#or until you take that piece of plastic wrapper from them that you have no idea where they got

[brainlessbaguette]

Was doing warmups and zoned out, ended up doodling my pets, thought it was funny so I'm sharing because why not.

Oh psa tho, I am not endorsing or encouraging allowing prey animals around predator, that can and often does end really badly, this is clearly exaggerated and my doggo is trained to be okay around my rabbit.

#thought Id add that last bit in because I dont want little timmy to go grab his hamster and set it next to his dog #i would literally not be able to sleep at night if my stupid warm up doodle got a little guy injured #on a side not tho my dog is in way more danger here #rabbits are angry little guys #like super sweet until you tell them they need to go on a diet cause theyre getting chubby #or until you move literally anything they touched #or until you take that piece of plastic wrapper from them that you have no idea where they got #i do love him but hed absolutley fight her and my sweet doggo would lose horribly #like shes already has meds for anxiety #she would crumble #okay I have no idea what actual tags to put on this if any #doodle #i guess #dog #doggo #rabbit

[wave2tyun]

meddle about | ☆

pairing: idol!yeonjun x idol!reader

genre: idol!au, best friends to lovers, some fluff but also a bit suggestive (?) towards the end

prompts: – “you’re blushing”

– “i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now”

warnings: none!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: the inspiration for this came from a wonho photoshoot behind the scenes clip that i randomly saw on ig reels........😟 i hope there aren't any mistakes left in this because i've been lazy and going only by trust when i repost fics asdbhja

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

you and yeonjun didn’t exactly meet…under the greatest circumstances.

as txt’s fame was continuously on the rise, there was no way you had never heard of yeonjun, or the name tomorrow x together. however, it was only when you had your comeback stage at inkigayo that you finally got to see yeonjun in real life, and not just on a screen.

you expected things to go smoothly. yeonjun was going to just take your interview, and then you were going to simply perform with your group on stage, as usual.  

realistically speaking, that was supposed to be it- nothing more than a polite, professional interaction, he was the mc after all. you didn’t even think you’d cross paths with him throughout the day again. but the lunch break had something -quite staggering- in store for you:

the inkigayo sandwich. those words still make you shudder.

as an idol, you had to have one, at least once. it was the talk of town after all, even though the combination of egg, crab and strawberry jam- all squished together between 3 pieces of white bread- didn’t exactly sound appealing to you.

you gulped as you looked at the piece of food in your hands; the smell wasn’t that appetizing either, and you wondered how it was possible for them to have such high sales for a shitty product.

you didn’t want to do it, but the thought of wasting your money without at least having a bite was haunting you. you closed your eyes, anticipating the worst outcome imaginable as the sandwich came closer and closer towards your mouth.

“hey- at least remove that paper before you start eating” one of your members said, making you frown. paper? what paper? the ingredients of the sandwich were already weird enough, what did they add that paper for?

confused, you opened your eyes again, a small note had been carefully placed somewhere between the plastic wrapper and the bread. grossed out, you removed it, moving towards the trash can to throw it away, only to get a glance of a phone number written on the back of it, making you stop in your tracks.

‘call me ;) - choi yeonjun’

now, you see- you only knew that the inkigayo sandwich was famous, you didn’t know why it was famous. 

you angrily searched for choi yeonjun around the cafeteria, shoving the sandwich towards his chest once you found him “what the fuck is this?” you hissed appaled by his actions. not sparing him a single moment to respond, you instantly got into a rant about how you were ‘put in danger’ by him for placing something (almost) inedible in your lunch.

he stared at you with big eyes and raised eyebrows, panicking that you’d blow this out of proportion even more if he excused himself before you were done blowing off some steam. he knew very well not to argue with a sleep deprived person who was also hungry.

“that actually wasn’t meant for you…” he muttered in the end, biting his cheek.

“oh.”

on the way back to the dorms, you swore you’d never step foot back into inkigayo ever again, or at least not until yeonjun stepped down from his position as an mc.

despite the seemingly traumatic event, you still kept the piece of paper containing his number, jam stain and all. you fiddled it around your fingers as you rolled around in bed, unable to fall asleep. it was way past midnight, and the remorse you felt for not having apologised to yeonjun was keeping you wide awake. you had been too embarrassed to utter any more words after hearing his reply and used the first opportunity -which was a member calling out for you- to leave the room. 

the guilt was eating you up, and, in the end, you decided it was best to at least say sorry to him through text. and so you did- not exactly expecting much besides getting blocked by him. 

turns out yeonjun found the situation more amusing rather than infuriating. he accepted your apology with ease, and you promised that you’d buy him lunch the next time you visit inkigayo, as emotional compensation.

yeonjun, however, lied to you that day. the phone number in the sandwich was, in fact, meant for you. he heard from his seniors that ‘back in the day’, this was a particularly popular method to start dating between idols. when it was announced that you’d perform on the day he was mc-ing, he found his chance, took it, then pretty much failed miserably. his attempt at getting to know you better was somewhat saved by your apology text. after the whole ordeal, he decided that it was better to take it step by step and develop his friendship with you before dipping his toes into the dating scheme once again.

bit by bit- yeonjun began to reveal his flirty nature. first, he started bringing food and drinks to your company whenever you told him you had to stay up late, practicing overnight. then, he made sure to always compliment how you looked in music videos or album teasers, sometimes even sending coffee trucks to the filming sites to support you. finally, he started bringing you flowers whenever you were done with comeback stages. the change in his attitude was making you question the status of your relationship. still, knowing how risky this all was, you decided it was foolish to jump to any conclusions- although a part of your heart did cling tightly onto the hope that he did this because he saw you as something more than a friend.

it was no surprise to the public eye that the two of you were close friends in the industry. so, when elle korea wanted a photoshoot between a pair with good chemistry, yeonjun ran to his managers, begging to convince some of the higher-ups to recommend the two of you. not a single soul in the company was able to resist him, so he successfully scored the spot. however, you were only informed that you received an offer for the photoshoot, not that yeonjun had been involved in this whole ordeal.

the concept was not quite what you were expecting.

when you heard the words “a pair with good chemistry” you were expecting a fun, bubbly photoshoot, something colorful maybe- not a sensual, romantic theme. you choked on your spit when they showed you the outfit you were supposed to wear, then choked again when you saw yeonjun’s outfit: black pants and a blue satin button-up shirt that had more than 3 buttons left open, exposing the skin of his chest. 

and -as if the revealing clothes weren’t enough- there was one more detail left that would supposedly “tie this all together”: a kiss mark. on yeonjun’s neck. 

the staff handed you a tube of red lipstick, shoving you and yeonjun in a private dressing room before you could even process the situation.

you stole a look at yeonjun, who pursed his lips, trying to contain his laugh as he made eye contact with you.

“did you know about this?” you asked him with a serious face, pointing the lipstick towards him. why were you the only one baffled here?

yeonjun couldn’t help but let out tiny squeaks as he struggled calm down, your shocked, accusatory expression all too entertaining for him “no” he snickered “why? are you nervous? think you can’t do it?” he crossed his arms.

the attitude with which he said that only earned him a scoff from you “of course i can do it” you said as you walked towards the mirror. once you were in front of it though, you were suddenly way more aware of how sweaty your palms were getting, hands trembling a bit as you put the lipstick on.

yeonjun was never one to shy away from physical touch. you were used to receiving hugs from him, sometimes even having him hold onto your hand or arm, swinging them playfully whenever you walked together. but this? this felt…different. 

intimate. 

it was like a possible breach within your friendship. and while you weren’t exactly nervous about the situation itself, you were definitely afraid about what was going to happen between the two of you after.

yeonjun was already behind you once you finished putting on the makeup and turned around. the playful smirk he’s had ever since you both entered the room never left his face. he lightly quirked up an eyebrow, provoking you to make the move- curious to see if your earlier statement was the truth or whether they were just empty words. unsure what to do with your hands, your fingers didn’t let go of the lipstick tube, playing with it in a restless manner as you inched closer towards yeonjun’s neck. the citrus fragrance of his perfume still lingered on the skin, and you closed your eyes as you left a quick kiss there, the touch too light to leave a mark visible enough. 

“you’re blushing” yeonjun chuckled, tilting his head as he looked in the mirror behind you, clicking his tongue “that’s not right…” he muttered. his gaze was fixated on your face for a few seconds, admiring the pink dusting your cheeks. then, they trailed off to your hands, snatching the item to cover his own lips in that same crimson color. “this is how you do it” he whispered, dipping his head down, arms sneaking around your waist simultaneously. warm breath on your neck, chest flushed against yours, yeonjun could feel your racing pulse underneath his lips as he pressed a long kiss on the hot skin. the chilling sensation running down your spine had your hands unconsciously reaching out for his forearms, holding onto them to keep yourself steady and not slip away from his grasp. 

“i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now” he breathed out, fingers tracing lines along the small of your back. seeing that you weren’t pushing him away, his face didn’t leave its close spot to your body. instead- his lips travelled along the skin, pressing featherly kisses along the way- nibbling, lightly biting, the red marks blooming being hidden away by the lipstick covering them.

the mirrors, the vanity lights, even the photoshoot itself, they were all turning into a hazy memory as you were becoming more and more enthralled by him. completely absorbed by his touch on your body, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to breathe properly again until he carried on with the next step. “jun-” the sound of the nickname was enough to send an electrifying jolt throughout his heart. his own breathing was irregular as he stopped, distancing himself a bit from your neck to lift his head up, plush lips and smudged lipstick coming into sight. 

“we’re not leaving this room until you kiss me on the lips”

taglist: @huekalover3000

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun fic #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun headcanons

[lovesickletters]

💜𝒮𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃ℯ 𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉💜

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹ℯ𝓌 𝒱𝒶𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓎 | 𝒮ℯ𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃／ℰ𝓁𝓁𝒾ℴ𝓉／ℋ𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓎 𝓍 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇 {𝒮ℯ𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓎}

𝒮ℯ𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃

It was the usual time, on that particular night when you stepped onto the veranda and felt a wave of the warm spring air wash over you, that you saw Sebastian sitting on the edge of the patio, one leg hanging off the side as he leaned on his other knee tucked close to his chest. You could already guess why from the small white stick clutched in his hand and the small rectangular box sitting beside him. His head swivelled to greet you, nodding briefly at you with the look of someone caught off guard.

“Hey.”

He turned back to looking out across the rolling fields of crops and sleepy barns full of assortments of animals, something clearly playing on his mind he didn’t care to toss into the air. He liked to come out here to think, and have a smoke, occasionally.

You took a seat beside him, and raised your eyebrows in surprise as the writing on the package beside him became clearer with proximity.

“Yeah, candy cigarettes. It’s not much but I guess it’s something.” He smiled at you, placing the end of one between his lips idly like a real cigarette. A cruelly sweet idea popped into your head.

Unable to resist the chance to playfully scare him you leaned all the way in towards him, your hand sweeping up to take a hold of his chin and turn his face back towards you. The candy cigarette went limp between his limps as he flushed, looking back at you with a startled, flustered expression as you leaned in close…

And with a *crunch* you stole the end of his candy treat, moving back with a wicked smirk as you did so. His eyebrows knit together in cute yet annoyed confusion as he huffed, his blush going tomato red from the way your shoulders shook with the chuckle you were holding back.

“You’re sleeping on the couch for that.”

ℰ𝓁𝓁𝒾ℴ𝓉

With an overexcited grin you proudly thrust your prize in front of Elliot’s face, showing off a shiny new lollipop you’d won at The Valley fair earlier. It was far too large and bright red, like every stereotypical lollipop ever. There was a bow neatly tied around the top of the stick and a little piece of card attached to a string on it, reading in scrawled lettering;

*’To: Elliot’*

Despite the unorthodox manner in which you presented your gift to him, he took your offering graciously, and couldn’t stop the smile that fought its way to his face as he thanked you for the gift.

“I won this for you at the fair! I hope you like it, try it now!!”

“Well I suppose I could take a break from my writing desk for today. Better than staring at an empty page all day!”

With your pressuring and the tempting state of the lollipop Elliot smiled cheerfully and began removing the wrapper in a careful manner, taking care not to drop the wrapper on the ground. It was only when the plastic wrapping had been fully removed did you realise the consequences of your actions, as with a sparkle in his eye, Elliot began licking and sucking at the lolly with an agonising manner. Taking care to taste every bit of it as he lowered it down to the base of his tongue in the way one might hypothetically place something larger inside you were only too aware of the blush creeping across your face.

With a pop, Elliot pulled the treat from his mouth, brushing his long hair out of the way as he looked at you, struggling to keep a smirk off of his face as you steamed.

“Oh my dear, is something the matter?”

ℋ𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓎

“Haley, look!”

Haley’s attention drifted from the lip gloss she was applying with the help of her compact mirror towards your grinning face. You were showing her something, a set of beads on a string around your neck. Upon further inspection as she looked closer, she could see it was one of those candy necklaces that little kids would wear years ago. She could recall wearing layers of them as a kid like they were fine jewellery, or at least until her sister Emily devoured them.

Refocusing back on your face, she could faintly hear you talking about some menial tasks you did that day, planted some new vegetables and milked some cows or whatever it is farmers do. She knew she should be paying more attention but she was distracted by a wonderful idea that popped into her head out of nowhere.

“…-And then I had to go see Marnie about this chicken of hers because- Haley? What are you doing?” You were pulled from your spiel by the sight of Haley’s eyes continuing to rest on your neck distractingly. “Oh yeah, if you want to try them I have some extra-“

She moved faster than you expected, placing her lips against your throat without warning. Your hands went to her shoulders on instinct, pressing back on them as you felt her nip at your skin, smearing lip gloss as she went. A shiver went up your spine as she licked and bit at your neck, letting out a sigh.

“Mmmm~ so sweet~!”

Moving away without any recognition of what she’d just done she pulled out her mirror again to reapply her lip gloss, crumbled bits of necklace still sitting on her lower lip. “You can continue going on about your chickens, or whatever-“

#stardew valley #Stardew valley x Reader #Sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian x reader #haley x reader #haley sdv x reader #elliot sdv x reader #elliot x reader #stardew haley x reader #stardew elliot x reader #🤍𝓁𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉🤍 #🌹𝓈𝒻𝓌🌹

[filthforfriends]

Lighthouse

Thomas x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3.6k

TW: This is based on an ask I got over a year ago for a Thomas fic where reader is triggered by people yelling and he calms them down. Mentions of probable domestic abuse and vague implications of childhood abuse, neither necessarily physical.

Canvas bag in your left, Thomas’ hand in your right, the crisp spring air was maddening in that it made your nose cold and absolutely nothing else. Today was the first farmers market this year, more trinkets than produce because very little was ripe. Thomas wore a beanie to avoid being recognized, but got so annoyed with the thing that he took it off before you’d even exited the train. Now it was a bulge in his jacket pocket, taunting you with the possibility of falling onto the stale city street.

