into the cushions.

Marvin sits down at the table with Henrik and Chase, pleased to see them both looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Not literally, unfortunately. He would like to see both of them in wolf form together one of these days, but they remain tragically human in appearance today.

"Marvin, the guys told me that some people yelled at you for being werewolves the other day and you didn't even get angry." Sean sounds so relieved by this news that Marvin feels a little bit bad he didn't tell him right away, but honestly, he didn't even think about it.

"Yeah, I guess. They grabbed Schneep by the collar and all. But it didn't even really occur to me to get angry that time. My brain didn't even start to go there."

"Oh? Why not?"

Marvin blinks. "I... don't know. I guess Jackie was handling it, and Chase and Schneep were there, so I didn't want them to... yeah."

He didn't want them to get scared, so he just stayed calm and watched their backs. Then his Alpha got them out, and fed them, and everything was okay.

How can it be that simple when he's gotten in so many stupid fights for less?

Sean grins at him like he knows something Marvin doesn't, which would definitely piss him off if it was anyone other than Sean McLoughlin. As it is, he just bares his teeth playfully, and Sean leans down and pretends like he's going to bite his ear for a second before straightening back up and messing up his hair.

"Well, Schneep has some exciting news too."

Henrik looks completely abashed to be made the center of attention. He shrugs and plays with his hands, but grins a little too. "Just shifted once, that's all."

"Oh, good!" cries Marvin, clapping his hands together. "You crazy little bastard, you came this close to the full moon!"

"Whatever," says Henrik, and that makes Marvin laugh too, because from the way he says it, he's pretty sure Schneep picked it up from Chase. Whatever, bro. Fuck, they're a funny pair. This is the thing about wolves, he's found, that the most unlikely people can come together as if on instinct. He turns to look at Jackie, and his cousin's dumb face pressed against the cushions of the couch makes him smile despite himself. Jackie's summer scent clings to his neck like a hug.

"Maybe Jackie wants to share his good news too," he suggests.

Jackie grins weakly on the couch. "You do it. No brain."

"I can't say that for you!"

"Fine," grumbles Jackie. He sits up just a little. "I got my house back. Asked my dad to leave, and now he's gone."

"You should have seen him on the phone," Marvin purrs. "Guilt-tripping, threats, screaming. But Jackie didn't budge."

Jackie accepts a hug from Sean, who practically leaps at him, but then Jackie won't let Sean up again, and it turns into a whole wrestling session, with Chase and Henrik laughing at them from the table, and -

Yeah. Marvin really doesn't mind that he's here.

As class starts, Sean gives the guys some info about werewolf culture and different folklore in comparison to the science of this stuff, which is actually pretty interesting. Marvin moves to share the couch with his cousin, and Jackie doesn't talk for the rest of the session, but he sits with his head on Marvin's shoulder and listens to Sean talk. He moves into their plans for the full moon as class draws to a close.

"I know Friday is not our usual day for class, but I want you all here with me by the time the moon comes out. Chase and Henrik shouldn't be having their first shift alone, and Marvin and Jackie can help and demonstrate to me that they have control so I can put that in my court report."

"So... does that make us close to the end of all this?" asks Chase, sitting up.

"My actual non-official course runs several weeks longer, and I expect you all to keep coming! But in terms of actual certified rehabilitation, I want you all to get that as soon as possible, with the minimum requirements, and we'll build from there without the legal constrictions. So once you can shift on command, can retain control through a full moon, and have gone through my basic info courses, I can recommend you all for certification."

"And then they can't stop me from having unsupervised visits with the kids!" Chase cries, almost leaping to his feet. "Yes! Thank you, Sean!"

Marvin thinks the number of hugs going around lately is pretty damn cute, watching Chase and Sean rub their heads together fondly, but it isn't lost on him that not everyone is equally as excited. Henrik looks slightly lost on the other side of the table, mouth pressed thinly together, nails drumming against the wood. Marvin pities the position he's in, truly. Turned in a foreign country... will he be able to force himself to go home, now that he's found wolf friends here? Or maybe it's the other way around: maybe he'll force himself to go home whether or not it's the best choice for him. Maybe he'll try to go back to his old life, and then... will he ever find a pack like that?

Marvin's chest hurts, for a second. It's just not fair. You're not supposed to turn a human unless you have a pack ready and waiting for them. Pack compulsions are strong - that's supposed to be a good thing, not a burden.

Jackie nudges him with his head, ready to go. Marvin gets up and drags his eyes away from Henrik as everyone starts to disperse. Schneep follows them outside, but Chase doesn't. Marvin watches as he goes to pull Sean aside, leaning in to speak closely with him. But Henrik doesn't say anything about it, so Marvin doesn't pry.

Jackie goes frigid for a second as they step outside. Marvin puts a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? Need to go back inside and sit in the quiet for a while?"

Jackie blinks. Shakes his head, eyes narrowing. Marvin puts his nose up.

Is that what's bothering him? A far-off storm in the air?

"What is that?" asks Henrik uncertainly, stepping in circles with his nose lifted. "That's not right."

Marvin glances at him. "Thunderstorm coming."

"You're sure it's a storm? A real one?"

"Yeah, dude, rain in the air."

Jackie rumbles a noise Marvin doesn't like so much, but he'll just have to ask him about it later. His cousin's done for the day. Needs a nap.

"We'll walk you home," Marvin adds warmly. "Don't want you getting rained on. Chase coming out soon?"

"Yes. I think he just needs a minute."

"Everything okay with you two?"

Henrik puffs out a sigh.

"I guess."

Marvin doesn't press him further.

.

Chase presses the scrap of fabric into Sean's hand.

"I wanted you to take this, if you can," he says, hands shaking a little as he lets it go. "I think it needs to go to the police. It's pretty faded by now, but..."

"I know this smell," mumbles Sean. "What is that?"

"You probably remember it from when you met Henrik and I at the hospital," says Chase wearily. "After our attacks. I know I must have smelled like him."

Sean's eyes widen and his scent twists in a way Chase doesn't understand, the flame smell rising like a fire with gasoline thrown on it, inciting a roar of forest-consuming heat, blazing with light. He stares down at the piece of fabric, holding it close to his nose for a moment, and his jaw tightens; his eyes flash.

"I didn't mean to hold on to it," says Chase, worried, for a moment, that he's angry with him. "The doc convinced me to let it go. To give it to you."

Sean places the scrap tentatively in his hoodie pocket.

"Thank you, Chase," he says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

His heart rises in his chest, and he knows his smell blooms, because Sean smiles at him. "Oh. Yeah. Sure thing."

"I'll make sure this gets to someone who can do something about it."

"I knew you would," Chase replies.

"Are you okay?"

Chase swallows, nodding valiantly, or he hopes it's valiant, anyway. "It was time to get rid of it. I need him to stop haunting me."

Sean looks up at him. His eyes are very clear.

"Of course," he says.

And then he adds, under his breath: "He will."

"You good, Sean? Don't really look any less tired."

Sean blinks at him for a second, then pouts. "But I have been sleeping. A little more."

Chase chuckles and pretends to bite his ear the same way Jackie and Marvin and Sean do. "I'll see you Thursday. Take care of yourself."

"See you Thursday. Just be careful... full moon's coming. Instincts can get a little wild. Keep on your toes, fresh-turn."

And he winks with one tired blue eye.

#and it might not be what you would expect #hopefully this one is not too much filler but there will be major happenings next... #werewolf au #bee writes

[notchesandbullets]

Take it From Your Hot Neighbor Baby (Virgin!Sub!Midoriya x Reader)

Art credit: Heijiu Comics

Requested by anon: OMGGGGGG I love your writing, I was thinking If I can make a request on a smut with my baby Izuku Midoriya. Where he's so beautiful and innocent and the older neighbor next door from him likes him and basically targets him for sex which is the reader of course, and he likes her too. So then she totally doms him and invites him to her house and basically go at it as Izuku's innocent's self can't handle the pleasure the reader gives him!If you could do that I love your writing, If not it's cool!!!

Warnings: slight dumbification, precious bby izuku is 19, everything that happens here is consensual, unprotected sex, pet names, overstimulation, virgin!sub!izuku (mainly), Aged up!AU, filthy smut, dirty talk, cursing.

18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!! i loved writing this :D (feel free to send me another to write, i’m already almost done with what i suspect is your other one xD)

Words: 4k

You grinned as the shared wall between you and your neighbor shook, signaling that the boy from next door was finally home. 

Midoriya Izuku, a passionate and utterly clueless broccoli-haired boy turned fresh pro-hero, sweet and sensitive, everything you ever wanted in a partner. That, and he was clearly too shy to approach you.

You had been neighbors with him and his mom for forever but only until recently, after his admission into UA did you start to see him in another light besides platonic. And it wasn’t until he graduated that he had completely dominated your interest in another way entirely.

It was no secret that he used to be a scrawny kid but since his high school days, he had bulked up considerably. 

Now, with the body of a tank and a soul bursting with positivity, you were completely hooked.

It really was astonishing to you how he continued to maintain that innocent personality after becoming a pro-hero. No one was that optimistic and oblivious all at the same time. 

You had started out with smaller hints, bringing him food once a week to make sure he was eating properly, taking care of him when he was sick or injured and just too stubborn to admit it and go to the hospital, you name it and you’ve done it.

What was extremely exciting at first to be interacting with him like this dulled the moment you realized this baby was so innocent that all your signals were completely going over his head.

The dumb baby. Your dumb baby.

He was fast approaching 20 but you were willing to bet he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. With the way he walked, it was as if he was still the same kid you had met ten years ago.

Your parents had long since moved out of the apartment, going closer to where your grandparents were since they were getting older and needed to be taken care of. You had politely declined their invitation to go with, asking if you could take over the lease on the place since they would no longer be living here.

As their only child, they had a soft spot for you and let you do as you pleased now that you were old enough to be living on your own. They even helped you out with the rent even though that was entirely unnecessary. 

Your day job paid enough.

An upbeat tune floated throughout your apartment and you danced along to the music in nothing but a thin cami and a pair of scarlet lace panties. Since it was so hot today, you had decided to forgo actual clothes. It was perfect, but you were definitely still sweating. 

Tapping a finger to your chin thoughtfully, you recalled how your adorable and hot neighbor’s mom was out working all day and wouldn’t be back until late. Plus, you knew that he had no hero work today, courtesy of the boy telling you himself via text when you checked up on him earlier this week.

Pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head so that it brushed just below your thong clad ass and fell off of your shoulders, you fluffed your hair, giggling to yourself at your reflection in the mirror. 

Today was the day you would make Midoriya yours. 

Grabbing a few cookies from the kitchen that you had made just last night because you felt like it at that moment, you flung open your front door, knocking on his a second later. 

Hopping in place excitedly, you couldn’t contain your enthusiasm. You hadn’t even bothered to message him that you were coming over, knowing that he would prefer it be a surprise. 

“Izuku!!” You cheered when the door opened, immediately thrusting the plate of cookies out towards him. 

He staggered a couple steps back, unprepared for your sudden attack but rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile, emerald eyes shining with gratitude.

Midoriya bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N!!” 

It had taken literally years before he was comfortable calling you by your first name without any honorific attached to the end of it. But it was worth the wait as warmth sparked through your heart and a soft smile adorned your features before it was replaced with a mischievous one.

Bounding up to him, you pressed your chest against his purposefully, making it so that you almost lost your balance. You gasped in mock surprise when he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist to catch you, relishing in how strong his arms felt around you.

Midoriya stuttered as your boobs were practically smushed against his face by how close you were to him. Were they always that big?!

It wasn’t like he masturbated to you everyday or anything. Definitely not.

He groaned, throwing his head back as your body heat encompassed him. 

Who was he kidding, he jerked off to you every spare second he got. He couldn’t help it though. Your beautiful smile always beckoning him over, those alluring eyes of yours enticing him closer and closer until he felt as though he could combust merely by standing in your presence alone.

Giggling, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip and you batted your eyes at him. A shudder ran down his spine and you bit back a smile at the blush that sat on his freckled cheeks.

“Do you want to come over for a little while?” You asked softly, feigning shyness and you rubbed your thighs together. “I have something I want to show you.”

The action didn’t go unnoticed and Midoriya’s mouth dried as the swell of your breasts peeked up over the low scoop of your shirt when he glanced down. 

“Uh, y-yes?” He uttered, voice shaking with uncertainty as he automatically agreed to what you had asked him without even thinking about it.

You giggled, eyes lighting up in excitement. “Great!!”

He stumbled after you as you dragged him next door to your apartment, losing his balance and falling on the couch as you pushed him inside. 

Your eyes shifted from playful to concern as he landed on his back with an ‘oomph’.

You were quick to cup his face, examining him closely. “Oh no, Izuku, are you alright?” 

“Y-Y/N!!!” He stammered out, face bright red at your proximity.

“Are you alright?” You repeated, uncharacteristically serious and seeing as how you were asking him more than one question, he nodded to both. 

You chuckled, leaning in close. His cheeks burned at your proximity and although you wanted so badly to tease him, you needed to get something straight first.

“You ever been fucked before, baby?” You cooed sweetly and a visible shiver shot down his spine.

He gaped for a moment, not used to you saying something so brazenly but shook his head wordlessly. 

You smiled, your tone taking on a gentle lilt as you sensed his nervousness. “Want me to be your first?”

This time he didn’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” He whispered, barely breathing as he finally confessed what he had been longing for ever since he turned of age. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t outwardly show it, but your heart skipped a beat at his admission and the butterflies fluttered uncontrollably.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip to contain the wide smile. “Something tells me that you want to be played with, am I right?”

A whine bubbled past his lips and your smile turned wicked. Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him. You wondered how he would look when you played with his nipples, which you sure would be so sensitive it would have him hard in a heartbeat, or how he looked writhing under you when he was about to cum. 

Anticipation thrummed through your veins and you couldn’t believe that after all this time, you finally had the opportunity to give him that kind of pleasure. 

“Such a good boy.” You crooned softly and he audibly keened, stretching towards you desperately as you denied him a kiss. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

Midoriya’s head was spinning and his brain was short-circuiting from how unbelievably close you were to him. The sweet smell of your perfume flooded his senses and he swallowed thickly, very much aware of how little clothes you were wearing. You had yet to touch him and he was already a goner.

“S-Safeword?” He stammered out, his eyes shutting automatically as you threaded your fingers through his hair, a small moan breaking through the weighted silence as you scratched his scalp. 

You observed his every move, every flutter of his lashes as he fell under your spell without even trying to succumb. 

“Mmhm…” You hummed. “A word that you can use at any time and I’ll stop everything.”

A safeword was for both parties but you were fairly sure that you wouldn’t need it, being more experienced than him and aware of your boundaries. But just in case, you whispered that little tidbit of information in his ear so that he wasn’t left out of the loop.

“What if…” Midoriya gulped, restraining himself to keep his hands at his sides no matter how desperately he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked. “C-Can’t I just tell you to stop?”

You frowned a tiny bit, not put off by his question but rather how fucked out he looked already. The poor boy was already straining in his pants, the bulge making your mouth water but you kept your head on straight. 

“You can.” You agreed. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

He glanced away from you, thinking hard. He wasn’t all innocent. He had watched porn before when dared to by Bakugou after one of the class movie nights at Heights Alliance back when they were at UA, and he was embarrassed how quickly he got attached to the videos that had bondage and overstimulation.

It always looked so enticing. He wanted to know what it felt like to be pinned down and overpowered until pleasure rode on every one of his senses. 

He wanted you to do that to him. 

“W-What about if I just used your name?”

Midoriya cringed as soon as he suggested it and took it back faster than you could react, another idea tumbling out of his mouth in a split second. 

“Black?” He whispered, avoiding eye contact with you. 

Baby boy blinked so nervously, worried you might refuse or reject him for any reason and you took his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his face close to yours. 

“Alright baby, that’s perfect.” You reassured softly. “Either one of us can use it and then everything stops, okay?”

He nodded, getting more excited as your breath fanned across his lips. 

“Need to hear you say it.” You demanded quietly. 

His green curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. “I understand!!”

Midoriya stiffened for a moment in surprise as you finally pressed your lips against his, sealing his first kiss and he swore his heart stopped beating. Then, he melted into putty as you moved your lips skillfully against his, coaxing him to return it with as much lust and passion as you were igniting within him.

You pulled away to lean in close to his ear, trailing a finger up and down his chest playfully.

“Let me take care of you, Izuku~” You cooed, slyly licking the shell of his ear, savoring in the shiver that shot down his spine as a result of your ministrations.

You continued down, planting hot and wet open-mouthed kisses along his jaw as he whined and wriggled beneath you. Trailing down his neck to his collar bones and then his bare chest as you ripped open his shirt in one swift movement, you pinned his wrists above his head.

A protest ripped from his throat at your display of dominance.

“Y-Y/N!! I wanted to—”

“To what?” You questioned smugly.

Midoriya whimpered pathetically and you smirked. 

He blushed, looking away. The boy was built like a bull but was an absolutely softie, innocent pure little bean at heart. He didn’t have what it took to take over. 

“You wanted to touch me?” You asked, laving your tongue around one of his sensitive nipples. “You wanted to be on top?”

His face scrunched up at the strange sensation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as you bit down on the tender flesh.

You licked your lips seductively, making a show of your tongue grazing over your teeth as you gazed down at him through hooded eyes. “Do you think you deserve to touch me after being such a bad boy?”

You heard him every night. The walls were thin in the cheap apartment complex you lived in. Too thin. 

“Don’t touch me until I say so.” You ordered.

You heard every wanton moan that bubbled past his pouty lips, such pretty little sounds that you wanted to hear all for yourself. You were jealous of the others in the vicinity that can undoubtedly hear him as well. The only thing that settled your heart at ease was the luscious cries of your name falling from his lips. 

And now, all your neighbors would know just who he belonged to.

Midoriya gulped nervously and you reveled in the adrenaline pumping through your veins at being in control and dominating him. Your shirt rode up as you straddled his hips, and he wriggled beneath you, wanting nothing more than to touch you.

You trailed a finger from his chest all the way to his navel, teasing the waistband of his pants. He whined as you wiggled your ass down to sit comfortably on top of his thighs. Deftly unbuttoning his jeans, your eyes flickered back up to him.

“Oh my, these look so uncomfortable.” You mock pouted, sneakily biting the zipper of his fly and pulling it down. “Do you want me to take them off for you?”

You grinned as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into your feather-light touch, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes in frustration. Slowly pulling down his pants and boxers together, your eyes bugged out as you saw what he was packing.

“Oh…” You mused. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

If you thought he was big, you were dead wrong. This boy was hung as a horse. Well endowed to the max, he was easily packing eight inches and you couldn’t even fit your hands all away around his thick girth. 

You stroked him as best as you could but judging by that guttural groan that erupted from his mouth, you’d say you were doing a pretty good job. 

“Please!!” Midoriya begged, practically sobbing as you teased him and it was like music to your ears. “Please, Y/N, make me feel good!!”

“Yeah,” You whispered, suckling on the vein that ran on the underside of his stiff member. “You want me to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes, please!!” He cried, fisting the fabric of the sofa, remembering your rule not to touch you yet. 

But it was killing him.

The foreplay had made you wet enough to take him and you weren’t keen on waiting another second longer.

Positioning yourself over his leaking head, the tip of his engorged shaft rubbed against your puffy folds as you pushed your thong to the side.

Midoriya’s eyes bulged out of his head as he saw the red lace and he couldn’t stop his hands from shooting to your waist as you threw your shirt up over your head, leaving you in that thin cami that left nothing to the imagination. 

“F-Fuck—” You cursed as you sank down on him, thighs trembling from the effort of taking him. “Izuku, baby, you’re so big.”

He was rock hard and pressing against your inner walls just right. It had been so long since someone had filled you up like this and now that you had him, no one even came close to any of those prior. 

Midoriya was huffing, moaning uncontrollably as the rush of pleasure he got by being encased in your tight heat so quickly. His hands gripped your hips, kneading the flesh of your ass as he started to rock you back and forth in his lap.

You completely ignored the fact that he disobeyed your order. 

“Dumb baby,” You cooed softly. “Does that pussy feel good around your cock? Huh? Tell me.”

“Yes— hhgh, I love it so much, Y/N, you feel so tight, ahh!!” He mewled, unable to think of anything else except how good your cunny felt fluttering around him.

His face was beautifully flushed, unable to tear his gaze off of where his cock had disappeared into you. The sticky wetness smeared against his hip bones made your arousal evident and he was impossibly turned on at the vision in front of him.

You threw your head back as he took over control, gyrating your hips for you before you were even adjusted to his massive length. A breathy moan tumbled out of your lips as his fingers knotted their way into your hair, yanking it back so that your hips canted into him with every thrust. 

“I-Izuku!!” You moaned loudly as he roughly and sporadically pounded into you. 

You squealed as he pulled you down to his chest to get a better angle, all the breath vanishing from your lungs as he planted his heels and fucked up into you so fast that you would’ve fallen off from the force if he wasn’t holding onto you with an iron grip.

“Sorry, Y/N!!” He broke off with a whine and burrowed his face into your neck as you clenched around him, his hips stuttering. “But I’m about to—”

You shrieked as he released inside of you, painting your walls with his thick, milky white cum. Chest heaving, you pushed him down and straightened up, clicking your tongue.

“Such a selfish baby.” You crooned, controlling your breathing enough to put up a confident front. “I didn’t even get to cum yet.”

His eyes widened in horror at not satisfying you first. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t— Gah!!”

His earnest apology was interrupted  as you began bouncing on him again, keen on reaching your high. His spent length twitched inside of you and he whimpered, eyes screwed shut at the pain.

“Y/N!! It… It hurts!!” Midoriya whimpered pitifully, his eyes screwed shut at the overstimulation.

“Aw,” Your smile was sadistic and you threw your ass back into his lap intentionally, causing him to throb within you. “Does it?”

“Yes!!” He cried out. “Fuck, please stop!!”

You pouted sadly, gyrating your hips faster. “But I haven’t even cum yet.”

It was too much. Your words spun with those sinful rocks of your hips was making a lethal mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his system and he whined, pawing at your hips. 

“Y/N, please!!” He begged, unsure what he was begging for at this point. 

It didn’t take long for him to get hard again. You weren’t sure if his short refractory period was a side effect of his power or the fact that he had just lost his virginity to you and wanted you again, but you were definitely going to oblige him either way.

Midoriya arched into your scalding touch as you leaned down to kiss him once again. Your soft lips and the hot cavern of your mouth distracted him as your tongues danced together and he almost forgot about the fact that he was balls-deep inside of you. 

Until you started to move again. 

His cry was muffled as you licked it out of his mouth before pulling away.

Your grin widened and you rocked your hips back and forth at a mind-blowing pace, reducing the blubbering boy beneath you into a whimpering mess.

But your confident façade soon vanished as his hands found purchase on your hips and bucked up wildly. 

The grin slipped off your face and you whimpered, fingers splaying on his bare chest for balance as he went wild, fucking up into you with abandon. 

You could do nothing else other than hold on and pray you wouldn't fall off of him as he took over.

Biting your lip, you desperately tried to regain control. “Izuku—” 

He gritted his teeth, ignoring you and your eyes widened as green lightning started to surround his body. 

Your eyes widened. “Wait—!”

He didn't. 

Your head tipped back and the loudest scream you've ever produced ripped from your throat as he used One for All to completely destroy your pussy. But to your disbelief, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down when you contracted around him.

His hips slammed up into yours at a breaknecking speed and tears blurred your vision as you cried out, sobbing with pleasure as he finally made you cum.

“Y/N, you’re milking my cock so much!!” Midoriya blurted out with a raspy moan as another orgasm spiraled to you and you shrieked, this one hitting harder than the last.  

At some point, you blacked out.

When you came to, Midoriya was hovering over you worriedly, his green eyes glistening with concern as he called your name over and over again.

Sitting up with a groan, you realized that he had laid you down on the couch and covered you with a blanket.

“Y/N?” The boy asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes as he sat down by your side.

You offered him a smile, every bone in your body protesting as you sat up. Midoriya was helping you in a second, ignoring your feeble protests that you could do it yourself. 

The next minute, he played with his fingers awkwardly. 

“Was… Was it good for you?” He asked timidly, blinking his big eyes up at you. 

You cracked a smile at how earnest he was. Cutie. 

“Of course it was.” You murmured, planting a soft kiss on his forehead before staring straight into his eyes. “You know this means you're mine, right?”

Midoriya blinked his doe eyes, mouth parting slightly. “Eh?!”

You smirked. “Yup.”

“Really?!?!” He asked excitedly, leaning forward to stick his face close to yours and you giggled. 

Adorable. Simply adorable.

“Yeah, baby.” You whispered, cupping his face and pecking his freckled cheek. He was so sweet. So pure. 

You couldn’t wait to defile him more. Wait until he was exposed to the world of BDSM.

Licking your lips slyly, you smirked. “You’re all mine.”

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader oneshot #smut #midoriya smut #izuku smut #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader smut #izuku x reader smut #midoriya izuku #my hero academia midoriya #deku fanfiction #deku x reader fanfiction #midoriya fanfiction #midoriya oneshot #my hero academia smut #overstimulation #pet names #this is filthy okay xD let me live my life #virigin deku smut #bnhacity #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x reader smut #bnha #bnha smut #deku #deku x reader oneshot

[ackerfics]

hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them

she — hange zoe

— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else

— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.

— word count: 2.5k

— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.

She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.

“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”

Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.

The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].

“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”

“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”

Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”

“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”

“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”

“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”

Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”

“Oh? What are those things?”

The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.

[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”

“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”

“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.

“Anything for my sweetheart.”

“Again, I’m right here, you know.”

Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.

But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.

The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.

A friend.

Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.

Fall is where everything started.

The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.

Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”

A pause made the breeze’s call known.

“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”

That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.

“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.

She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”

Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”

She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”

Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”

“Yeah, it’s her.”

Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.

It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.

But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.

“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].

“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”

“And what of my feelings, Levi?”

That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.

Then, the dam broke.

“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.

“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?

“Why didn’t she choose me?”

Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.

“Hange,” Erwin murmured.

“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”

A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.

“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”

“Stop it! You’re prettier!”

“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”

“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”

“Me, too, angel.”

Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”

The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.

Winter is here.

general taglist:

@angelofthorr

#aot #aot x reader #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe #hange x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan #snk hange #snk hanji #hanji zoe #aot hanji #hanji x reader #hanji x you #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #snk imagines #aot imagines #rorywrites #UNEDITED DNWJ

[lauras-collection]

✮ electric love | part 2 ✮

Harrison Osterfield x fem!reader | fwb!roommates au

|| Masterlist || Series Masterlist ||

Summary: Living with your best friends Tom and Harrison is all fun and games until one drunken night alone with Harrison, you give in to your attraction to him. You tell yourself you should leave it at that, forget about the night you spent with him and move on to not ruin your friendship, but neither of you can stay away from each other. So without considering the possible consequences, you make a deal. But how are you supposed to keep your shenanigans from Tom? And how are you supposed to not break the number one rule of an arrangement like this: do not fall in love.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ [fingering, protected sex, riding], a smidge of angst, reader and Haz being horny idiots again, but this time sober. 

A/N: For the record, I know pubs aren’t usually open that long, but my favourite Irish pub in Brighton is open until 4am on the weekends. so I imagine Tom working there :D 

Hope you like it!! 

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

It’s still dark out when you wake up, and it takes you a few seconds to realise where you are. You blink a couple of times and when the coffee table still littered with cans and empty bags of crisps comes into view, the evening before comes back to you, and you realise that Harrison is still laying behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist. 