It was nice to have these as your day’s worries: skin bitten by the cold breeze, the lack of seasonal vegetables, a lost hat. There’d been a time when you prayed for the mundane, for stupid arguments over socks on the living room floor or the last cup of coffee already drunk. Socks could be washed and more coffee made. The problem with a broken home is that the pieces never quite fit back together. Too sharp.

“Hey.” Thomas shoulder checks you, using your intertwined hands to prevent tripping. He’s gotten good at spotting when your thoughts start circling the drain.

“Hey, sorry,” you huff, remembering to breathe.

“Don't apologize.” He kisses the top of your head, dramatically swinging your arms as a distraction. Because of the foot in height difference he’s jerking you around a bit. It’s annoying and very effective at getting you mentally unstuck.

“Okay, okay.” You smile, and instead of calling that a victory, Thomas starts walking backwards, tugging some more.

“I’m gonna trip and die or you’re gonna trip and die.”

“Such a pessimist,” he complains, with a theatrical eye roll. Tommy stops walking and you run into him, but it's purposeful. He’s ready for the forward momentum and drops your hand to wrap you in a hug. 

“It's inconvenient, how good you’ve become at reading my facial expressions,” you mumble into his jacket, zipper pressing into your cheek.

“And you can tell when I’m hungry when I can’t tell that I’m hungry.” 

“Mind reading is a cooler super power than being a hunger meter.”

“Mm mm, I disagree.” He loosens his arms so you can pull back and see each other.

“You’d look damn good in a cape though.” Tommy has this special smile that's exclusive to your compliments. He doesn’t worry that the adorable soft spot under his chin turns into a roll. His nose scrunches, revealing the minor asymmetries of his perfect mouth. Thomas had a tooth pulled on the right side at age 11, so only the left side is slightly crowded. In moments of intense passion you liked to lick where his canine overlapped with the tooth behind it. He never quite understood that.

“Well, I can’t argue with facts,” he shrugs, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the station. 

“Maybe they’ll have a cape vendor next week!” From then on, things are light hearted, because he's so good at that. The train is mostly empty, which somehow makes the plastic seating marginally less uncomfortable. Thomas takes a piece of gum out of your purse, laughing at the collection of accidently stolen pens bearing the insignia of various offices. Before he can crumple the wrapper, you take it and the Central Manhattan Dentistry pen to make a sketch of Thomas. He strikes a philosophical pose and you use your knee cap as a table for seven stops. 

“You need to pick a pose you can hold.”

“I can hold this,” he insists, chin in the deep between his thumb and pointer finger. He starts regretting it at stop two, but doesn’t admit defeat until stop five. Of course the drawing is horrible, but efforts to throw it away are met with progressively more zealous insistence from Thomas that the piece be displayed in custom framing. Through all the squabbling, the wrapper gets torn accidentally. Automatically, you brace for the fallout.

“Aww! You’ll have to draw me another one next week,” he laughs, rubbing your arm affectionately, lips to temple. It was his Everything Is Okay kiss, his You Didn’t Mess Up At All kiss, his I’m Not Mad At You Baby kiss, his I’m Never Gonna Yell kiss. 

“You know, I was thinking we should finish the ciabatta loaf today, before it goes stale. Your mint plant has been looking really good. I read this new technique where you turn the pot a quarter every week so the sun…” The gum wrapper flutters to the floor as you stand to get off, all of it forgotten.

Three blocks away from your second home and you realize it's gonna be one of those days. One of those days where your mind and the world collaborate to make you dust off every single coping mechanism in your repertoire. On the opposite side of the street a group of five wearing NYU swag are captivated by the epic row between similarly aged romantic partners. A man and a woman screaming with both windows open.

“Who the fuck doesn’t have the decency to close their windows?” This question is promptly answered, as the woman launches a speaker out of the second story window. Thomas stops to watch with his mouth agape, enthralled. On the other side of the street, you may be safe from shrapnel, but those college kids are taking chances with their proximity. What if one of them got hurt? Who would take them to the hospital? Which hospital? Would you have to call 911? Would they get mad at you for calling 911? What if the disbatcher fucks up and the ambulence never comes?

“You fucking bitch, this is the kind of shit that makes me want to wring your neck!”

“Oh yeah, threaten me, baby,” she replies with heavy sarcasm, bending over to push something towards the window. The man lunges in her direction. He’s going to slap her. He’s just picking something up. It's a toaster. He’s gonna bludgeon her with the toaster. No he’s throwing it out the window. This one lands on a car and the alarm begins blaring.

“Holy shit, this is like reality TV in real life,” Thomas chuckles. 

“I don’t want to threaten you! I don’t want to be that guy! But you make me into that guy!” You make me.

“I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU,” she screams, hysterically trying to convince herself of this fact. She was terrified and sent a second speaker out the window. This one lands differently. Instead of a thud, you can hear it break into pieces as soon as it hits the cement. She has to get out of there. They’re both wasted, but she's belligerent and slurring. 

“I don’t want you to be scared of me, you crazy bitch! I deserve respect, as the man of the house!” he bellows. You shudder violently, because that sentence is way too familiar. 

“I already called the police so shut the fuck up!” screams someone from the unit directly behind you. This time you startle so severely that your feet leave the ground for a moment. The man throws the microwave out of the window and the glass tray inside breaks. The sound of glass breaking always made you nauseous, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t even blink.

“Yeah? And what the fuck do you think the police are going to do!? Fucking NOTHING.” Her voice is guttural, rubbed raw and trashed. You can taste the copper in your mouth, just like you know she can. Blood diluted by spit from screaming. 

“Get out. Get out! GET THE FUCK OUT,” she wails, nearly falling over as she points to the window.

“This is my apartment. I pay for ALL of this shit!” There's that male rage again, its only purpose is to create subservience out of fear. Compliance from children who just want the sound to stop, whose insides get twisted up everytime their caretaker uses fear as a means to an end and then calls that love. Children who grow up damaged because they were taught that the world is scary and ruthless and unfeeling. 

If you hadn’t been in the midst of a flashback, your reflexes would have been better. Plates, glasses, mugs, the sounds of these breaking were your biggest triggers, the thing you just couldn’t defeat. When the woman pours a half-packed cardboard box out of the window, you can’t get your hands over your ears fast enough. It’s all kitchenware and at least half a dozen plates have shattered on the pavement by the time you’ve muffled the sound.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. No! No, no! STOP!” Someone was screaming, but not the woman in the second story apartment. It was your mother’s voice, or maybe your sister’s. They didn’t even live in this state, what the hell were they doing here? You can feel yourself being shaken, and only then realize that you’re in the dark.

“Y/n? Y/n? Y/n, amour, amour, tell me what's happening. Tesorina, do you need me to – should I, um, do I call…I don't know. I don’t know how to help. I should and I don’t. Fuck.” Finally you’re aware that the voice is speaking to you directly and open your eyes. Tommy is alarmed, bordering on panic. Finally the connection is made: you were the one screaming. Seeing his face brings the present into focus. He’s sitting on the ground which is why you’re crouched over. Or rather the cause and effect is the other way around.

One artichoke is on top of the storm drain, canvas bag crumpled beside you. The blown glass guitar Thomas had purchased and entrusted you to carry is shattered beyond repair. That metaphor and the public embarrassment, is what finally brings you to tears. 

“I br – bro – oke it. ‘M s – sorry.” Thomas looks absolutely mystified until he follows your line of sight. Hands still clamped over your ears, it sounds like you’re speaking underwater.

“Oh my god, tesorina, I don’t care. What can I do?”

“Home,” you squeak, vision blurred. 

“Of course.” Thomas takes the bag and letting him pull it from your arm means briefly uncovering your ear. The couple are now whisper-yelling, sparing glances in your direction. Bucklist item achieved: screaming at someone to stop shouting and they actually stop shouting. The first step forward, a piece of the broken guitar shatters under your boot.

“I ruined it,” you manage to blurt, before giving into a gasping sob.

“It doesn’t matter, tesorina.” Little treasure. Thomas reaches out and you snatch your hand away without thinking. Betrayal. He hides it at an impressive speed, but it's there.

“I’m s –ss – sorry. Ruined it,” you sob. “I – everything, I ju –just –”

“It’s a piece of glass,” he whispers. “I love you and it's just a piece of glass. It’s a thing, y/n.” Slowly, you reach forward, and Tommy meticulously laces his fingers with yours, one at a time. When your hands are clasped his thumb brushes back and forth, soothing.  

You never look up from the stained pavement, not once, even during a busy intersection. You can’t tell if you’re crying because you can’t feel your face. No words are spoken, but Thomas’ anxiety radiates from every pore. You stumble behind him, led by the hand, stomach in your throat as you free fall into a storming chasm of childhood memories. On the fourth stair you trip and land on all fours, so Thomas leads you to the elevator instead.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Y/n?” You stare at the upholstered wall. Chocolate brown with tan line work weaving in and out of itself. You count every time the lines cross. At 36 something touches your back. You wrench away from it and whip around. Thomas is holding the elevator open with one hand because this is his floor. The other hand had tried to gently guide you.

The heavy front door slams shut. That sound hasn’t made you jump for months, but today it prompts a sharp inhale that has you choking on your own spit.

“Tesorina, are you okay? Are you okay?” The carpet had been freshly cleaned, but the cigarette mark burned into the cream-colored fibers remained. Vision blurring out of focus, you remind yourself that these feelings are from a past life. You no longer inhabit a space where they’re true. Movement in your peripheral makes you blink hard to clear the tears from your eyes. It’s Thomas, crawling across the floor. He kneels at your feet to meet your downturned eyes. He waits. 

He weeps. Tries not to, but ends up having to wipe his eyes roughly. Tommy is visibly sickened by the magnitude of his empathy. He feels what you feel, and knowing how unbearable that is, you reach a hand out to cup his face. He places his hand over yours, brings it to his lips. Tommy kisses every finger tip, every knuckle, then palm, wrist, forearm. At seven years old, you’d watched your mother get “Corinthians 1:13” tattooed in the same place after an AA meeting. She repeated that verse to you like building a shield. Looking into your boyfriend’s face now, you understand that it was never about religion.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;  it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

You collapse into his arms and he catches you. Instead of letting you hide against his neck, Tommy presses his forehead to yours.

“Nothing bad is going to happen if you look at me,” he whispers. The habit was totally subconscious and you met his gaze. 

“Hey, here,” he hands you a paper towel. Gracelessly, you blow your nose. The velcro on the sleeve of your jacket scratches so you take that off. Usually Tommy would help, but he’d taken his hands away as soon as you were stable and was sitting on them. For some reason that makes you cry again. At first it’s a couple tears and then you burst into ugly sobs, hands hiding your face.

“Y/n can you nod yes or no?” You nod and Thomas lets out a long sigh. “Do you understand that I’m not mad at all?” Nod. Deep breath. Shaky exhale. Sob.

“Repeat,” you croak.

“Okay. I’m not mad at you about anything, past, present, or future. There is no anger in my body.”

“Annoyed?” You take a shuddering breath to calm down, able to stop the tears.

“I am not annoyed at all either. No negative emotions directed at you.” You nod and peak through your fingers. Tommy's eyes are so damn earnest. 

“No negative emotions directed at you,” he repeats. “I’m not gonna slam the door.” You nod, fighting the wave of suffocating anxiety from the mere suggestion. “I’m not going to break something or yell.” Back to sobbing, and now you’re choking on your own hair. “Shit, I’m sorry.” It was too close to home, but hearing the words would make breathing easier if not for the tears.

“Hug me,” you manage. Thomas slowly wraps you in a loose embrace. He’s leaning way forward, so your torsos aren’t touching. You climb onto his lap and squeeze, demonstrating what kind of hug you want. He sighs in relief and properly holds you. 

“Can I rub your back?” Nod. His right hand runs up and down, applying  light pressure. Seated sideways, you lean your head on his shoulder; hiccups, but no waterworks. Tommy’s Adam's Apple bobs when he swallows hard. He nicked himself shaving this morning. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. This is my fault.” Just from his voice, you can hear that Tommy is also trying not to cry. “I know your history, but I just stood there and like, watched the worst trigger imaginable.”

“It's not your fault.”

“I should have gotten you away from there as quickly as possible, not stood to watch like a…” the self-disgust in his voice is palpable. “Piece of shit.”

“Thomas!”

“I’m not saying it was my fault, but I could have prevented it.” He lets out an uneasy, heavy sigh. This was way too much to navigate right now. Disagreeing would cause conflict and conflict would cause –

“Woah, breathe, baby, breathe.” Tommy rocks back and forth. “You’ve done nothing wrong and I’m just really sorry.” You scoff.

“I had a full fledged meltdown in front of everyone. Then I broke the sculpture.”

“I swear to god, if you mention that sculpture one more time.” Even with his voice void of malice, the blood in your veins turns to ice water. “I don’t care about the sculpture, I care about – Wait, no, no, no, that's not how I meant to phrase that at all. I care about you, not the glass thing, that doesn’t matter. God damn it Tom,” he groans, head tilted back. “Please breathe, amour,” he pleads as you shiver. 

“You lied. You are mad.” You get up. With tightly balled into fists, you walk to the sink. Rinsing your face doesn’t help and how he’s seen your hands shaking. You grip the counter and scrunch your eyes closed. How much anger had he buried and when was the reckoning? Would there be any warning? You couldn’t live your life bracing for it.

“Thomas, just get it over with.” You set your jaw, determined to stop the tears for good.

“Get over what?” he asks, standing up.

“Just fight with me now.”

“I just don't want to fight with you.”

“Just yell at me now and get it over with!” What was meant to be stern comes out as a scream, the same kind of scream the woman three blocks up used. Somehow the sound was still bottled up inside you, all these years later.

“Mia vita, I am not going to yell at you. I have never yelled at you.” You roll your eyes at his idealism, that hardened exterior that kept you alive going up.

“In every relationship people yell at eachother. Eventually you were going to yell at me. So just do it now.”

“Over a piece of glass? C’mon, we know this isn’t really about that. ”

“I’m. Not. Crazy.”

“Of course not.” He’s wide eyed and vulnerable, no defensiveness. “I didn’t mean to imply that, but maybe I did and I’m really, really sorry.” Taken aback, you wait for the rest of it.

“I know what anger sounds like, Thomas.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have watched my words and compartmentalized.” His tone of voice remains soft, regardless of your escalation. Again, you wait.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t do this,” you snap. It feels like your heart is being squeezed in your father’s fist. Thomas is taken aback.

“Amour, I don’t understand,” he chokes, suddenly desperate.

“You wouldn’t make me wait and wonder when it's gonna happen, live in fear of when you’re going to snap!” The words fall to the floor with the same weight as stereo speakers out of a second story window. They just lay there on the kitchen tile, ugly and mangled. You’d like to clean them up before the grout is stained red, but don’t have the right supplies. Now you’ll have to get a carpet to hide the stains, or fabricate a perfectly anecdotal lie for house guests, or remodel the kitchen. 

Thomas pulls a bar stool out from under the island, carrying it so the legs don’t scuff against the floor. He sits down gingerly.

“Will you come here, please?” Deciding that Thomas isn’t the type to set traps, you walk over. Standing between his parted legs, you’re the same height.

“Look at me,” he murmurs. You meet his eyes and find no aggression, just his gentle demeanor. Tommy extends a hand, asking you to take it. He puts your palm against his heart and that iron clad exterior falls away. 

“I am upset with the situation, not you. I am upset at those people who made their relationship the whole neighborhood’s problem. I’m upset at myself for handling it poorly. I’m upset that none of the adults in your childhood acted like adults and now you have to suffer. I am not upset with you. I do not care about a piece of glass. I do not care if the whole neighborhood thinks I’m dating a crazy person. You are my crazy person and I love you.” What a relief it is to believe him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry –”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t get to apologize about this.”

“But in the elevator I –”

“Nope.”

“The artichoke.”

“Errr,” Tommy makes a sound like a game show buzzer.

“I had a full mental breakdown in public.”

“And?”

“I’m sorr–” He interrupts by loudly shushing you. “The snot!”

“Approval pending.”

“Okay, but for real, I’m sorry for screaming at you. I don’t know where that came from. Well, actually I do. I just didn’t know that it was so close to the surface.”

“Apology accepted,” he hums, wrapping an arm around your waist. You startle and Thomas begins to pull away, but you stop him. 

“I’m going to be jumpy for a while, but that doesn’t mean don’t touch me.”

“I hate that you’re scared of me,” he whispers.

“I’m not scared of you. It's a memory.” As soon as your hands touch his face, Tommy’s eyelids close with heaviness. He’s not expecting the kiss. The skin of your lips sticks together, tacky from tears and saliva.

“You are my lighthouse.”

Notes: Well wasn't that some nice light reading! I am an attention whore so feel free to give me feedback.

-XOXO Eden

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[robinsvoid]

i love ur work i’ll take anythingg even scraps🙏🏼

༺ ˖࣪ she stole my candy

pairing. robin buckley x reader

content warnings. fluff? lil makeout sesh. robin’s a lil bold in this one. also not proofread :)

here is a scrap !!!! you know that kiss scene from horimiya where they’re eating candy and all that stuff? ok, but imagine it with robin… i’m literally squealing inside just thinkin about it.

it had been two hours since school ended, the sun already setting for the day, and you were sat on the floor of steve harrington’s living room in front of the flimsy halloween bucket he just had poured out on the coffee table, various types of candy clattering against the wood. robin was seated right next to you, inspecting the variety of confections scattered just before her in awe. steve still didn’t know about your relationship with robin. it had really only started recently, after robin had confessed the moment she found out you liked girls and honestly, she just hadn’t found the perfect time to tell her best friend about it yet. instead, she’s here making fun of him.

while complaining that he was too old for halloween festivities, steve nevertheless came along with dustin to gather as much candy as they could just for, well, fun. and of course, robin wouldn’t leave him alone about it.

“can’t believe you went trick or treating,” robin laughed, using her fingers to pick out the candy she liked. “what are you? like thirty?”

steve rolls his eyes and snatches a twix bar from the messy pile, “you’re absolutely hilarious, robin.”

“i think it’s sweet that you went trick or treating with dustin,” you smile, patting robin’s thigh with you hand as she turns her head, squinting at you, visibly showing you that it made her a little jealous.

“see, rob? chicks love a man who likes kids! i’m like… the most kid-loving man ever.” steve exclaims with his mouth full of chocolate, throwing the wrapper back into the bucket.

“probably wise to use a different set of words there, harrington.”

you find yourself lost in rummaging quietly through the pile of candy on the table, trying to find something out of the ordinary, something new, as you subconsciously tuned out steve and robin’s bickering, failing to notice steve had walked away to his room to go grab something real quick. after a couple seconds of searching, you found a small piece of candy with letters you couldn’t quite make out but you decided to pop it into your mouth anyway.

it was something you regretted instantly, as the piece sits in your mouth, tasteless and bitter. and robin’s watching you carefully, scooting closer towards you until her leg and the side of her body touched yours. she could see the discomfort in your face as she watched your mouth, causing her lips to curve into bright smile almost immediately. how could someone be so adorable? so… delectable? she would never know the reason behind it, only that that someone was always you.

“what flavor is that one?” robin asks, still mindlessly staring at your lips. it’s distracting; how soft they looked, how kissable they looked, how you would stick your tongue out only slightly to keep them from getting dry.

“i don’t even know. it’s just bitter?” you tell her honestly, still trying to decipher what was written on the wrapper. “it’s not good, though. i kinda hate it.”

“oh.”

and there was a moment of silence that followed right after. you don’t pay too much attention to it as you continue to inspect the torn plastic. you wonder what robin is thinking at the moment, knowing very well that she’d usually have more to say about things during every occasion but you were suddenly pulled out of your daze when you feel something warm and soft pressing against your mouth and all you could see was light brown hair.

robin sighs into your lips, darting her tongue out lightly to run it along your bottom lip and instinctively, your mouth opens as she tilts her head more to the side. you can feel her tongue inside of your mouth, roaming all over in search for something while pushing it against your own tongue and you can’t help but moan against her, knees feeling weak and your stomach fluttering as robin continues to kiss you.

she gives your tongue one last suck the moment she hears heavy footsteps coming from the stairs before pulling away completely. and you just sat there, mouth empty, breathlessly staring at her as if you were hypnotized.

“i think you taste better,” robin whispers lowly against your lips. there’s a tantalizing smile on her face as she stares back at you, before scooting away, clearly chewing on something.

fuck. you watch robin stand, muttering something along the lines of going to get water, and then, brushing shoulders with steve who had just returned from his bedroom to grab some vinyl record of a tears for fears album to slot onto his record player by his television. you sat there in awe as you stared down at the wrapper in your hand, mind thinking endlessly of robin’s tongue in your mouth. oh, you’d do anything for her to do that to you again and again and again.

“uh, you okay there, (y/n)?” the sound of steve’s voice pulls you back into reality although the memory of what happened a minute ago was still freshly running and replaying in your mind.

“what?” you say, blinking up at him as you play with the wrapper in between your fingers. “i- i’m good, steve.”

steve shrugs and plops down onto the couch, “okay, just makin’ sure. also, your lipstick’s a bit smudged.”

“yeah, um. she stole my candy.”

you clear your throat and turn your head away from him, fighting the smile that played on your lips as you bring your hand up to fix your make up.

and you know very well that it won’t be long until he puts two and two together.

✦ navigation. © ROBINSVOID

#rv; robin <3 #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #robin buckley x female reader #blurb #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x f!reader #st x reader #oneshot #robin stranger things #steve harrington #maya hawke #fluff #fanfic

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

Since so many of you voted for this, let's take a quick look at it.

KIM KITSURAGI "See you in the morning. Bye."

BED - The bed is cold and not particularly inviting, but it's yours. The sheets look awful...

TUTORIAL AGENT - The option to go to sleep becomes available every night after 21:00.

Crawl in.

No time to rest yet. [Leave.]

As you can see, we can go to bed at any time after 9 pm. Normally, however, there's no reason to do this - we can continue to explore until 2 am. While many of the NPCs go to bed at 9, a few will be available for the whole day.

One thing that *does* happen here is entering our room causes Kim to leave, going to his own room, but we're still free to leave and walk around. This is useful if there's ever anything we want to do without Kim - say, getting those boots off the corpse.

Now, let's rewind. We'll want Kim with us for this.

Garte gave us the key for the trash container, so now we can see what that *premonition* we had was all about.

TRASH CONTAINER - This trash container is locked. The sliding lid has a padlock that says "Whirling-in-Rags."

Open the padlock with the key.

[Physical Instrument - Legendary 14] Force time -- jam the tool under the lid and pull!

[Leave.]

One thing worth pointing out here is that we could attempt the check without actually equipping the tool. That gives us a -10 penalty, though.

TRASH CONTAINER - With a well-oiled crack the lock pops open. It should now be possible to simply raise the lid...

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Don't! Maybe you shouldn't...

INTERFACING [Easy: Success] - 'Maybe you shouldn't...' Of course you should! This is your time to shine, Hobocop! Dive into that dumpster for extra content!

Didn't I just have a premonition that there's *something in there*?

Open the lid.

"Another time maybe." [Leave.]

INLAND EMPIRE - There is. But you won't *like* it. Sweat forms on your brow, your hand is still on the lid...

2. Open the lid.

TRASH CONTAINER - The smell of rotten food rises to greet you. You see soggy cartons, dirty rags, and organic waste.

Task complete: Open trash container

+10 XP

KIM KITSURAGI - "We're just in time." The lieutenant peers in. "This hasn't been emptied for over a week."

This whole sequence is underscored by trash rummaging sounds.

Look under the boxes of carton.

Pick at the rags.

Search the food waste.

Dig in Hobocop-style -- for extra content.

Close the lid.

TRASH CONTAINER - You see: milk, an egg-rest with one broken egg in it, some pasta wrapper... Picking up the soggy packages somehow feels familiar.

A box falls into pieces in your hands: Batiste *Soleil* cereal. There are plastic pasta packages below, and *Turbo* noodles. Nothing of note, however.

2. Pick at the rags.

TRASH CONTAINER - Among the threadbare kitchen towels, something catches your eye -- a pair of denim trousers?

Grab them.

TRASH CONTAINER - As the legs of the slime-covered jeans begin to unspool from the garbage, a rank corpse smell fills the air.

KIM KITSURAGI - "The victim's clothes?" The lieutenant smells them. "Cadaverine odour is faint. If these belonged to the deceased, they were removed when he was still in the early stages of decay."

"Drop them in here, officer." The lieutenant produces a black plastic bag marked *evidence* from his pocket.

Bag the trousers.

KIM KITSURAGI - "*Guitar* mark blue jeans. Pockets empty." The lieutenant quickly searches the jeans. "Or *emptied*? He wore them with a belt, too, a wide belt -- the loops appear stretched, but..." He looks into the container.

"The belt is missing. That's it. Do you see anything else in there? I have another bag here…"

TRASH CONTAINER - Something slimy catches your eye...

Reach for it.

"Nope."

TRASH CONTAINER - A drab long-sleeved shirt, olive-coloured, appears from the food waste, dripping with pus.

Bag the shirt.

KIM KITSURAGI - "This is a military type over-garment. No label or serial number -- this is the kind of rib-knit shirt that's worn over light armour to conceal it in an urban scenario..." He nods to himself. "Anything more?"

+5 XP

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Success] - The rest of the rags are just kitchen-variety waste. Just garbage.

"That's all, I think."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Alright. We should go to Garte again and ask if he knows who put the clothes in the trash. It could be as simple as someone from the hostel cleaning the yard, or *that* one..." He nods toward the red-haired boy behind him. "I'd advise *against* confronting that force."

New task: Who put the clothes in the trash?

"Yeah, we need to ask the kids who put them here."

"You think someone from the Whirling might have been... involved maybe?"

"Okay." (Proceed.)

CUNOESSE - "The fuck's he on about -- *kids*?!" The one behind the fence yells. "You hear that, Cuno? He thinks you're an infant or something."

KIM KITSURAGI - "See?"

2. "You think someone from the Whirling might have been… involved maybe?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Not really. All we know is -- the victim's clothes are in the trash, the lid was locked, and this establishment had the key. It's just a *small* loose thread."

3. "Okay." (Proceed.)

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant nods, then looks back into the trash container.

3. Search the food waste.

TRASH CONTAINER - It's just organic waste, cold and slimy on your hands. Apple and potato peels mostly, unidentified sludge, and the occasional chicken bone thrown in for good measure. But hey...

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - Nothing. It's nothing. Nothing more to see here.

TRASH CONTAINER - ...what's *this*?

What?

Elbows out, there's nothing more here.

TRASH CONTAINER - A blue piece of plastic sticks out from the apple peels. It's *shiny*. Looks like the corner of something...

Pick it out.

TRASH CONTAINER - Something larger -- a clipboard! A blue plastic clipboard with moist papers hanging from it. They look badly damaged, but you can still make out forms and notes. Written in a *man's* handwriting...

Item gained: Damaged Ledger

KIM KITSURAGI - "Officer, is that your... paperwork?"

"No, it can't be."

"I don't know *what* this is."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes it is, look." He points to it. "This plastic has the RCM street grid on it. You've even got an autopsy form..." A miserable looking slip of paper sticks to the board.

Secret task complete: Find your paperwork

+10 XP

"If you don't mind my asking, how could you have let your paperwork end up in the trash?"

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #cunoesse

[leggerefiore]

I have this funny idea where Ingo prepares candies for the kids visiting the station on Halloween, but Emmet keeps stealing the candies to the point his pokemons keeping dragging him away when he gets close it.

cute idea! small piece in honour of it and the holiday.

Ingo gave his best attempt at a smile towards the children who approached him. Their costumes were usually quite adorable, mostly based around shows that were popular with children, pokemon, or popular monsters. A small girl dressed as a Litwick gave him big eyes as she held her Pumpkaboo themed bucket. Some candy slid around inside already. Ingo reached his hand towards his bowl of sweets he had eagerly bought in anticipation for the holiday.

The Subway Boss loved to see children doing thing excitedly. He was yet to be a father but making kids smile, be it through battling or through celebrating holidays always left him temporarily contented. His fingers touched the bottom of the deep plastic container.

None left?

The older twin felt certain that he had not given out that much yet. Turning his head, he gazed into it.

Empty.

Luckily, he had bought plenty extra, planning on gifting the leftovers to his whining brother. Standing up, he politely excused himself from the girl for a moment with the promise of getting her candy as quick as he could. A depot agent immediately took to helping him by explaining to the parents that he had just run out of candy and was grabbing more. His strides quickly brought him to his office, where the light was still on. Emmet must have taken to hiding inside. He usually enjoyed Halloween. Kids could challenge him for extra candy, so he got more battles in. Ingo made sure that he went easy on them, of course. Opening the door, he spotted his brother inside.

Emmet froze like a Deerling in headlights. Candy wrappers covered his desk and chocolate hung around his mouth. Quickly, he darted out his tongue to attempt to hide the evidence, but it was too late.

“… What did you do?” the older twin asked blankly, trying to pretend he was not five seconds away from going on an impassioned rant about being a decent human being to his bastard of a twin.

“… I missed lunch,” Emmet stated, “I had some… Candy.”

Ingo spied his extra bags. They were unopened. Had Emmet taken candy from his bowl unbeknownst to him? He grabbed a bag, but gave a terrifying grin to his younger brother on his way out.

“Take any more of my candy,” he threatened, “and I will not let you have another sweet until this time next year.”

Emmet nodded with a terror-stricken expression on his face.

~

The younger twin's next attempt was thwarted by an angry Chandelure and Crustle after he tried again, not fully having learnt his lesson. Ingo chose to ignore the shouts of his brother as Chandelure carried him away in her ghostly aura.

#ingo.ima #emmet.ima

[billy-theratking]

I'd Know You Anywhere, My Love - Part 1

Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington

AN: Just a little excerpt on Billy and Steve after the Star Court Mall battle. Get ready for Upside Down infected, monster Billy!