Panic starts to creep up your spine, and suddenly you feel like you’re trapped. You sit up quickly, not even bothering if it wakes Harrison up. The blanket falls from your frame, and you realise you’re still naked. 

This can’t be happening. 

You pull the blanket back up to cover yourself as Harrison starts mumbling incoherently. Patting the coffee table, you try to find a phone, you don’t care if it’s yours or Harrison’s, you just need to know what time it is. 

“What’s going on?” Harrison asks, rubbing his eyes as you finally feel the sleek surface of a phone display underneath your fingertips. You lift it up to see the time, it’s just after four in the morning, and if you were slightly panicked before, it’s kicking into high gear now. Tom will be back any moment, and there’s no way you’ll let him walk in on this if you can prevent it.

“We fell asleep.” You stand up, dragging the blanket off of Harrison’s body, but he doesn’t seem to mind. For a moment, you’re distracted by the sight of him in his boxers. His pecs and abs illuminated by the moon shining into the window. With a small shake of your head, you turn around and start to scramble your clothes together. “Tom will be back soon, we need to get out of here.”

Harrison finally gets moving and, for a while, all you’re able to hear is the two of you shuffling around and your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You rack your brain as to how to handle this situation, what to say to him. 

You’re still standing there, the blanket wrapped around you, as Harrison pulls on his sweatpants, his shirt hanging over his shoulder.

And then you just stare at each other for a long moment.

“I’ll just—“

“So do we—“

You both start talking at the same time, the air around you filled with awkward tension. And you hate it. You can already feel a headache coming on, and you want to just fall asleep and forget what happened. 

Not that it was bad, that’s not it at all. It was amazing. But you don’t want this to change anything between you and Harrison. You love your friendship the way it is, you won’t risk ruining it with sex. Except… maybe you’ve already done that.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” You mumble, and without waiting for a reply, you dash towards your room and quickly close the door behind you. 

You let out a deep breath before getting rid of the blanket and finally putting your clothes back on. You know that you need to get some sleep to counteract this hangover, but there’s no way you’ll be able to. 

You feel disgusting, you’re covered in dried sweat, Harrison’s scent is all over you, and it does nothing to ease your anxiety. You contemplate taking a shower, but when you hear the front door close softly, followed by Tom’s footsteps moving around the flat, you know that will have to wait until the morning. 

It’s been a week since you slept with Harrison and you can’t stop thinking about him. While you caught yourself fantasising about him every now and then before you crossed the line, now you know what it feels like to be touched by him. To be completely consumed by him. And with every day that passes you crave his touch even more.

Getting a taste of him did nothing to soothe your longing for him. On the contrary, it made it worse. So now whenever he’s close, whether that be him waiting for his toast to pop out of the toaster while you’re making a tea, or him sitting next to you on the sofa, your mind goes places it shouldn’t while thinking about one of your best friends. 

It’s frustrating. You don’t have the time or the energy to find someone to hook up with to fuck Harrison out of your system. That’s probably what got you into this predicament in the first place, to be honest.

And the fact you still hadn’t really talked about what happened was eating away at you. There just hadn’t been the right time to bring it up. It’s been a stressful week for both of you with work and uni assignments, and if you had a few hours of spare time Tom was always around. You couldn’t just say ‘Hey Harrison can we talk about that thing that happened?’ Without Tom getting suspicious. And the last thing you wanted was him finding out that you and Harrison had sex on the sofa while he was at work.

It isn’t really awkward between you two. You still act normal around each other, it’s almost like nothing changed if it wasn’t for that underlying tension that always fills the air when you’re alone with him. 

You delete the last paragraph you’d written for your essay with a groan. It didn’t make any sense anyway. Taking an English Lit class for extra credit sounded good when you first started the semester because with Harrison being an English Lit major you had someone you could ask for help right here living with you. 

The irony of your situation makes you laugh. You contemplate quitting the class altogether, but there are only a few weeks left in the semester and all of your work so far would’ve been for nothing. 

So you push all your confusing feelings to the side, close your laptop and pick it up. You don’t have to look far to find Harrison. He’s sitting in the living room, feet on the coffee table while scrolling through his phone. 

He looks up when you let yourself fall next to him on the couch. The corners of his mouth lift into a smile and he locks his phone as he turns his body to you.

“What’s up?” 

This is the first time you actively search out Harrison’s company since that night and you feel a little guilty that you’re doing it because you need his help.

“Can you help me with my essay?” You give him your best puppy dog eyes. “It’s for English Lit and everything I write seems dumb.” 

The look in Harrison’s eyes gets a little softer as he nods his head.

“I’m sure it’s not dumb” He reassures you “Let’s see what you’ve got” He reaches his hand out for your laptop and you give it to him after unlocking it. His eyes flit over the screen as he reads over the measly excuse of an essay you’ve written. You can’t help but think how pretty his profile is. 

“When’s it due?” He asks casually and you have a feeling he won’t like your answer.

You glance at the time on your laptop display, almost ten at night. “In two hours?” you press your lips together as Harrison’s head whirls over to you.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you ask for help sooner?” 

You obviously can’t answer that question honestly, so you shrug your shoulders and say, “I wanted to do it on my own, but I’m incompetent so it didn’t work” 

“You’re not incompetent!” He insists. “Look, what you’ve got so far is pretty solid, we just need to build on it.” His fingers fly over the keyboard as he starts to work on your essay. 

As he types, he explains what he’s doing and occasionally asks a question. And an hour later your essay is ready to be handed in. 

“Thank you so much for your help,” You say after you successfully sent the essay to your professor. 

“Don’t mention it” He places his hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze and your breath catches in your throat. Images of the night you spent with Harrison start flashing through your mind as your eyes lock with his. He looks as taken aback as you feel, but neither of you dares to move. 

The warmth of his hand is burning into your skin and you hate that just one touch from Harrison is enough to get you so worked up. 

You clench your thighs together subconsciously and when Harrison's eyes leave yours for a second you know he noticed. The air around you is tense, thick with anticipation as his hand slowly moves up your leg. His eyes are boring into yours and you try your best to keep calm but your breathing is already heavy. 

You don’t dare to say anything. As unsure as you are about what Harrison is thinking right now, you don’t want to ruin this moment.

His hand slowly moves further up your leg until his fingertips reach the hem of your shorts, then he pauses. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you know he’s giving you the time to say something. To tell him to stop. But you don’t want him to stop. 

Biting your lip you give him an almost imperceptible nod and then his fingers slip under the fabric. You spread your legs a little allowing him to move closer to your heat and when his fingertips brush against your panties both of you take in a sharp breath.

“You’re soaking,” Harrison whispers, almost in awe.

“Been thinking about the other night a lot.” You say and lift your leg that’s closer to him until it’s laying on top of his, giving him more access. 

“Yeah?” he asks, his thumb gingerly pressing against your covered clit. “Me too”  

A moan falls from your lips and you reach out your hand to grab his forearm. Harrison stops his movements for a moment until you squeeze his arm.

“Keep going” Your voice is already hoarse, the pulsing between your legs almost unbearable. Harrison licks his lips, then gently moves your underwear to the side. And then his fingers are moving through your slick folds.

You throw your head back with a groan. You’ve been dreaming about his touch for the past week and there was nothing you could do to satisfy that craving. Nothing but being touched by Harrison again. 

“That feel good?” Harrison murmurs and places a kiss on your shoulder.

“So good” you breathe, you’re hot, your blood rushing through your veins and you can already feel beads of sweat starting to build on your forehead. “More” You mewl, tightening your grip on his arm.

Harrison hums and then you feel him entering you with his fingers, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit and it’s almost enough to make you cum right then and there. 

Harrison starts slowly moving in and out of you, his fingers slightly crooked, looking for that one spot. When you let out a moan and dig your fingers deeper into his forearm he knows he found it and continues to rub against it. 

Your whole body is covered in goosebumps, your muscles tense as you throw your head back and lift your hips in an attempt to get closer to him. Harrison starts trailing kisses up your shoulder and neck and when he starts sucking on your sweet spot there, you’re a goner. Your pussy starts clenching around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you. You barely make out Harrison humming against your skin. 

When you come down from your high, Harrison’s fingers are still inside you, moving ever so slowly as to not overstimulate you. You’re a long way from overstimulation though.   

“Need you” You press out between groans, while you enjoy Harrison’s kisses and his fingers pleasuring you, it’s not nearly enough. 

Harrison removes his hand and you find yourself pouting, but then he lifts his hand, your arousal shining on his fingers along with his ring. And then he puts them in his mouth, licking them clean with a hum, his eyes fixed on you and it might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Let’s take this somewhere else.” He whispers against your skin before scooping you up. You let out a small squeal and wrap yourself around him tighter. “Your place or mine?” His hot breath hits your ear and while waiting for your answer he trails some more kisses on your neck.

“I don’t care.” you manage to say and moments later Harrison kicks a door shut with his foot and lays you down. You’re surrounded by dark blue bedsheets and Harrison’s scent. Without any hesitation, Harrison gets back to covering your neck with kisses. His hands moving under your shirt pushing the fabric up your body. With one swift movement, you get rid of the shirt, now laying in front of him in your bra and shorts.

The way Harrison is looking at you makes shivers run down your spine. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N,” Harrison mumbles, his fingertips trailing over your newly exposed skin. Arching your back, you push yourself closer to him, your need to feel him reaching a new high. 

As soon as Harrison’s taken off his shirt, you run your hands over his toned torso until you reach the waistband of his grey sweatpants. He tenses for a second and lets out a shuddering breath when you tease your fingers under the fabric. You need to bite your lip to keep in the giggle that’s threatening to fall from your lips at his reaction. You never thought he’d be this responsive to your touch. 

While Harrison leans down to nip at the soft skin of your neck and collarbones you reach into his boxers and wrap your hand around his cock. Harrison lets out a low groan, his hot breath hitting your skin.

He’s hard and heavy in your hand, and the thought of him inside of you again makes warmth pool between your legs. Harrison curses when you slowly start to stroke him. He rests his forehead against your shoulder as if to collect himself, his soft curls tickling your skin. 

And then he lifts himself up enough so he can look at you, his eyes dark. 

“You sure about this?” A tiny voice in your head is aware that sleeping with Harrison again, this time sober, is crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed. But haven’t you already crossed that line last week when you told him to fuck you? Right now, you don’t want to think about that, though. All you want is him.

Your mind is quickly distracted from all of these thoughts when you take in the sight of Harrison on top of you, and you nod eagerly.

“Yes. I need you.” As if to emphasise your words you tighten your hand around him a bit, making Harrison groan.

“Fuck” 

You let go of his cock and place your hands on his chest “Are you sure about this?” As much as you want this right now, you won’t do anything he isn’t willing to do. You don’t want him to feel pressured just because you need a release, and you need it from him.

“Yes. Fuck yes. Just… gimme a second or I’ll cum way too soon” He lets out a strained laugh and you can’t help but chuckle as well. While Harrison hovers above you, you bury your hands in his hair, slightly scratching his skull with your fingertips, causing him to let out a low moan. It’s not the first time you’re doing this. Whenever you feel like he’s stressed or upset about something it’s a sure way to make him feel better.

“I love it when you do that.” He hums before leaning down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

He starts placing kisses on your neck, his hands moving back between your legs. Your hips buck up the moment his fingers touch your clit. 

“I think a second is over” You pant out while he draws lazy circles on your sensitive bud. You can already feel the coil in your stomach tightening again. 

Harrison lets out a laugh before pulling his hands away to take off your shorts.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to completely undress and him to put on a condom and then he’s positioned between your legs.

You run your hands over his arms, his biceps bulging as he hovers over you. Has he always been this muscular? 

You have no time to further think about that because in the next moment he’s placing his hand on the back of your knee, spreading your legs wider before lining up his cock and pushing into you. 

You throw your head back at the feeling of finally being filled again, digging your fingertips into his back as he bottoms out. 

“You feel so good.” He murmurs and then starts rolling his hips into you. One of his hands is holding your hip as he picks up his pace. 

“Fuck, I love your cock.” You mewl out, causing Harrison to chuckle darkly.

“I know you do. The way your pussy was dripping just at the thought of it spoke for itself” 

Your walls tighten around him at his words and you arch your back, spreading your legs further. 

“I wanna ride you.” You say, and it only takes Harrison a few seconds to react. He pulls out of you and easily rolls over so you’re on top of him.

Harrison’s hands are on your hips, helping you balance as you sink down onto him, before moving to your waist as you try to find the best angle for yourself.  

You gasp when the head of his cock strokes a particularly sensitive spot and, just like last time, your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Harrison. His face breaks out into a smile and his hands cup your breasts, playing with your nipples. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan.

You feel the tingling sensation start to spread through your body, getting more intense with each of your thrusts.

“I’m close” 

“Yeah? Need me to make you cum?” He has the nerve to smirk up at you, his curls falling into his flushed face. You can’t help but notice how beautiful he is like this. He would be even more beautiful if he wasn’t being such a tease right now, though. 

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it” You grind out. It’s not like you couldn’t take matters into your own hands (literally) but you know Harrison is able to take you there. If he can do it drunk he shouldn’t have a problem sober. Hell, he did it earlier on the couch. And you’re going to take advantage of someone else making you cum for a change. Who knows when you’re going to get the chance again? 

“I’d love to watch you make yourself cum while riding my dick, though.” He grins. When you glare at him he bites his lip and returns his hands to your hips. “Maybe another time.” 

And then he tightens his grip on you, holding you in place as he starts thrusting up into you, still at the perfect angle. You have to place your hands on his chest to support yourself as he pumps into you, your tits bouncing with every movement and then suddenly he wraps his lips around one of your nipples.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, you’re only seconds from finally being pushed over the edge. And then his finger finds your clit and you’re done for. 

Words that don’t even make sense fall from your lips and you just barely notice Harrison’s words.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy like that. Coming around my cock.” His words are strained as he keeps fucking into you, chasing his own release “Look at you. So good. Fuck.” 

And then you feel him twitch inside you before he releases into the condom with a guttural moan. 

Spent, you fall onto his chest. Both of you breathing heavily. After a few moments of catching your breath, you pull off him and let yourself fall next to him. 

“So, that happened again.” You say, staring at the ceiling while Harrison disposes of the condom. Now that the fog of desire has lifted and you can think, more or less, clearly again, you realise that this was probably not the smartest thing to do. 

Harrison lets out a chuckle as he joins you back on the bed. He’s laying on his side, his head propped up on his hand. 

“It did. How are you feeling about it?” 

You turn on your side as well to face him. 

“Not to blow up your ego or anything but I don’t remember the last time I’ve had sex that amazing.” 

“You don’t remember last week?” There’s a smirk on his face, so, with a roll of your eyes, you throw a pillow at him. 

“I remember.” You narrow your eyes at him. “But I mean before that. It’s been so long.”

“Yeah, same.” 

You never thought you’d find yourself in bed with Harrison. Have you thought about it? Yes. But you never thought it would actually happen. Let alone twice. And you never in your wildest dreams would’ve thought you’d be so… compatible? Even in long-term relationships you had in the past, it took a while for you and your partner to get to know each other's bodies. 

But with Harrison, it seems like everything just comes naturally. Your bodies so in tune that it just works. 

An idea starts forming in your head. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Harrison is your best friend for a reason. Sometimes, he can read you like a book.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know. You might think it’s stupid.” 

“I won’t think it’s stupid.” He pauses for a moment. “OK, maybe I will, but I promise not to laugh.” 

“That’s not really reassuring.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiles. “Please tell me.” 

You play with your fingers, plucking up the courage to tell him. 

“So we both agree that the sex is good, right?" Harrison nods. "And we both don’t really have the time or want to, like, hook up with random people, right?" Another nod from Harrison. "So wouldn’t it be… convenient if we—“ You wave your hand between the two of you.

“If we—?” He raises his eyebrows. He’s gonna make you say it, isn’t he?

“Sleep with each other. A friends with benefits agreement if you will. No strings attached. No obligations.”

“Just sex?”

“Just sex.” 

You hold your breath waiting for Harrison's answer.

A/N: Oooh, what will Harrison’s response be? I think we all know lmao. I hope you liked it! I’d love to hear your thoughts! 

electric love taglist: @blueraindrops​ // @spideyssunshine​ // @defensive_sarcasm17 // @captainbucky13​ // @frenchfrostpudding // @the-fan-18​ // @hotforharrison​ // @osterfieldvol6​ // @castawayclaires // @littlebookbengal​ // @bigbootyjudys-blog​ // @abcxrandomx // @74limelight​ // @lolooo22​ // @justsayk​ // @mountainsforwords​ // @t-hollanderr​

everything taglist: @spidermanlondon​ // @duskholland​ // @tutuabby28​ // @missevrythingg​ // @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ // @thenoddingbunny-blog​ // @emilykjh​ // @clara-licht​ // @hollandfanficlove​ // @calltothewild​ // @crybabyalexxx​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @calsthomas​ // @quaksonhehe​ // @sinisterspidey​ // @thirzaholland // @tombrina​ // @outshineallthestars​ // @serendipitous-amor​ // @soincredible​ // @trustfundparker​ // @writertoo18​ // @viagracex​ // @skamlover200​ // @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ // @wehavetomakeourheartssitstill​ // @thearchersupremacy​ // @itstaskeen​ // @camimndess​ // @allyz​ // @technosoot​ // @fanficscuziranout​ // @parker-hollandx // @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ // @dangerouslovefanfic​ // @ertherealrose​ // @i-married-a-pineapple // @miraclesoflove​ // @bi-girlwrites-2000​ // @seasidetom​ // @katcontrreras​ // * * // @fallingforfics​ // @destinedbooklover // @parkerpeter24​ // @selfcarecap​ // @moonphoric // @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ // @emistrash​ // @badreputationlove​ // @turtoix​ // @haloxmendes​ // @anjalika03​ // @iamsherloki-wholocked​ // @the-fan-18​ // @white-wolf1940​ // @aidinniram​  // @heyhihellowhatsup0​ // @blackbat2020​ // @keithseabrook27​ // @annathesillyfriend​ // @hoodpankow​ // @practicallylivesonline​ // @keithseabrook27​ // @millennial-teenybopper​ // @beautifulrose0809​ // @parachutepanties​ // @jamiealenaa​ // @hallecarey1​

harrison osterfield taglist: @hjoficrecs​ // @lolychu​ // @hazardosterfield​ // @hollandbroz-n-haz​ // @emilyg453​

series taglist: @softholand​ // @svturtles​ // @cloverrover​ // @goodgirlgonetom // @justafangirlduh​ // @thegirlwiththediary​ // @beyond-the-ashes​ // @parkerbunny​ // @bearsbeetsbarnes​ // @keithseabrook27​

#harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield scenario #harrison osterfield fanfic

[sunlightandsuffering]

I have another btl hc. Mikasa is smart istg but so innocent at the same time and when Eren is fucking her, she just becomes a little dumb bitch. Eren loves how she can't say something coherent or how she cries bc his dick it's too big and she is trying to take it. So when he is really horny (all the time) he's breeding kink show up and start to ask her if she knows how the babies are made, she is to busy being fucked dumb and just say no with the head

Idk why a man explaining this to me while he is hitting makes me horny lmfo

STOP THIS IS SO HOT I LOVE IT!! NO I totally get u anon, something about being fucked so dumb u can't think just 🥵🥵 I think this might be better in corruption AU? Because in that one Mikasa is like crazy smart, she's only a little bit ditzy when it comes to Eren and I could totally see this happening especially bc Eren has his whole complex about secretly hating her. He'd be so happy if he fucked her so dumb she didn't know.

Eren doesn't know why this turns him on so much, probably some psychologically messed up crap but he can't help it, it's so hot. Smart, elite, prim Mikasa at his mercy, the smartest girl in their grade and his tutor, in his arms while he fucks her into the navy blue sheets of his bed. Her eyes are glassy, glazed over a bit, she's cum so many times now he can't blame her. The first when he'd eaten her out and then when he'd teased her with her vibrator until she screamed for him, and now as he hits her deep, every time, his fat cock disappearing inside her so easily, she's so sensitive, letting out these sweet little whimpers whenever he bumps at her cervix.

Eren leans in closer, one hand holding himself up above her while the other holds her leg up to his shoulder for better access and she cries as he stretches it back a little further, forcing himself deeper. He's close, so close, his stomach muscles twitching with how he holds back but he wants something, he's not entirely sure what until he opens his mouth, but Mikasa at his mercy is everything. "'M gonna cum inside you Miks."

She squints her eyes shut, nodding as she bites her lip, completely engulfed by the pleasure. He pushes just a little more, "Know what happens when I do that Mikasa?" Her eyes open up a little bit, tilting her head curiously and he hits her just right, she whines around him.

"Mikasa, I asked you a question?" He stops his motion, letting himself rest inside her for a second and it's so deliciously warm and tight, it's everything. She shakes her head aggressively, "No, Ren, please?" She doesn't even care, that's obvious and he smirks. "Baby so fucked out she doesn't know huh?"

She's still shaking her head, in the fog of lust and he moves just slightly, circling his hips, his cock moving inside her for her honesty and she sighs in relief.

"Should I tell you Miks? Tell my little slut how if I fuck her she'll get pregnant?" Mikasa nods, as soon as soon as she hears the phrase "fuck her" she's nodding so vehemently her whole body shakes. And Eren can't say no, not to her. He resumes a slow pace inside her, rocking into her all the way, his hips connecting with her, giving it to her deep so she can feel every precious inch of him, all that he's got to give.

"First baby, I fuck you nice and deep, make sure you're all wet for me, just like you are now." Her hands grip his arm for purchase, "Then," he picks up his pace, thrusting a little harder, "you start squeezing me, lets me know you want to take it, you want to take all my cum, fuck." He groans as he feels her walls contract around him, another orgasm for his pretty girl. she's convulsing in his arms and he doesn't care how overstimulated she is, he hits her womb every time, leaning in to whisper, "I fuck you so deep you can feel me in ur tummy yeah?In your womb, that's where I'm gonna put a baby."

He moves a hand down to rub at her stomach, slowing down again and Mikasa cries for him, "Eren please!" He's rubbing it so tenderly, his brain fogged with Mikasa, all nice and round with his kid, and he knows she's on birth control right now, but fuck one day.

He picks up his pace brutally, Mikasa basically permanently pressed into the bed, no escape, all she can do is take him, take his cock and nothing else. "Then baby, when I'm as deep as I can get," he groans as her hands tangle in his hair, "I give you all my cum, and you take it baby. All of it." And that's exactly what she does as Eren paints her walls white, shooting as deep as he can get, pulling her thighs up to tilt her hips back so she can keep it all inside. She might be on birth control now, but this is good practice for one day.

#lys's drabbles

[lilyclawthorne]

Hello i have offers for the kidnapping au

Agustín naturally feeling like it's his fault, and you know Alma doesn't love him too much so she definitely lets him hear that, then Félix snaps on him (on accident obviously because he's just upset) and him just being like. "Fuck it" and being completely reckless and not even trying to keep himself safe, just to save the triplets, and at "the moment of truth" instead of being clumsy he just. Freezes. Because he messed up in getting them kidnapped, he messed up in helping his mother in law, he messed up in helping Félix on the rescue mission, and he's suddenly so horrified to mess up again that he legitimately can't move to save his life.

But consider, when the rescue does happen one of the kidnappers going to shot someone and everyone is unable to act because if they do anything the person being aimed at will be shot on the spot (I'm thinking Félix perhaps because Agustín got their plan failing earlier) and he shoots and... Nothing happens. Kidnapper looks around in bewilderment and Agustín holds up the thingie that holds the bullets like "yeah, no" and now it's kidnappers with no guns vs. kids with superpowers and my man gets redemption arc

Like i also imagine he's the only one around actually knowing how to use a gun from the Encanto, he really didn't want to because it's accident prone Agustín, he knows he'll fuck up, but after Félix snaps at him he just hopes he'll fuck up in a self destructive way and not outwards thus going in for solo gun rescue instead of using his brain (because he probably knows that ideally no one should go alone, i don't think he would go in gun swinging as a first option. I think he'd be this reckless and stupid only after things pile up, over and over again being blamed by others and by himself into thinking his own safety isn't important)

Like idk he's clumsy, not dumb, i think he needs to be severely hurt to go make such a dumb decision like going in alone with a weapon he barely can handle

I’m gonna answer all of your asks in one go and just gonna put a read more

Agustín is almost certainly going to feel a LOT of misplaced guilt. Emotions are gonna be running REAL high and there’s a lot of anger and blame that people are looking to put on someone and he’s an easy target. (I also imagine Mirabel can empathize with him at some point in the middle of all this, feeling like is your fault the family is hurting and she would try very hard to help him understand he’s not at fault, but it’s never that easy is it?)

I do like the idea that he’d get impulsive and actually be the one to go first. It’s a more reckless and in the moment decision, that could better lead to the rest of the chaos and angst that follows.

I also love the idea of badass city boy Agustín having removed the bullets. Only one in the family who can work a gun, and completely unsuspected that he could swap something like that because of how clumsy he is.

I feel like at this point is where Félix would get a little impulsive, he’s probably been making a plan already but now another person is gone and could get killed so he’s rushing to find Agustín before he gets too far away, partially to back him up, partially because he regrets what he said already.

I kinda hate Alma getting nasty like that, like at this rate we’re gonna break casita again. But also emotions are running high and it’s not surprising people would lash out instead of addressing their own emotions.

I could see Dolores telling the other grandkids what she heard, and them trying to find a way to comfort him because honestly I think they’d be a little better at understanding not to immediately place blame. I mean this man literally went through a whole other trauma by witnessing them getting taken, and that’s not his fault. But by the time they try and find him and reach out, he’s gone.

I also really think if Alma said those things to him, and after everything happens, that if Julieta would find out she’d be very upset with her mother, and would have a hard time forgiving her afterwards. I imagine none of the triplets would blame him when this is all over

#ask #robin-in-a-hoodie #kidnapping tw

[gummygowon]

regretful jellyfish | jeong yunho

word count: 1.3k

genre: angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friend yunho x fem. reader

best friends au!

warnings: kind of cheating? (if there's more pls let me know)

song recommendation: restless by bibi & cigarette by offonoff

a/n: this is inspired by my friends and because we can't go to prom this year :(

highschool prom, the one school event you’ve been looking towards to ever since you watched high musical 3. this year's prom theme was something that you were surprisingly looking forward to which was 'under the sea' and located at the city's aquarium. a night of dancing next to fish and sharks with your friends and prom date was something even more than middle school you ever dreamed of.

so far everything has been according to plan, your hair looked gorgeous and your outfit and makeup looked absolutely stunning. and to make things even better, you got asked out by your long time crush, jeong jaehyun. you’ve been crushing on that dude since sophomore year and now in your senior year you finally have a chance to be more than just friends.

yeah, you’ve heard all of the warnings from your friends telling you not to fall for such a playboy but you couldn’t help yourself and his damn smile didn’t help either. so when jaehyun asked you out with a poster and flowers, you almost died from shock right on the spot.

however, your best friend yunho, was the complete opposite of shock. he was more disgusted or maybe even jealous that jaehyun was the one asking you out. yunho heard all the dirty things he did with girls and how he was douchebag to almost everyone which is what made him wary of your friendship with the latter. it also didn’t help that yunho also had feelings for you but he was too much of coward to ever confess. but yunho was only your best friend. best friend...

so if jaehyun made you happy then he would have to bury his feelings even further. sure, it upset him but jaehyun had balls to ask you out which he didn’t have and now the lucky bastard got the girl.

unfortunately, you really should’ve listened to your friends because as soon you guys walked into prom together, jaehyun was already flirting with another girl. you didn’t even bother trying to wrangle him back to you. once he was with a girl, there was no way of getting him back.

with the night already off to a shitty start, you wandered away from the crowd and ventured deeper into the aquarium. you reached the dead end of one of the 'hall of fishes' exhibit which was a big circled room with never ending glass walls full of different marine species swimming inside.

you leaned against the railing, zoning out. how could you be so stupid? there was no way you could have changed him. once a fuck boy always a fuck boy, you idiot.

tears began forming in your eyes the more you thought about the situation. you couldn't cry over some bitch boy. he wasn't worth it. no matter how many hours you spent blushing over him, he wasn't worth it. more thoughts came into your mind like a dumb animal walking into a trap. thoughts that reminded you how dumb you were, pushing you closer and closer to actually crying.

that is until you heard someone enter the room, you sniffled quietly and brought a finger to your eyes, catching any water droplets.