Warnings: Panic attacks

Part 2

Steve lazily cracked an eye open, groggily squinting at the familiar layout of his bedroom. Nothing looked out of place, which only left him even more puzzled. He focused on his body and found that his heartbeat was perfectly steady and his breathing was even. So, if he wasn’t awake because of another nightmare…

Then what woke him up?

His question was answered in the form of a muffled clatter that came from the apartment beyond his door, the sound prompting him to quietly climb out from beneath his warm blankets and retrieve his trusty spiked bat from where he’d stashed it under the bed.

Robin had gone out for yet another date with a cute girl named Hannah that she’d met at a poetry reading and had told him not to expect her to return to their apartment until well into the morning.

Steve considered the preferable scenario where Robin had changed her mind and came back early, but she would’ve called to warn him of her imminent return just in case he was… busy.

Surely he would’ve heard their landline ring, he was an incredibly light sleeper since he’d found out about the Upside Down and all the things that came with the territory. Which could only mean that Robin didn’t call, and that indicated that the second -and much more distressing- option was the most likely one. 

He had an uninvited visitor, which was unexpected because their apartment wasn’t in a particularly bad neighborhood.

Sure, it wasn’t like there had never been a break-in that was in the area, it’s just that… Steve had never thought it would happen to them.

He and Robin didn’t have a whole lot of stuff that was worth stealing, other than their hard-earned TV of course. Though, even then it would be pretty difficult to take considering the fact that the thing was heavy. Like ridiculously so, to the point where he and Robin had struggled to get the appliance up the flight of stairs and into their living room.

His train of thought was derailed by the almost inaudible sound of his fridge door opening. The noise reminded him why he was standing stiffly in the cold corridor. He took a step forward, moving out of the hall and into the living room, his foot slipping slightly as it came in contact with the wet hardwood floor.

Looking down, the meager light of the street lamps shining through the windows allowed him to see some sort of slime smeared across the ground, the puddles parallel and evenly spaced like footprints.

His gaze tracked the path back to his right, the prints beginning in front of the wall next to his TV. The off-white wall was just as pristine as it had been when they had moved into the apartment, with no sign of tampering.

It was as if the prints had just appeared out of nowhere.

Memories of gateways to other dimensions and the creatures that followed flashed through his mind before he viciously stomped down the reminder. He hoped -prayed- that this had nothing to do with the Upside Down.

Steve carefully stepped over the ooze slathered across the floor, creeping up to the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. The golden light from the small bulb spilled out onto a small portion of the tiled floor of the dining room and kitchen, softly illuminating the surrounding area in an eerie glow.

He peeked around the corner in order to peer into the kitchen and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion upon seeing the absolute mess of the place.

His various plastic magnets were scattered across the floor, some cracked and in pieces as if they’d been stepped on. Wrappers and shredded Tupperware was strewn about with half-eaten and abandoned scraps of food left haphazardly everywhere.

He was so furious at the sight of the absolute disaster he almost missed the figure rummaging about his fridge. Examining the little bit of the silhouette he could see, he stared wide-eyed at the gap between the bare fridge door and the floor, where he could see a pair of slimy feet.

Although, it took him a second to register that what he was staring at weren't feet at all but talons, ones that looked freakishly akin to something one might see on a bird as opposed to something distinctly human-sized.

Steve must've made some kind of noise, because the nightmare-inducing crunching abruptly cut off, the shadowed figure straightening from its hunched form in order to stare at him from over the fridge door.

Some sort of swinging metal caught in the yellow light of the fridge, giving Steve a good eyeful of an eerily familiar earring. Unfortunately, Harrington had only seen that particular earring on one person.

A familiar pair of bright blue irises swam in dark pools of black, lazily raking over Steve's frame. After an uncomfortable moment of mutual staring, the other male’s petal pink lips curled up into an unsettling grin that showed off inhuman needle-point teeth. Regrettably, Harrington would recognize that smug face anywhere and Jesus fuck-

It's Billy Hargrove.

A dead teen is standing in Steve's kitchen, a half-devoured rotisserie chicken held in the loose curl of his… fingers? At least, that's what they resembled. They were more like claws, Billy’s usual sun-kissed tan skin steadily fading into a smooth matte black from his elbows down to the tips of his fingers.

Unsure of what else to do, Steve wound up and viciously swung at the Billy look-alike, who swiftly ducked to avoid the deadly spikes that were periodically scattered throughout the wood.

“Hey! Hey! Easy, Pretty Boy. It’s me, Billy.” It drawled and Steve’s lips twisted into a scowl at the casual use of the degrading nickname, anger rearing its ugly head at this… impostor’s words. Harrington knew it wasn’t Hargrove because there was no way in hell Billy would come looking for Steve of all people. Max maybe -perhaps even El- but certainly not him.

“I don’t know what you are, but I know for a fact that you’re not Hargrove. He’s dead. I watched him die.” Steve swallowed heavily, ignoring how his voice cracked.

The look-alike’s face creased with exasperation, the creature clicking its tongue in clear disagreement.

“Well that’s kind of impossible considering that I’m right here.” It both looked and sounded completely done with the brunet���s perfectly valid argument, thank you.

“He’s dead.” Steve repeated, for lack of anything else to say.

“No, I’m not.” The impostor stressed, frustration bleeding into its tone.

The creature carelessly tossed the half-eaten carcass of the chicken onto the nearest counter before taking an aborted step forward, causing Steve to backpedal and plant his feet, readying his bat.

The brunet swung as the blond reached out to grab him, getting a solid hit right on the look-alike’s chest, a flash of metal drawing his gaze down to where nails met flesh. The thin gold chain around the impostor’s neck had gotten tangled around the bat, the delicate jewelry snapping when Steve yanked it away.

The familiar necklace dangled from the black-coated nails, glinting insidiously as it swayed with the brunet’s trembling hands.

It was Billy’s.

Steve suddenly recalled the day that he’d finally gathered enough courage to ask Max about the jewelry’s significance; she had told him that it used to belong to Hargrove’s estranged mother.

Steve tore his eyes away from the necklace, braving a glance at Billy and he instantly wished he hadn’t, a cold chill running down the brunet’s spine at the blond’s severe expression. It was the same look he’d had that night at the Byers house, the night that Billy had attempted to beat him to death.

Steve flinched when those crazed arctic eyes darted away from the necklace to hone in on him, prompting the brunet to drop the bat as if it had burned him. The crack of wood hitting wood was deafeningly loud, the sound ringing through the kitchen like a gunshot.

He immediately clapped his hands over his ears, hoping that it would at least muffle the noise. On the contrary, it just seemed to grow louder and louder until it was the only thing he could hear.

The distant crash of a plate shattering broke through the white noise, Steve’s hands dropping away from his head as he felt the pieces of porcelain rain down around him. The left side of his skull throbbed in time with his frantic heartbeat as he flashed through memories of Billy kneeling over him, pinning him to the ground as blow after blow landed.

Steve couldn’t breathe, choking on the thick metallic flavor that flooded his mouth. His aching eyes squinted open, his pained gaze meeting the manic grin on Billy’s face as the younger boy kept throwing punches.

Every inch of his body hurt and he could feel his skin split, bruise, swell up, Billy’s unhinged laughter echoing throughout the Byers living room, as if it were coming from all around him. Then there were hands on him, pressed against the back of his head.

He flinched away, but the hands were persistent and they weren't hurting him, so he gave in to the instinct to lean into the gentle touch. His breathing slowed some, the ringing lessening in volume until he could actually hear a voice.

“Hey. Hey. Stop that.”

The fingers moved lightly over the back of his head and he hissed as it ran across a painful bump. The prodding hand came back around and paused in front of his face, a bright crimson coating the tips of the pointer and middle finger that Steve distantly registered as his blood.

He focused his vision past the hand and to the figure crouched before him, who still talking. “Damn, Bambi. You hit your head pretty good.”

Billy looked different now, the claws, talons and weird eyes were gone. The blond looked perfectly human, exactly like the Billy from his memories.

And, as if sensing his eyes, Billy’s sky blue gaze lifted to meet his. “Are you okay?”

Steve just blinked uncomprehendingly at the blond as if he was seeing him for the first time. Then the glint of metal pulled Steve out of his daze, his attention caught and held in a vice grip when his eyes settled on the golden amulet that dangled from Billy’s free hand.

“Billy…” Steve breathed softly, tearing his eyes away so he could look at the figure kneeling before him. He reached out, cautiously touching the cool skin of Billy’s wrist, feeling the thump of the younger teen's heart when pressing his fingers against his pulse.

“It’s you. It’s really you.”

He stared in puzzled astonishment as Billy shuffled closer, the blond’s brows furrowing in confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, Bambi. That's what I was trying to tell you before you went all Babe Ruth on me.”

Suddenly remembering the sound of metal tearing flesh, Steve released his grip on the other male like it had burned him, and dropped his wide eyes to Billy’s unmarred chest.

“But… but I hit you. I know I hit you. How are you okay?” Steve felt his breathing begin to pick up the longer he stared at the inky black that was smeared across Billy’s golden skin.

“Nope. No. We are not doing this again.” Billy hissed, hands frantic as they moved over Steve’s frozen form. “Come on. Come on, Bambi. It’s just me, it’s just me.”

He carefully framed Steve’s face with both of his cold hands, bringing their foreheads together. Each of Billy’s warm breaths fanned against his face, sweet like candy and somehow soothing. 

Steve was surprised when the panic released his lungs, his breathing slowing to match Billy’s calm puffs of air. The blond leaned back, but didn’t go too far, staying practically nose to nose with the other. This close, Steve could count each individual freckle sprinkled across Billy’s cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.

They’d messed around a few times but then everything went to shit at the Byers house and Billy started ignoring him, so Steve stayed away, giving Billy the space that the blond so obviously wanted.

And then Billy was flayed and people were dying and he was trying to avoid being killed by angry Russians and there was no time to think about what was happening as Billy stood over El, facing the creature that was towering over the two of them with squared shoulders, looking all to the world like the stubborn, brave teen that Steve remembered catching glimpses on during their brief fling.

Then Billy was screaming and Max was screaming and when Billy went horribly silent, leaving only Max’s heart-wrenching sobbing to fill the sudden oppressive quiet that had descended over the group, Steve stared down at Billy’s unmoving body with a mess of confusing emotions all battling for attention, watching numbly as black oozed from the wounds on the blond's sides, chest and hands. 

The rest of the night was a blur of colors and noise as they ran, avoiding the authorities and Russians alike, and then he was suddenly standing in the shower fully clothed, his hair and stupid sailors uniform plastered to his goose-pebbled skin as he shivered under the spray of water that had long gone cold.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed there, and carefully pushed Billy out of his personal space. “What uh- what happened?”

When Steve had a panic attack, the details of what exactly triggered him and what had transpired during were kind of a blur. So he was left wondering why the back of his head was throbbing angrily and why he could taste blood.

Billy stared quietly for a moment, slowly giving him a once over, before answering. “You hit me with the bat and my necklace broke. And when you looked at me, you froze up. Next thing I knew, you were unresponsive.”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line, ashamed of himself. Billy was the last person that he wanted to see him like that, weak and pathetic.

“Then you kind of collapsed and backed up when I tried to approach you. You began to slam your head against the cabinets behind you and I’m guessing that when you hit your head, you must’ve bit your tongue.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, that was odd behavior. Robin had never said anything about self-harm during any other episodes, so this was a first.

“And no matter what I said, you wouldn’t listen. You just kept repeating ‘no’ under your breath while hyperventilating and staring off blankly into the middle distance.” Billy sounded kind of odd as he spoke, almost as if he were actually rattled by the incident. “It was like you couldn’t see me. It was terrifying.”

Steve almost broke his neck with how fast he jerked his head up to look at Billy -Billy Hargrove- who had just admitted that he was scared and worried about Steve.

The whole situation was insane and had Steve feeling like the rug had been pulled out from underneath him, leaving him trying and failing to regain his balance.

“It was a panic attack.” He heard himself explaining without his say-so. “I have them sometimes when I’m reminded of shitty situations I've been in.”

He didn’t know why, but Steve felt the irrational urge to comfort Billy, who was still staring at him like he might shatter if the blond moved away. Billy slowly rose before holding out his free hand, palm up, in an offering. Steve took Billy’s extended hand, gratefully letting the other male to help him up to his feet.

“How about we set you up with some pain meds? Have any Advil or Tylenol?” Billy scratched at his chin in thought and Steve stifled the need to smile at the adorable expression on the blond’s face.

This was nothing like the Billy that he was used to, but he couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down just because the blond expressed a bit of kindness. Billy had shown himself capable of being nice if it benefitted him somehow. Steve had to remember that the blond was still a ticking time bomb and any misstep could set him off.

“We have some in the bathroom, but I can’t have any kind of pain reliever because of the meds I’m on.”

Billy halted all movement and side-glanced at the brunet, piercing eyes drilling into Steve’s head as if he were trying to pull the unsaid information from the brunet's brain.

“How about some alcohol then?” Billy moved back toward the fridge and Steve stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, the blond going stock still for a second time underneath his hand. Frustration overtook Billy’s face, making it do some unattractive things as the blond attempted to get a lid on his emotions. “Let me guess, can’t have that either?”

"Yeah, pretty much." Steve nodded, releasing his hold on Billy so that the younger male could pace freely.

“What do you do if you get hurt or have a headache?” The blond sounded furious, as if Steve’s lack of options personally offended him somehow.

Steve just shrugged, not really sure what to say and not wanting to push the blond further into a rage. He left Billy in the kitchen -the blond muttering to himself- in order to grab a large black garbage bag to start cleaning the kitchen.

Steve desperately wished that he could take his medication. He felt overwhelmed, anxious and guilty; viciously cursing the fact that he couldn’t fuck up his schedule by taking any before eight am.

Billy joined him a few minutes later, wordlessly grabbing one for himself. Steve abandoned the blond to pick up the various food-stuffs scattered around, Steve went to investigate his magnet problem.

He picked up the blue rose that Robin adored and tried to put it back on the fridge door, but the minute that he let go, it fell. He glared down at the magnet before squatting to pick it up and try again, only to get the same result.

He attempted the same with every single one of his magnets with the exact same thing happening every time he let go. They had demagnetized, all of their stupid magnets did, and the last time something like this had happened, a rogue piece of the Mind Flayer had awoken and possessed Billy.

He glanced over at the blond, who was considering a half-eaten slice of pizza very intently, before shrugging and tossing it into the trash bag he was dragging around behind him. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Billy’s sudden appearance had something to do with the magnet's odd state.

It took the two of them around an hour to finish cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, Steve allowing himself to be distracted by the monotonous task. He didn’t want to look into Billy’s mysterious resurrection, much less how the blond had even found him or got into the apartment with all the windows and doors locked.

Billy moved into the living room and Steve followed. The blond made a move as if to flop down onto the couch and Steve’s hand snapped out in order to grab his wrist and tug him away from the furniture with a disapproving frown. The kids liked to call it his ‘Disappointed Mom’ face.

Billy gave him a questioning look and Steve explained himself. “You are covered in unidentified shit and, therefore, not allowed on any of the furniture until you shower.”

Billy gave Steve his trademark flirtatious grin at the command, saddling up next to him and shamelessly pressing into Steve’s personal space.

“If you wanted me to get naked, you could’ve just asked.”

That attitude was more like the Billy he remembered, the familiar behavior putting Steve at ease for some reason.

“Dude, get off me. We’ve just established that you’re covered in yuck.” Steve complained, shoving at the suddenly clingy male. “Go get in the shower. Towels are in the cupboard to the right of the bathroom, you animal.”

Steve gave him one last push to send the blond on his way, waiting until the younger man was out of view before going back into the kitchen for something to eat. It was now nearing five in the morning and his stomach was complaining about the lack of food.

He was about to open the cabinet when he noticed the black spots on the door and counter. Moving toward the light, Steve flicked the switch, illuminating the room and revealing the horror that was once hidden by the dark of the room. There was a thick, ink-like substance all over the kitchen floor and Steve’s own blood coating parts of the hardwood and lower cabinets.

He probably stood frozen in shock for several minutes, just taking in the utter mess of the room, wondering what the black liquid was and where it came from.

Then he recalled how black welled up in the wounds when the bat hit Billy, coating the nails in dark ink. Ripping the bat out must have flung the blood into all sorts of directions, which explained the drops of obsidian shining innocently at him from various surfaces.

Steve considered all the clues that alluded to the fact that Billy was not exactly human.

The odd slime on the floor and coating his skin, the horrifying limbs and eyes, the odd coloring of his skin, the fact that he was cold to the touch like a corpse and bled black blood.

Something was going on here and it had something to do with that dreaded dimension. He needed help and he knew exactly who to call. Grabbing the landline, he listened closely to make sure that the shower was still running loudly before dialing.

“Robin, you need to get home, like right now. Billy Hargrove is in our apartment… and I think he came from the Upside Down.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve x billy #what if? #mutated Billy #abomination!Billy #canon divergence #angst and hurt/comfort #i might continue this #idk

[xhylm]

yall.. im so sad i can't do day 5...

HAHA SIKE, IM DOING DAY 5 OUT OF SHEER BOREDOM

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an average picnic/mackerel battle

855 words || time taken-; 1h 6m

chars-; 🇩🇰-🇳🇴-🇮🇸-🇫🇮-🇸🇪-🇪🇪

amidst all the volcanoes and glaciers in iceland, resides a park, filled with soft luscious green grass with some wild flowers sprinkled here and there. a park bench and some trees making appearances. and in said park, are where the nordic countries are having a picnic.

finland scopes out a good place to set down the picnic blanket norway's been clutching onto. he finds a good spot with just right of a shade to sunlight ratio and asks of the stoic man to set the blanket down. after doing so, sweden sets down some cushions for comfort while norway sets down the basket filled with mouth watering finger foods alongside a jar filled with candy and some akvavit set aside for the resident squishy man. denmark had been talking to iceland, practically to himself with how little words the younger was saying, up until be decided to unpack the picnic basket and hand out some things to the other nordic states; sweets and a whole bottle of booze for fin, some packed meatballs for sweden, some licorice for himself, and some mackerel for..

oh.

everyone seems to be thinking the same thing. "there's only one box of mackerel? how odd. nor, didn't i tell you to pack at least three boxes?" finland speaks everyone's mind. "i did. but, i think i had.. eaten.. two boxes before coming here," he says, already eyeing the box in the obnoxious man's hands. norway continues, "i didn't have enough time to make more." subconsciously, he reached his hand out to grab the box.

iceland, however, took this as an attack. he swatted the older's hand away and grabbed the box. "c'mon, nor. be nice to your younger brother, won't you?" he smiles, oh if a look could kill. not wanting to join the squabble happening, finland and sweden dig into their assigned munchies. while the brothers were fighting, denmark was simply observing, subconsciously munching on his licorice.

norway, however, decides not to be the doting, older brother he usually is and grips the box with vigor. "and who do you think prepared this. hm? my dearest younger brother." chaos ensues. iceland promptly gets up makes a mad dash to the nearest restroom so he could lock the door and eat it in there. norway follows suit, chasing after iceland. "oh so now you wanna be greedy!? screw off punk!" he says right before tripping and getting the box snatched off the ground and beelining right to the door of the rest room. iceland gets up and tackles his older brother and begins to roll around in the grass whilst each try to grab the simple box of prepared fish they have been fighting over for ten minutes.

meanwhile, back at the calm that was the picnic blanket, "should i go split them up?" denmark asks, still munching away on licorice while reaching for another small jar in the basket. "no, let them be. they're just being brothers! it's nice to see them get along. right sweden?" finland says, sighing after taking a swig of alcohol and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. sweden just responds with "mn." and keeps the container that held his meatballs into the basket and lays his head down on one of the cushions he brought over.

the pair return from the little escapade, panting, with mr puffin roosting on iceland's head, holding onto the box with his wings and beak for support. norway's hair looked like he just rolled out of bed with his iconic hairpin and troll cellphone sliding off his unclipped bangs. iceland's earmuffs being pushed up and off his head with one ear being uncovered. "and it doesn't seem like you need to, the puffin did it for you." finland states, scrunching up his candy wrappers and putting them into a plastic bag they brought.

denmark tries to feed mr puffin a stem of licorice before getting sqwaked at. luckily finland catches the box just in time and prevented any spillage from happening on the perfectly soft blanket. "here you go ice!" the mom of the group hands the white haired boy the box and tells him to eat it, smiling and staring daggers at norway. iceland stares at finland in admire and respect before opening the box and finding out that there was no cutlery. ah. an oversight. denmark points out in the middle of everyone's silence that there were toothpicks that sweden used for his meatballs in the basket. iceland almost praises and thanks him vigorously before realizing that all of the ten toothpicks were used by sweden; one for the meatballs, one he dropped into the dirt, and rest he somehow constructed into a horse out of sheer boredom.

iceland sighs and puts the box down next to him as he sits on the picnic blanket, he even contemplates on just using his hands or better(worse) yet, just using his mouth when out of the blue, estonia drops down via a rope from the tree they've been sitting under. "hey guys! i got a fork, iceland, you need it?" everyone just stares at him in quiet bewilderment.

#iceland week 2023 #xhy #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph norway #hws norway #aph finland #hws finland #aph sweden #hws sweden #aph denmark #hws denmark #aph nordics #hws nordics #hetalia #drabble #aph estonia #hws estonia #lol he wishes he was in rhe nordic states

[day0walkersdrafts]

He likes it here. In her room.

Probably because at least it has personality. Maybe messy personality—Nomi isn’t exactly clean. She has a pile of her clothes in the corner, wrappers from her snacks all over her desk, little pieces of electronics so haphazardly everywhere it was almost dangerous. He’d howled in pain stepping on something plastic and sharp once before in her room and she’d only told him that was what he got for taking his boots off and getting comfortable when she didn’t tell him too.

Her bed was always oddly neat, though. The sheets tucked tight and clean to the corners. That was almost always a constant every time he visited.

“You ‘ave got to start taking better care of this, Ben,” she mutters in her huffy annoyed voice. Her slim dark eyebrows pinch together, tongue between her teeth in concentration as she pokes around inside his forearm. She’s slid on gloves, a little tool in her hand to get into the real nooks and crannies of the scorpion modification.

Benny had gotten it shortly after enlisting—all those fresh new soldier credits. A forearm that literally came apart to reveal a long, hooked blade that he could use to cut throats. Yeah, he’d had his heart set on that from the moment he knew it was a thing, but he’d enlisted fourteen years ago. The tech had been updated since, but there was nothing you could really do about something ten plus years old. Just keep modding onto it, or get a girl like Nomi who loved tinkering to keep up with it.

“It was j-just a little spill,” he says, grinning at her. She lifts those big pink eyes and he sinks a little further in the chair by her desk. He’d once thought of her as shy. Neurotic and strange and introverted and weird—well, she was definitely all of those, but she was not shy. Sometimes, Nomi could be so bluntly straight forward it made his head spin, but he liked that about her. He liked that sometimes she took hold of his hair and shook him around until his eyes were spinning. Metaphorically anyway.

He’d not mind if she did it for real too, though.

“Don’t get beer in your fuckin’ arm mod,” she’s chastising. Cleaning, he realizes, a little alcohol soaked wipe on the end of tweezers. He can feel the cold of it, seeping into the parts that are connected to his nervous system. It had been strange, getting that fitted in and suddenly having something that felt like a third limb. Went from just flexing his fingers to this new sensation of going, twist and suddenly his arm splitting and a knife coming out.

“Then I wo-wouldn’t have a reason to come see you, Nomi,” he teases, leaning forward a little. He tries to angle his face so she’ll look at him again, crowd into her space a little. Instead she slips the tweezers onto something sensitive, making him yelp and jump in the chair a little. “Not funny,” he mumbles, at the sweet smile on her face.

Benny turns his attention to her monitors then, because looking at her face sometimes makes him feel a tightening sensation across his whole body. And she always has the security cameras pulled up, even when she’s probably not meant to. The monitor closest to him has the brig; all the dividing cells with and those two new prisoners for them. Xavier is there, standing with his arms across his chest, boots slightly parted. Nomi keeps the monitors on some setting that makes everything look blue, but even without the red hair and the back to the camera, that stance is so fucking Corporal.

“They’re on half rations,” Nomi says, with a furtive glance to the monitor. She looks oddly concerned about that, her eyes flickering between figures on the screen. One of the prisoners seems far more interested in talking to the Corporal than the other, and thats not the one her eyes seem to keep catching on. Benny hums a little, slouching down further in the chair, little happier when her eyes return to his.

“H-Half rations,” he says, smiling that wicked, crooked grin. “You don’t say.”

—

It’s Wilson when he gets down there, which almost makes Benny turn right back around. But the big brute notices him before he can, his whole thick body rising off the chair. He’s got a smile that makes peoples bowels turn to water—real fucking ugly, real mean and nasty. Says, I’ll kill ya! with that smile. Instead, he’s dropping a heavy paw onto Benson’s shoulder and giving him a slight shake.

“Fucking finally—if I had to listen to them any longer, I’d have pulled the trigger.” Wilson laughs, claps Benson’s shoulder again, making him almost bow under the weight of his arm. It’s not a joke; makes Benny nervous that it is not a joke. He’d like to do that; would like to have the two bounty hunters line up against the wall and take practice shots that turn to real shots. Benny fucking hates Wilson; but he smiles, anxious and unprepared for the social interaction.

“Y-Yeah, well, I’ll relieve ya.”

“You wish, Benson,” Wilson sneers, elbowing him hard in the rib in what would be a friendly gesture from Lark or Xavier. But it’s hard and nasty. Just makes him yelp a little and side step away, rubbing the area furiously as it fits to bruise. Wilson tilts his head back, laughs with his hands shoved into his pockets. The door hisses open and close behind him while Benny still rubs that now-sore spot between his ribs. His face is pinched over it, cheeks a little red because it’s not as though the interaction was missed by the prisoners.

He can hear one of them, a snickering, guy’s a prick, yeah? And the other one’s mumbled response. But with the weight of Wilson’s presence gone, Benny recovers surprisingly quickly. He pats tac pants pockets fondly and turns on his heel to look at the two men.

Originally, it had just been down to whoever he thought was more attractive. Which, there was a bit of a clear winner there, considering one of them had a face that looked murderously annoyed and the other had a lot of freckles. Easy choice. But it was made that much easier, because Xavier had been looming on the other side of the room, near the mean looking one. So Benny smiled, real big, real crooked, real dimpled at the one not glaring a knife into his stomach.

He walks with wide, stiff legged steps that are more like a meandering lazy tumble, his hands nestled into his jacket pockets. A funny sort of, hi there! Haha, noticed you’ve been captured and are behind bars and soooooo can’t avoid me. Ben tries to look docile, look nonthreatening with his hands tucked away, head slightly bowed and smiling as he walks closer to the cells. His blond hair is falling a little in strings around his face from the way he usually keeps it pushed back, so he runs his hand up through it, nice and slow.

“Heard you’re skipping meals.”

The mean one in the back sits on his cot, looks bored and nasty. He has a scar over his eye, something long and fading, but ominous. Indicating violence. Yeah, that one’s all yours Corporal, Benny thinks as he swings his gaze right back to—

“Maran,” Nomi said as she slid his sleeve down for him. She’d run her hand back up, smoothing wrinkles out the fabric and making him feel concave inside his chest. “It’s Benji and Maran.” It was weird to hear her use their first names like that. So intimate, in a way. Like she knew them.

“Talking about us up ship? How sweet,” Maran replies, his posture easy in theory, deceptively rigid. He’d stood when Benny approached, that long body unfolding from his spot. Stands in a ready sort of way, just prepped for something and Benny gets that. Anxious. If it weren’t for the bars, maybe he would be more uneasy but instead Benny’s eyes flick over him, appreciatively. They start at his shoulders, wind down over his torso and hips and thighs.

He’s not built, thick and broad like his companion, but there’s a strength to him that makes Benny’s hands flex in his pockets. And he is handsome; a little on the pretty side, with high cheek bones and an angular face. Plush lips that Benny stares at a little more before his eyes skate away and to the wall.

“Gotta be the most interesting thing that’s ha-happened to us in the last five months,” Benny continues. “Gotta be a little hu-hungry too.” He pulls the protein bar from his pocket, giving it a little look over before raising it. He smiles, that big smile that dimples his left cheek.

“Fuckin’ prick,” the mean one—Benji—says from where he’s sitting on the cot. He’s adjusting himself to get more comfortable, unlike Maran who still stands. Benny tries to evaluate that; whose the leader? There’s always one in a group. Even duos. There’s always one who takes charge, who makes the first move, who plans, enacts, fixes. It could be him, because he’s laid back there so casually, confidently. He stares at Benny with dark eyes, thick brows draw down, but unintimidated.

Maran could be the one. Stands there, staring at the protein bar in Benny’s hand.

“Yeah, they’ve been—sort of switchin’ off? One eats more one day, then the next—what’s it all about?”

“Yeah, Nomi, tha-that’s survival shit.”

He’d not eaten the last meal; shoved it off on the curly haired one. They weren’t eating at too extreme of a deficit. Mbabazi wasn’t cruel. But they didn’t know the Captain. They didn’t know when that last meal would truly be their last.

“I would love to give y-you this protein bar,” Benny says, holding it out, until it almost touches the bars. Nothing beats physical—used to be nanowalls, until someone got a hand cut off trying to repair it. “Just,” he steps a little bit further, his boots heavy on the floor. “I think it’s go-gotta be like an even exchange? Like,” he taps the bar on is chin. Then he smiles wider and wider and wider, crooked with that dimple in the cheek. “Like, play a game w-with me. You’ve played twenty questions before, right?”