"did you know that jellyfish don't have a brain?" a familiar voice asked.

a smile appeared on your face for the first time this night, "didn't i tell you that?"

ever since your school revealed the theme for prom and venue, you've been spewing out random ocean facts to yunho in pure excitement.

"yeah, you also told me that sharks the only fish to have eyelids." yunho added on, a grin on his face too.

"so you were paying attention to me." you teased as you bumped his arm with your shoulder.

"of course i did, when do i not?"

you laughed at his response before returning your gaze back to the jellyfish swimming around. you weren't sure if yunho knew what happened with jaehyun but he probably found out somehow. he always did.

"why aren't you with your date? the slow dance is coming up soon and i know you've been waiting for it." your best friend asked, he didn't know why he was trying so hard to make sure you and jaehyun worked out or at least for the night. he just wanted you to be happy. to be happy with the guy that you've been crushing on for years. to have this night feel like a dream.

"he left me." you answer bluntly, before turning your gaze back to yunho. guess he didn't know.

"oh. i'm so sor-"

"don't even bother," you wave your hand in the air, shooing away the apology. "i should've listened to you guys anyways."

yunho stood there in silence, staring at a particular blue tang, not knowing what to say. he couldn't just confess right now, that would be inappropriate and selfish of him. usually, he was good at comforting his friends but comforting his crush after they got rejected by the guy they've been pinning after for years was something he didn't know how to do.

"you can go back, the slow dance must be starting soon." you said after breaking the silence. "i don't wanna ruin your night too."

yunho's heart was beating faster as his mind was violently urging him to ask you to dance or just say something. "it's okay, i don't wanna leave you alone."

you were about to argue for him to go back but you decided against it and smiled back instead, looking back at the fish swimming back and forth with the kelp swaying in the back.

the two of you were in a peaceful silence, looking at the aquatic animals thinking different things.

your mind was yelling at you for being a dumbass and believing that you would be the one to change a fuck boy's mind while yunho's was yelling at him for being a coward.

if he just confessed to you before jaehyun ever came into the picture, you wouldn't be here on the brink of tears on the one event you've been waiting for since you were seven. you guys could be slow dancing together, problem-free and regret-free.

from the distance, you guys could hear the dj's loud voice drift into the room, "ladies and gents, gather your partners because it's time to slow it down!" loud ooo's and cheers joined in right after.

"may, i have this dance m'lady?" yunho asks with his heart beating out of his chest and cheeks flushing a faint red.

a bright smile appears on your face as you take his hand, "of course, sir."

as soon yunho brought you closer to him, you realize how much he's been there for you ever since you guys became friends. memories flooded your head, almost bringing you tears of happiness. you pulled yunho even closer to your body, burying your head into his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist tighter.

slowly but gracefully, you guys swayed to the distant slow song with thoughts full of regret. regret about not confessing sooner and regret about not listening to your friends.

the longer you danced, the more you thought about how much your best friend was the better option. in a way, it made you feel selfish for thinking of yunho as just a choice leading you to thinking that he deserved a better partner than you. someone who could cherish him from the start and all the way to the very end.

yunho, on the other hand wanted this moment to last forever. slow dancing in the dark with his crush, as he held onto you like you were the only thing that matter. if he couldn't have you like this for himself, then he would have to make sure moments like these lasted. sure, it was a little self-centered of him but this was the price had to pay for waiting.

the price of waiting: a dance with the girl he wants but she had her heart set on someone else.

and the price of this dance with this boy: the girl realizes she's been in love with him this whole time.

#yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho oneshots #yunho drabble #yunho imagine #yunho oneshot #yunho imagines #yunho drabbles #yunho angst #yunho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshots #ateez oneshot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez au #ateez x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez angst oneshot #ateez angst oneshots #ateez angst drabble #yunho angst oneshot #yunho angst oneshots #yunho angst drabble #yungo angst scenario #kpop oneshots #kpop oneshot

[corysmiles]

Though I love your friendly giant au, my fave angsty idea abt is that Ranboo fears he will one day be too large to interact with his human friends. Could you maybe do a story or hcs abt Ranboo finally admitting his fear or talking to Tubbo abt it? Or maybe him having a nightmare abt it? Your an amazing writer and if youre too busy just take this as my appreciation for your work<3

mmmmm angst, I hope you like it :] 💛

(I was gonna edit but I’m very tired so there may be some mistakes)

——————————

But What If He Can’t

Friendly Giant AU

cw//angst, hurt/comfort, langauge

——————————

It was always the worst when Ranboo was alone. After Tubbo had already left and his only company was just a small piglin and a cow, that’s when his anxieties exploded.

And the small chalk dashes on the wall marking his growth didn’t make him feel any better. It was a sign of Tubbo sure, but it also was a reminder of his nightmares. Each dash showed how much taller he’d grown...how much closer he got to his fears being real.

And god they always hurt the worst when Tubbo wasn’t there. When there was no concrete way for him to prove to himself that he could still love Tubbo. That he wasnt a danger to the people he cared so much about.

Carefully with tears eyes he picked up Michael in his hands. The sleeping boy barely even moved, just grabbing onto Ranboo’s thumb with his small hands.

“Pa?” He grumbled.

Ranboo smiled sadly at the piglin and pulled him closer with a hum.

“It’s alright Michael, go back to sleep.”

After a few seconds he felt the piglin curl back up in his hands to rest. The small weight was the only thing grounding Ranboo in the moment, away from his fears. When he heard the piglin’s soft snores he let himself relax, he wasn’t going to hurt him. It was only a few minutes before Ranboo fell asleep, only to be woken up when Tubbo arrived for the night.

————————

Tubbo was more than a little surprised when he entered the den only to find Ranboo still asleep. Usually the giant was already up playing with Michael when he got there and tubbo didn’t think he’d arrived early.

“Boo?” He called out softly. The giant’s eyes flickered but didn’t open.

With a huff Tubbo grabbed onto the fur on Ranboo’s arm and pulled himself up. By the time he got to the giant’s chest he was completely out of breath.

“Ranboo, get up!”

“Ah!” Ranboo yelped as his eyes flashed open. His tail whipped forward aggressively but as soon as his gaze landed on Tubbo he froze. A lazy grin spread across his face at the sight of his human.

“Dude why are you sleeping still? Are you sick?” Tubbo asked.

The giant shook his head and pulled Tubbo closer to his face. “Just didn’t feel that great.”

Tubbo tilted his head and gently rubbed a hand against Ranboo’s nose. As always a soft purr vibrated against his fingers.

“Did something happen big man?”

Ranboo’s smile fell. “No...just me being dumb.”

“Hey, you’re not dumb Boo you’re brain is huge,” Tubbo joked.

Ranboo scoffed and pushed Tubbo over with his nose. He tumbled a bit but before he could actually fall Ranboo caught him in his fingers.

Tubbo laughed wildly before his smile fell,“Seriously though Boo what’s up?”

“Nothing really-“

“No none of that, talk to me,” Tubbo said.

Ranboo took a deep breath, his ears twitched back nervously.

“Just afraid...”

“Of what?” Tubbo pushed.

“Uh...me”

Tubbo glared at the giant in confusion. “What the fuck do you mean ‘me’? Don’t tell me you have some sorta identity crisis while I was gone.”

“No Tubbo, I just-ugh” Ranboo groaned, covering his face with his hand.

Tubbo pushed against his fingers stubbornly. “Come on talk to me.”

“Fine! I’m afraid I’m gonna get taller Tubbo,” Ranboo finally snapped, “Aright?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Ranboo grumbled while curling in on himself.

“I have no idea how much taller I’m gonna get and what if one day I get- I don’t know- what if I’m too big?”

“What do you mean too big?” Tubbo asked jokingly, “You’re already bigger than my house big man.”

“Yeah but I mean what if it’s like impossible for me to touch you,” Ranboo whispered, “What if I can’t see you anymore or I’m too strong and I hurt you...Tubbo I couldn’t handle that.”

Tubbo frowned and walked closer to his friends worried face. When he was only a few inches away from Ranboo’s eye he sat down and gave him a soft smile.

“Ranboo,” Tubbo reassured, “You won’t hurt me...And if one day you did get too big I’d still find a way to talk to you, promise. Even if I have to fucking crawl in your ear for you to hear me. Do you really think you can get rid of me that easily?”

Ranboo scoffed and let a tear roll down his eye. The wet path just missed Tubbo by a hair but the boy barely moved.

“Ranboo...I know it sucks but try not to worry about it right now alright?”

Ranboo opened his mouth to speak but Tubbo was already shushing him.

“No no, no thinking about it, that just makes it worse,” Tubbo scolded, “Everything’s okay right now see? I’m here and I’m not fucking going anywhere big man.”

Ranboo let a small smile cross his lips before he brought his hand up to Tubbo questioningly. The human nodded and let him be picked up in his hand. When Tubbo was firmly pressed against his chest he finally let his fears wash away.

Even if one day he couldn’t hold Tubbo, he could then. So he’d make the most of it.

#friendly giant au #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #corywrites #g!ranboo #t!tubbo #fluff #hurt/comfort

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 6

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. It just wasn’t possible, not when your mind was still going 500 miles per hour replaying every little detail of your time together in Baekhyun’s office. The way he sucked on the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, how you felt him dig into your hip as he’d sandwiched you between himself and the wall. Your entire stomach felt like it might leave your body if you didn’t get a hold of yourself. What end it would come out of, you had yet to decide on. 

The night dragged on and on and eventually you gave up, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Sleep was not an option when your brain felt like it was running a marathon with you powerless to stop it. The thought just would not stop. Your own hormone filled brain had you by the balls.

Eventually you dragged your groggy self into the shower in an attempt to wake back up. The second you felt the hot water pour over your skin, you felt some of the tension in your muscles dissipate. It was like you could finally breathe deeply again, the heat forcing your body to relax, at least physically.

 By the time you were out of the shower it was around 5:00am. When you stepped out and began to dry yourself off you noticed the trail of dark purple marks going all the way from your neck down to your collarbones. Damn genetics for making you bruise so easily. You internally cursed yourself for letting him leave marks on you at all, but of course that had been the last thing on your mind in the moment. Mia would immediately have something to say when she saw them too, and you were not ready to recant the events of the night prior out loud to her. 

Seeing as it was already the early morning you decided it would be best to just get ready and get out of the house so you wouldn’t have to face her yet. You did your usual routine, and decided that after all the stress you’d been through in the last several hours, you’d treat yourself to breakfast at your favorite bakery. It was a quaint little place only a few blocks away that had amazing croissants and coffee and you figured it would at least temporarily help block out the crippling thoughts of his teeth grazing against the skin of your neck. Why the fuck did it have to feel that good?? 

You didn’t bother trying to cover the marks. It was far too warm still to wear anything like a turtleneck and you knew they were too dark for concealer to work. Damn his beautiful lips for creating something so visible yet so blasphemous.

After finishing your usual morning routine, you headed to the café and ordered your favorite. 

Croissant in hand, you were flipping through a book, sitting and enjoying your coffee when you heard your name, and looked up to see a familiar man, tall and slightly dorky looking, gazing down at you. 

“Yeah that's me, Chanyeol, right?” You asked.

“Yeah...” He stared down at you with an unreadable look on his face, and you wondered if he would force you to talk to him. You had only met Chanyeol once before, the first night he brought Baekhyun to your work. “Can I sit down?” 

“Uh... I guess. How do you know my name?” 

In all honesty you really did not want him to sit down with you. Of course he would want to talk about Baekhyun. You’d have rather poured your hot coffee down your pants than talked to him in that moment. This was exactly what you’d come here to avoid but the universe just had not been on your side lately. 

“Baekhyun told me. I’m glad I ran into you, I’ve never seen you here before, I always get my coffee here in the morning.”

“Well I’m usually not much of a morning person.” You replied, eyes on your coffee as you raised the mug to your lips, hoping it would magically invigorate you with the energy to have this conversation. It didn’t. 

“I actually need to talk to you about him.”

You immediately groaned in frustration. “Does this have to happen right now? I’m trying to have a relaxing morning and I’d really rather not talk about him right now.” You looked at him with a face that more or less said ‘please for the love of god just leave me alone’ but unfortunately for you he was quite determined, so he sat down across from you anyway. This stranger was really about to ruin your desperate attempt at a peaceful morning. 

“Just.. please be careful with him.” He started. “He’s the best person I know and he’s been through a lot recently. I don’t know what your intentions are with him but he likes you a lot and I don’t want to see him get hurt even more than he already has been.” 

You sighed. You could see where he was coming from. Anyone would be worried about their friend if they were in his situation. He probably thought you still only wanted Baekhyun’s money, that you were just the stripper who hit the jackpot with a guy who’s rich and nice. It was a realistic thing to be worried about. Customers like him were definitely the most profitable and girls would string them along all the time knowing how attached they were and take their money anyway. The more they thought they actually had a chance, the more they were generally willing to spend, too.  

“If you think I’m just using him for his money, I’m really not. I don’t know how much he’s told you, but last time he paid me I even tried to give it back.”

“Yeah he told me about that, so I figured you weren’t all bad, but still. And he talks to me about you a lot. It almost makes me regret bringing him to the club in the first place. If you end up screwing him over I’ll feel like it’s my fault too you know. That’s why I knew I had to say something when I saw you.” 

“You’re a good friend. But you really don’t need to be worried.” 

He raised an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. “Does he know you’re seeing other people?” 

You gave him a puzzled look, but quickly understood when his eyes drifted down to the marks decorating the skin of your neck. You knew he was only asking to protect his friend, but the accusing look on his face irked you anyway. Blood was already rushing to your cheeks at the thought of having to tell him where they’d really come from. 

“I, um, I’m actually not seeing other people...” You crossed your arms over your chest, slumping down into your seat in a subconscious effort to hide. By now you knew you were probably red all over, easily giving you away. The feeling of dread made its way back into your stomach, and your croissant didn’t even seem appealing to you anymore. “You haven’t talked to him since last night have you?” 

 His eyes went so wide you worried for a moment that they might pop right out of his skull and roll across the table and into your lap. 

“Did he..?” You nodded slowly, desperately trying to avoid giving him any of the thrilling details. “You guys slept together? You didn’t just come from his place did you? You didn’t just leave? I swear to god if you-”

“No!” You quickly clarified. “We didn’t sleep together, and I never went to his house, we just, um..” Your guts felt like they were about to end up on the table again, but Chanyeol was still looking at you expectantly. “I needed help with an assignment so I went to his office last night... we kissed, but that’s all.” 

“Quite some kiss it seems...” He said staring at the path of blue and purple that went all the way from below your ear to the hem of your shirt. And oh how he was right. It really had been something. Never in your life had a kiss affected you as much as Baekhyun’s had. Of course it had been much much more than just one little kiss, but there was no way you were going to say any more. The feeling of your stomach desperately trying to escape your body was too strong and you liked this café too much to get kicked out for vomiting all over the booth. 

“I thought more was gonna happen but he kind of threw me out of his office before we could, you know...” 

“He threw you out?” 

“Yeah, like grabbed my arm, dragged me into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him.” 

“Jesus what a dumbass.” You heard him whisper. “Do you like him the same way he likes you though?” You hesitated for a moment, but nodded again, and immediately noticed how his face lit up. “You know I really thought you were just going with it for the money. I’m glad you actually care about him as a person.” 

 “I mean I’ve known him a while now, how could I not...” You found yourself staring down at your hands as you fidgeted nervously, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you. “Even if he wasn’t my professor now, he’s still just a good guy. I’ve never had a customer like him before. As dumb as it is, I’d be stupid not to like him, he makes it too easy.”

At that point Chanyeol was smiling widely back at you. “He’s an amazing guy, and he’s crazy about you. You won’t regret it.” A smile plastered itself onto your face as well, satisfied with his comment. “You know at first when me and the other guys found out he was coming back to see you every weekend we gave him so much shit.” 

You laughed, because you could imagine it perfectly. It honestly was quite stupid of him to get involved with a stripper of all people. You saw how many times guys would try to start something real with you or the other girls at your work only to leave with a broken heart and empty pockets, but that was just a part of your job. When you were first starting out you’d feel bad for them sometimes, but eventually you got used to it. These men weren’t exactly the pinnacle of society anyway, you told yourself. It didn’t help that those guys were always willing to spend more money too. They were really just screwing themselves over. It’s silly to expect anything real from a woman whose job it is to take money in exchange for temporary affection. Technically Baekhyun was also just another one of those stupid men who got themselves in too deep with someone completely unattainable, only now you actually liked him too.

“He is an idiot for that, for sure, but I’m just as much of an idiot for liking him back so I guess he won.” You laughed together, and you were beginning to feel much more at ease with him and with the conversation, thank heavens. 

“Thanks for letting me sit down, you really have no idea how much of a relief this is.” You rolled your eyes, you hadn’t allowed him to do anything, he’d just done it anyway. “I was so worried I got him into something that would hurt him even more. Women tend to really fuck him over.” 

His last statement puzzled you. Was he talking about Baekhyun’s ex? Sure what she did was awful, but had things really ended that badly? From the brief talk you’d had with him about her he didn’t seem to be that affected anymore but that was only one conversation. 

“Can I ask what the deal is with his ex?” Chanyeol leaned back, crossing his arms. His brows were furrowed, looking agitated by your question. “Sorry if that’s too far but I feel like that’s kind of important and I know almost nothing about her.” 

“She’s fucking bitch is all you need to know.” He scoffed. “They were together for 4 years and the whole time she treated him like a doormat. I never liked her. But it’s not really my place to talk.” 

“Oh... Sorry for asking, It’s just I found some pictures on Facebook when I looked him up. They looked really happy, she’s really pretty too.” You felt slightly embarrassed at your own words, but the curiosity was killing you. 

“Sure she looks nice but she’s a goddamn demon on the inside and they definitely weren’t happy, although she loved to make it look like they were so their families would keep being supportive. He deserves someone who actually gives a shit about him as a person, and not just what he can offer them. He cares about the people around him too much sometimes. Even when she’d treat him like shit he’d make excuses for her, saying she was dealing with things too, or some other bullshit.” 

Your heart ached. “Was he really upset when she left?”

You heard him let out a disappointed sigh, and knew the answer was yes. “Of course he knew she was only trying to use him for his money at that point, he’s not stupid, but when you’ve spent years of your life trying to make something work it still sucks when it ends. His parents really liked her too, they would get onto him all the time about why he hadn’t married her yet or given them grandkids. Thank god he didn’t. I think that’s what made it really sting when she left though. She didn’t just betray him she betrayed them too.” 

“What a bitch...” You were in disbelief that anyone could treat someone as wonderful as him so cruelly. The idea of him having possibly married her made you feel sick all over again.

“Yeah, she’s pretty much a megacunt. Thank god you seem to have a conscience.” He joked.

“I’m not gonna hurt him if I can help it. He’s so sweet I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I did.” 

“Well I’m glad to hear it.” He gave you a deep-dimpled smile and you laughed. “I’ll leave you alone now, I have work to get to, but thank you again for talking to me.”

“No problem.” You smiled back. “Hopefully you like me better than her already.” You joked. 

“That doesn’t take much” he laughed “but yes, definitely.” He got up and waved you goodbye, leaving you to enjoy the rest of your breakfast. 

In the end you were glad you’d run into him. You hadn’t given much thought to what Baekhyun’s friends might think about you, but it was a relief that the person closest to him didn’t just think you were using him for his money anymore. Obviously everything about your relationship with Baekhyun looked terrible on paper, and being able to explain your intentions made it feel like there was weight lifted off your chest that you hadn’t even known was there. 

~

Baekhyun woke up to his phone blowing up with messages from Chanyeol. Unlike you, he’d slept like a baby once the excitement of the evening had worn off a bit. 

Chanyeol: (7:23am) Just got done talking to your new gf, you seemed to have a fun night. About time you finally made a move on her.   

Chanyeol: (7:46am) You better call me when you wake up and tell me what the hell went down though. 

Chanyeol: (8:37am) Dude you’re killing me 

Baekhyun groaned when he read the messages, mind immediately thinking about all the embarrassing things Chanyeol could’ve possibly told you. Of course he talked to his best friend about you all the time, but you didn’t need to know that. His hands felt clammy as he began typing out a response

Baekhyun: (9:04am) What the hell did you guys talk about??? 

Chanyeol: (9:06am) She didn’t need to say much, you made things pretty clear with the way you attacked her neck, that shit looked intense. Good for you bro. 

Baekhyun quickly dialed his friend’s number, and not even one ring in he picked up. 

“What the fuck?” Baekhyun started, a bit too loud for how early it still was. “Why were you talking to her? What did you say to her? I swear to god if you told her some dumb shit I’m gonna-” 

“Relax! You know I’m a good wingman! I ran into her at the café and just wanted to make sure she wasn’t still leading you on for the money or anything so we talked for a little while. But she seems to genuinely care about you, I think she likes you a lot actually.” 

Baekhyun felt his heart skip a beat at his friend’s statement. Of course he figured you liked him after what had happened in his office, especially since you’d said it to him directly, but the fact that you had discussed your feelings for him with his best friend made it feel even better. He still thought that maybe you’d regret it in the morning, or it was just hormones that led you to act the way you did.

“What did she say?” 

“Well at first I thought she’d let someone else mark her up like that so I called her out, but then she told me what happened in your office last night. Well, sort of.” 

“Sort of?” 

“She didn’t seem to really want to talk about it in detail so I didn’t make her, but any girl would have to be crazy about a guy to him them maul their neck like that. I thought y’all had gotten into some weird BDSM shit at first. And why the fuck did you kick the poor girl out of your office? Are you dumb? You were totally about to get some.” 

“Because we were in my office.” 

“So? That’s pretty hot if you ask me.” 

“I just... I like her too much to end up fucking on the desk in my office like some sort of horny animal. I need to do it right, she deserves that much.” 

“That’s up to you, but man you must have some serious self control. She’s really hot.” 

“Watch it buddy.” Baekhyun said, trying to sound as threatening as one can over the phone. “What else did she tell you?”

“That was pretty much it about last night, she did ask about Jisoo though. I’m telling you she’s into you if she wants to know about your ex.” 

Even just the mention of her was enough to sour Baekhyun’s good mood. 

“What did you tell her about her?” 

“That I think she’s a massive bitch, obviously. And that you deserve better than that.”

Baekhyun stayed silent. He knew Chanyeol was right of course, she wasn’t a good person and he was better off now without her in his life but the way he talked about her still bothered him. 

“You don’t have to call her a bitch every time she comes up, I know she’s far from perfect but she’s still a person you know.” 

“Why are you even defending her? She fucked you up. And you actually seem to have found a girl who isn’t going to step all over you this time. So don’t ruin it.” 

“I’m not going to. Or at least I’m gonna try my best. I like this girl a lot.” 

“I know, you never shut the hell up about her. And she likes you enough to be stressing about your ex, so relax. She’s into you.” 

A small smile pulled at Baekhyun’s lips. After all this time, you really did like him. How fucking cool was that? The hottest girl at the strip club, who he’d fallen head over heels for like some dumb kid, was into him for real now. 

“Thanks bro, I needed to hear that.” 

“I know, I’m the best. So when are you asking her out?” 

Baekhyun felt stupid for not having considered that yet. Technically he was still just your professor/customer with benefits, but that definitely wasn’t the title he wanted to keep forever. 

“Shit I don’t know... Where do I even take her? What do I do? I haven’t had to do this in years.” 

“She’s a college student, I’m sure a nice dinner would impress her enough. You just have to do better than those greasy kids she goes to school with.” Chanyeol suggested casually, but Baekhyun wasn’t having it. 

“I want to do something special, not just some lame dinner. I’m sure she’s had plenty of college boys take her out to expensive restaurants with daddy’s money before. I have to do better than that.”  He was pacing now, trying to think of what the hell people even did for first dates aside from get food or see a movie. 

“Do something different then, drive her out into the country and prepare a nice picnic or something and watch the sunset together, girls love romantic shit like that.” 

“First I have to ask her out though, maybe I should bring some chocolate and flowers too. I want it to be perfect. And for her to say yes.”

“I know you’ll do great, don’t worry about it too much, she already likes you anyway. She’s gonna say yes. Just don’t say anything weird and she’ll totally fall in love with you.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

“I’m always right.”

It was getting later and later in the morning and Baekhyun needed to actually start getting work done, so he ended the call there. 

He had come up with some ideas for the date throughout the day, but they would all require quite some planning. He was going to do whatever he could to make sure you were thoroughly swept off your feet, he wouldn’t accept anything less than that. 

First though, he had to make sure you’d agree to go at all. 

~

The rest of your Thursday was spent more or less successfully getting Baekhyun off your mind with various school work and other mundane tasks. You’d stayed on campus, still avoiding Mia but eventually your classes were over and you needed to get back home. You knew you’d have to face her eventually anyway and at least now you’d had enough time to chill out about it a little.

Unfortunately for you Mia was in the living room when you entered the apartment, and within seconds her eyes traveled to your neck and she squealed with delight. 

“Y/N!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOU FINALLY GOT SOME DICK.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” You responded, cringing and taking your shoes before going to sit with her on the couch. 

“But something happened! Tell me everything!!”    

So you did. Right down to his dick stabbing you through his pants and how he kicked you out of his office. Unlike Chanyeol, you knew she wouldn’t leave you alone until she knew everything, and in great detail, so you didn’t hold back. 

You felt all the emotions from the previous night rushed back to you as you got into the intricacies of the kiss itself. This was exactly what you knew would happen, and why you’d been avoiding it. The whole time Mia just stared and nodded, seemingly fascinated by your thrilling tale. You were thankful she hadn’t made fun of you at all for how flustered you were getting while talking about it. 

When you were finally done retelling everything, she didn’t speak. Instead she pulled you into a tight hug. 

“You like him a lot, I can tell. And he has a lot of respect for you if he had enough self control to make you leave before more could happen. I think he could be really great for you.” She pulled back to look at you, keeping both hands on your shoulders. “And I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like that before.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone the way I like him. He’s not some college boy, he’s a real man. It just feels different. Much more... real.” 

“Do you want something real with him? More than just a fling?” You nodded. “Do you think he’ll ask you out on a real date?” 

“I hope so.” 

“I hope so too. I’m sure he’ll come up with something amazing for you guys.” She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder in excitement. 

You felt elated to finally have gotten everything off your chest. Talking about it really hadn’t been that bad, if anything it only strengthened how you felt for him.

“I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” You asked, letting yourself fall backwards to lay across the couch. 

“Duh. You found a super cute, nice, and rich guy who thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Any girl would envy you.” Her eyes went wide, and you could practically see the lightbulb manifest itself and flicker on over her head. “He has hot friends right?” 

You laughed, amused by her usual boy craziness. “Yeah, he has some pretty cute friends but I don’t really know any of them, give me some time and I’ll report back to you if any of them are available.” 