“Gotta be fuckin’ jokin’, mate.” Benji, again, in the corner. Looks like he might get up, but Maran shifts. Almost imperceptible, that little tilt of his body. It’s like innate body language between two people—Benson’s seen it with Lark and Xavier. He feels a knot inside his heart then, tightening, harder. What’s it like? To have someone put their weight on a foot differently and it make another person just instantly understand. Benji is snorting out a dry, annoyed laugh, thick arms folding across his chest.

Benny waves the protein bar again and Maran shrugs, raises open palms. Go on, they say.

“Favorite color?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Lame,” the soldier replies, turning on his heel. He pauses, staring at the door, head tilted a little before he gently tucks his chin to his shoulder and looks back at the bounty hunter. “Mines red.”

“Fits you,” Maran replies. It makes Benny slowly turn on his heel and toss the protein bar into the cell. Quick as anything, the man catches it from the air with that black cyber tech arm. Benny’s tongue makes a path over his teeth as he slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out another.

“Fla-flattery will get you places.” He kicks his leg back, hoots a booted foot around the chair Wilson had just been sitting in. With a fluid motion, he yanks it toward himself and drops down onto it. He sits with a wide knees, one arm tucked behind the back of the chair and the other still holding the protein bar. “The-they’re my favorite flavor, just so you know. They actually have a flavor. Raspberry. Ne-never had a real raspberry before. You?”

“Don’t get a lot of fruit on the run, yeah?” Maran is still standing and something about the exchange of heights, the subtle difference there makes Benny’s spine shiver. Maybe he likes being looked down at like that. Maybe he likes that Maran has to tuck down his chin; is tucking down his chin and looking at him. Indulging him. Benny tilts his head back and forth and shrugs.

“Never had credits for real fruit.” He taps the protein bar on his thigh. Benny volleys a few more asks, stupid things; favorite music? Been to the Edge? Do drugs? Drink? And most of them, Maran finds a way to not answer. Finds a slippery way around, but Benny doesn’t. He answers them, like they’re playing for real. I like old rap music. Never been that far out, would like to go. I like drugs, who doesn’t? I’m a soldier, of course I drink. He asks more, a couple, and then Maran does answer a few. Just a few. His posture relaxes, his shoulders not as line tight. He laughs at one of Benny’s questions, which makes him lean forward with his elbows to his knees.

Benny lifts the protein bar up. Maran’s hand, real one this time, slips through the bars and takes it from him.

“Remember your first kiss?” He leans back in the chair, one leg thrown out, the other still bent. Benny rests his hand on his stomach, the other arm slinging back around the chair. He watches Maran with lidded, pale blue eyes.

“People remember that?”

“Oh, you ju-just get kissed so fucking often you can’t remember the first?”

“Stop entertain’ this fuckin’ bellend.” It’s coming from Maran’s short, aggravated partner. He’d gone fully prone on the cot, hands tucked behind his head with his eyes closed, but Benny knew he hadn’t actually fallen asleep. Knew he’d been listening the whole time, because on the rare chance Benny’s eyes wandered from Maran and found him, he’d been occasionally watching. Observing them. Probably wondering that real question.

Why aren’t you asking us for intel? Why aren’t you trying to get Maran to spill something important? Why aren’t you using food as a means for blackmail, if you have the option?

Benson stands from the chair, one big lazy swoop of his body up. He kicks the chair back a little as he does.

“It’s the hair,” Benny says, pointing at Maran. “Reminds me of him. Enlisted wh-when I was sixteen. That was when they were l-letting kids join, remember? ‘Cause of those big conflicts.” He splays his hands on the word, smiling real big. Conflicts. Big war that, back when he’d joined. One of those short lived, violent ones that he’d not really known anything about until he was docked on a ship with a rifle in his hand. Infantry. Cannon fodder. Wear ‘em down, weed ‘em out, mow down the front line so the big stars can go in, sort out the rest.

“Paired up with this ju-junior pilot. All the pilots got guards, right? He was my first kiss,” Benny puts a hand to his chest, like he’s nostalgic. “Also shaved his h-head. Must be a weak spot for me.”

“Sixteen’s young,” Maran comments and it momentarily makes Benny feel light headed, because that was not really the reaction he was going for. Or expecting. Because, well, sixteen was fucking young. He could not recall being sixteen any longer; actually didn’t even remember the j-pilots name. Just that he’d been sweet. Really sweet. No idea where he went after that, because Benny had been shuffled off after the first skirmish. Had a good eye for explosions that officers seemed keen on. Benny stares at Maran for a moment, trying to think of a witty reply but he just scuffs his steel toed boot over the floor and shrugs.

“Well, you grow up on a—a shit colony and they shill the propaganda enough, what else is there?” Benny folds his hands behind his head, eyes still hooded and forward. He smiles again though, but its small. “Just wanted to taste re-real fruit, I guess.” Maran stares at him—yeah, the freckles were what made Benny want to stare back. Just that nice spray of freckles.

“Benson.”

“Shit!” Benny’s hands fly up as he turns, facing Lark, standing there. He’s got hands shoved into his jacket, eyes narrowed so hard, they’re all dark. “Wh-Why are you fucking sneakin’ up on me?”

“What are you doing?”

“Interrogatin’ us. You wanna get rid of ‘im for us?” Benji’s voice cuts loud across the room and makes Benny skitter closer to Lark. He finally drops his hands, slapping them awkwardly over his thighs a few times while he smiles at Lark innocently.

“Wanted to see what the fuss was about. Baby’s been down here almost every other night.”

“Corporal Wolffe,” Lark starts, head tilting toward the prisoners. Soft little mind your tone around the prisoners look he’s got. Benny wants to tell him no one fucking cares but him. He likes Xavier so much, just marry the guy already. Kiss and make out and Benny could watch or something, it’s so annoying being around two people who just move in such easy tandem. Benny shoves his hands into his back pockets, his smile coming out a bit of a sneer until Lark steps forward and he scoots back.

“Yep yep,” Benny says. “You—You on night duty then?”

Lark walks past him and sinks into the chair he’d just been occupying.

“Captain says someone has to be here at all times. Was supposed to be Wilson. Saw him in the mess and was worried no one was down here. Guess you had that covered?” The shorter soldier’s head rolls toward him with a sarcastic perk of an eyebrow. Benny smiles guiltily, shrugging his shoulders like he can’t be shamed out of this one. He’d had fun. And was now firmly out of stored rations. Worth it. “Don’t get in trouble, Ben,” Lark mumbles quietly—and it has a note of affection that softens Benny a little.

He doesn’t spare the prisoners a second glance when he leaves, even if he wants to. Even if he really wants to.

#nomi #benny #maran #benji #lark #benny x maran #space horror au

[masterwords]

two tickets to paradise (pt. 5)

Summary: Derek takes Hotch on a much-needed vacation. (Post-Route 66) In this adventure they visit the laundromat, and Hotch gets made fun of a bit for his terrible accent when speaking Spanish.

Warnings: mentions of past abuse (hotch), parental death (past/canon/derek), food, alcohol

Words: 4.2k

Notes: Yeah it's more cute. That's all this is. Cute romancy shit. Because when I'm mean to them I need to make sure I'm also nice to them. Vacation continues!

Read on AO3: two tickets to paradise

** CHAPTER LIST **

**

He didn't bother to pack his hand brace. Couldn't imagine a time he'd need it. Sure, his hands hurt regularly and you could find him pumping his fists for a good ten minutes in the morning to loosen up sore joints after years of shooting guns and typing up reports and various traumatic injuries. He'd broken fingers, sprained wrists, bloodied knuckles...the years and his job had been unkind.

But he didn't bring anything for them because he hadn't needed them in so long and he wanted to pack light. Maybe silly, but true. After the surgery, his stomach hurting gave way to his back being constantly sore which meant he had to pack his damn heating pad and he really didn't have room for another daily irritation. He could count on Derek to have packed something he could use anyway. Derek was in the shower washing the sand out of all of his nooks and crannies, or attempting to anyway, after another afternoone traversing the beach and getting into all sorts of shenanigans while Hotch slept the daylight hours away. Things were getting precarious. Would he be fully nocturnal by the time vacation was over? He was starting to think it likely.

The embarrassing fall earlier that day, he knew, was the culprit for his sore wrist and stiff fingers. It was worth it, the hike itself had been the stuff of dreams...walking through ruins had been a childhood dream, a scrawny little boy reading about Spanish conquistadors but really only wanting to know more about the Mayans themselves. He couldn't have cared less about the men who came to take over their land, but these ruins, these temples and the sacred clay that had crumbled to dust...that meant something to him and no sore wrist could ever sour that. His skin had touched a piece of history, he'd held a shard of pottery, beheld something so much bigger than himself that the ache in his joints meant very little. Still, he might need to baby his left hand a bit in order to continue the fun, they had itineraries to follow. While Derek showered, Hotch rifled through his bag until he found his little first aid kit. It was messy, not well kept, there were band-aid wrappers crisp and dried, scattered and crumpled inside and the antibiotic ointment looked like it was probably from the 1980s, but he found a tattered old ace bandage with a bent up metal clip and figured that would do the job just fine. He wasn't about to be picky.

He wasn't injured, he was just sore. It took some doing to wrap it himself, but he managed it well enough...sloppy, a little loose, did the job. There was a little plastic ice pack in the freezer meant to be shoved into a cooler for food and drinks, so he nabbed it and wandered out to the patio to sit in the sun with ice on his sore hand for a while.

A beer would help. Crisp, golden, icy almost slush working from his throat to his belly. The way it spread its chilly tendrils through his chest made him suck the air in a little deeper and all he smelled was briny salt air...and he smiled. He smiled and he relaxed into the lounge chair, turning his face up at the afternoon sunlight as it blanketed their beach. No one was out now. This was the time they ate or they explored, the home hours were early and late. They had neighbors on both sides now, a fair distance away but they were there. The college kids were still hanging around another few days, spring break wasn't over yet. On the other side was a couple of newlyweds, not too young but younger than he and Derek. Of course Derek had already introduced himself and offered to have them over for dinner one night. He couldn't go anywhere without making friends, and Hotch thought maybe he was already sad that his college buddies would have to return to school before the two of them vacated the house. Heaven forbid it just be the two of them. But then the quiet newlyweds showed up, each of them on their second marriage, each coming in with children, a blended family making a fresh start.

They would be coming for dinner the next night, which meant real shopping, actual food in their fridge, a real plan. Hotch was almost giddy over the thought. He'd been doing his very best to live spontaneously, but he was a planner through and through and he'd felt so untethererd...it was nice to have this one thing. Just a little sliver of planned fun. He would find a board game, maybe, or they'd swim in the pool. They could use the grill outside, have some beers, laugh. He was a good planner. And now that he was relaxing and adapting into this vacation lifestyle, Derek had let him have the reigns for the little makeshift dinner party. “We need to do some laundry,” he'd said, writing a little list after Derek told him about the invitation. “Do a spot of cleaning up...get some groceries. Just a few. Enough to be proper hosts.” Derek grinned, watching the way he'd lit up over it.

But he wasn't doing any of it. None of the cleaning, he didn't quite feel up to it yet. They had another day, he wasn't bothered, wasn't worried. In another life he might have had a checklist and been doing something daily to make sure they were ready...now he was willing to get to it when he got to it.

“What's that?” Derek asked, wandering out onto the patio in nothing but his towel. He was indicating the half-ass scraggly bandage wrapped terribly around his hand, Hotch didn't need to look at him to know that much. He lifted his arm and tried to flex his stiff fingers with little movement. Only a wince.

“Sore,” he replied quietly. “It's fine. Just following protocol.”

“You wrapped it like shit. Clooney coulda done better”

Hotch scowled. “Clooney doesn't have thumbs.” He offered his hand to Derek without bothering to open his eyes, to argue further, he knew what Derek was going to say next. “Go ahead, your majesty.”

Derek's hands were gentle as he crouched beside Hotch and unwrapped the brown bandage. He held Hotch's hand in his for a moment, turning it over, examining it for the telltale swelling in his knuckles that made everything difficult. It didn't look too bad, that was a good sign. Slowly he began re-wrapping it, tighter, pulling the bandage especially close to his wrist to hold it in place. He would tell you it was the shooting and the typing until he was blue in the face, but Derek only saw Foyet mocking them in these moments. They would never be rid of him. He was a parasite that had attached itself to Hotch so completely that there wasn't any way to separate them. They just had to live with it now. Find ways to mitigate the damage.

But Derek didn't have tunnel vision. Holding Hotch's bandaged wrist in his hand, he thought about the first time he'd heard him say anything about it hurting. It was years ago, when things were new and exciting, when they were still hiding their middle of the night hotel room visits from everyone. Hotch had used his SUV as a battering ram somewhere in butt fuck Oregon, some highway surrounded by trees and right on a damn cliff. His memory wasn't as good as Hotch's and didn't hold a candle to Reid's, he could remember glimpses but not all of it. He did remember seeing him standing there on the side of the road with his gun drawn and his arm hanging limp at his side, he remembered making devastating eye contact and continuing to drive when that insufferable bastard waved him off, practically ordered him to keep going.

It was one of those moments where he was forced to consider what he wanted out of life. Choices he was making...right or wrong. Hotch wrecked his vehicle, he was bleeding, and for the job Derek did what? He didn't stop, he just kept going, followed the murdering bastard all the way to the edge of the cliff for no reason at all. He was already long gone. He'd made his choice before Derek made his to keep going. And wasn't that the same awful soul sucking choice that the unsub had made when he drove exhausted? Killing his wife? Derek wasn't sure how to live with himself then, but he found a way and he kept finding a way. Over and over. He supposed they both did, in their own ways. Hotch & Morgan were separate from Aaron & Derek, and that had to be it. Anything more and it got too complicated.

Easier to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission. If only he'd stopped. No more, they were in Mexico now on that same premise but he was making it work for him now.

This vacation was helping in ways Derek hadn't even contemplated. That Hotch would take the initiative here, before he was in misery, was a change he hadn't foreseen. He pulled Hotch's hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, smiling. “There. I'm telling Jess about this one.”

“She'll worry.”

“Nah, she's gonna be thrilled. You did this on your own! I didn't have to bully you. Between this and the naps...I'm not sure she's even gonna know who you are when you get back.”

That didn't exactly make Hotch smile, but the sentiment was sweet. He understood. “You never change.”

“I don't need to change. I'm already perfect. We're on your wellness journey here.”

Hotch rolled his eyes and let them close again. His hand already felt better in Derek's wrap, he knew what he was doing. A splash in the pool startled him, the cold water splashing against his bare legs and he looked in time to see Derek naked and swimming like a torpedo beneath the surface.

“What do you wanna do today?” he asked when he breached the surface, crystal droplets of water beading over his slick freshly shaven head. Hotch couldn't help smiling...he was gorgeous. Felt like all he did these days was smile and he hated to admit that Derek and Jess and Cruz were right. He did need this.

“We have to go do laundry. Clearly you're out of clothes, and I'm dangerously close. And that blanket...”

“That blanket isn't done seeing action, buddy.”