For some reason, you didn’t tell her about your conversation with Chanyeol. Maybe it was what he’d said about Baekhyun’s ex that was still hanging in the back of your mind, but it didn’t seem like something you needed to bring up to her now anyways. 

“Well, please do let me know.” She responded, grinning, getting up from the couch and making her way into the kitchen. 

“Aye aye captain.” You shot a thumbs up at her from the couch, giggling. 

She ended up cooking dinner for the both of you, and you spent the rest of the evening collectively fantasizing about what sort of extravagant outing he’d take you on once he asked you on an official date. 

You couldn’t wait.  

Next Chapter

A/N: Just wanna say I love Jisoo and used her name purely to convey the characters appearance! She in no way represents the real Jisoo who is obviously a wonderful girl :)  also if the spacing is weird on mobile I blame the fact that I wrote this on my laptop 🥴 sorry

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fic #exo fic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fluff

[min-youngis]

Boom - p.jm

monkey brain said make a banner on your own u hussy

~ Pairing : Park Jimin x Reader (entrepreneur x software company intern, dance partners au)

ft. Best Friend/Roommate! Jungkook and Brother! Yoongi

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour, a very very very tiny smidgen of Angst

~ Rating : R (some suggestive descriptions, a fair amount of swearing and scary adult themes like money)

~ Summary : When Jimin leaves your little trio at the age of ten when his family moves away, you and Jungkook think that's the end of it, and you're never going to see your best friend again. But cut to twelve years later and suddenly your dance class is home to the prettiest man you've ever seen (again), who happens to be your friend's business partner and also...your new dance partner? Your friends think you're dumb, but you can confirm you're dumber.

Childhood Friends to Strangers to Lovers

~ Wordcount : 29.3k (🤡)

~ Warnings : swearing, some suggestive descriptions, mild alcohol consumption, excruciatingly slow burn, inaccurate depictions of internships and company establishment, emotional constipation, badly dealt with feelings, i-like-attention-but-i-don’t-like-people y/n, people who say please and thank you and excuse me and sorry are really fucking attractive, dissociation as a coping mechanism, overthinking as an instinct

~ A/N : no a/n this time ladies i'm all out of words. this has been two months in the making. muchos gracias to @ghostiemakingposties​ and @thedorkyfork​ for helping me figure out the timelines/logistics and making the plot make a semblance of sense :D thank you, that is all, i am ti r e d.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

2008

“My mom says we’re moving.”

He says it with all the innocence of somebody who’s completely clueless about how permanent a shift like that is, blissfully ignorant in his ten-year-old self. Over the buzzing of a bee somewhere nearby, you can hear a door shut as Jungkook runs into the house, screaming for food.

Squinting against the sunlight that filters in through the rustling canopy overhead, hitting your eyes abruptly every time that one particular leaf moves in the summer breeze, you ask, “Where are we going?”

There’s a quizzical tone in his voice when he replies slowly. “I don’t think you’re coming. Mom didn’t say anything about you coming.”

You turn your head towards him, facing his body that’s mirroring your own, laid out on the grass that smells like summer, hands and legs spread languidly because time is forever and you have nothing to do but breathe and laugh and live. Your messy pigtail pushes into the side of your head painfully, but you ignore the uncomfortable sensation, eyes widening as you fix him with a stare.

“What do you mean, I’m not coming?”

Chewing his lip worriedly, he says, “I think she means we’re moving moving.”

“It’s a scam.”

“It’s a what?”

“A scam,” you repeat decisively, turning back to face the sky, closing your eyes again and feeling powerful as you explain your new found knowledge to an eager crowd of one. “Yoongi taught me. He said that when dad tells him he won’t get dinner unless he washes up after basketball, he’s being scammed and that adults tell lies sometimes to make us do what they want us to do. He said it’s progapanda.” You, Jimin and Jungkook know that your four-years-older-than-you brother knows everything.

“Panda?” Jimin asks doubtfully.

Sagely, you nod. “Yeah. We’re being raised to be brainless machines and slaves to the catapultists.”

“What are catapultists?”

Shrugging, you reply, “No idea. But Yoongi says they’re really bad. Anyway, your mom is probably scamming you. You’re not really moving.”

“No?” he asks, hopeful tilt in his voice.

“Nope,” you blithely respond.

You hear the grass underneath his head faintly rustle as he nods in relieved affirmation, and he goes back to closing his eyes towards the bright sky.

Jimin moving. It’s laughable. Adults, you think ruefully, shifting so you can feel the warm sun on your face. Some things are permanent. Like Mr. Kibum, your dance teacher who’s taught you your entire life, and the flowers that your mom keeps in the vase on top of the shoe rack that look shockingly real for plastic. Like Yoongi's basketball that he got when he was selected for the school team and is too big for you to hold, but with which he taught you how to dribble anyway, and like the large tree in Jungkook’s backyard that you’re lying underneath right now, waiting for him to come back from the house with lemonade.

And like Jimin, who’s just always there. Even when you don’t particularly want him to be, like that one time he had come over when you were crying four years ago because Yoongi was going to middle school and you both wouldn’t be in the same bus anymore. You had been so embarrassed because Yoongi was just standing there and laughing at you, but Jimin had said that he wouldn’t tell anybody and you had believed him, because it’s Jimin.

“And anyway, Kook and I won't let you leave.”

He snickers next to you. “How are you going to stop my mom?”

“We'll cry,” you reply simply, shrugging as much as you can in your laid down position. “I do it all the time to get stuff at home. Yoongi hates it, he calls it my younger sibling privilege, whatever that means.”

He doesn’t sound very convinced when he asks, “Will it work?”

Behind you, you hear the repeated thud of Jungkook running and his mother shouting, “Slow down! You’ll end up spilling it all and I’m not going to make another bottle.”

With a grin at Jimin, you say, “Watch,” as you sit up and turn towards an excitedly jogging Jungkook and as he approaches the tree.

“I have lemonade!” he shouts loudly, lifting the glass bottle up.

But you’re more focused on Mrs. Jeon and the platter full of mini sandwiches she’s holding. The yellow, sunflower shaped digital watch on your wrist reads 12:37 PM, roughly the time at which your mother usually calls whichever house you’ve spent the morning in and asks you to come home for lunch. The plan forms in your brain. Time to show Jimin the power of tears.

“Y/N, dear, your mother just called. She wants you back home after eating this, alright?”

Remembering Mr. Kibum's pre-performance advice (‘Deep breaths. You can’t put on a good show if your head isn’t fastened on tight.’), you summon all your strength and screw up your face, shutting your eyes and squeezing as hard as you can.

“What is she doing with her face?” you hear Jungkook ask. But it doesn’t distract you. You’ve just felt water behind your eyelids.

Opening your eyes wide again, you let your lower lip wobble with practiced precision, chin trembling.

“Oh, Mrs. Jeon, is there no way I could stay for a bit longer? Just ten extra minutes, I promise.”

To your delight, she immediately looks unsure, eyes slightly widening in surprise and concern.

“Oh! – oh, but of course you can. I’ll call your mother right now and let her know. And why don’t you take some of those sandwiches for the road too? There’s no need to cry, sweetheart, you can spend as long as you want here.”

You continue with your act until she’s back in the house and the door swings shut behind her, after which you immediately right your expression, grinning smugly. Grabbing a sandwich, you sit back down and look at a bemused Jungkook and an awed Jimin.

“And that’s how you do it,” you say, satisfied with their reactions and tuning them out as Jimin fills Jungkook in.

For people who have money, adults really are terribly stupid. Jimin moving, you think again, taking a big gulp of lemonade. The thought almost makes you laugh. As if.

2020

“Y/N, could you debug my code real quick?”

“Y/N, I need ten copies of this immediately.”

“Y/N, you’ll need to stay back for a bit today to finish the patch testing.”

You rush from cubicle to cubicle, sharing harried smiles with the other interns that you meet in the hallway, running around like you with equally stressed expressions on their faces. They may have been here a few weeks longer than you, but you doubt they’re having it any easier.

You’re about to slip back into your desk after submitting the copies to Hoseok so you can get started on debugging the code you’ve just been sent, when a ringing voice calls out from the room you’re jogging past.

“Y/N! Come in here for a second, please.”

Immediately, everybody around you freezes. Slowly, they inch away from the door that you’re standing outside. Wide eyed, you meet Hyejin's gaze worriedly from across the room. She looks just about ready to drop the tray of paper coffee cups she’s holding, but tries for an encouraging smile. It comes out more as a grimace. You see pitying stares around you and foolishly wait for a few seconds for some sort of divine intervention, for somebody else who shares your name to get up and enter the room instead.

“Y/N, I don’t have all day!”

From the cubicle on your left, Namjoon hisses, “Go! Before she gets mad.”

Pulling yourself together and squaring your shoulders, you turn and look at the half open door in front of you. A plaque on the wood reads ‘Kim Jennie – Head of Product Development'.

You place your fingers on the handle and hear a fervently muttered prayer from an intern standing behind you. With a deep breath, you plaster a polite smile on your face and push the door open.

“You had called for me?”

“Repeatedly.”

Off to a lovely start, then. You walk over to her desk, stopping when you’re a couple of feet from it. She doesn’t immediately look up from her laptop, choosing to let you stew, no doubt.

You’ve just started subconsciously picking at your nails when she deigns to look at you, slowly removing her glasses and placing them on the desk.

Twice before you’ve been called to her office. The first time was because you were subbing for her sick assistant and had messed up her coffee order. The second was when they needed an intern to sit in at a high profile meeting to shorthand the minutes and you were the nearest one they could find. Both times you had received an earful – the former got you a stern admonishment and the latter an equally strict warning to ‘make it legible, at the very least, if you can manage that’.

You wonder what you’ve done wrong this time. Wracking your brains, you come up empty. You’ve been much too busy with the subjects to fuck up for the queen.

“How has your time here been so far?”

“I'm sorry?” you ask in befuddlement, certain that you’ve misheard her.

There’s a flash of a tiny smile before her mask comes back on.

“I may be firm, but I’m not heartless. Being an intern at this company isn’t easy. I just want to know how you’ve been settling in for the last month.”

Realising that you’re gaping, you hurriedly shut your mouth before clearing your throat and replying, “I’ve been learning a lot and I’m glad to have the exposure.”

“Okay, now give me the non-textbook answer.”

“I’m sorry?” you ask again, simultaneously feeling thrown off and like a damn fool.

“This isn’t college anymore, Y/N. I’m not your professor. I’m your boss, and maybe, some day, your colleague. You’re our newest intern and I know it can get a little intense, so I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable.”

You look at her suspiciously. Is this some kind of sick, twisted test? But you take in her serious but kind eyes and decide that she’s being honest enough. Now or never.

“Can you allow interns to use the fancier copiers? They’re quicker than the ones on the second floor that we use now.”

You get a raised eyebrow and for one, terrifying second, you think she’s going to throw you out of her room, out of the building, out of the company and write an email to all the other software companies in the world telling them not to hire you.

“There is no rule stating that interns can’t use the copiers here. Have you been climbing floors every time you need to copy something?”

Before you can stop yourself, you ask, feeling like a broken record, “I’m sorry?”

She rolls her eyes and you feel like a chastised child. That’ll teach you a lesson about listening to your brother’s best friend.

“Will that be all? Any other...legitimate grievances?”

“Oh no, that’s all. I’ll be – er, going then.”

You get a lazily waving hand in response and consider yourself dismissed as Jennie puts her glasses back on and turns her attention to her laptop screen. About to pull open the door, you stop short as you hear from behind you, “Maybe actually read the company policy instead of talking to Hoseok, yes? Ask my assistant for a pamphlet. I dare say Yeonjun should be able to give you more reliable information.” You can swear you detect an amused smile in her voice.

A few hours later sees you as the centre of attention in a crowd around the coffee machine in the break room, regaling the interns around you with the latest.

“She did that for me too,” Hyejin says once you’ve finished your story, taking another sip of her coffee. “She does it for all the interns but it’s usually batch wise. You probably had to go it alone since you joined late.”

Shrugging, you reply, “Either way, it was terrifying.”

Soobin gives you a soothing pat on your shoulder. “At least that’s done with. Now you’ll only have to talk to her again if you fuck up spectacularly or if you’re really, really good.”

You nod mindlessly, biting off a piece of the canteen sandwich and chewing thoughtfully.

“Hey, Y/N! Managed to get fired before even getting hired?”

You spin around and see Hoseok and Namjoon cackling like a bunch of stupid hyenas along with some other employees. Pushing past a giggling Hyejin, you storm over, seeing red.

“Jung Hoseok. How dare you make me run around the damn building just to get some copies whenI didn’t even have to?”

You’re glaring at him now, looking up at his gleeful face.

“Oh my god, did you ask her about it? What did she say? Fuck, I wish I was there.”

Huffing, you reply with your arms crossed, embarrassed. “She told me to ask Yeonjun for the company policy pamphlet.”

He howls in delight, slapping a grinning Namjoon's back. “Ah, I can’t wait to tell Yoongi about this. He’s gonna have a field day.”

Unamused, you continue glowering at him. To your increasing annoyance, he looks completely unaffected, bringing a hand up to ruffle your hair, giving you flashbacks to when he used to come over to your house to hang out with Yoongi all those years ago. You have to admit, he was a great deal nicer then than he is now, snickering at your fuming expression. You aren’t ten years old anymore.

Narrowing your eyes one last time, you turn around on your heel and begin to walk away.

“Meet at the entrance at six today?”

You don’t verbally reply, still walking and flipping him off over your shoulder.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

“Yes,” you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear before you leave the room in the crowd of interns you had entered with. Lunch breaks are only so short and those codes aren’t going to debug themselves.

“You alright?”

“Peachy,” you sigh, rubbing a finger on your temple as you let your head rest on the window next to you.

“It’s intense, isn’t it?” Hoseok asks, eyes focused on the road in front of the car.

“Yeah. I didn’t expect it to be this heavy.”

Attempting for a cheery tone, he replies, “But, hey! A month! That’s great! Most interns usually burn out by then, but you’ve managed to stick around.”

It’s a small consolation and you tell him as much, mindlessly watching the darkening sky as you get closer to home and to dinner and to bed.

“You’re doing well,” he says comfortingly. “Just give it some time. If you got through college, you can get through this.”

“When did you get so wise?” you chuckle, turning your head to see his lips quirk up in a teasing smile.

“When you were off gallivanting on the other side of the country and I was a lowly intern, just like you are now.”

Sputtering, you reply, offended, “I was in college.”

“Yes, that’s what they all say,” he sighs in a mock-patronising tone. “What’s up with your friend, though, Hyejin? She seems cool.”

“She isn’t into you, don’t bother,” you reply shortly, knowing exactly what Hoseok is asking.

“Not what I meant.”

“Hmm, I’m sure. Purest of intentions, yeah?”

Pulling up next to the curb outside your apartment, he crosses his index finger over his heart and replies haughtily, “Now that I know I don’t have a chance, yes, actually.”

You snort, unbuckling your seat belt and twisting around so you can get your bag from the back seat.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, pushing the door open.

He smiles kindly in return as he waves off your gratitude and says instead, “Don’t do any work this weekend. Product rolling week starts on Monday and you’re gonna need all your energy.”

“Is it more intense than usual?”

“Unfortunately so,” he replies through the open door to your standing frame with a grimace. “It's fun work, though. Just tiring.”

Nodding with a sigh, you shut the passenger seat and give Hoseok a wave as he smiles at you and drives away.

You trudge up the stairs, thanking all the higher powers for Jungkook and the fact that he had reached home earlier than you. You don’t think you can handle cooking right now.

“Kook! I’m home!”

You hear an unintelligible, muffled grunt from somewhere inside the house in response as you kick your flats off in the foyer and shut the front door behind you.

Moving inside, you drop your bag on the table and make your way to the utility room from where you had heard Jungkook's voice. You’re greeted by the sight of his sweatpants-clad butt as he ruffles around the open washing machine in front of him, dumping clothes into it from a basket in his arms.

“Is it laundry day already?”

You get an impatient huff in response and a muffled sound emerges. “Every day should be laundry day.”

Snorting, you reply to his face once he’s stood up and cracked his back with a grimace. “We get like three outfits a day at most. What are you going to put in there, your Halloween shrimp costume?”

“I thought we agreed to not mention that!”

He deposits the empty clothes hamper in your tired but accepting arms, gesturing you to place them on the counter behind and you do so, as you laugh, “Now why would I agree to something so stupid?”

“Because you’re stupid.”

“And you’re 22, but you still can’t figure out something more devastating than a middle school comeback, stupid.”

You watch, satisfied, as he sputters for a bit before glaring at you and turning on his heel, walking out of the room.

Grinning, you follow, feeling loads lighter after that interaction. Nothing like winning some good old-fashioned verbal sparring to get the sinews stiffened again.

He leads the way to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath as you walk behind him, your stomach rumbling something awful.

“Oh, bless your soul, it’s food!” you moan, rushing towards the box full of rice sitting on the counter.

“Lovely, so now my soul is blessed, but any other time, I’m stupid. You might want to heat – alright, then.”

You don’t pause as you rapidly continue shuffling the contents into your mouth like you haven’t eaten in days. Climbing up onto the counter, you chew and swallow, only pausing for a second in the middle to ask, “How was work?”

He brings down two tea bags from the overhead shelf. “Fine, I guess. Managed to get assigned a good story, so that’s something.”

Swallowing, you say, “That’s great! And the novel?”

With a shrug as he pours boiling water into the cups, he replies, “Haven’t made any headway. I’m still stuck at the same place.”

“Well, you have the weekend to focus on it. That’s bound to help, yeah?”

You set aside your empty box, feeling satiated, and accept the mug from Jungkook with a smile, nursing the warmth in between your palms and letting it steep as he takes a sip of his own tea while nodding.

“Hopefully. And class tomorrow should be fun, might get something there.”

You hum in response, pleased. The thought of your weekly dance class perks you up a bit as you feel your eyelids drooping at the soothing smell and steam of chamomile under your nostrils.

When you and Jungkook had found out that you’d both be coming back to your hometown for work after spending four years at different colleges, the first thing you two had done after finding an apartment to share had been re-enrolling at your old dance studio. Now Saturday mornings are exclusively reserved for listening to Taemin, Mr. Kibum's protégé, shout at you and roughly ten other young adults to ‘Dance, you lazy fools,’ like he’s an old man who’s angry at teenagers about stepping on his lawn instead of the 25 year old, recent fine arts graduate that he is. Most of the class, including Taemin, are people you’ve grown up with in the city, gone to school with, performed at recitals with when you all were teenagers.

Sliding off the counter, you take Jungkook’s cup from him and wash it along with your own. Now that you’ve been fed, you want nothing more than to go to bed so you can wake up in time in the morning. Once, you and Jungkook had made the mistake of being five minutes late, and now Taemin’s put a black asterisk next to both your names in the database, like he’s running a bloody pre school.

“Oh, and I almost forgot, Tae finally found a business partner!”

Stacking the cups on the side of the sink, you dry your hands as you reply, “I always knew he would. Is it somebody you know, from college?”

“No, he said they went to high school together and met again at a reunion party. “

You’re having trouble keeping up with the conversation at this point, feeling your eyelids becoming more insistent in their bid to shut, so you just pat an amused Jungkook on the shoulder in acknowledgement before you manage to say through a yawn, “I’m excited to meet him. ‘Night.”

“Remind me again why I didn’t dance more in college,” you groan from your sprawled out position on the wooden floor of the room.

Taemin walks up and down the three rows of tired, panting dancers, looking infuriatingly fresh and straight off the ramp despite having just run through a terrifyingly complex and intense routine. Your only consolation is the fact that he seems to be the only one.

“Because you’re a nerd,” comes the reply to your rhetoric.

You try to move your leg hard enough to connect with Jungkook's, but all you can manage is a pitifully weak love tap on his shin. He lets out a wheezy sort of laugh from his straight legged, sat down position on your right, body tiredly leaning on his palms behind him. On your other side, Hyejin is faring marginally better than the both of you. She looks a little tired, but eager to, god forbid, go another round. She always was more active in college. It used to annoy you, when she used to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go do something awful, like exercise, but now you wish you had joined her occasionally, if for nothing else but to have a stamina greater than a sedentary brick.

“On your way out, make sure you check the notice board in the reception for information about the competition.”

“Boom? It still happens?”

Taemin fixes you with a dry look as you slowly sit up and copy Jungkook’s position. “Shockingly enough, this institute runs perfectly normally even without you around, Y/N.”

Mr. Kibum taught him a bit too much, you think, as chuckles erupt around you.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Oh, please, we both know I’m only asking because a maximum of four teams used to participate when we were in school. Third place just meant second last.”

“We made it a solo and duet competition three years ago. More teams, easier to coordinate for participants. We’re doing much better than we used to.”

It makes sense. BigHit, as a studio, used to have a small but dedicated group of patrons. Everybody knew everybody, and there were only two rooms. But looking at how much bigger this new building is, and the number of students in this contemporary batch that you’re a part of, not to mention the multiple rooms that you pass by every weekend filled with screaming children learning how to pirouette and b-boy, it’s clear that there’s been an increase in customers.

The lot of you trudge outside the room, making your way to the entrance in a babble of ‘Goodbye!’s and ‘See you next week!’s. You can feel the familiar soreness setting into your legs and back, but it seems less intense than it used to be. You’re rifling through your bag for your water bottle as Jungkook reads the poster on the notice board.

“See you at work!” Hyejin calls out as she walks towards the doors, letting you give a distracted wave to her retreating back.

“Ah, shit, I think I left my bottle inside. Give me five minutes?”

Jungkook nods, not really paying attention to what you’re saying, too engrossed in the pamphlet.

With an internal groan, you turn around and walk back the way you just came until you reach the room you’re looking for. Pushing the door open, you stop to a sudden halt, feeling like the SpongeBob with headphones meme.

The sight you’re met with leaves you gaping. The man dancing inside is gliding through the music, elegance pouring out of every fingertip. His back is facing you, and you can make out the strength and control he has over his movements, shoulders fluidly firm and back flexing with each lift of his arms, slow twist of his hips through his plain white t-shirt. It seems, for a single, permanently ephemeral moment like the music is radiating from his very being, and not from the speakers on the side. You hardly realise that you’re still standing, that you’re still breathing, but watching his limbs flow with such commanding grace somehow makes you feel so, so alive.

Abruptly, the music stops, and you feel like you’ve been woken up from a year-long slumber, suddenly conscious of your body, of your existence. He still hasn’t noticed you, frozen as you are at the doorway, and he walks towards the speakers away from the door. You don’t look away, slightly out of breath, and with a start, you notice your blue water bottle on the floor next to his shoes on the side.

Gingerly, you step into the room and softly clear your throat, feeling like you’ve just desecrated someplace holy. The man turns around, speaker in one hand and phone in the other, slightly panting, and the moment comes to a standstill yet again, suspended with wild surmise.

“Y/N?”

The floppy brown hair, those twinkling eyes and pouty lips. Suddenly, you’re ten years old again, sitting with your best friend under a tree and discussing excuses to get out of doing homework.

“Jimin?”

You’re meeting each other in the middle of the room now in a tight hug, and you step away with a million questions running through your brain.

What’s Jimin doing back in this city? Why is he practicing in the studio alone? Is he staying? When did he get so pretty?

The last thought hits you like a bullet train and you impatiently shoo it away. It’s been twelve years, of course he looks different.

“You look great!” he says, eyes crinkling as he smiles, tiny dimple popping, in the I haven’t seen you in a really long time and this is how the script for such situations reads voice.

“So do you! How come you’re here?” you enthuse, referring to the same play, still reeling.

“I moved back a week ago! Do you still live here?”

“Moved out for college, came back for work-"

“Hey, Y/N, what’s taking you so lo – Jimin?”

“Kook! You’re here too?”

You watch Jungkook’s face morph through shock, surprise, confusion before mirroring your own expression of bemused joy as he meets Jimin in the middle for a hug. Seeing them like this makes your heart ache with the memory of the last time the three of you were together, that final evening under Jungkook’s tree, as the sun was setting on the horizon and you were all promising each other that you would write thrice a week. Even you and Jungkook, despite the fact that you both weren’t moving anywhere. Of course, not a single email was sent. Not unless you count that one week in college where you were avoiding your texts like the plague and used exclusively email to contact a very exasperated Jungkook (“Y/N, you literally do not even have to reply to my messages, but every time I get an email notification, I keep thinking it’s from the university and I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried when I see that it isn’t.”).

Before you know what’s happening, leave alone protest, Jungkook’s pulling you into the hug so your head is smushed into his chest, face a hair's breadth away from the side of Jimin's. He’s still giggling with Jungkook as the latter says, “Hey, this is so great! The three of us, just like old times, yeah?”

You take in the crinkles around Jimin’s eyes as he smiles, the sweet, high pitched, deliciously familiar sound of his laugh, his playful voice as he says, “It’s wild that you used to be the shortest of us,” to a faux offended Jungkook, and with the memory of him dancing like that still etched in your mind, you know that this is nothing like old times.

You push yourself out of the hug and plaster on a smile to cover how unsettled you feel on the inside. You’ve never been good with change, and this is a huge fucking change.

Laughing along for a bit, you let out an internal sigh of relief as Jimin winces and says, “Taemin and I are gonna be dancing together at the competition and he'll be here any minute, so I really should get back to practicing. He channels Mr. Kibum’s spirit even more when he has a vested interest in the outcome, and he really wants to win.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! No worries, we'll let you get back to it, then,” you utter, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything, just giving you one of his wide smiles before the three of you exchange numbers.

Jungkook finishes entering his contact on Jimin’s phone and hands it over to him. “We should totally catch up sometime, though!”

Jimin agrees enthusiastically with a swift grin and says, “Yeah, definitely! We'll make plans soon,” and the next thing you know, and not nearly quick enough, you’re out on the pavement, absentmindedly counting the tiles as you and Jungkook walk back home.

“Are you overthinking this?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by his question. He’s got an infuriatingly knowing look on his face that you want to smack right off.

“What’s there to overthink?”

“It really isn’t a big deal, you know. I mean, yeah, it’s been a million years since we saw him and it kinda sucks that we couldn’t keep in touch and obviously, puberty hit him like a glorious, gorgeous truck, but he’s still Jimin.”

Side eyeing him, you wonder if it’s a good thing that it sounds like he’s just read your mind.

Sighing, you reply, kicking at a pebble in front of you in half-hearted annoyance, “He’s just so...grown up. And old.”

“You're three months older than him, if I remember correct.”

Debating on whether you should direct your next kick at him instead and deciding to spare him, you say, “You know what I mean. I know he’s still Jimin, but I feel like I don’t know him at all. You should have seen him dancing, Kook, it was beautiful. So poised and graceful and wonderful and skilled. I’ve never seen anybody dance like that apart from Mr. Kibum, maybe. Who is he?”

“There, there,” Jungkook replies after your sudden, passionate outburst, patronisingly patting your head as you huff and shake off his hand. “We literally just spoke to him for the first time in twelve years. I feel weird about it too, but I’m sure we'll be more comfortable once we spend more time together. We’ve grown as well, yeah?”

First Hoseok, now Jungkook. The amount of wisdom that’s been shoved on you from unexpected quarters recently is quite astonishing.

You tell him as much, swerving his swatting hand and narrowly missing bumping into an annoyed couple walking next to you. Giggling as you simultaneously apologise and teeter precariously on your heel, trying to regain your balance, Jungkook lets you suffer for a while until he finally takes pity and grabs your hand just in the nick of time, standing you upright.

“Tae wants us to meet his partner tonight over dinner,” he says, ignoring your scowl of annoyance as you hoist your bag higher on your shoulder from its displaced position.

“I’m meeting Yoongi for dinner today, though.”

“Tell Tae that. He’s annoyed you aren’t replying to his messages anyway.”

In a mumble, you reply, “He shouldn’t take it personally.”

Jungkook just hums in response as you both climb up the stairs to the apartment, more than used to your delayed replies. “Can you get Yoongi to bake that chocolate cake again? I’ve been craving it.”

Pushing the door open, you say, already dreaming about dessert tonight and Yoongi’s cooking skills, “Me and you both, my dude, me and you both.”

Yoongi : How long will you take to reach?

Depends. How long will the cake take to get ready?

Yoongi : If you aren’t here in fifteen minutes, I’m eating it and only leaving enough for Jungkook.

Open the door.

“Took you long enough,” Yoongi huffs as you close the door behind you and step into the foyer, slipping off your shoes in the doorway.

“Hey, I was only listening to what Hoseok said. I am to, and I quote, completely relax this weekend because next week's gonna be hell apparently.”

He flicks you on the forehead, easily dodging your half-hearted counter attack before leading you into the house. The smell of food wafts out of the kitchen, nearly making you salivate. If there’s one good thing that’s come out of moving back to this city, it’s that Yoongi never moved out and where Yoongi lives, good cooking thrives. He always did pay more attention to your mother’s lessons.

You’re preoccupied with trying to guess what the smells are, eyes closed and nose sticking up, when you suddenly bump into your brother’s back.

“Move over, then. What are we waiting for? It doesn’t taste as good reheated,” you say, eagerly trying to move past his frame so you can enter the kitchen slash dining room.

But something in his manner seems shifty. Slowly, you bring the balls of your feet back to the floor and stop fidgeting as you take in his evasive expression.

Sighing, you ask, casting one last doleful expression to the doorway that’s so close yet so far, “What did you do?”

“Who says I did anything?”

At your unimpressed look, he huffs before taking a deep breath, as if to summon up some courage.

“Y/N,” he starts, his uncharacteristically sweet tone making you wary.

“Yes?” you slowly ask, simultaneously suspicious and curious.

He places his palms on your shoulders and your younger sibling instincts kick in, ready to punch him in the stomach if he tries to flip you. But there’s no trace of mischief in his unsure, slightly scared eyes. Pleased as you are that Yoongi feels the need to be cautiously terrified around you, you wonder what you’re about to hear that’s making him anticipate a negative reaction.

In a soothing voice, he says, tilting his head like how he used to talk to you when you were seven, “You know that you’re my favourite sister, don’t you?”

Okay, that’s it. With an impatient click of your tongue, you wrench his hands off and swiftly sidestep him to the kitchen doorway as you mutter, “I’m your only sister, fool.”

But the insult never leaves your mouth, stuck as it is on the tip of your tongue. You’re left halted at the doorway, gaping like a fish at the figure sat on the table, Yoongi’s voice urgently, uselessly hissing, “No, wait, don’t go in yet!” behind you and trailing off like a deflating balloon.

“Hello, Y/N,” Kim fucking Jennie says, pleasantly smiling up at you, looking completely unfazed.

“Hi- Hel- Hey, Jennie.”

Your embarrassing stutter ends in a growl as Yoongi behind you chuckles, his laughter morphing into a deeply satisfying grunt of pain as you elbow him in the stomach as discreetly as possible.

Jennie's slightly widening grin shows that maybe the motion wasn’t as discreet as you had hoped. Oh, well. As long as it hurt like a bitch.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at her with your mind blank. Twice in the same day, you’ve been left at a loss for words, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. She doesn’t seem to be too affected, sitting calmly and steadily looking at you through her black, full-rimmed, cat-eye glasses, like a drastically younger and more female version of an Asian Dumbledore. In fact, if anything else, she seems like she’s having quite a good time. Her smile doesn’t waver, and you’re still thrown by how young and non-terrifying she looks when you aren’t in front of her in a boss-intern capacity, but all that will come later. For now, you need answers.

Thankfully, at that moment, from behind you, in a voice that sounds disgustingly like a male turtle dove cooing to his romantic counterpart, Yoongi breaks the deafening silence. “Could you give us a moment, Jennie?” he asks, and with an amicable nod from your boss, he guides you back out to the living room with his hands on your shoulders.

The moment you’re out of earshot, you whip around to face him, mustering as much anger and irritation into your gaze as you can. “What the fuck?” you hiss, distantly glad to see him a great deal more scared than he had been when he laughed at you back in the kitchen.

Not giving him a chance to reply, you rapidly continue, “What is my boss doing in your bloody kitchen?”

He holds up his palms in a placating gesture as he says, “Now, I know this is a bit of a shock-"

“Figured that out all on your own, did you?”

“-but Jennie and I are...seeing each other.”

“Oh my god. Oh god. Holy fuck. I need to sit down.”

You drop onto the couch behind you, Yoongi tentatively following your lead, gingerly perching himself out of punching range.

As you try to wrap your head around this lovely surprise, he continues, “I know she’s your mentor and stuff, but it isn’t going to be any different at work or anything. You weren’t even technically supposed to meet her today. Her car's gone for servicing and her Uber’s running a little late.”

“Okay, wait, wait. How do you even know her?”

Looking slightly less wary, now that he can tell that you aren’t going to attack him, he says, “I met her at one of those company parties last year, when Hobi made me go as his plus one.”

You straighten up so fast, it’s a wonder your spine doesn’t crack. “Last year? You guys have been dating for an entire year?”

Trying to subtly shift slightly away once again, realising that the jury’s still out on physical violence, he slowly replies, “No, no, we’ve only been together for, like, two months, promise.”

You slump again, but shoot a venomous glare at Yoongi so he won’t lower his guard. “How old is she, even? And also, does Hoseok know about this?”

“28, and yes.”

“No fucking way,” you say, now in awe for a completely different reason. “She’s a division head before thirty?”

You regret it immediately, though, as Yoongi’s visage takes on a moony eyed expression. “Yeah, she’s really smart. Did her internship and online classes at the same time and skipped a grade in school.”

“Oh, ew, ew, okay fine, I understand. Stop doing that with your face, please,” you rattle off, completely disgusted by this ghastly display.

He’s about to say something, probably flattering because that always serves to soften you right up, when you hear the soft clearing of a throat. Both of you whip your heads in the direction of the sound comically fast to see Jennie at the end of the room near the foyer, phone in one hand and bag in the other. Immediately, the two of you stand up, although for different reasons.

It looks like she’s trying not to laugh as she says, “My ride's here, so I’ll let you guys get to dinner, yeah?”

“I’ll walk you out,” Yoongi immediately replies, taking on that tone that you’re quickly getting incredibly tired of.

Jennie nods with a wide smile, eyes crinkling on the sides as Yoongi gently places a hand on the small of her back once he reaches her. You try your best not to gag. You might be 22 years old with some reasonable amount of experience in the romantic field, but there are some things that you just do not need to see.

“See you at work, Y/N!” Jennie says. All you can manage is a half nod half bow, and ridiculously, you have to actively fight the urge to salute. You narrow your eyes as Yoongi lets out a snort at your actions that he quickly and not very convincingly tries to cover up with a cough, quickly ushering an amused Jennie towards the door.

An amused Jennie, you think, hardly daring to believe it, as you make your way back to the kitchen, determined to hold the chocolate cake ransom until he tells you more about Jennie. Only Jennie, mind you. Not Jennie and Yoongi. You wouldn’t want to touch that with a five-foot pole, not anytime soon, at least. But your mentor slash potential future boss alone, on the other hand, seems really fucking cool right about now.

“I’m telling you nothing. If I have to wait for a week to get a reply, you can wait a couple more minutes to see him for yourself.”

You scowl at Tae, holding your tongue from reminding him that replying to a stupid cat video ranks much lower on the urgency scale than being armed with some semblance of information about his new business partner that you and Jungkook are going to be meeting in five minutes.

Next to you, Jungkook snickers and says in a sing-song voice, “I told you so.”

Tae continues fixing you with that obstinate glare, lips wrapped around the bright, red straw jutting out of his plastic cup filled with something that’s probably too edgy and expensive to taste good. Like everything else on this menu.

When he had sent the address to the two of you, you had exchanged one of those looks, one of those only half-joking Can he pay our rent? looks and immediately started planning lunch at home before going for lunch at this...cafe? Restaurant? Bistro? Either way, the hard, wooden table in front of you looks more comfortable than the tall stool you’re sat on and the drink you’re nursing that was advertised as coffee tastes more like mud water mixed with cheap fertiliser.

The stool opposite you, next to Tae, remains empty as you all wait for this dude that you have absolutely zero information about. It'd be nice to be prepared, is all.

“While we’re waiting,” Jungkook starts, voice pleased at the stand off that’s happening in front of him. Always a slut for drama, that one. “Did Y/N tell you that Yoongi’s dating her boss?”

Tae's eyebrow lifts higher as he lets the straw go with a pop before saying, “No, she didn’t. But I’m not surprised.”

“About her not telling you or about Yoongi dating her boss?”

“Both,” Tae replies to Jungkook’s question, fixing you with a stern glare.

Before you can defend yourself, and it'd be a mighty solid defence seeing as how you yourself found out less than twenty-four hours ago, Tae continues, “Yoongi's always had a thing for powerful women.”

Sputtering, eyes wide, you say, “But you don’t even know my brother!”

Next to you, Jungkook roars in laughter, coughing as he swallows his weird, green concoction. You don’t bother helping him. Let him choke.

“Jungkook’s told me enough about him. He seems cool. I don’t know how you’re both from the same family.”

As you huff and flip him off, Jungkook, who’s just managed to calm himself down, sets off again. You’re about to chide him for laughing at your misery when the bell atop the door you’re facing gives a happy little trill, admitting the fifth patron in as many minutes, and decidedly the most unexpected, terrifying and beautiful entrant so far.

You can’t explain what you do next. You can’t even say that Jungkook has the whole apartment brain cell because he’s hiccupping into his drink and looking incredibly stupid while doing it. But your first instinct when you see Jimin enter is to hiss, “Oh, fuck no,” under your breath, panic in your gaze as Tae looks at you in concern, before slipping off the stool and ducking under the table, hitting your head in the process.

Pain blooms across your temple, but you have no time to attend to it, as the next thing you know, you’re belatedly realising that Jimin knows Jungkook too, and however well concealed you are, the other man is doing nothing to seem inconspicuous. Summoning all your strength, you’re about to give a good, strong tug to Jungkook’s pant leg, hoping that that should be enough to get him down here too, when from above you, you hear Tae loudly saying, “Jimin! Over here!” and Jungkook giving a tiny ‘Hey, it’s Jimin!’

What the fuck?

From your vantage point, you can see a pair of white shoed feet turning and walking closer, the tall table giving you a lovely view right up to Jimin's black jean clad thighs. Your mind is running a mile a minute, wondering whether you can manage to crawl out towards the door without anybody noticing and maybe sneak back in once Jimin’s left.

Before you can make up your mind, eyes glued onto Jimin’s approaching feet, Jungkook’s head pops down next to yours, floppy hair blocking your line of sight. “You good down there? Comfy?”

With a sinking feeling, you realise there’s no escape now, Tae’s voice already giving a small whoop of welcome. You shove Jungkook’s head a bit, nudging at him to straighten so you have enough space to clamber out, plastering a smile on your face.

You pop up just as Jimin reaches the table fully, he and Tae with wide grins on their faces as they both turn towards you and Jungkook after their ‘Hey!’s.

He looks even prettier than he had yesterday at the badly lit studio, floppy hair being held back by a pair of shades perched atop his head and eyes crinkled in what you now think is a permanent smile. You feel your fake grin morphing into something softer, more genuine as he tells Tae, “You didn’t tell me your friends were Y/N and Kook!”

Tae's befuddled expression is a sight to behold as you, Jungkook and Jimin continue beaming at each other in pleasant surprise. Vaguely, you think this should worry you more, your sudden, absolute lack of panic obviously a sign of insanity. But, honestly, you think you’re fine. Apart from the whole first reaction is to hide under the table thing.

Your heart might be beating a little faster than its resting rate, and your palms may be a bit clammy, but emotionally, it suddenly feels quite easy to be around him once you’ve seen how comfortingly familiar his dimples are.

“So, you’re Tae's business partner?”

“Yup,” Jimin nods as he pushes his stool closer to the table to get comfortable. “Small world, huh?”

Jungkook nods, knee bouncing excitedly next to yours as he takes a sip of his drink, grimacing after. “Definitely,” he replies through a wince.

Your own coffee sits in front of you, untouched after that first sip. Your gaze moves a little forward and gets momentarily caught on the silver bracelet on Jimin’s wrist.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, more to prove to yourself that you can say something without embarrassing yourself, because you know that Jimin saw your little escapade and he’s just too nice to bring it up, but Jungkook and Tae won’t be quite so forgiving when they interrogate you later.

“I’ve rented a studio apartment for now,” he replies, scanning the drinks menu in front of him. You wish him luck finding something good.

“How’s Yoongi? Still plays basketball?” Jimin asks, once he’s wisely decided to not order anything.

“He's dating Y/N's boss,” Jungkook says before you can respond, still, for some unfathomable reason, drinking his sludge-in-a-cup.

“Is that...is that a problem?”

“No, Y/N's just really scared of her. Like super wimpy when she’s around.”

Your whiny protest is halted by Jimin replying thoughtfully, “I’m kinda not surprised. I vaguely remember Yoongi dating that really intense emo girl once all those years ago. I see his type hasn’t changed.”

Huffing as Jungkook snickers and Jimin gives you a teasing grin that makes your stomach give a weak flop (which will be analysed later), you decisively say, “Yoongi’s fine. He lives here too and runs a tattoo place with Jin, the super tall dude who used to be over at my house all the time. And I’m not that scared of my boss.”

“Oh! Jennie, let me get that for you. Oh, of course, Jennie, I’ll do anything you ask, I’m so far up your ass – Ouch!”

Your foot makes contact with Jungkook’s shin, effectively stopping his disgustingly high pitched, incredibly inaccurate imitation of you, but does nothing to prevent your breath from slightly catching as Jimin giggles at his antics.

The perfectly pleasant, three-way tête-à-tête is interrupted by the loud sound of palms hitting the wooden table as Tae, whom you’re amused to say you had forgotten about, whips his head between all three of you, looking completely bewildered.

“Why are you all talking like you know each other?”

“I don’t know if I feel like telling you,” you reply, feeling vindictive at his betrayed expression. Now he knows.

Jungkook’s tight lipped next to you, sulking like the child he is and periodically bending down to rub his leg entirely too times to be warranted.

Jimin, on the other hand, looks curious as well as he asks, “I actually wanted to find out, too. How do you guys know Tae?”

Of course, you’ll answer him.

“He and Kook went to the same college. I, unfortunately, know him by association. How do you know Tae?”

“High school. We ran in the same circles.”

On noticing his business partner's annoyed expression next to him, Jimin continues with a faux-curious voice, bending forward on the table, leaning on his elbows so he can pretend to be interested, “How do you know Kook?”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the intensity of his eye contact, however playful it may be, in favour of aiding and abetting this mission of How Annoyed Can We Make Taehyung Today by replying, “Oh, twelve years of schooling together. What about you, how do you know Kook?”

Thoughtfully humming, he’s about to respond, but he’s interrupted by Tae saying in an annoyed voice, “Jungkook, if you answer my question, I’ll pay for your lunch.”

The response comes almost too quickly, but you can hardly blame him. Shit's expensive. “We all used to be best friends here until Jimin moved away right before middle school.”

“Oh, that’s wild,” Tae says thoughtfully, shooting you a smug look at having procured the information that you were withholding.

You all order food and conversation pauses as you, Jungkook and Jimin poke around in your meals, looking for something that appears edible, contrary to Tae, who seems perfectly content chewing mouthful after mouthful of bland celery and olives.

“Do you guys have a location for the store yet?” you ask, trying to spear a half-cooked pasta piece on your fork.

“We settled on a building yesterday! It’s pretty, lots of light and air, some good backroom space too.”

“And our first shipment's arriving in a few weeks,” Jimin adds, eyeing his plate suspiciously, as if the burger's going to eat him.

“We just need models now,” Tae nods, satisfied and leaning back on his chair, squeaky clean plate in front of him.

Jungkook seems to be trying very, very hard to not look at his salad as he eats it, and after what appears to be a very painful swallow, he asks, “Aren't you guys doing the modelling?”

And suddenly, the thought of Jimin smouldering in front of a camera rushes into your mind. You really wish this place had some normal fucking water instead of the herbed shit that’s there in the glass bottle at the centre of the table, because you really could do with some cooling down.

Once Tae's clarified that yes, they will be modelling their products but they also need a female model for that clientele, you clear your throat and ask, nonchalantly enough, toying with your fork, “Have – uh, do you have modelling experience, Jimin? Did you do some stuff in college, like Tae?”

“Oh, nothing big or official. Just a couple of shoots for a few showcases and helping out a friend who majored in photography.”

“He’s being modest,” Tae grins, all Cheshire like. “I’ve seen his photos, they’re really fucking good. If our products weren’t already so great, he would’ve been able to save them.”

Half of you wants so, so bad to see these pictures, to see him looking into the camera like he’s staring into your soul, but you think you’re maybe better off watching his blushing face and crinkling eyes, covering his flush with two hands, peeking through the gaps between short fingers.

You don’t realise you’re staring until you feel Jungkook giving you a tiny pinch on your arm, unseen by the others. Hurriedly busying yourself with the food in front of you once again, edibleness be damned, you push those thoughts away, grounding yourself with the solemn reminder that you have work the next day, Hoseok's warning glaring in your mind.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly enough, Jungkook letting out a crow of victory on seeing how expensive his dish was (because this is one of those places that’s too edgy for prices on the menu) and that he wouldn’t have to pay for it. There’s a momentary panic that sets in when you’re leaving, as Jimin goes in for a hug when your hand is still up in a wave, but you get out of it unscathed enough, only slightly embarrassed.

Tae : please?

No.

Tae : i'll pay for your petrol

As much as I love your money, no. Now stop bothering me, I’m almost at work.

Tae : ugh fine. but is there anybody you know instead? that girl who came for yours and kook's housewarming? hyerin something

...Hyejin.

Tae : yes her! could you ask her, please please please?

Will you pay for my meal the next time we go out?

Tae : only if you don’t pull a kook on me and order the most expensive thing on the menu

I can work with that. I’ll talk to her today.

Tae : okay thanks lylyly, let me know by the end of the day!

Snorting, you switch off your phone just as Hoseok pulls into the car park. Surreptitiously, you look around, searching for a familiar sleek black sedan.

“She won't be here yet. Always a little late on Mondays.”

You ignore his knowing look in favour of twisting around to get your bag as you huff and reply, “You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, Yoongi told me everything. I don’t know why I keep missing all these moments between you and Jennie, they sound like such fun.”

Feeling partly relieved that you won’t have be having a super awkward interaction with your boss slash brother’s girlfriend first thing in the morning and partly resentful that Hoseok was able to read you so easily, you half heartedly scowl up at him as the two of you walk towards the glass doors.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, pushing the elevator buttons. The lobby is mostly empty right now, nobody else waiting with you for the lift that’s currently on the topmost floor.

Dryly, you reply, “Oh, has Yoongi not told you everything about it yet?”

At his exasperated look, you respond again. “It was whatever. Dance class, dinner with Yoongi, the shocking, life altering revelation that he's dating my boss, the usual. Oh, and you remember Jimin?”

“The kid you used to hang out with all the time in elementary school?”

“Yup. He’s moved back. Opening that clothing store with Tae.”

He hums in distracted interest as the both of you watch the elevator come closer to the ground floor, stepping on as it dings.

The doors are about to shut close when you hear a hassled ‘Just a moment, please!’ from outside, and on instinct, you press the button to keep the elevator open. Not a moment later, Kim Jennie slips into view, and enters the lift with a polite ‘Thank you,’ the very picture of professionalism.

The universe has started its meddling early today.

You and Hoseok shuffle backwards, making space for her as you catch his gleeful eyes. As the doors shut and she presses the button to the seventh floor, you can feel the familiar stifling awkwardness that always seems to appear when she’s around, only now it’s ten times worse.

You’re certain the lift has never moved this slowly before, but Jennie makes no sign of saying anything to you and you sure as hell aren’t going to bring shit up. But the same can’t be said of Hoseok, apparently.

He clears his throat, absently looking at the numbers moving on the display on the top of the elevator doors, and you shoot him a suspicious glance, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Conversationally, he asks, “How’s your brother doing, Y/N?”

You could murder him, you really could.

Eyes darting between Jennie's straight back and Hoseok's slightly shaking shoulders, you shortly grit out, “Fine.”

And then, just when the door finally opens and you’re determining whether he’s an important enough employee to be missed very terribly, you catch sight of a tiny, amused smile of Jennie's face as she walks out of the lift first.

It throws you off enough to let Hoseok go without any lasting damage, only breaking out of your shock when you notice Hyejin walking towards you, annoyed look on her face. In a flash, you remember your promise to Tae. Hyejin must be kept happy and agreeable and susceptible. If not, you’re doomed to be the newest face of the VMin Experience (because it isn’t something as basic as a store). Tae just has to offer to pay for a couple more things and you’re a goner.

“Four fucking emails. The office isn’t even fully open yet and I have four codes to debug before lunch already. Fuck product rolling week.”

This is for Tae. This is so I don’t make a fool of myself on camera.

With as sweet a grin as you can muster, you reply, “Why don’t you send me half of them? I can finish it up for you.”

It doesn’t have quite the effect that you’re hoping for. Instead of simpering and agreeing and giving you one of her trademark million-watt smiles, full of gratitude and good cheer, all she does is narrow her eyes suspiciously.

“Why do I feel like you have some ulterior motive to this?”

“No! No ulterior motive, I promise. Just wanted to make things a bit simpler for you. Can I not want my closest friend to be relaxed?”

She regards you for a moment, beady eyed. Apparently deciding that you sound legitimate enough, she slowly takes out her phone and forwards two emails to you.

“Fine, but only because I’ve just been sent on a coffee run and Namjoon’s drink always takes too long to make.”

“Of course,” you reply, nodding genially as you hear a ping from your pocket. And then for good measure, you summon the lift for her, holding the door open as she steps in, smile plastered on until the doors shut on her sceptical eyes.

Tae : have u asked her yet

It’s been two minutes since we made this agreement.

Tae : so that’s a yes?

It’s an I’m-working-on-it. If you keep asking me every two minutes, I’m blocking you.

Tae : hope you aren’t planning on convincing hyejin with that sunny attitude

Fuck off.

You thank your cab driver as you exit the vehicle, watching with slight regret as he drives away. Might have been useful to have a getaway car.

Product rolling week is not, in fact, an entire week. It apparently runs only until Friday morning, after which all of you get a let-off, leading to a fake, watered down excuse of a three-day weekend.

And if it were up to you, right now on said Friday evening, you’d be curled up under covers after an early dinner (like 6 PM early), with a cup of tea and a good book, doing your damnedest to forget the just completed week from hell and mentally preparing for two, glorious, work-free days.

But no. You have no book with you. No blankets and pillows and no warm tea. All you have is Uber surge pricing and the building that you’re standing in front of that reads The VMin Experience on a small, wooden, obviously work-in-progress board.

You opt to watch from the outside for a bit, looking into the store through the glass. They’ve got two mannequins up already, one dressed in street fashion with a backwards snapback and the other in a whole ball gown, pearl string necklace included. It’s an experience, alright. Squinting, you can make out a wall that still has plastic wrap up and a ladder with a few stools, paint cartons on the floor. The store seems empty, but the message from Hyejin on your phone reads ‘COME TO THE BACK ROOM!!!’.

Casting one last, rueful look at the street, you sigh and push the door open, immediately hit by the smell of turpentine and varnish and general construction work. There are golden track lights fixed on beams from the ceiling illuminating a few naked mannequins on the floor and you pick your way through the newspapers to reach the door behind the payment counter.

The first thing you see is Jungkook speaking into his phone held in one hand and holding up an umbrella stand with the other. Then you notice Tae crouching, camera held up to his eyes, shutter clicking as he focuses away from you. You observe as Hyejin does her smoulder-smile-pout routine that fills her Instagram feed and shoot a quick thank you to the universe that she had agreed so easily to doing this shoot. There’s no way you could have done what she’s doing now without spontaneously combusting.

In the corner of the room, there’s a clothes rack pushed right up to the wall, filled with hangers and sample clothing that they’re modelling right now. You see it jiggle a bit and realise with a start that there’s somebody changing on the other side. And it doesn’t take a genius to realise who the somebody is.

At the sound of your shoes scuffing the floor, there’s a temporary halt in the proceedings as Tae turns around and says, “Oh, finally. Move that light a bit closer. This is a bitch to do alone and Jimin’s taking too long to change.”

You'd linger a bit longer on the offense that you’re feeling at being ordered about like this, but Jimin’s head pops up from behind the stands at that moment as he replies with a grunt, “This outfit has too many fucking layers, I’m stuck,” and suddenly, as you’re assaulted by a hint of his clavicle, the annoyed pout on his face and the disgruntlement in his eyes that morphs into happiness as he notices you, any and all displeasure you feel at Tae's tone flies right out the window.

You wave shakily in response, watching with a tinge of sadness as he disappears back down, only for Tae to huff and say, “Okay, Y/N, new plan. Go help Jimin with that outfit. I’m finished, Hyejin’s almost done. Just Jimin’s last shot and we can wrap up.”

You wonder what kind of expression you’re sporting at Tae's demand. Something between shock, fear and a weird, perverted, refusing-to-be-tamped-down sense of glee. Either way, you have no choice as he just goes back to photographing Hyejin, who slips right back in to model mode after giving you a big, cheery wave. Jungkook only fixes you with an apologetic sort of look as he continues to talk into his phone and move the umbrella the way he’s asked to.

He’s recently taken to dictating his novel instead of typing it out, and it’s led to you waking up at ungodly hours in the middle of the night on hearing Jungkook curse after stubbing his toe while pacing, talking into either his phone or his laptop. As a software professional, you’re glad. As somebody who quite enjoys sleeping, not so much.

When you hear another grunt from behind the clothes hanger, you’re forced into action, dropping your bag next to Jungkook’s work sling on the floor before calming your nerves with a deep breath and making your way towards the corner.

You stop right in front of the rack, gaze firmly fixed on an invisible point on the recently painted, smooth, grey wall, a few inches above your eye level. Teetering on the balls of your feet, you slowly ask, “Uh, Jimin? Do you need any help?”

Please say no, please say no, please say no. Don’t do this to me.

“Ugh, yes, please. That’d be great. You’ll have to come in through the clothes though, just move some hangers around.”

Thanks a fucking lot.

With another deep breath, you hesitantly pluck at the hanger right in front of you that’s holding a black, sequined jumpsuit that you’d probably think of buying if you hadn’t known that The VMin Experience has luxury brand pricing. Maybe if you take long enough, Jimin will be able to figure it out himself.

“Uh, Y/N? I can’t move my hands.”

No point in holding out for a hope then.

Internally sighing in acceptance of your fate, you push the hanger to the side so you can step in through the ensuing gap.

You’re greeted by the sight of your ex-best friend's naked, taut back, his arms stuck upright in a weird angle above his head, pale blue shirt stretched across his elbows and multiple white silk straps trailing out from it towards the floor.