“No, I expect not. But our neighbors don't need to see what we do on vacation. It needs a wash.”

(x)

When he was nine, Hotch's mother packed a few outfits into a bag and dragged him out of the house while his father slept off a whiskey bender. A celebration, he'd said, won a big case. Don't you think you should pace yourself? She'd asked and was met with a bloody lip for all her concern. That was it, the end of her patience with his outbursts. His “fits” as she called them, explained them away. Excused them. Somehow it made sense to her that he'd take his anger out on them, she could make it make sense. His job was stressful, lives hung in the balance, but when he was happy and he still crumpled up his meaty fist and hurt Aaron? Hurt her? Well, there was no hope left.

They stayed in a roadside motel two towns over for a few nights with what little she had in her coffee can, and they ate lunch in the laundromat down the road. Peanut butter and jelly was cheap and easy. She always put extra jelly on hers, he only wanted the peanut butter. The jelly hurt his teeth and made his jaw tense.

They didn't have to. She had family she could have called, family with money, but she had an over abundance of pride so she never did. If she was going to leave her husband and save her son, she was going to damn well do it on her own. Not jump from one abusive relationship to another...because that's all it was. Her husband put hand on them, but her family tried to control her every move (and Aaron's future) with their money. She wanted desperately to be rid of all of it.

Just she and Aaron. And times were hard, but they managed.

They would sit with their greasy potato chips and she smiled easy and ate two, three little shitty sandwiches at a time while he picked his way through one. Looking back, he felt silly not realizing that she was eating more...and then two weeks into their carefree road trip, she started throwing up in the bathroom every morning. A quick trip to a women's clinic in the city and she knew they had to go home.

She was pregnant.

She and Hotch could live forever on her small wages from waitressing the breakfast shift at the diner attached to the motel. Discounted rates, good tips, lots of free food. The early morning crowd, mostly doctors and cops just off of their long shifts, tipped a pretty young lady well in those days. They'd been doing just fine...but another baby, no way. This was no life to bring a new baby into, she reasoned.

She needed her husband. They had to go home. Hotch felt like crying while he packed, but instead he just asked her for one more laundromat lunch date. She couldn't say no to him.

It started with a phone call. He watched from his perch beside the big metal dryer while she talked to his father on the pay phone. She looked so beautiful, he couldn't imagine how anyone would want to hurt her. But her features darkened, and she was harsh with him when he felt bold enough to try and convince her that they didn't need to go home. He could eat less, he wouldn't need any new school clothes, they could find a small apartment...he would sleep on the couch, she could have the bedroom and he didn't need any toys he promised. Begged.

The laundromat was where his good memories lived. Sometimes, when he was feeling lost or run down, he would throw his clothes into a bin and find the quietest most desolate laundromat he could just to be alone with his thoughts. His apartment had a washer and dryer, and for a while it was fine, but after Foyet...using it gave him a chill he couldn't shake, checking those oily shapeshifting shadows over and over when he walked by, when he stood too long. He found himself wishing for nights at the laundromat again.

Derek's memories of laundromats were a little different. Their washer broke almost every other month, it seemed, and his mother never had the money to fix it right away. When his father was alive, he could whack it with a wrench or tighten some hunk of metal inside and suddenly it would clunk along again until it rattled apart. It was a running joke in the house. But when he was gone, there was no one who knew which part to hit with the wrench, or which piece to tighten, so she would withhold the kids' allowance for a few weeks (always with the promise of catching up) to get it fixed. Until then, the family would pack up their dinner and clothes in trash bags and spend an evening at the laundromat. Kids with their homework, Fran with a romance novel, every person putting in equal shares of folding to make it go quicker. He and his sisters would run around the tables, play hide and seek, get into shouting matches over who was cheating at Monopoly and raid the bubblegum machines with any change their mother had leftover. (Or bits they found hiding under and behind machines. People dropped coins all the time into places adult hands couldn't quite reach but kid hands...it was like treasure.) They would leave with orange, green and blue tongues, clean laundry to last another week, and a handful of memories. (And maybe a headache for Fran, but a smile on her face.)

When Derek got his first paycheck, his first real paycheck, he bought his mom a brand new washer and dryer. He framed the old fix-it wrench and hung it on the wall above the new machines along with all of their memories of weekly visits to Bubbleland.

Now, the two of them and all of their mixed bag of memories were converging on a small laundromat in Sisal with outdated machines that rattled while they worked and took two or three attempts to actually get things dry. They were sure they could find another place, but this was right next door to where they wanted to have dinner so they would be able to put their clothes in the wash and go have a bite to eat, or get something to go and eat it there in the noisy room by themselves. The cashier played a game of dice with a few other men, laughing and drinking beer, completely uninterested in the only patrons of the place.

While Derek exchanged their money for coins at the desk, Hotch sat at a rickety little card table attempting to pre-treat their stained clothes with one hand. The other, still bandaged, was mostly useless. The soreness had become an unrelenting stiffness and he was doing his best to just forget he had two hands for the rest of the day. The only thing it was good for at the moment was being used as a way to pin the shirts to the table.

“Why don't you go order the food, I'll do this.”

Hotch looked so pathetic sitting there at the table with his busted up hand wrapped and elevated to shoulder level while he held the shirt to the table with his elbow and pressed the little stain remover pen over and over the beer spills and food stains. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose and dangled dangerously there, hanging on only barely and his long hair flopped in his face but neither broke his focus. He'd been living in his glasses since they landed in Mexico. Vacation, to him, meant not fooling around with contacts if nothing else.

It was cute. Derek didn't mind it so much, even if Hotch was ignoring him. “Okay. I'll go then.”

Hotch looked up and scrunched his nose. He didn't like the way Derek just...gave in. That wasn't right, he was supposed to put up a little fight. “No, help me get these in the wash and we'll go together. We can eat there.”

Derek couldn't say no to that, and why would he? Dinner at the restaurant sounded heavenly. He was practically salivating over their chicken mole, he'd eaten it three times already and couldn't get enough. They knew him by name already. Hotch hadn't gotten the same thing twice, and that was shocking, the way they'd swapped roles for once. The first night he'd had the ceviche, and then some shrimp tacos, and then some other fish dish he couldn't pronounce. “What are you getting tonight?” Derek asked when they entered the sidewalk.

“Lobster. You're paying, right?”

No one in the restaurant spoke English, and the two of them spoke barely passable Spanish though they were improving considerably over their time. Hotch could read it and understand fairly well but his accent was garbage and they'd laughed at him more than once. Derek had more of a flair for trilling his R's and he had more flair.

“You sound like the um...oh...Bueller...Bueller...you know?” the man who ran the laundromat had said in his thick accent the first time they'd appeared in his establishment and Hotch had attempted to converse with him. It didn't prove necessary, anyway, the man spoke perfect English and enjoyed mocking Hotch endlessly. His name was Jorje, and even saying his name elicited mockery if it came from Hotch. He wasn't used to anyone ribbing him like this...it caught him off guard and led to a very serious discussion with Derek on the way home about how he felt about that.

“You hated it,” Derek had said seriously. “You wanted to pull rank didn't you?”

“No,” Hotch replied indignantly. “It's just that...” his voice trailed off for a moment before he huffed a little and stopped. “No one but you and Jessica ever talk to me like that.”

“Well. Get used to it. These people don't need to know that they should be afraid of you. They see some middle aged guy with floppy hair in need of a trim, wearing his incredibly handsome boyfriend's clothes because his were too khaki, who walks a little stiff and is probably a little too quiet for his own good...”

“My hair needs a trim?” What he really wanted to take aim at was the middle aged bit, but his back hadn't stopped hurting in about four solid weeks now so he really had no legs to stand on. His own two didn't even want to do the job. Derek had only laughed and hooked his arm around Hotch's waist.

“Let it go. Embrace the anonymity. Let Jorje talk his shit. You can take it. Might even deserve it.”

This wasn't their first or last trip to the washers. Derek couldn't pass up the chance to be around anyone who had the nerve to talk to Hotch this way so while Hotch had, in a sort of off-hand way, suggested they try out another laundromat down the road with more updated equipment...Derek wouldn't hear of it.

This kind of fun was uncommon at best in their daily lives. This was a treat.

“Your hand still bothering you?” Derek asked while they waited for their food. Hotch was fiddling with the bandage mindlessly and shrugged.

“It's fine. Not bad. Just stiff.”

Derek understood that. He'd blown his knee out in college and could still wake up some mornings without being able to bend it for a full ten minutes after waking. Like it locked in place. A thumb jabbed in right beneath the kneecap seemed to loosen it up just fine, and it didn't hurt so he'd just ignore it the same way Hotch ignored his inability to make a fist some days. They were getting old and all of the abuse they'd thrown at their bodies would be creeping up on them, one by one. They wouldn't be outrunning any of it. The idea was just that they each knew how to fix the other's little...quirks.

Hotch's was coming faster these days, thanks to Foyet, but that didn't mean he was alone. They would get old side by side if Derek had his way. And he hoped that Hotch would see it that way, too. Hotch could walk with his cane and push Derek in his wheelchair and they'd still be gorgeous.

That was the plan anyway.

Emily told him he was an idiot. She'd said it in no uncertain terms, that he needed to watch Hotch. “You don't hide things,” she'd warned him. “You might ignore them for a while but you don't hide them. He doesn't know any other way. Watch him.” Two weeks later he was bleeding to death on the inside and none of them was any the wiser.

“You'd tell me if it was more than that, right?” Derek asked, suddenly a little too serious as he chewed on Emily's words. Hotch stopped playing with the bandage long enough to take in the solemn look that washed over Derek's features, the way his bright eyes went stormy. He didn't have a response to that. Not sure what to say. He knew what Derek wanted him to say, but he couldn't see how this compared. This was just...it was just pain. Not even pain...not even that bad...it was just something. Or it wasn't anything. It wasn't going to kill him, it was just going to make it hard for him to fold their clothes in an hour. It was going to make it hard for him to hold a pen or give a hand job or play volleyball in the morning or any number of other things...but it wasn't going to kill him.

“Derek, I'm fine. I've been...”

Derek's hands flew up defensively and waved. “No, stop, no...I know. I'm sorry. I get caught up sometimes. I know. I just hate the idea that you're suffering while we're here. With your back and then your hand...”

“I'm not suffering. It's a nuisance, sure, fine. But it isn't bothering me at all. I'm having a great time.”

“You wouldn't lie to me?”

“Well,” Hotch grinned and Derek frowned. “No. Honest. Sinceramente.”

Derek rolled his eyes and let out a loud burst of laughter that caught the attention of everyone in the tiny restaurant. “God you really do sound like the teacher from Ferris Bueller...naw, you know what you sound like? One of those computer translators they got on like Google and shit. You sound like Siri, but the Ben Stein version. Siri...how do you say honestly in Spanish? Sinceramente.”

Hotch's pout didn't even phase him.

It did lead to kissing in the street. Ducked in the space between the buildings for a few minutes communing with the shadows. Hotch may only have had one hand that worked the way he'd like, but he didn't need more than that right now.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #criminal minds #hotchgan #mortch #hotch x morgan #aaron hotchner x derek morgan

[videography77]

How to Make a Great Guacamole Recipe It is crucial to make the perfect dip by using fresh lime juice. Knowing a few tricks can help you identify ripe avocados. Avocados can sometimes be difficult to pick so make sure that they are fully ripe. Here are some tips to make sure your guacamole is delicious. You can also buy store-bought avocados if you don’t possess a quality avocado. Simple guacamole recipe Follow six easy steps to create a simple guacamole. You will need fresh lime juice (or cilantro), ripe avocados, and salt to taste. Sometimes, you might add diced tomato. For a creamy guacamole, ensure that avocados have reached their peak and are softened slightly by being squeezed. You can squeeze avocados to make them more ripe. The lime juice and lemon juice will keep the avocados ripe. Keep the jar in refrigerator until it is ready to use. Once the guacamole have been jarred properly, remove the wrapper and place it into an airtight plastic container. 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Guacamole, which is naturally dairy-free, can be added to many meals. Health benefits from guacamole Guacamole has many health advantages, but avocados have the most healthy fat. Monounsaturated, or avocado fat, is an excellent source of fiber. It can also help lower blood cholesterol. Avocados also have oleic Acid, a type if monounsaturated oils that are associated with cardiovascular health. Guacamole consumption may reduce blood pressure. Guacamole, aside from its tangy flavour, is loaded with nutrients. The limes contain vitamin C which can be used to help the body produce collagen. Collagen is the main protein found in mammals. It comprises between 25 and 35%. Guacamole also includes fibre that moves food through your intestinal tracts and reduces the chance of constipation. Guacamole also contains 4 mgs of Niacin, an important vitamin to maintain the proper function of your digestive tract. Avocados contain phytochemicals, antioxidants, and other nutrients. Phytochemicals can protect our bodies and prevent chronic diseases. The eye-healthy phytochemicals of carotenoid carotenoid guacamole can be beneficial for your eyes. Beta-carotene as well as lutein have a lot of benefits for our eyesight. These substances are effective against cataracts as well as macular degeneration. Guacamole may be an excellent choice for people with vision issues due to its high nutrient level. Using Hass avocados in guacamole recipe Hass avocados can be used in guava salsa to reduce fat, but still maintain the delicious flavor. California-grown Hass avocados possess a creamy, buttery flavor and texture. They are available in several colors including green, black, and purple. Their skin is very smooth and stretches slightly when squeezed. Hass avocados offer more good fats than any other variety. They are therefore good for your skin as well as your heart. Using Hass avocados in guamole recipes is easy. A medium bowl is all that's needed. With a fork, mash the avocados to make them creamy. A half of an onions can also be chopped finely. You can also soak the onion in warmwater for five to ten minutes before cutting. To temper the dip's consistency, use fresh tomatoes You can't be sure of the taste of Hass avocados so make sure you buy one that is perfectly ripe. Overripe avocados may overpower the rest of the ingredients and don't have the desired taste. When making guacamole from Hass avocados, you may also add a small amount of sour-cream to the mix. Using totopos for guacamole recipe Totopos are a wonderful addition to any recipe for guacamole. These small tortilla chips consist of salted masa, which has been toasted in circular ovens that are tandoori-style. You can either eat them right away or put them in the freezer for several hours. To serve totopos mixed with guacamole cut them into triangles, or strips. Place them in an even stack. After several hours, the chicken will be cooked. For guacamole you need to pit avocados. The avocado will be creamier when you add the other ingredients. Mix together chopped onion, cilantro, jalapeno, and tomato. If you like, add salt and pepper. You may add extra virgin olive oil if you'd like. Make sure to remove the avocado seeds before serving the guacamole. Preparing guacamole requires that you purchase avocados in advance. Use a dark green avocado that is easy to squeeze. If the fruit isn't easy to squeeze, you can cut it up and make it later. Guacamole can be served alongside tortilla chips as an appetizer. You should serve guacamole either at room temperature or chilled. Otherwise, the flavor will be lost and it will become mushy. Fresh lime or lemon water will preserve the green color. Totopos are a Mexican favorite snack. They are often served alongside salsa and guacamole. They are a tasty snack that you can make in as little as 15 minutes. The ingredients for the tortilla chips only require three. However, they can be made in a variety of ways. Totopos are a popular Mexican side dish. They can also be used as an accompaniment. They are made from corn, and have a subtle nutty flavour. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUGTrKOa5Rg

#Dishes #Food #Guacamole #Food &amp;amp; Drinks

[cuisinecravings]

Can You Freeze Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes?