You can’t look away from it, from the back of his neck to his shoulders, eyes trailing down until they reach the small of his back, centre of his tapering waist, and the moment you notice that he’s wearing tight, black, leather pants, you suddenly feel very warm. It’s a cramped space, and you’re covered on all sides by two walls and a tall, diagonally placed clothes rack, and the awareness that you’re so close to him, and that he’s hardly decently clothed, and that he has the prettiest fucking neck hits you like a truck loaded with arrow wielding baby cupids.

“Were you able to get in? I can’t tell, I’m afraid I’ll fall if I try turning around.”

His voice echoes in the closed space, making the privacy and proximity even more prominent, and it’s an effort to keep your voice from shaking with nerves and breathlessness as you reply, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m here. How do you want me to help?”

“Let me just turn around, give me a second. I think a thread's caught on my finger, if you could just – Oh, fuck.”

It’s instinctive, how your arms shoot out in alarm as he nearly topples over in his attempt to shuffle around, your hands landing on his waist as you straighten him, helping him regain his balance. The moment he seems stable and not a second later, you tug your burning limbs back, memory of his soft, warm skin seemingly permanently embedded in your fingertips.

He can’t see you, a random flap on the front of the shirt hanging over his eyes, and it’s probably for the best given your wide eyed, terrified expression. There’s a flush beginning at the base of your neck and rapidly climbing up, and it distantly annoys you. It’s not like you’re the one who’s half-nude and momentarily blinded.

“Okay, so if you could just untangle that strap near my finger, I think it should be fine. I just need to be able to move my elbows.”

You stop staring at the tiny litter of moles on the right side of his waist with a start, rushing into action, belatedly and furiously realising that your mouth is open and likely has been ever since you entered this holy sanctum of inadvertent porn.

Taking a tiny step closer to his frame, you lightly stand on the balls of your feet so you can begin extracting him from the fabric. He stands silently, but this close, you can feel his steady breath on the side of your head as you deliberately concentrate on getting the shirt across his elbows. You try your hardest to not touch his skin, but it’s difficult when the cloth is this tangled, and at one point, your pinkie finger ends up twisted around his, and in a flash, you’re transported to a decade ago, when the two of you had linked fingers in his backyard and solemnly promised each other that neither of you would ever, ever kiss somebody, because kissing is disgusting and gives disease.

You feel a squeeze around your finger and you flinch. From behind his makeshift veil, you hear Jimin chuckle before softly saying, “I remember it too.”

Trembling, you give a tiny quirk of your lips that is, in theory, a grin, but probably more of a grimace in execution, before you hurriedly move on. You ignore his small hands, the bracelets on his wrist, his breathy giggle as your fingers accidentally brush against the inside of his elbow, the bumpy patch of mosquito bites on his shoulder as you undo the messy loops that the straps have managed to wind themselves into.

Before you can step away, the fabric falls, revealing his face and a relieved grin, teasingly, nerve-wrackingly close to your own.

You clear your throat, rapidly stepping away, looking anywhere but at him.

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says cheerily, tying the straps at the wrist together, as you obstinately refuse to drink in the perfect way the problematic outfit fits his body that you’ve seen entirely too much of.

“No problem,” you mumble, and you’re surprised yourself at how steady your voice comes out. “Anything else I can do for you here?”

A cheeky grin followed by, “Nothing, unless you want to watch me take my pants off.”

You chuckle along with him, blocking out any and all images that your mind is conjuring as you hurriedly step away from him, ducking out from under the hangers and reappearing on the much cooler, much larger and much more oxygen-rich other side.

As you move the light around the way Tae asks you to, absently looking at Hyejin finishing up and Jungkook closing his phone with a satisfied expression, you force yourself to relax, to slow your breathing, to ignore the rustle behind you as Jimin comes through and steps in front of the camera.

You can hardly hold a decent conversation with Jungkook and Hyejin as the three of you eat dinner together at a café nearby once the shoot is over, only supplying miscellaneous hmm's and haw's as they discuss the dance competition at BigHit. It’s a small, saving grace that ensures that Jimin and Tae stayed behind to do some decorating instead of joining you. You can’t imagine just how much more you can take of these annoying, bodily reactions every time Jimin even breathes in your general direction, and you refuse to analyse them now.

“Are you alright? You’ve been sort of quiet today,” Jungkook softly asks later as the two are walking home, streetlamps casting shadows in front of you.

“Fine,” you reply, waving away his concern. “Tired, that’s all.”

He doesn’t let up. “Hyejin said you were a bit jaded while leaving the office today morning. You’re sure you’re okay?”

You run with it. It’s easier than explaining that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about the half-naked form of the third best friend of your little group from elementary school. “Yeah, I had a bit of a headache. Long week.”

“Well, it’s over now!” he says cheerily, ever the optimist. “And there's dance class tomorrow, that should be fun.”

Not if it goes anything like last week’s class, when you met Jimin for the first time in more than a decade.

You manage a small smile and he takes it, probably thinking you’re still exhausted from work, turning back to face the pavement.

“Y/N.”

“Kook.”

“Y/N.”

With an annoyed huff, you let yourself fall onto the couch behind you as Jungkook promptly does the same. His phone is open in his hands, email from BigHit open on his screen. You hadn’t bothered to read the body after seeing the subject, but apparently, Jungkook wasn’t so dismissive.

“Come on, there’s prize money. Prize money. How is this not enticing you further?”

“I haven’t danced properly in four years, Kook. And that money’s only if you win.”

“So we'll practice! Remember how well we used to dance together in those high school showcases? And how much fun you used to have? Do you remember, Y/N? Do you remember what fun is?”

He gets a little intense by the end of it and you respond with a flick to his forehead, the most you can manage in your still sleepy, exhausted haze. Both of you are tired, him from class and you from the long, sleepless night you had spent tossing and turning and willing away flashing images of bare backs and white straps and stupid giggles and tiny fingers.

And Jungkook thinks he can convince you to participate in Boom along with him when you’re in this condition.

“Why can’t you ask Hyejin?”

Absently rubbing the tender spot on his forehead that your finger had satisfyingly connected with, he doesn’t let up, only fixing you with a pleading look that you’d be more susceptible to if you haven’t been on the receiving end of it a million times before.

“Hyejin’s going solo.”

“Oh, so I’m a last resort?”

He sputters and you watch, satisfied, thinking he'll give up now, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, only scrambling momentarily before he shoves his phone insistently in your face.

“How are you so sure we'll lose?” he demands. “And even if we do – don’t look at me like that, – it isn’t that big of a deal! It’ll be fun, please? Now that you have some free time and I’ve at least got a vague sense of where I want my book to go? The competition’s three weeks away, that’s a lot of time.”

You know you have no choice but to agree once he’s given his little speech. You’re teetering at the edge of a decision when he opens his mouth again, excited look on his face.

“And we'd probably end up bumping into Jimin more!”

Shields up, defensively, you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Confused, he replies, “We haven’t spoken to him properly yet, yeah? And we’re all so busy during the week that we haven’t had a chance to catch up since we found out he’s back.”

Relaxing a bit, you say, “Oh! Oh, yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem entirely convinced. A shrewd look overtakes his face, eyes narrowing in a suspicious expression that you’re not entirely fond of. Slowly, he asks, “Why? What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing! Anyway, I’m gonna go shower. We can start practice tomorrow and all my evenings are free next week!”

You ramble it all out in a rush, some unknown energy appearing as you jump off the couch and leave the room rapidly. Behind you, you can hear Jungkook mumbling in confusion, but pleased nonetheless as he registers both your names for the competition.

You wonder if you’ll be able to get through a single conversation ever about Jimin without your stomach erupting in dread and awkwardness and terrifying fear. And more importantly, you wonder how long you’ll be able to avoid it and how long you’ll be able to hide it from your shockingly perceptive roommate. When his head isn’t stuck inside the washing machine or under restaurant tables.

“Oh, it’s been too long since we did this last,” Hyejin says as she tops up your glass with some dollar store wine, setting the bottle on the centre table before she leans back on the couch, her own glass held precariously as she folds her pyjama clad legs under her, head propped up by an arm resting on the back as she faces you eagerly.

You respond with an agreeing nod as you take a sip of your second glass, cross-legged on the other end of her sofa.

“Now,” she begins, all business-like, and it immediately puts you on edge. “Are you going to tell me why you didn’t come for class today morning?”

Shrugging as nonchalantly as you can, you reply, “I over slept. Recovering from the week, I think.”

And from Jimin, a traitorous voice in your head adds. You impatiently shoo it away. You aren’t going to tell her that you woke up with your alarm, came as far as taking a shower and wearing your leggings, even began to pack your bag, before being faced by the possibility of meeting Jimin today. You can’t tell her that you chickened out at the last minute and when Jungkook knocked on your door, asking if you were ready to leave, you had faked a headache and decided to stay in. You can’t tell her that you’re avoiding your childhood best friend because he’s too fucking pretty and too fucking sweet and invokes too many bloody emotions in you that you prefer to circumvent, still not having registered them yourself.

She nods shortly, but her voice remains uncertain as she asks, “Are you sure? You did seem a bit shaken yesterday after the shoot yesterday.”

You wave away her questions dismissively. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, promise.”

She drops it, taking another slow sip. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

The two of you drink in silence for a bit, only sounds being the occasional slurp and the knocking of glass against teeth.

“Are you participating in Boom?”

Scowling, you reply, “I have been strong armed into doing so, yes.”

She grins at you over her glass as she takes a sip, “Jungkook asked me if I wanted to be his partner today. When I told him to just ask you, he got kinda squinty eyed. I think he knew you were going to put up a fight.”

Flattered about your reputation, you give a short, satisfied nod before you ask, “Is BigHit letting participants use their rooms for practice?”

“Oh, Taemin told us about all that today. All rooms are full on weekday evenings and weekend mornings. Every other time is free.”

You feel your stomach sink. You’ll be the first to admit that this wasn’t your preferred choice of activity for the next three relatively easy, work wise, weeks, but now that you’ve committed, you want to win, godammit.

She gives you a sympathetic grin, patting your knee. “I know, those are the only free slots we’ve got. But what're you gonna do?” she shrugs.

“We'll have to find a place. Maybe we'll just move around some furniture in the living room.”

Again, you both relapse into silence, thinking about how to make it work. Slowly, a tiny frown appears on Hyejin's face, the kind that she gets when she’s just thought of a possible way to get rid of an error in a code but isn’t sure if it'll work without fucking up some other section of the program.

“You could ask Tae and Jimin if you can use their shop,” she slowly says, looking at you unsurely.

Even as your heartbeat picks up, you fight to keep your face placid as she continues, “Like, I know it’s new and shit, and it’s their baby and all that, but it’s roomy enough. It isn’t like you’re both gonna go wreck the room by dancing. And that back room that we used last night for the shoot, that could work!”

She looks at you, waiting for an answer. You buy some time, contorting your expression in one of contemplation as you lean forward to refill your glass, but inside, you feel like you’re warring with yourself.

It’s a pretty good idea!

But Jimin.

They aren’t opening the shop for two more weeks!

But Jimin.

It’s not like they’re gonna say no!

But Jimin.

“I’ll talk to Jungkook about it,” you say, keeping your voice level, settling for the most diplomatic and inconspicuously evasive answer you can manage.

She nods, content with your reply as she leans back. You mindlessly make your way through your glass, once again, annoyingly, caught up with thoughts that don’t bear thinking about, when her downturned phone on the coffee table in front of the couch pings with an alert.

It’s always shocked you that you know somebody who doesn’t permanently keep their phone on silent or vibrate, but you can’t dwell on it for too long.

“Taehyung just sent me the photos from yesterday!”

Fuck.

Her excitement is infectious, though, as she clambers closer to you, grinning eagerly, phone tilted so you can see the screen loading. You place your glass on the table before leaning back comfortably, cushion on your lap and heart in your mouth. Best not to be holding delicate items when you see this.

Distantly, you wonder whether you can make a quick getaway, or come up with a believable excuse in such short notice. You had sort of envisioned yourself being alone when you saw Jimin's pictures. Last night, after the...emotional debacle, you had studiously not looked at him for the remainder of the shoot, only moving around the light when you were asked to, gaze stuck on the ground or trading funny expressions with Jungkook across the room. Your goodbye had been perfunctorily cordial, steps consciously measured as you walked out, skin burning at the memory of the hug he had left you with.

Are you excited to see Hyejin’s and Tae's photos? Yes.

Can the same be said of Jimin’s? Not out loud.

You shoot a quick prayer up, although you’re beginning to quickly lose whatever meagre amount of faith you once had, just as the screen finishes loading, tiny thumbnails appearing.

You squeeze your hand in a fist, preparing for the worst as Hyejin opens the top image. Irrational as it is, you curse Tae for putting Jimin’s photos first as you’re assaulted (blessed?) by the dancer looking somewhere to the left of the camera, body languidly, precisely positioned with all the elegance and strength that comes when he’s on stage, deliberately supercilious pout playing on his lips, eyebrow cocked in a challenge to whoever’s in the background.

Nothing big or official, my ass.

Photo after photo flashes in front of you as you take in his smug smirk in one, his hip jutting out sideways in another, his fingers partway through running them through his hair, him in the middle of a giggle that you can hear, eyes shining, dimple popping. Distantly, as you greedily drink in the white straps dripping from his outfit as he smoulders, looking like an ethereal dream, you realise that you don’t want the pictures to stop.

You don’t pay attention to how obvious you’re being until you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, pulling you out of the map you’re tracing with your eyes along Jimin’s neck, and with a start, you notice that you’ve been looking at the same image for nearly half a minute.

You shut your mouth abruptly at the expression on Hyejin’s face as she looks at you, head tilted. The silence is heavy, pregnant as you try to find some way to get out of this mess.

“Y/N,” she slowly starts, caution in her voice as she lowers the phone before you can say anything.

Not meeting her eyes, you squeak out, “Yes?”

She doesn’t say anything at first, only surveying you with that same, scrutinising, unsettling expression as you carefully retrieve your half-full glass, everything on edge.

“Something you’d like to say?”

“No, not really.”

She just hums in response, bringing the phone back up to go to the next lot of photos, these of Tae. She drops the conversation there, but you’re under no allusions as to what she’s figured out and what she hasn’t. The faint blush on your cheeks should be indication enough, if your blatant ogling wasn’t. All she does is give you a gleeful, knowing look, one that’s full of significance and that reads ‘I know what this is about, but I won’t make you talk about it now because you look like you’re about to shit a brick,’ before she clears her throat and continues scrolling through the photos.

You’re apprehensive as you do the same, leaning back to your previous position and casting a dubious sideways glance at her, but all she does is roll her eyes and say, “You think too much.”

Real genius, that one.

Either way, you’re grateful she doesn’t bring it up then. Or later, when you’re both eating ramen out of the pot as Seinfeld plays on the television. Or even in the dark, when you’re both about to fall asleep, because the older you’ve gotten, the more you’ve begun to truly appreciate the sleep part of sleepovers. The next morning, as she’s waving you away at the door, the only indication she gives that she even remembers the conversation is a wink and a ‘Don’t worry.’

She should become a therapist, what with all her golden wisdom.

“Come again?”

Exasperated, you sigh before you obediently repeat, kicking your feet up on the counter and leaning back languidly on the rolling chair, “Jungkook’s late.”

Yoongi looks at you suspiciously as he repeatedly pokes your shin to get you to remove your shoes from his precious work station. “But Jungkook’s never late. That’s your thing.”

Scowling, you impatiently swat his hand away as you reply, “Yes, I know. But he got held up at work.”

He gives up, resigning himself to moving the needles away to keep them safe from your pivoting feet. “I keep telling him he should quit. What kind of company makes their employees stay this late on a Friday evening?”

“Luxury magazines for affluent readers,” you respond, your fingers up in air quotes. “Either way, if his novel does well, he’s out.”

Infuriatingly predictably, you had chickened out of asking Tae and Jimin about using their store for practice. And Jungkook hadn’t even thought about it, which was great. In fact, you hadn’t spoken to Jimin the entire week. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had been avoiding him, but twice, when Jungkook had tried getting the three of you together ‘like the old times', you had lied about having office work, despite the fact that this had been the most relaxing week in your intern life so far.

The past four weeknights were spent in your new practice studio: the backroom in Yoongi’s tattoo parlour. You wouldn’t say it's the most ideal of spots for multiple reasons.

One of them being that every time you’re late (read: every evening so far), Jungkook and Yoongi have a jolly good time talking shit about you. You’d think your roommate and your brother would hold some amount of love and respect, but when you had entered the room on Monday evening at 7:15 PM, they were compiling a lovely list of Top Ten Times Y/N Has Embarrassed Herself In Public. And they didn’t even have the gall to seem sheepish. Jungkook had just looked at your scowl with an amused grin and Yoongi had said, “If you’re late tomorrow, we're going to make one for the number of times you’ve whined about something stupid.”

And then on Tuesday evening, when you had dawdled for too long around the corner, trying to decide between having dinner before or after practice (and eventually settling on skipping the meal entirely), you had entered the shop at 7:21 PM, only to see Jennie and Jungkook engaged in a wonderful conversation about God knows what, all smiles and ‘Nice to meet you!’s. You were stuttering through your customary, “Oh! Hel – hi!” with Jungkook snickering in the background when Yoongi came out from the back, tossed you the keys and told you to lock up, and then swept a very bemused Jennie out the front door.

Wednesday was fun, in that Yoongi was busy with a late appointment and you and Jungkook made some headway, but on Thursday, Hobi decided to sit in, so it ended up being two hours of ‘What are you doing with your hands?’ and ‘Make it look natural, guys,’ as he and Yoongi traded sips from the emergency whiskey flask that your brother keeps in the shop.

And now, 7:30 PM, Friday evening. Two weeks left for the competition and you and Jungkook have been getting on fairly well, better than you had anticipated. If only he'd show up.

You send him a message, deciding to call him if he doesn’t reply in the next ten minutes, when you hear a polite knock on the door. Confused, you look at Yoongi with a tilt of your head. Jin’s out of town, Hobi doesn’t knock and Jungkook sure as hell doesn’t knock. He looks just as bewildered as you, letting go of the tattoo pen he was in the process of arranging and slowly walking towards the door. A louder, more urgent knock comes and you let your feet fall on the floor with a thud as Yoongi hastens to open it.

You hear the voice before you see the owner, nearly falling off your chair as you make a clear path to the sofa at the end of the room as Jimin and Yoongi carry a clearly unconscious Jungkook to it, laying him down as you rush behind them, worriedly asking the newcomer, feelings be damned, “What happened?”

“I was passing by when I saw him walk into a pole and fall down,” Jimin replies.

You don’t want to laugh, you really don’t, but as Yoongi sprinkles some water on your dance partner’s face and he slowly begins to stir, you can’t stop a simultaneously relieved and disbelieving giggle from erupting.

“He what?” you ask, calming down enough to kneel down on the floor, next to Yoongi, and look in awe at your roommate, marveling at his stupidity.

Jimin shrugs as he explains, “He was looking at his phone and just sort of walked into the pole. I didn’t know where to take him, but I remembered you saying something about your brother having a tattoo parlour somewhere here and figured I’d try my luck.”

“He weighs a ton. How did you carry him?” Yoongi asks as he adjusts Jungkook so he isn’t in danger of falling off.

“It wasn’t easy,” he replies. “What does he eat?”

“Protein mostly,” you respond, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes. You imagine it must be quite an experience for somebody to come back to consciousness and see three half-amused half-concerned faces swimming above them, but Jungkook handles it admirably.

“Wazza?” he blearily asks, drool slipping out the side of his mouth as he struggles to sit up.

The three of you back away, Yoongi handing him a bottle of water.

“You’re in my place. You fell outside. Jimin got you here.”

Jungkook gulps some water as he tenderly presses at the faintly purpling bruise right at the centre of his forehead. “Oh, thanks. Did I look cool?”

Jimin winces before replying. “You walked into a metal pole, so I’d say no.”

If your roommate were a normal, sane man, he’d be upset on receiving this news. At least slightly embarrassed. Not that his line of questioning had indicated anything even remotely resembling intelligence, but you’d think that at this point, he’d make up. But on the contrary, his glazed eyes clear up and a gleeful look overtakes his face.

“Do you think he has a concussion,” you mutter out of the side of your mouth to Jimin, as Jungkook opens his mouth to say something.

The giggle you get in response should not make you feel like prancing around in a field of roses and calling all humans your best friends.

“I remember why I was distracted! I got it!”

“Got what, a disease?”

For somebody who was recently unconscious, he’s capable of a great stink eye. You’re vaguely impressed.

“I got the next scene. Where’s my phone?”

Jimin moves towards the couch, pulling Jungkook’s mobile out of his back pocket and handing it to him. “Maybe don’t type while walking on the road next time,” he grins as he takes a seat next to him.

You hadn’t noticed Yoongi leaving the room, but he walks back in now with a bottle of fruit juice, speaking as he makes his way to the couch that the three of you are now sitting on, Jungkook feverishly going through a word document in the middle.

“This reminds me of when you all would come over and sit for hours on the couch in front of the television at home. Mom would give you all the snacks and then send me to do a grocery run at that corner shop the moment you left,” he says, fond smile on his lips as he gives Jungkook the bottle.

In a trice, that’s where you are, ten years old, Jungkook sitting wide eyed as you quickly got bored and kept changing channels because ‘This is my house, so I get to decide what we’re watching,’ and Jimin giggling ever so often at the miscellaneous cartoons you skimmed through.

“Shit, that couch was the best,” present Jimin sighs as he leans back on the seat, you and Jungkook nodding in agreement.

It’s easier to think of him that way. As your best friend of eight years that you shared all the drama and excitement and blown-out-of-proportion, self obsessed sadness that came with infancy, adolescence and preteen years, who left right before middle school, cutting your trio down to two. Maybe if he had left later, it wouldn’t be so hard to navigate him now, but you were all too young to keep in touch, and school and extra curriculars took over and now, seeing him after all these years, he’s just lying in that sweet spot between achingly familiar and unsettlingly different.

You don’t realise you’ve zoned out until Yoongi asks, “Do you guys still need the place for practice tonight or can I lock up?”

“Oh, I saw that you two were paired together in the sign-up form! Is this where you’re practicing?”

“Yup,” Jungkook replies, making sure his juice bottle is out of your reach. He’s probably noticed you eyeing it like a cat about to pounce for the last few seconds. “Where are you and Taemin practicing? Do you get extra BigHit room privileges?”

Jimin sighs a little, disappointed frown on his face that you realise, with a start, you want to kiss away. And then, belatedly, you wonder why you’re even surprised any more. “We had to drop out. Taemin got too busy with organising the competition and by the time he told me, it was too late to sign up as a solo performer.”

You can tell he’s upset, but he does an admirable job covering it up, pouted lips morphing in a wide smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he continues, “But I’m super excited to watch you guys on stage, though!”

All intentions of grabbing Jungkook’s bottle when he’s distracted fly out the window at the sympathy you feel. If that day, when you saw him dance in that practice room, is any indication, it can’t be easy for him to sit back and watch others on a stage participating in a competition he can win with his eyes closed.

“Oh, that sucks, man,” Jungkook says as you wrack your brain for something that sounds a little less hollow and a little more comforting. You come up empty and offer a sympathetic grimace, but somehow, you think he understands what you’re trying to convey. Like that secret code the three of you had, where vowels were consonants and consonants were vowels and everything had to be written upside down except every fifth letter, italics optional but preferred. You had a lot of time on your hands.

“You can watch us practice, though, maybe. And help out? You used to be the best at choreography,” Jungkook says with a grin, blindsiding you with his request.

“I’d love that!” Jimin responds, and you feel a thrill at how he doesn’t fake modesty, at the hint of cockiness that comes through in his voice.

Perhaps it’s the fact that Jungkook's just woken and the bruise on his forehead is only slightly lessening, or maybe that Yoongi’s right there, still waiting to find out if he should close up shop now or not and that he’s always been perceptive, but you force yourself to calm down. So what if Jimin watches you dance? You both went for class together for years. No biggie. Not worth giving your roommate another bruise.

“Can you dance now? Or do you want to just go home and continue tomorrow?” you ask, clutching at straws.

“I think I can dance, I feel fine. Fruit juice was great,” Jungkook says, making to get up.

“Yeah, Jennie got it from one of those organic stores she shops in,” Yoongi replies, nasty turtle dove making a reappearance.

You’re about to gag, or very pointedly look away, but before you can so much as decide on your method of conveying disgust, Jungkook, in the process of standing up, folds in on himself, knees buckling as he lets out a pained grunt. You, Jimin and Yoongi act on impulse, arms jerking out and catching him before he can fall, eyes wide with surprise and concern.

He settles back in his previous position and gingerly bends down, experimentally twisting his right ankle and hissing out a pained ‘Fuck.’

“I think it’s a sprain,” he winces, slowly moving it forward until another distressed flinch casts a shadow over his face.

Jimin bites his lip worriedly on Jungkook’s other side and you watch Yoongi help him slowly take off his shoes with a grimace.

“Y/N, there’s an ice pack in the mini fridge in my office.”

You don’t let him continue, only nodding as you swiftly rise after casting another anxious look at Jungkook, who’s looking everywhere but at his leg.

On your return, you see him lying face down on the couch, right foot propped over one arm rest as Yoongi says, “He must have fallen at a weird angle. It only seems like a sprain, but I don’t think he should dance.”

Jimin looks impressed as he watches Yoongi expertly place the ice pack in position and Jungkook huffs in simultaneous relief and disappointment.

“A million basketball injuries will do that to you,” you reply in answer to Jimin’s unasked question.

“What about the competition?” Jungkook whines.

You’re surprised to find the tinge of disappointment when you shrug and say, “We'll have to drop out. I’ll let Taemin know in class tomorrow and tell him to take us off the list.”

“But the choreography!”

Jimin steadies him as Jungkook slowly sits up, adjusting so he’s holding the ice pack, scandalised expression on his face as he looks at your drooped shoulders.

“Nothing we can do about it. Maybe we’ll try again next year.”

And then he gets that look. That expression that indicates that he’s thinking of an idea that’s good for him but sucky for you. Slowly, he swivels his head towards a confused Jimin sitting next to him before moving towards you, eyebrows scrunched, deep in thought. You can practically see the gears shifting in his head.

Warily, you ask, “Kook?”

His eyes are still narrowed and moving, but the frown slowly morphs into a small smile as he distractedly, instinctively replies to your question. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Is there...is there something on my face?” Jimin enquires, slowly backing away on the couch.

Only the cutest fucking pout I’ve ever seen in my life, your brain unhelpfully supplies.

Jungkook doesn’t directly answer, but finally begins to explain why he looks like an automated form of The Thinker, his grin slowly growing. “You guys could do it together.”

“Do what?” Jimin asks.

It, your permanently horny inner voice replies.

Out loud, you ask, “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“You guys can go for the competition together! Jimin can be your partner instead of me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t mind.”

You turn your determined, closed off face to Jimin’s calmly curious expression in astonishment.

“What?” you demand.

“I don’t mind,” he repeats, shrugging but cautious at your unexpected vehemence. “If you still want to perform and need a partner, I’d love to step in.”

Jungkook claps in glee as you continue staring, mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no sound coming out.

“Then it's settled!” he says before a shrewd expression overtakes his face, single eyebrow cocked as he looks at you with challenge in his eyes. “Unless...Y/N has objections?”

You’re caught facing the barrel of a loaded gun, Yoongi behind you, obviously already intrigued by your uncharacteristically passionate reaction, Jimin on the couch, pleasant smile playing on his face, eager with the thought of being given a chance to perform but not wanting to guilt you into anything and Jungkook, big brain Jungkook, disaster child Jungkook, waiting for you to make your decision. As soon as you see the small glint in his eyes, a niggling doubt emerges in your head about whether he’s managed to figure out your feelings before you’ve even accepted them yourself.

With an internal sigh, you plaster on a smile and reply, “Nope. No objections.”

Jungkook’s face clears, a brief flash of victory in his eyes before he beckons you closer, holding his right arm out for you to sling over your shoulder as he stands up.

Jimin gives you a satisfied grin, chuckling and taking your stupid roommate’s other arm as you nearly buckle under the weight.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Yoongi! How you and Y/N share the same blood, I’ll never know.”

Yoongi snickers, “You and me both, dude. Try not to put too much weight on your foot!”

And if you give a small pinch to the side of Jungkook’s waist where your hand is resting, that’s your business (and your satisfaction when you feel him flinch).

“Do you need any help getting him home?” Jimin asks as the three of you wait outside the building under the dark sky waiting for the cab to arrive.

You’re still reeling from the developments of the last few minutes, head terrified but heart perversely gleeful, and you don’t look directly at him when you reply, opting instead to direct your gaze at the little black dot on the map on your phone that indicates where the car is. “No, I can manage, thank you.”

Once Jungkook’s safely inside the car, Jimin doesn’t let you immediately follow suit, stopping you with a smile outside your roommate’s closed door before you can round the vehicle.

His body isn’t too close, but in your head, you run through the choreography that the two of you will be doing, and you know that that’s going to be far from true over the next two weeks.

“Hey, are you alright? You don’t have to dance with me if you don’t want to. You seemed a bit uncomfortable back there, when Kook suggested it.” He looks sheepish almost, but understanding, palm coming up to rub nervously at the back of his neck and other hand inside the pocket of his black jeans.

As he slightly rocks forward and back, you want to grab his face, bring them down to your level, look him the eye and tell him, equally stern and emotional, that he has occupied so much of your mind for the last week and that if there’s anybody here who should be unsure about this, it’s him.

You clear your throat under his light gaze before you reply, confidently as you can, “I was just thrown by the change of plans. I’d love to dance with you, honestly. I still think about that day we first met- well, met again- when you were practicing and how I’ve never seen anybody dance like that before.”

You’re as surprised by he is at the confession, immediately wanting to backtrack, but you don’t have the opportunity. A faint blush emerges on his cheeks as he looks away from your gaze, eyes crinkling in an embarrassed grin.

“Ah, Y/N,” he honest to God whines before taking a few deep calming breaths. You watch in fascination as all this unravels, drinking in this new Jimin. Fondly, before you can intercept it, the thought enters- you want to see just how many sides he has, want to experience them and revel in them.

“Thank you,” he mumbles with a small smile.

You can’t help but smile back, and the two of you are left grinning softly like a pair of fools at each other until a smart rap sounds on the window right next to you, making you startle into awareness.

Both of you turn to the car and see Jungkook peering through the glass with an expectant look on his face. ‘Are you coming?’ he mouths.

Flustered, you nod and give Jimin a small wave before going around him and entering the vehicle from the other side.

You’re too preoccupied to notice Jungkook staring at you, same shrewd look as last Saturday on his face, but when he lets out a soft ‘Ahem,’ you turn your head to look at him.

His expression is closed, and hardly clear as his face only gets illuminated passingly by the occasional streetlight, but his tone leaves no room for doubt when he says, lips quirking upwards in a small, teasing grin, “If you keep smiling like that when you’re talking to him, somebody could get the wrong idea.”

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the end of the week and you’re too tired for confrontation, or that your roommate has a sprained ankle and you don’t want to cause him any more grief, or that you’ve finally accepted the state of affairs, but you don’t resort to your knee-jerk reaction of denial.

With a small sigh, you softly reply, not making much sense when taken in context of the conversation but conveying everything that needs to be conveyed either way, “Yeah.”

He looks surprised at your response, probably expecting a huff and an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ but says nothing, just smiling at you kindly as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

“We can go to the doctor tomorrow morning and get your ankle checked, skip dance class,” you mumble as you watch the street ahead of you sideways, fingers absently fiddling with the strap of Jungkook’s bag in your lap.

He hums in reply, and you appreciate the silence, grateful that he knows you well enough to not bombard you right now.

Jimin (Do Not Interact) : Hey, this is Jimin! Park Jimin. Uhhh Chimmy Jimin. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that the shipments to the shop are a little delayed so we can practice in the backroom. It’ll be a bigger space than Yoongi's studio. I’m always here so let me know when we can start :D

You read and reread the message that was sent an hour ago, absently chewing your thumb nail.

“You do that a lot.”

“Do what?” you mumble, running through all the possibilities in your head.

Chuckling, Hoseok replies while shifting gears, “Look at your phone all worried. You’ve started a bit early today, though. And it’s still Monday. Bad weekend?”

Sighing, you reply, “Not particularly. Just...worried.”

“Anything I can help with?” he asks, patiently curious.

You flash back to ten years ago when Hoseok used to give you snacks whenever you accidentally (read: not) entered whichever room your brother and his friends were holed up in, kind, cheerful smile on his face as you shyly took whatever sweet treat you were being given that day before sprinting out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, already in awe at what you’re about to do, you tilt your phone towards him as he slows down at a signal.

He peers at the screen, looks up at you with a confused expression, and reads the message again.

“Is there something I’m missing?” he asks, as the light turns green and he starts the car again.

“First of all, why is he texting sense at 8 o' clock in the morning?”

“Y/N, have you ever considered the existence of people who enjoy waking up early?”

“Bet you’re one of them,” you huff.

He snorts before waving his hand in ‘Go on' gesture.

“Why is he sending smileys? What’s he so happy about?”

“Jesus Christ, he's just being nice, dude. How are you overthinking an emoticon? It isn’t even an emoji – are you blushing?”

“No, I’m not,” you say loudly, fighting through the unplanned flush on your face. Stupid smiley.

Your companion laughs as he sputters, “Okay, but I have a few questions myself.”

At your haughty nod after you’ve taken a few calming breaths, he continues, “Did he really think you wouldn’t remember him when you, very obviously, have a big, fat crush on him? Chimmy Jimin?”

“Stop,” you whine. In an undertone, you add, “That’s what I used to call him when we were kids. And it isn’t a crush.”

You’ve never been happier to see the office park.

“Are you going to reply?” Hobi asks, pulling into the mostly empty car park. “You know, because you’ve saved his name with ‘Do Not Interact'?”

You roll your eyes even as you know that your thumbs have been hovering over the keypad for the greater part of the last hour. “I will. Soon.”

“You literally just have to say yes or no. I’ll dictate it for you if you want. Yes Chimmy, I love you so much or No Chimmy, I love you so much.”

“Shut up,” you say, glaring at him as he laughs, thoroughly amused by himself. You both get your bags from the back, making your way into the building, text still open in your hand.

You’ve been staring at it for so long, that at first, you think you’ve imagined the green dot next to his name.

“Fuck, he's online,” you mutter in front of the lifts as Hobi giggles at your worried expression.

“Dude, just say yes or no, it isn’t a big deal.”

With a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, you slowly begin to type.

Sure, that’s a great idea! How does 6 PM today evening work for you?

“Perfect,” Hobi says, holding up three fingers in an OK sign when you tilt your screen towards him for approval.

“Smiley face?” you tentatively ask.

“It'd be accurate, you’re definitely happy."

You settle for a :) so it’s low-key before hitting send and immediately shoving your phone into your pocket, shaking your head to clear it for work.

“At the rate you’re going, you’ll have no nail left.”

“I am not entirely opposed to the idea.”

From the back of the car, Jungkook lets out a disgusted ‘Ew' even as he continues scrolling through his phone, absently biting his own index nail.

“Are you excited?”

“To get this over with? Yeah.”

Jungkook scoffs from the back. “There’s that charming Y/N optimism.”

“Don’t fight, children,” Hyejin says pacifyingly from her place behind the wheel. “We can tease her when she’s being a mess around Jimin.”

You scowl but have no comeback, because you can’t find the lie. In the backseat, Jungkook rubs his hands together like an evil fly.

“If I didn’t know that you’re perfectly capable of doing something as stupid as walking into a pole, I would’ve thought you set this up on purpose.”

He looks wounded at your comment, holding up a dramatic hand to place over his heart.

“We're here!” Hyejin calls out before any more confrontation happens, pulling up next to the curb.

“Thanks for coming along,” you sigh as you unbuckle your seatbelt, opting to leave your office bag in the car and only carrying your phone and water bottle.

Before Hyejin can reply, because obviously, the gratitude was aimed at her, Jungkook says, “No problem!”

You’re sure to gently jostle him a little as you loop his arm over your shoulder, helping him out of the car as you deadpan, “I was talking about Hyejin, fool. You practically begged to come along.”

He clicks his tongue in admonishment. “Is that any way to treat your injured best friend? After everything I’ve done for you?”

The eye roll is instinctive, but the banter serves to loosen you up a bit, weirdly calming down the butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook staying at home the entire day and not being allowed to work out means a lot of unspent energy, and you have no doubt that he’s going to be in full exuberance for the rest of the evening, at least until the painkillers kick in. You? You’d rather be anywhere but here, waiting for Hyejin to lock the car outside The VMin Experience at 5:55 PM, straight from work for dance practice with your...friend.

And if you’d prefer to spend your utopian free time scrolling through said friend's Instagram feed, that’s between you and God and your phone battery percentage.

“No thanks needed, I’m very excited to observe your reactions now that I have some background information,” Hyejin says gaily, sharing a beaming grin with Jungkook.

She pushes open the door as you let out a long, drawn out sigh and resist the urge to drop your roommate’s ass then and there when he theatrically whispers, “Happy face, Y/N. Happy face.”

                           ________________________________

“You good?” Jimin asks, only faintly panting, a single drop of sweat running down the side of his neck as he watches you, your hands clutching at the slowly forming stitch on your hip.

“Pe- Peachy,” you reply with a weak smile, gulping for air. Your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment and even with the central cooling in the room, you could really go for an ice bath.

You bend at the waist, bracing your palms on your slightly bent knees. A bottle of water appears in your line of vision and you look up to see a kindly grinning Jimin.

“Let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes,” he says, giving you a short, and what is probably meant to be comforting, pat on your back, but only serves to drag out the ongoing process of your heart calming down.

You’d think, after nearly an hour and a half of having his hands on your waist, fingers tracing your neck, palms closing around yours and the both of you moving together, you wouldn’t continue having all these physical reactions to a mere skim of skin over your clothed spine, but when has your body ever had a logical response to Jimin’s presence in the last few weeks?

Your breath slows down as you walk slowly around the room, looking at Jimin perfecting a step out of the corner of your eye. In the corner, Hyejin's subconsciously mirroring the dance as she shoots you a grin and a thumbs up. Your eyes sluggishly move to Jungkook, who looks like his painkillers have just kicked in, his eyes fighting to stay open even as he has an amused smile on his face.

The first thirty minutes had consisted of Jungkook teaching Jimin his steps with you as a prop, which basically meant you were passed back and forth as Jungkook explained as well as he could on one leg and Jimin caught on incredibly fast. It had been shockingly simple to dance with him, to let your body move with his and dip and soar step after step as he flawlessly executed the movements after watching Jungkook just once or twice.

You had nearly gotten caught staring at the furrow in his eyebrow as he concentrated, a similar pout on your lips as you yearned to lean up and smooth it out, but Jungkook had been too preoccupied to comment and you gave yourself a good, strong pep talk to focus.

And now it’s nearing 8 PM and you’ve just completed the first proper run-through, your body burning and your nerves hyper aware but so satisfied at the completion of a smooth rehearsal. In some weird, twisted way, it’s easy to not pay attention to the nervous, frazzled, constantly overthinking voices about Jimin in your head when you’re dancing with him.

Feeling a little calmer, you turn back around while gulping some water and see Jimin gathering his hair off his forehead and tying it up in a small ponytail, shorter strands falling out and hanging as wisps.

“Ready?” he asks with a grin, hand held out in your direction when he sees that you’re looking at him.

You swallow with difficulty and try not to be too transparent about the effect this new hairstyle is having on you as you muster a smile and nod, placing your palm in his, fingers only twitching slightly.

Hyejin stifles a short giggle, morphing it into a cough as you shoot her a sharp look before she restarts the track on the phone.

The piano intro begins, build up in the song already evident as Jimin pulls you close for the start position. You let the music wash over you, anchoring yourself in the sound and running through the steps in your head. Steeling your nerves, you meet Jimin’s eyes as you straighten your back, finding them twinkling in anticipation and unwavering concentration, gaze boring deep into yours as you both begin the routine again.

The rain is starting to come down heavier as you huddle close to the wall of the security cabin, trying to fit as much of your body as you can under the awning. Your laptop bag is secure in your arms as you use it to cover your chest, trying to receive some kind of warmth against the wind that’s picking up pace.

With a sigh, you unlock your phone for the fifth time in two minutes, checking if Tae’s given you his ETA. On seeing no new messages or missed calls, you close it again and let out a low groan.

A particularly strong gust of wind makes you shiver as you idly curse at your own stupidity for not checking the time while debugging the latest code you had been assigned and ending up leaving this late. If Hobi had come to the office today, he would have made sure you left on time, probably annoyed you into it as he played his stupid, TikTok songs playlist next to your desk until you agreed.

But he’s sick and you had spent twenty minutes sitting through awfully cheery morning radio in your Uber in the morning, too scared to request the driver to change it. And now, you’re standing outside the office building in the dark, waiting for Tae to come pick you up because no cabs are available.

The last message on your phone from him reads leaving in five! and that was sent fifteen minutes ago. You’re too caught up in trying to calculate what that means, time and math-wise, that you only realise that your boss’s car has drawn to a stop in front of you when the passenger seat window is rolled down and her concerned face appears, leaning over from behind the wheel.

You immediately straighten up from the wall, absently shivering against the droplets that hit your face and arms as you politely smile. Apparently, you weren’t the last one to leave.

“Get in!” she shouts to be heard over the sound of the rain, and at this point, you’re too cold and miserable to disobey. You transfer your bag and phone to one hand, pulling the door open and sliding in as gracefully as you can when your eyes are shut and your head is ducked to avoid the rain you’re momentarily exposed to. Which isn’t very graceful at all.

You nearly moan at the warmth inside the car, immediately feeling yourself getting less cranky.

“How come you’re leaving so late?” Jennie asks, moving the car so she can stop it against the curb before turning up the heat a little more when she notices you slightly shivering still.

“I was debugging something and lost track of time,” you say with a wince.

She nods in understanding, the light of the streetlamp casting a shine on her long, straight black hair as she pushes her glasses up.

“You have a ride back home? I noticed that you and Hoseok carpool but he didn’t come in to work today.”

“Yeah, my friend’s coming to pick me up. He should be here…sometime soon, hopefully.”

“I’ll wait with you,” she says. “I don’t want you falling sick, too.”

You accept with a grateful nod, more than willing to spend the next few minutes inside here rather than out in the rain.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a Thursday evening (night) and you’re going through the crushing, midweek existential crisis you’re prey to; or that the rain outside is getting heavier, small flashes of lightning indicating a larger incoming storm and you’re glad to have some kind of shelter; or maybe even that there’s a satisfying sort of soreness to your limbs from the now regular dancing, not painful but just present enough for you to feel content that you’ve done something, but the regular awkwardness seems practically non-existent.

Jennie doesn’t say anything, just quietly observes the rain from her seat, placid smile on her face like she’s been sheltering cold, helpless interns since she was four years old, and you feel no inclination to break the comforting silence, preferring to rub your palms in front of the heater vents, letting them warm up.

Until your phone begins to vibrate on your lap, caller ID reading Tae.

Eagerly, you accept the call, putting the phone to your ear. As fun as hiding out in your boss's car is, nothing sounds better than your bed and some pillows and a warm blanket.

“Talk to me,” you say immediately, anticipating good news.

There’s static for a while and you hear some talking in the background, something about boxes and back rooms before Tae's voice comes clear.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he starts, and you note with slight concern that there’s no sound of a running engine or rain on his end.

Warily, you ask, “What do you mean?”

A door closes in the background and now you can hear him easier, like he’s gone to a quiet place.

“A shipment got delivered early and since it was in my name, I couldn’t leave the shop.”

You feel your heart sink at his words, knowing from prior experience that it could take up to an hour for him to make it. In the suddenly deafening quiet of the car, his tinny voice through your phone rings clearly and you have no doubt Jennie heard. To her credit, she pretends to have not been paying attention, only continuing to look out of the window.

“Can you still make it?” you ask, cursing the day you and Jungkook decided to buy that washing machine that ate into your savings so much that you haven’t been able to purchase your own car.

He makes a soothing hum before replying, slowly and then all at once, “No, but Jimin is coming to get you and he should be there in five minutes tops.”

And now, in a rush, you’re seized up, unable to say anything except a tiny ‘Okay,’ in a voice that suggests that it isn’t really okay at all, if Tae's low chuckle is anything to go by.

It’s all fun and games having that rose-tinted feeling of liking somebody and being able to spend time with them and really embracing those giddy butterflies in your stomach every time you’re both in the same room, but when push comes to shove and you have to spend an extended period of time alone together without the buffer of music and the purpose of dance, you can think of few things more intimidating.

At your small tone, Tae replies, putting you more on edge, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to engage, he's pretty tired too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t mind engaging with him,” you respond, probably too defensive to seem convincing and too rushed to mask your knee-jerk panicked reaction.

He doesn’t give you a straight answer, and even though you can’t see him, you know his palm is held up in a pacifying gesture. “I’m just saying, when you like somebody, you tend to avoid one-on-one interaction with them which isn’t exactly conducive for fostering romance.”

“Fucking hell, does everybody know?” you groan as your head hits the back of the seat with a dull thud, momentarily forgetting about where you are and whom you’re with.

“Everybody except Jimin!” Tae replies cheerfully. In the background, you hear somebody asking for him.

You have no valid reply, only uttering a soft ‘Okay, bye,’ when Tae signs off by saying, “Okay, I have to go now. He’s coming in my car and should be there soon. Text me when you get home!”

Hanging up, you sigh, turning around to face Jennie who’s looking at you with a concerned expression.

“All good?”

Resisting the urge to bite your fingernails as you’re wont to do in high pressure, nervously anticipatory situations like this, you muster a weak smile and reply, “Yeah, everything’s fine. He should be here in a bit.”

She nods, accepting your half-baked response without question.

At that moment, through the sheets of rain, you see a familiar silver sedan pulling up on the opposite side of the road. Squinting, you read the number plate, and once you’ve deduced that it is, in fact, Tae's, you turn to Jennie and say, “That’s him. Thank you for waiting with me.”

She waves away your gratitude with a small smile, but stops you when you’re about to push open the door with a clearing of her throat.

Gentle but insistently, she slowly says, “From one woman to another, if you want something, you should go for it. Don’t hang around being scared or waiting for something to happen.”

So she did hear after all.

You don’t know what to make of it, don’t have any reply to her statement that won’t sound silly, can’t figure out a way to convey that yes, you agree with her one hundred percent, but this situation is different.

Your phone vibrates and you see the caller ID.

Jimin (Interact Only For Practice)

The headlights in the car opposite are blinking on and off, probably to signal to you that he’s arrived in case you don’t pick up your phone and you’re saved the bother of a reply by Jennie smiling kindly at your half-pleading half-flabbergasted expression and saying, “He's waiting for you."

With a gulp, you can do nothing but nod and stutter out another ‘Th-Thanks,’ before you push the door open and jog to the other side of the road towards your ride.

                                   _____________________________

“Here, I thought you might need this.”

There’s a sweatshirt placed on your lap, something soft, warm and as far as you can make out in the dim lighting of the car, black.

He does look tired, faint bags under his eyes that are missing their regular sparkle. He gives you a small smile, though, as he jerks his head in the direction of the fabric he’s set down on your thighs.

“You look cold. Do you want me to turn up the heat?” he asks, slightly husky voice, all kindness. You might not be particularly fond of water at the moment, given that it’s dripping from your hair and making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin, but given the chance, you’d drown in his voice right now.

“No, it’s perfect. Thanks for coming,” you reply, looking away under the pretense of tugging the hoodie over your head, unable to stare at him without needing to combust any longer.

It isn’t too big for you, just hanging a little bit off of your frame, but it engulfs you perfectly, immediately making you feel cozy and warm.

He starts the car, the bracelets on his arm jiggling lightly as he pushes it into gear. “No problem, really. I don’t mind helping out. Especially if it means you don’t end up staying in the rain and catching a cold.”

An easy smile accompanies his words, and you can only mumble something unintelligible in response, simultaneously flattered, shy and annoyed that you’re feeling.

A comfortable silence settles for an indeterminate period of time. It can’t be more than five minutes, but it feels like much longer before you muster up enough courage to ask, “How are things going at the shop? Everything running on schedule?”

“Yeah, more or less. Hectic, though. Nobody told us it would be this much work.”

There’s no bite in his words, just a mix of passive regret and satisfaction at taking up such a large project and seeing it go through.

“I can tell,” you reply, trying to be supportive. “Tae doesn’t send me as many cat videos as he used to anymore.”

The laugh that you get in response puts angels to shame, and you’re not sure you quite manage to keep the sappy fondness out of your expression when you take in the more relaxed droop in his shoulders and the smoothening of his face, at least a fraction of his regular happiness making a return.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he starts, the atmosphere in the car a little lighter and easier now, thanks to your stellar comedic timing.

“About Tae's cat videos?”

He shoots you a grin as he replies teasingly, “Maybe later. I was talking about the store opening.”

“Has there been a change of date? Last I checked, it was scheduled for Friday, the 17th.”

“It still is. But Boom is on the 18th, so any last minute run-throughs we'll have to get done in the next six days.”

You nod, thoughtfully. “I think we can make that work. We’re in a pretty good position.”

“We work well together,” he says, agreeing, probably not realising that his statement has just sent every nerve ending you have on high alert, shocking you out of that false sense of security you’ve been cocooned in for most of the conversation so far.

You mumble a slow ‘Yeah,’ as he absentmindedly pulls into your road, slowing down as he reaches the apartment.

Whatever ease you were feeling earlier has flown out the window, and now you want nothing more than to leave.

“Thanks for the ride! Oh, let me give you your hoodie bac-"

“Keep it.”

You look up from his hand atop yours, stilling your fingers in their momentarily abandoned mission at the side of your hip, his palm settling atop your fisted knuckles that have fabric twisted in them.

It’s like time’s paused as you see his kind smile, feel the warmth of his hand and the chill of the tips of his fingers that are almost cupping yours.

Swallowing when he makes no attempt to move them, just looking at you half-warning and half-gentle, like he’s daring you to return his sweatshirt when you’re still cold and wet and obviously need it for the walk up to the front door, you softly ask, partly whispering, though you’re not sure why, “Are you sure?”

He doesn’t break eye contact, just gently giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, fingers curling around the wheel once more as he replies, “Yeah, you can return it at our next practice session.”

“Okay,” you mumble, nodding unconsciously and lifting your bag from the floor of the car as if in a dream, waving goodbye hazily until you’re taking the stairs up to your floor.

You unlock the door, and the moment it shuts behind you, you’re turning around and letting your body sag against it, slumped with your bag in one hand and the keys limp in the other.

You distantly hear Jungkook calling out from the living room, his voice getting louder as he limps towards you.

“Y/N, is that you?”

You don’t have it in you to reply, only grunting as you face his approaching form absently.

“Whose jacket is that?”

Fuck.

“Wow.”

You nod, mouth open as you stop next to a similarly gaping Jungkook, frozen in front of the newly unveiled storefront.

The sound of your cab driving away goes unnoticed as you both take in the transformation from the last time you had been here, nearly a week ago.

Since the shop had finally gotten too crowded with items and display pieces, and the storeroom actually had things to be stored, you and Jimin had moved your practices back to your living room with all the furniture (a grand total of one couch and a coffee table) pushed right up to the wall. Consequentially, you haven’t seen the shop in little more than a week.

The cheap plastic board that had been there earlier is now a sleek black and silver plaque with The VMin Experience written on it in that clean, classy, elongated font. From the outside, the freshly wiped glass windows give a direct view into lit up display mannequins clothed in designs. Even at ten in the morning, everything looks sophisticated and chic. There’s a small signboard hanging from the door handle that reads ‘OPENING TODAY!’ right above the PULL sticker.

“Do you think Tae will give us a discount?” you ask, as you take in the pastel pink blazer that the mannequin on the right is wearing.

You aren’t even remotely surprised when your roommate slash the devil incarnate nudges you in the ribs with his elbow and says, grin evident in his voice even if you aren’t looking at him, “I think you’ll have better luck with Jimin.”

After Jimin had dropped you off that night and you had stumbled up to the apartment all in a tizzy, Jungkook had questioned you extensively and didn’t even have the gall to hide his amusement at your retelling. Since then, he’s taken to dropping some very unsubtle hints like leaving post-its around the house with winky faces, which is very unsettling, and always making his SIMS characters kiss whenever you happen to be around.

Mercifully, he hadn’t been too unsufferable whenever Jimin came over for practice, probably realising that it was in his best interests to not antagonise you that much.

And you? You’ve been avoiding everything that even vaguely resembles romantic emotion as staunchly and stubbornly as a mule. God and your phone battery and your browser history (that includes but is not limited to Google searches like crush songs and how to stop thinking, and multiple BuzzFeed articles about zodiac compatibility and quizzes along the general lines of Tell Us Your Favourite Disney Movies And We’ll Tell You If Your Crush Likes You Back, combined with excessive usage of your notes app) might disagree, but that’s nobody’s business.

Especially not Jungkook’s, even if he did hear you singing bubble pop in the shower once.

“After you,” he says, completely ignoring your eye roll and letting you go in front of him, more to avoid the barrage of instructions that you’re both going to be on the receiving end of the moment you step into the store, than any real goodness of his heart.

You flick him half-heartedly on the arm before pulling the door open, immediately assaulted by the smell of fresh items and air conditioning. And something like lavender?

“Oh, good, you’re both here. Could you move that rack a bit to the left?”

You and Jungkook just exchange a short, amused look before obediently moving to opposite sides of the indicated shelf with hangers of clothes and moving it, as directed, a bit to the left.

Taehyung looks uncharacteristically nervous, his usually impeccably trim nails bitten at the edges and a frazzled look on his regularly smooth, bored face, and when the two of you turn to him, ready to receive more directions, he’s in the middle of trying to shift a stand that’s very clearly bolted to the floor.

“Uh, Tae? All good there, buddy?”

You know Jungkook’s talking in that corny voice, calling his friend the superior term of platonic endearment to get him to crack a grin, and it’s worked in the past, but all Tae does now is grunt as he tries harder to push the stubborn stand.

He’s dressed casually in a loose, black and gold button-up shirt tucked into tight, black pants, looking for all he’s worth like a rich patron of a modern art museum or a front row invitee to a global fashion week, but under the lights and with the fancy clothes all around and the sheer aura of expensiveness radiating from every surface of the shop, he fits right in. Apart from the annoyed curl of his lips as he continues his attempt to move a non-budging, nailed down shelf.

An irresistible force against an immovable object, if you will.

Slowly, you and Jungkook approach him, like you’re about to pacify a tantrum throwing toddler.

Hesitantly, you place a palm on his tense shoulder, right as he realises that the stand is attached and lets out an anguished groan.

“Is something wrong?” you ask slowly, when he makes no move to shake your hand off.

He exhales harshly, jaw clenched as he gathers himself before taking a deep breath in.

The verbal reply to your question comes from behind all of you, as Jimin enters the main shop floor from the back room, partway through rolling up the full-length sleeves of his shirt. Your throat goes dry as you take in his formal pants, distantly aware that Taehyung is wearing literally the same thing but had hardly evoked more than a vague sense of appreciation from you.

“He’s been like this all morning,” Jimin says, continuing to make his way closer, looking up for just a second to shoot an amused smile before he goes back to concentrating on rolling his sleeve neatly with one hand.

You don’t know what possesses you to do it, but as you’re looking at his arms twist in his struggle to make it look artfully messy, you blurt out, “Do you need help?”

He gratefully nods, giving up and extending his right arm out to you as he continues, “He wants, and I quote, everything to be so perfect that it puts Hallmark films to shame.”

Behind you, you hear Jungkook snort and reply, “There’s nothing perfect about Hallmark films.”

The sounds of Tae and Kook arguing behind you fade into background noise as you focus on undoing what Jimin’s done so far. You’ve just about finished, tugging out a flap from the fold so it doesn’t look quite so formal and pulling away, when your wrist is caught in a gentle grip.

As studiously as you’ve avoided looking at him directly so far, you can’t stop your gaze from shooting up to his in surprise, breath catching as he smiles at you, a curious mixture of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes.

Dancing together is different from...whatever this is, intense and charged as neither of you look away. The other two have moved towards the back of the shop to prematurely open a champagne bottle for Tae's nerves, but you’re not sure you would have noticed them even if they were still bickering in the vicinity.

He loosens his grip on your hand but doesn’t let go, slightly bending as he says, “Thank you.”

You nod, not trusting your voice and just giving a smile before you gently detach yourself from him, immediately moving towards Jungkook who’s holding out a champagne glass toward you, beckoning you both to participate in the entrepreneurially sanctioned daytime drinking.

As you’re lifting your glass, letting it clink against the others and resolutely not making eye contact with Jimin who’s standing directly opposite you, his cheerful voice joining in the chorus of ‘To paying off student loans!’, your heart and head race a mile a minute.

What does it all mean?

                                   _____________________________

“So he thanked you.”

Huffing, you impatiently repeat to Hyejin's simultaneously confused and unimpressed face, “No, he thanked me.”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

You groan in frustration, letting your arms flop against your sides in abandon as you lean against the side of the closed back room that the two of you have been conversing in for the last ten minutes, ever since you caught sight of her entering the shop and dragged her back right after she congratulated the new business owners.

She had whined a bit about not getting the fancy champagne flute, but once the word ‘Jimin’ had left your mouth, she became mighty compliant.

“I think I’m missing something here. You’re losing your mind in the store room on the opening day of your friends’ shop at 12 PM because...” she trails off, looking at you expectantly with an arched eyebrow.

Something breaks inside you and the next thing you know, you’re venting out in a single breath, nearly tripping over your words, “Because I like Jimin and I think he likes me too, but I’m too scared to say anything or bring it up in case I’m wrong and also, I sort of really want it to be true but I don’t know and I’m scared and I would very much like everything to go back to when this stupid dance competition didn’t exist, because now I keep thinking about ways to spend time with him after tomorrow and I’m embarrassed and feelings suck.”

You’re gasping by the end of it, like you’ve just run a marathon with a cash prize for first place. If you weren’t somehow feeling simultaneously lighter and more exposed, you’d be amused at Hyejin’s expression, but all you can muster is a weak sort of shrug to mask any awkwardness you might be feeling.

She looks like she’s just been slapped across the face with a wet fish, eyes wide and mouth open, but before she can say anything, the door to the left opens and Jungkook walks in, a half-full champagne glass in his hand.

He takes in Hyejin’s expression and your defensive stance that’s combined with the worried furrow of your eyebrows before he slowly says, “I just came here to escape from Yoongi who keeps asking me where his Tupperware is and I’m too scared to tell him I lost it, but there’s a really weird energy in here right now.”

“Jimin thanked Y/N,” Hyejin unhelpfully supplies, looking like she’s slowly regaining her bearings after your emotional outburst.

Jungkook's eyes narrow in confusion as his head tilts, lips pursed. “I feel like there’s more to that story, but I’m not gonna hear any of it.”

You sigh, weight of everything crashing into you as you sit down on the floor cross-legged, staring unseeing at the opposite wall.

At your actions, Jungkook’s eyebrows crease in concern, but his confusion is abundantly evident when he says, “I’m, uh, sure you can tell Jimin not to thank you again if it makes you this sad. Will some champagne make you feel better?”

“Yes, please,” you say, nodding despondently as you accept the glass from him, after which he sits down next to you, twiddling his thumbs, probably wondering why he offered.

For about a minute, the two of you sit there, you completely zoned out, dissociating to cope with the reality of the situation as you take little sips and Jungkook humming something vague, his legs now stretched out in front of him.

You nearly forget that Hyejin’s even in the room until your glass is snatched from your affronted grip and you’re looking up accusingly at her exasperated face.

“Up,” she says shortly, taking one of your hands in hers and pulling you. You have no choice but to follow through, landing shakily and ruefully watching her finish off what’s left of the champagne before she hands the glass to an entertained Jungkook and places both her palms firmly on your shoulders.

Oh no.

“I’m going to tell you something, and you might not like it, but you have to hear it anyway, okay?”

You resist the urge to salute, nodding as you agree. Not that you have an option. You’ve seen Hyejin in intervention mode before, and resisting is like trying to stop a fire from burning.

“You. Are. Incredibly. Stupid.”

Your mouth drops in offense, and you make to defend yourself, but before you can say anything, from the floor, Jungkook cheers, “I knew there was something I missed. What happened?”

Not taking her eyes off of you, Hyejin replies, “Y/N likes Jimin and she thinks he likes her and she’s having a crisis.”

You have hope for a moment, when your trusty roommate scoffs behind you, and you vow to get him something good for his birthday this year, but just as you’re grinning all satisfied at Hyejin, he says, “Of course he likes her. Pfft. That was never the question.”

Coal. He’s getting coal and it won’t even be gift wrapped.

At your shocked expression, he slowly stands up, looking confused as he asks, “Did you...did you not realise?”

Near-hysterical, you reply, turning to face him fully, “No? How was I supposed to realise?”

Jungkook’s looking at you like you’ve grown a third head, like you’re the one who’s just said something completely bizarre, which is absolutely untrue.

“Wait, what did you think her crisis was about?” Hyejin asks, infuriatingly calm at this revelation and completely ignoring the fact that your roommate is spouting enough shit to fill a truck.

“Feelings? In general? I thought she knew about Jimin liking her. I thought you knew about Jimin liking you!”

You throw your arms up in a gesture of annoyance as you hiss, half-frustrated and half-panicking, “How was I supposed to know? Nobody tells me these things!”

“Dude, he's been flirting with you for weeks.”

“No, he has not. You’re wrong. Hyejin, tell him he’s wrong.”

But to your great betrayal, Hyejin doesn’t immediately contest the sheer stupidity of the statement. She gets that look you’re constantly wary of. A ‘hmm, you might have a point there,’ look.

“Actually,” she slowly begins. “Now I think about it, he might be right.”

You groan in frustration as Jungkook continues in the same voice, like he’s still bewildered that you haven’t picked up on any flirty, non-existent signs.

“He gave you his jacket and let you keep it for, like, a week? And he wouldn’t stop looking at you during the photoshoot? And he agreed to dance with you immediately, no questions asked. And don’t even get me started on that evening with the super intense eye contact outside Yoongi's studio. And he agreed to come pick you up in the rain at ass o' clock even when his shop was opening in a week and he was neck deep in work with no complaint, from what I heard. What part of this isn’t registering as ‘I want to hold your hand non-platonically' to you?”

You open and close your mouth, speechless. More out of formality, to put up a fight because weary fear and wary hope makes one do and say stupid things, you softly mutter, “He was just being nice,” but you’ll be the first to admit that there’s more than a tinge of doubt in your voice now.

Hyejin sighs, looking at you kindly as she says, all too knowingly, “I know you’re going to overthink this. But it really, really isn’t a big deal.”

“But what do I do?” you ask, desperation thinly veiled in your voice.

“Nothing, if that’s what you want. Or you could ask him out. Or you could wait for him to ask you out.”

Jungkook nods insistently next to her. “It’s all good, dude.”

Stellar contributor, that one.

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out with a whoosh, you look back at their expectant faces, trepidation in your eyes.

“First, I’d like a glass of champagne.”

The light that enters through the crack in your curtains annoys you, but not enough to make you get up and block it. Your phone is on silent, and for once, you don’t feel the constant, compulsive need to check it.

You don’t feel the need to do anything, really. Here, starfished on your bed, staring blank at the white ceiling is a good place to be. Optimum zoning out position. You’ve gotten so tuned to the sound of the clock on the wall, that you’re certain your heart is now beating in the same rhythm, and the numbness in your foot has been there for so long, you don’t remember who you were before it.

After the...talk in the storeroom yesterday, you wish you could say that your first order of business (after some liquid courage) was to walk right up to Jimin and give it to him straight, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

You had avoided him like the plague, preferring to catch up with Yoongi and hide out in the dressing room armed with clothes you can only afford in your dreams. To top it all, you also had to deal with all this new information and suddenly, you were noticing a lot of interesting things. You’d catch Jimin looking at you at odd moments, and he’d look away after shooting you a small smile that you physically couldn’t not return. He had come over all the way from the other end of the shop to ask you if you wanted another glass of champagne (you had declined), and there were fingers brushing against your shoulder, winks thrown across the room whenever eye contact was made and all of a sudden, you were consumed by this overwhelming feeling of stupidity, all of Jungkook’s points becoming more and more valid with every passing moment.

So, you did what any sane person would do. After congratulating them, and having an incredibly brief conversation with him about the final plan for the competition, you had left (after counting and comparing the amount of time he spent on his hugs with different people, and coming to the conclusion that you got two seconds extra).

You had refused to speak to Jungkook about anything even in the vicinity of the ballpark of whatever you were thinking about on the cab ride back, shovelled in an early dinner, gone straight up to your room and begun to create a definitive flowchart about possible outcomes.

It had been of no help whatsoever, and had only led to you thinking even more until you finally gave up on the project, paper landing on your bed with a comically sad finality, probably still there, lying crumpled under all the pillows.

You had flopped onto your bed, stared at the ceiling until your eyes could stay open no longer, only to wake up to your alarm at 7 AM with the same train of thought in your head continuing where it had left off.

Cut to now, two hours later. You can see your packed bag near the closed door. Jungkook’s knocked twice already, asking if you want breakfast before your big show and you’ve declined both times. You’re already showered and dressed, and both activities were a sort of background noise to the insofar ceaseless thinking in your head.

But now, you’re all thought out. You’re tired godammit, and you know that you’ve spiralled enough for a thousand exam seasons for there to still be some hope that rationality will prevail and a conclusion based on facts can be hit upon. No, you’re done thinking.

It’s time to listen to Kim Jennie, 28, Head of Product Development. No time for being scared. And maybe some advice that’s less daunting and closer to the kind of thing you can vibe without wanting to puke at the thought of, Hyejin’s ‘It isn’t such a big deal.’

Despite the sudden clarity and at least half-way confidence in your constitution, your body’s still playing catch up, and your movements are sluggish as you sit up, coming face to face with your reflection in the mirror. There’s that trepidation that you’re all too aware of in your eyes, but you brush it aside. You’ve got the power of your boss and your friend on your side. And once you tell Jungkook your plan, the moment you figure it out yourself, you’ll have anime too.

You give your reflection one final, determined nod before standing up and collecting your phone and bag. You decide to hold off on opening the curtains just yet. No need to get ahead of yourself. Maybe when you get back. After your fate’s been decided.

Your notifications range from well wishes (Yoongi: Don’t trip like you did during that performance in fifth grade.) to a compilation of cat videos (Tae: to make up for the lack over the last few weeks :D), but the message that your eyes are drawn to is from the man himself.

Jimin (Maybe Interact Sometimes): I’m excited! Let’s kill it!

Unbidden, a smile grows on your face, small at first before slowly growing until you’re beaming at your phone. The familiar pre-performance anticipation settles deep in your bones, and combined with your recently acquired confidence and the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach over the last month or so, it’s a deadly mix.

Feeling heady, you reply with some exclamation points and lock your phone, toning down the grin on your face so your roommate doesn’t think you’ve finally crossed the bend before pushing the door open.

Jungkook’s in the kitchen, sitting over a bowl of cereal, eyes skimming through the newspaper that he’s holding up with one hand. It’s a common enough occurrence, one you see nearly every morning, but it feels different today. You’ve got the enterprise of mission in you.

He notices you entering and opens his mouth to say something, but stops short. You catch sight of your reflection in the glass window behind him, and see that the grin, if not entirely blinding, is still a drastic change from your usual morning grumpiness that Jungkook has the pleasure of poking at every day.

Tentatively, he asks, rather than says, “Good morning?”

Dropping your bag, you make your way to the fridge to get some milk to fix up your own cereal as you reply, cheeriness coming through in your voice even as you try to keep it neutral, “Morning!”

You can feel his quizzical gaze on your back, and he makes no pretense of hiding it when you sit down opposite him, bowl set in front of you.

“Are you done with the newspaper?” you ask, pretending to not notice his staring, absently tapping your spoon against the side of the table as you swallow a mouthful.

He looks confused as he replies, “Am I done with – uh, yeah, here.”

You accept it with a smile and a ‘Thank you!’ before spreading it out on the table in front of you, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other as you hunch over to read.

It only takes a few seconds for Jungkook to break the silence. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, peachy. Excited about the competition!”

You look up at the fag end of your sentence, just in time to catch his deeply mistrusting gaze.

“Nervous?” he asks, like a detective looking for a lead.

You direct your gaze back to the editorial page as you shake your head and respond simply, “Nope.”

That’s a blatant lie, and you’re sure that as soon as ten minutes from now, you’re going to start realising the gravity of the situation (prize money is a powerful incentive), but that bridge hasn’t even been built yet, leave alone reached.

There’s silence for a while, you reading the paper while eating your cereal and Jungkook looking at you shrewdly, like he’s trying to read your mind and figure out how you’ve made a complete 180 from yesterday.

When you deem the time right, you say matter-of-factly, “Might ask Jimin out today.”

It’s quite unfortunate that you aren’t looking up when you utter those words. Jungkook’s in the middle of a sip of coffee, and it takes a minute for him to stop choking and sputtering.

“You what?”

“Might ask Jimin out today,” you repeat with a shrug, folding the paper after finishing the comics section and directing your gaze at his startled face.

He narrows his eyes, scepticism in his voice as he asks, “What do you mean you might ask Jimin out today?”

“For somebody who’s a journalist and about to be a published author, you’re having an awfully hard time comprehending words, aren’t you?”

He groans in annoyance as you smile pleasantly, enjoying the overall effect of this conversation.

Gathering himself, he slowly enquires, “So you just woke up today morning and decided that you’re going to do this?”

“Yep,” you reply, popping the p.

He scrutinises you carefully, looking for traces of bullshit. Finding none, he slowly begins to smile. And then you’re smiling. And then he’s smiling wider, and now you’re both grinning at each other like a pair of fools. If anybody were to walk into the kitchen now, they’d take one look before turning around and marching right back out.

Jungkook lets out a small giggle, partly in residual disbelief and partly in excitement, and your nervousness and anticipation manifests in the same way.

“When are you going to do it?” he asks, eyes twinkling as he stifles his laughter.

“No idea,” you reply, standing up with your bowl and making your way to the sink with him in tow.

“You mean you haven’t thought this to death and made a timeline down to the millisecond about how your plan’s going to unfold? I’m shocked.”

There’s no bite in his words, though, and you merely bump him on the side as you wash your bowl, him drying his next to you. “I’m tired of thinking. Time to get shit done.”

A pause as Jungkook whoops in support, and then you’re asking, “Is this a terrible idea? Should I not do this today? What if I screw up while dancing?”

You don’t know where the sudden uncertainty is coming from. Maybe everything’s finally catching up to you, but abruptly, you need some reassurance that you aren’t in over your head, that you aren’t going to fuck up.

“None of that now,” Jungkook says bossily, drying his hands and placing his palms on your shoulders, turning you so you’re facing him. “You’ve got a cash prize to win and a crush to ask out. No time for being scared and mopey. You know why? ‘Cause you’re a lean, mean singing machine.”

“I’m not lean.”

“Mean singing machine.”

“I’m actually quite nice, I think.”

“Singing machine.”

“This is a dance competition.”

He huffs in annoyance, but there’s a glint of relief in his eyes at your return to admittedly uncharacteristic optimism.

“Phineas and Ferb quotes shouldn’t be adapted,” he staunchly says, nose teasingly up in the air as he lets you go so you can pick up your bag.

“Not by you, they shouldn’t.”

“Okay, why don’t you book the cab, yeah?” he says, marching your giggling frame out the door.

The large board next to the main, high school auditorium entrance reads ‘PARTICIPANTS HERE' followed by a red arrow pointing to a small door that presumably leads to the green room.

You and Jungkook stop a few paces away, moving closer to the wall so you aren’t blocking the hallway that’s teeming with audience members trying to enter. Some of them take in your outfit and wish you luck, to which you reply with a grateful nod.

The confidence you were feeling earlier has been replaced by the shaky excitement that accompanies a performance. You wonder what you were thinking, deciding to launch your amoratic venture on the same day as the competition. Like you don’t have enough to be nervous about. But a plan is a plan, and you’re sure you’ll chicken out and/or rip all your hair out in frustration if you go another day without dealing with it.

But prize money first. Boys after.

“Y/N.”

“Yes,” you reply, trying to mimic Jungkook’s firm voice, even as your eyes take in the large crowd of people who are going to be watching.

“Let's get this bread,” he says.

You nod, taking strength in the knowledge that Mr. Kibum is judging, that you’re dancing with your childhood best friend, that Hyejin’s going to be in the green room as well, that Jungkook, Yoongi and Tae are all going to be cheering you on from the crowd, that this is dance.

The wink he offers you leaves no doubt of the fact that he means other breads as well and not just the show, but you ignore it. Focus is key.

“Break a leg!” he cheers, ironically enough seeing as how his ankle is still in a cast, despite the fact that he can walk now with a barely noticeable limp.

You shakily smile in response before waving and ducking into the room you’re supposed to go into.

Immediately, the loud noise and chatter from the corridor becomes muffled as you’re wrapped in a quiet air of anticipation and nerves that hangs heavy. A few people look up when you enter, the ones you know offer you a weak smile that you return. In the corner of the room, you spot Hyejin and Jimin doing their stretches, much like majority of the other participants strewn around.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve effectively temporarily suppressed your feelings in favour of focusing on the competition, or maybe that you’ve finally accepted them and decided to do something about them, but all you feel is a sort of calm glow when you see him. Your stomach does give a weak, little flop, but you don’t experience that urge to escape as a first instinct, like you’ve become so accustomed to recently.

You scuttle over, taking care not to hit anybody with the swinging bag dangling from your side.

“Hey,” you mumble, easily accepting Jimin’s hug as he smiles at you and grinning at a mid-split Hyejin.

You begin jogging in place to warm up to stretch as Taemin enters the room, fedora full of chits in his hand.

“It’s time to decide the order of performing! Everybody gather around.”

Hyejin smoothly gets up with her freakish core strength as you and Jimin look at each other. There’s a dash of glitter on his eyelashes, subtly sparkling in the light, and you can swear, at that moment, that he’s easily the most beautiful person in this room. Hell, in this building.

“You wanna pick?” he asks, quirking his head to the side.

Ordinarily, you’d decline. But with the clouds you’re walking on, maybe you should try your luck.

“Sure,” you reply, making your way to the slowly gathering crowd that’s surrounding a hassled looking Taemin.

You huff in preparation before sticking you forearm into the hat blindly and snatching the first chit your fingers close around. Somebody’s nails scratch you, but you’re too distracted, fighting your way out of the group of people, eager to reach Jimin on the outskirts so you can open the tightly clutched paper in your hand and see your fate.

“Ready?” you ask, once you’re standing in front of him.

He nods eagerly. There’s a flush on his cheeks, a light in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and the memory of watching him dance in that practice room for the first time all those weeks ago, with all that love and passion and elegant control enters your head unbidden. You feel a little sickened by the amount your heart warms when you think of Jimin getting this opportunity to do what he loves on stage.

You slowly open the paper, only for your heart to veritably pause for a second when you read what’s written.

No fucking way.

You look up, unable to keep the apologetic grimace from your face as you see him half-amused, half-disbelieving.

From the other end of the room, Taemin calls out “Team number 1!”

You and Jimin look at each other briefly before making your way towards him. Around you, you can hear small whoops. You think the muted laughter is from Hyejin.

“Pendrive?” he asks all business-like, hand stuck out, palm up, giving no indication that he knows the two of you, that he sees you every Saturday, that he was going to be Jimin’s partner first.

But the small ‘Good luck,’ and smile he gives as you’re both making to go away after handing over your music more than makes up for it.

Jimin leads the way to the corner of the room as the other teams go up in order and give their tracks. There’s silence for a second as you survey each other, trying to figure out just how surreal of a possibility this is.

You break it by mumbling, “Oops.”

All it takes is that stellar wit and ill-placed asinine humour for the tension in his shoulders to drop just a tad and his lips to quirk up, as he nods and says, amused, “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“We were going to go up anyway,” you reason, trying to make light of the universe screwing you over.

Agreeing, he replies, “Yeah, and now we can watch the other performers without being too distracted.”

You nod, humming, taking courage in these sad attempts at positivity.

You’re running through the choreography in your head, when you notice Jimin moving next to you, turning to face your body from his previous arms out, wrists rotating position.

“Hey,” he starts softly to get your attention, like you aren’t hyper aware of his presence and that the plan to act on your...romantic feelings is still very much present, even if it isn’t at the forefront of your brain.

You hum in reply, signalling him to continue.

“Regardless of what happens, I’m really glad I got to do this with you.”

You don’t know why you’re caught off guard, but you hide it best as you can when you reply with a smile, the most genuine one you have, “Same here.”

If anybody were to look at you, they’d see that :D emoticon that Tae's so fond of.

You think he’s going to stop there, but even as he turns back and continues stretching, feet shoulder width apart and hands on his hips, he says, “It was a lot of fun and I like dancing with you.”

You feel a warm glow at the comment, a soft shiver running down your spine as you take in the slightly reddish hue of the side of his neck and everything it indicates.

He likes likes you.

You’re not sure what possesses you to say it then, what stupid prank-pulling higher power decides that now would be a good time to do this, less than ten minutes before dancing together so you can’t even escape if things go sideways, but the next thing you know, the words are spilling out from your mouth of their own accord, tumbling over one other in a mad rush of adrenaline and bashfulness and nerves.

“Doyouwannagooutwithmesometime?”

You’re as startled as he is, maybe even more at this betrayal by your own lips, and you wish you could take it back the moment you say it, because now is not the time.

But thankfully, it doesn’t seem like he understood your stupid babble, and at the confused tilt of his head and his soft ‘Excuse me?’, you just shake your head and slowly say, avoiding his eyes, stuttering as your brain works in overtime, “I just said that...we both had a good time. Doing this, I mean. The, er – dancing.”

He accepts the explanation easily, bless his soul, but it’s still a relief when Taemin calls out that the competition is about to start and the two of you are up.

With one last nod and smile, as you force your head and heart to refocus, and manage to do so admirably well considering how close to fucking up you were, you and Jimin exit the room from the side door that leads to the auditorium, softly padding onto the dark stage behind the closed curtains and getting into the start position.

You meet his gaze as they announce your names, and the fabric of his t-shirt feels comfortably warm against your palm as they slowly open the curtains, and hundreds of eyes land on you.

The surrounding lights are bright and the attention nearly deafening, but nothing is quite as blinding and arresting as the look in his eyes as they bore into yours. The subtle pressure of his arm around your waist feels thrillingly familiar, but as you’re both waiting for the cheers to die down and the track to start, he goes off script.

Bending his head slightly, he begins to whisper, so subtly that nobody in the audience can notice unless they’re focusing very intently on his lips. Which...you wouldn’t blame them.

“You have horrible timing, but yes.”

And just like that, before you can even think about pulling away to look at him in shock, the demand for a less cryptic sentence, despite there being absolutely no doubt as to what he’s referring to, hot on your lips accompanied by the tingling certainty you feel when you look at his twinkling eyes that are partly mischievous but more noticeably excited, performance adrenaline taking strong hold, the music begins. With a small squeeze on your waist, he reverts to serious dancer mode from his previous Little Shit setting, taking a deep breath and twirling you away with a wink as you let the relief and joy and excitement flow through your body as you begin the routine.

“What’s this?”

“What’s wha – oh, fuck.”

You practically vault across the bed to get to the other side of your room so you can wrench the paper out of Jimin’s grip. He lets it go easily enough, a little startled at your sudden vehemence but amused nonetheless.

As you furiously rip it apart, not meeting his eyes, he teasingly says, “I’m pretty sure I read my name. Have you been making lists about me?”

“I have not,” you reply hotly, dropping the pieces of paper into your dustbin and gathering yourself so you can face him defiantly.

“It was a...to-do list.”

His eyebrow arches, eyes twinkling as he remarks, “At least take me out first.”

You huff, cheeks burning. “Not like that.”

He takes his shoes off, grin firm on his face as he sits cross-legged on the bed, facing your still shut laptop at the foot. “Well, you’ve got me in your room now, so I’ll let you have your way with me.”

You roll your eyes as you pick up the pizza box and place it on the centre of the bed, getting comfortable next to it.

“Second place isn’t so bad,” Jimin says thoughtfully a few minutes later, as you’re both watching the video buffer as you chew on dinner.

Nodding, feeling a warm glow at the current state of affairs and probably the most calm you’ve been in the last three weeks, not to mention an immeasurable sense of relief at not having to overthink yourself to sleep, you reply, unable to keep the shy smile off of your face, “Yeah, this is nice.”

Not that you've spoken about what this is. After the show, there had been a celebratory hug, which may have been just a tad tighter and a smidge longer than previous hugs, before the two of you were whisked away by the organisers for photos and caught up in a flurry of congratulations. As you had both stood at the back of the auditorium, blending into the shadows like the other participants that came to join you after their shows, watching the dancers on stage, there had been a kind of tension that comes with unresolved conversation. But for once, you were perfectly content just existing. There’s only so much emotional upheaval that you can manage in a day.

There had been brushing hands and awkward eye contact that was diffused by timid giggling and grins, but not much talking. Turns out, you’re both wimps.

And after you two had received second place and, along with Jungkook and Tae, eaten lunch at a nearby restaurant, right before everybody had parted ways, you had given yourself a pep talk, practiced in front of the bathroom mirror around ten times, and then gently tugged Jimin to the side and said, voice carefully controlled and tone slightly less rushed than the last time you had done this, “Hey, do you wanna come over for pizza tonight? And maybe a movie, or something?”

The smile accompanying the ‘Sure, that sounds great!’ you received was blinding, and a little relieved. Jungkook’s reaction when you told him on the way back, after letting him stew in silence for a bit, just for the fun of it, had been offensively surprised, like he hadn’t believed you’d go through with it.

(“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I had utmost faith in your plan.”

“Liar.”)

And now Jimin’s in your room (Jungkook’s probably right outside, ear pressed to the door), food in hand, The Office playing on the laptop screen (you had both agreed that a movie would require an unavailable amount of attention after such a long day), his knee comfortably resting against yours like a constant reminder that he’s there, as if you can forget.

And it’s easy.

Like an upgraded version of the old days, that comes with blushing and giggling and a nosy roommate who's given up trying to be subtle.

~

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