Can You Freeze Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes? Prepackaged meals have a bad image when it comes to being healthful. However, it appears that store-bought mashed potatoes are an exception. Most premade mashed potatoes offer good values in terms of fat, saturated fat, sugar, salt, iron, calories, calcium, and fiber. What name comes to mind when you're asked which brand is the best?

Can You Freeze Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes Bob Evans mashed potatoes are among the greatest mashed potatoes available. If you're in the need for mashed potatoes but don't want to go through the trouble of preparing them yourself, go to the supermarket and pick yourself a packet of Bob Evans. However, like with any other cuisine, you may have some leftovers. This begs the question, can Bob Evans mashed potatoes be frozen?

Can Bob Evans mashed potatoes be frozen?

Yes, Bob Evans mashed potatoes may be frozen. Freezing Bob Evans mashed potatoes has no effect on the texture or flavor. When you reheat them, the flavor enhances and the texture does not become mushy or gritty. If properly frozen, Bob Evans mashed potatoes may be kept in the freezer for 11 to 12 months before going bad. Some brands already sell frozen mashed potatoes. Bob Evans mashed potatoes are buttery and creamy, just like home-cooked mashed potatoes. Bob Mashed potatoes are quite simple to freeze. Freezing them does not necessitate the employment of any special equipment or time-consuming preparation procedures before preserving them for future use. So, how do you freeze them in the first place?

Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes Freeze Instructions

Bob Evans mashed potatoes are without a doubt some of the greatest potatoes available. Many customers even choose to buy Bob Evans mashed potatoes as part of their grocery rather than eating them in one of their restaurants. However, they have a horrible habit of turning bad soon. Some of them have been known to spoil before their expiration date. What is the best way to freeze it? Can You Freeze Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes Step 1: Make the Mashed Potatoes When it comes to Bob Evans mashed potatoes, there isn't much to it. All you have to do is take the mashed potatoes out of the store-bought packaging. If you want the mashed potatoes to stay even longer in the freezer, remove them from their store-bought wrappers before freezing. If you haven't opened the package yet, you may be able to freeze them and get away with it. If you tampered with the wrapper, you must pre-freeze them before freezing them. Step 2 : Pre-freezing Remove the mashed potatoes from their store-bought wrappers and cover a baking sheet with parchment paper or cling film. Then, using a spoon, scoop out pieces of the mashed potatoes and lay them in little mounds on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. After that, place the baking sheet in the freezer until the mashed potatoes are completely frozen. This procedure improves the freezing properties of the mashed potatoes. Of course, you can save time by freezing them in freezer bags directly from the premade bags, but you risk not having the full batch of mashed potatoes freeze firm. You can wind up with a batch of mashed potatoes that is just partially frozen. The unfrozen core will spoil the batch as a whole. Step 3: Stockpiling and Freezing When the mashed potatoes have frozen firm, remove the baking pan from the freezer and transfer the frozen mashed potatoes to airtight plastic containers, or use Ziploc bags and squeeze out as much air as possible before closing them. If you must use an airtight plastic container, utilize tiny containers to limit the amount of trapped air. After storing the frozen pile of mashed potatoes in your favorite method, mark the bags or plastic containers with the date of freeze and contents so you can keep track of what you've kept in your freezer and how long it's been there. Place the Ziploc bags or plastic containers in a section of your freezer where the temperature is controlled to prevent the mashed potatoes from thawing accidently.

Thawing Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes

Thanksgiving has passed, but you still need mashed potatoes. Then you realize you have some frozen in the freezer, but how can you bring them back to that steamy dish of buttery, creamy mashed potatoes you crave? If you have a plan for your frozen Bob Evans mashed potatoes, you can simply transfer the frozen batch you want to defrost from the freezer to the refrigerator and let it to thaw overnight before reheating in the oven or on the stovetop. If you're a quick cook, you can reheat frozen Bob Evan mashed potatoes in the oven or microwave. Place the quantity of frozen mashed potatoes in an oven-safe dish and bake for 20 to 30 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit (176.67 degrees Celsius). If you prefer to use the microwave, place the frozen mashed potatoes in a microwave-safe dish and cover it to retain some of the steam and prevent them from drying out. Depending on the type of microwave you have, heat it at 50 percent power for 5 minutes.

Which Store-Bought Mashed Potatoes are the Best?

Bob Evans mashed potatoes are known for being of Thanksgiving quality. Bob Evans' mashed potatoes are particularly buttery, creamy, and garlicky when compared to other kinds of store-bought mashed potatoes. They're excellent; they taste just like handmade mashed potatoes.

Spoiled Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes: How to Spot Them

Mold appears as the first indicator that your Bob Evans mashed potatoes have gone bad. If you look closely, you may see that the packing no longer appears to be in good condition. If the mold is not visible, take a smell; if the stench is strange or distinctive, the mold has gone bad. Spoiled mashed potatoes will have a slimy feel as well. If you see this, don't eat it. Consuming rotten food might cause stomach distress or food poisoning. Related Articles :- - Can You Freeze Grapefruit Juice? - Can You Freeze Waffle Batter? - Can You Freeze Macaroni Salad? - Can You Freeze Canned Beans? - Can You Freeze Roast Vegetables? - Can You Freeze Apple Cider? Read the full article

[yutanology]

Kids (Prologue)| NCT Dream × Fem!Reader

Warning : cliche, a few cusses, little fluff, possessiveness, NCT Dream being bratty and stubborn. No proofread :(

Synopsis : Y/n somehow ended up helping Mark babysit his stepbrothers for the weekend. That two days of babysitting soon turned into frequent days of her visiting them as they would throw a fit if she wouldn't. When she thought everything would be fine soon, it only became worse as time passed by.

Take note that Mark and Y/n are at the same age(15). 00 line are 7 while Chenle is 6 and Jisung is 5.

"Vroom! Vroom! Vrooom!" Jisung said loudly through his pouted lips. He was sitting on his big toy car, imitating the roaring machine of an actual car.

Behind him was Chenle pushing him on all sides of the wide nursery room to make Jisung feel like he's really driving the car. The younger kid raised both his hands up, enjoying the ride and the room was filled with their cute giggles.

"Hey, slow down. You might get hurt—" Mark immediately cut his own words, replacing it with a loud yelp when the wheels of the car they were riding ran on his toes. "Ahhh!" he instinctively crouched down to hold his toes that were now throbbing in pain.

The duo didn't even bother to look back at him and ask if he's okay cuz they're too entertained to even notice his suffering.

"Y/n, help!" he called out for the female who just entered the room carrying a very hyper Haechan on her arms that she chased around the house for almost half an hour so she could get him to wear his pants.

She had such a great time giving him a bath. Haechan splashed water on her clothes, saying that he wanted her to join him on his bubble bath. Ending him getting her hoodie soaked wet (she took it off and let it dry), thankfully, her shirt was safe.

He wanted to play with her all the time. He doesn't want her to take a break even for a damn minute and he never ran out of some things he'd like to say. Either he makes sense or not, he doesn't care.

She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be enjoying her time alone at home while it's still weekend but here she is, babysitting her friend's stepbrothers. It just so happened that she met Mark's parents when both of them walked home together yesterday from school.

They had a little chitchat and eventually got along. Then that's when they asked her a favor to help Mark take care of his stepbrothers during the weekend as they won't be able to keep an eye on them because of their busy schedules.

She was about to decline until she heard that they're going to pay her a fair price. Yup, she needed money that's why she agreed with them. Her family is not as rich as the Lees so she can't always get the things she wanted to buy. So in order to be able to, she had to work for it. She got her parent's permission that night, letting her do what she wanted.

"Why? What happened?" she asked Mark, trying to keep Haechan still or he'll fall down but she decided to put his feet on the floor. "Nooo! Carry me! Carry me!" Haechan whined, holding his arms up to her.

She tiredly sighed, picking him up again. She knew the last thing to do to him is to make him upset. He'd cry nonstop and would totally be mad at everyone. She didn't want that. Things would be harder to handle than it already is right now.

"My toes freaking hurt! I don't think I'll be able to stand up." He over exaggerated.

Y/n approached him to check if he's alright then found his toes flamming red. "Oh god, uhm, I'll go get some ice or something. I don't know how to treat that but I hope it would help." she rushed to the kitchen with Haechan still on her arms.

Opening the top of the fridge, she saw an ice pack. She grabbed it and was about to close the fridge when Haechan spotted the fruit popsicles. "I want that." he pointed at the sweet treats that caught his attention.

She reached the first popsicle, "I don't like that. I want the strawberry." then she gave him one. He better not have cavities for eating too much sweets or else she'd be blamed for it.

She helped him get rid of the plastic wrapper, throwing it on the trash bin before letting him eat the fruit popsicle. His eyes almost literally twinkled once the cold strawberry treat touched his tongue. At least, he's happy now.

They both went back to the room, handing Mark the ice pack to help it ease the pain on his poor toes. "Thanks." Mark sighed and she nodded, sitting beside him on the sofa but their eyes are still on the kids just to make sure they're okay.

"Where are your maids? Aren't they supposed to be helping us here?"

"They all went home to their families. Only our cook and our driver are the only workers left here." That explains why she didn't bump into someone else in this house.

Renjun was not so far from them. He's quietly sitting on the carpeted floor attaching puzzle pieces together, focusing on completing the picture into whole. Despite the whole chaos going on around him, he somehow found peace on the corner of the room.

Well, not until he found out that Jeno was chewing on the other puzzle pieces. He's been trying to look at the missing items on his puzzle only to find out that they're with Jeno all the time.

The two kids fought. Renjun was huffing mad while Jeno was crying. Even though he already said sorry, Renjun doesn't seem to forgive him anytime soon for ruining his puzzle that he worked on for hours since this morning.

Mark limped his way to Jeno to calm him down and Y/n took care of Renjun (and Haechan, of course). She was in the middle of a conversation with Renjun when she felt a tug on her shirt.

Looking down, she saw a sleepy Jaemin rubbing his eyes. "I'm sleepy." he said. He must've been worn out from joining Haechan at every trouble he initiated.

"Oh, wait a second." she told him, he silently nodded.

"Haechan, can you please sit here with Renjun for a while?" she carefully put him beside the said boy.

"Huh? But why? Where are you going?" he asked her after he took out the popsicle out of his mouth.

She lifted Jaemin on her arms this time which Haechan frowned at. "I'll just go take him to his room. I'll be back, I promise." She waited him to say something but he stayed silent, glaring at the boy playing her hair, completely unaware of the piercing gaze of his stepbrother.

"Uhm, we'll go now..." she awkwardly informed him before making her way out of the room for the nth time of the day. This time, she's the one unaware of Jaemin sticking his tongue at Haechan to tease him. Before he could stomp his way to him, Y/n was already out of the room with Jaemin, leaving both Renjun and Haechan angry of different reasons.

Throughout the whole time she carried Jaemin to his room, he continued to play with her hair. Twirling silky strands of her hair on his small fingers, droopy eyes slowly closing and his head weighed on her shoulder.

Assuming that he fell asleep, Y/n could only sigh in relief that one of the most chaotic step brothers finally took his rest. After climbing a few more flight of stairs, she reached his room at last. The whole mansion is too big for her liking but she's not the one living here so she can't have something to say to it.

She pushed the door open, laying Jaemin on his queen sized bed then she covered half of his body with his comforters. "Sleep well, Jaemin." she kissed his forehead before she left him and he slept with a smile adorning his lips.

"What took you so long?" Haechan immediately asked her, arms crossed on his chest and his brows still furrowed together. "Haechan, you know how far Jaemin's room is from here. Come on, stop being sulky. I'm already here."

She glanced at Mark reading a book for Jisung, Chenle and Jeno on the table. "Why don't you join them?" Haechan shook his head. "Because I don't want to."

"Aren't you going to take your afternoon nap too?"

"No."

"What about—" he didn't let her finish her words as he stood up and stomped away out of the nursery room. He left her there confused. Renjun who had finally cooled off his anger approached her.

"He's mad at you."

Y/n looked down at him. "I just tucked Jaemin to sleep. Why'd he gotta make a big deal about it?" she asked as if she's talking to herself. Renjun knew the answer but didn't blurt out anything about it instead he held her hand.

"Can we go pick flowers on the garden?" she smiled at him with a nod. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

#nct #nct dream #yandere #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop idol #mark lee #lee jeno #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #lee minhyung #na jaemin #jaemin #haechan #park jisung #zhong chenle #chenle #renjun #huang renjun #nct yandere #superm mark #nct u mark #nct 127 #nct 127 mark #nct 127 haechan #nct fluff #kpop fluff #possessive #obsession

[starshapedkookie]

Falling

↳soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest  level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm. 

REPOSTED/REWRITTEN FROM OLD BLOG

pairing: jungkook x female reader 

word count: 31.4k (sorry guys, another monster lol)

genre: soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: smut (protected sex, vanilla, light choking), swearing, angst!!!, fluff (jungkook is head over heels), drinking, mentions of anti-depressants and therapy

recommended songs: falling by harry styles, love again by dua lipa, hold on by chord overstreet, dusk till dawn by zayn & sia, when we were young by lost kings

FALL

The last thing you needed this morning was for your coffee to get knocked out of your hand and crash onto the pavement—but of course, that is exactly what happened.

“Ugh,” you groan loudly, bending down to pick up the plastic cup. You did not have time for this. It wasn’t even your first day of classes yet here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You quickly dispose of the plastic in a recyclable can before hurrying off to find your class. You were already going to be late—but you knew you didn’t want to be that kid on the first day coming in hungover and 20 minutes late. So far though, that was going to be exactly you.

You rush into the building of your class before rushing up the stairs to the main auditorium. You glance down at your watch and you roll eyes. 7 minutes late—that’s doable right? You enter the large room and you curse to yourself when it’s quiet and the only words are coming from your professors mouth.

“Class I believe we’ve found our first day straggler,” the professor’s voice erupts in the room through his microphone and you freeze in your spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and you actually want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. Laughter fills the room and the professor goes back to the syllabus as you find a seat towards the back of the classroom. You sit down by yourself and lean back in the seat. Not only was your head absolutely busting from last night, you also had never felt more embarrassment in your entire life. You pull out your laptop and pull up the uploaded syllabus and try to hide yourself within your t-shirt.

“As humans, we think attraction is spontaneous and comes from here,” your professor pauses and points to his chest where his heart would be, “When in fact, that’s not true. Our brains run complex calculations that decide whom we think is attractive. This is what this course is about. The psychology behind gender, sex, and even the ideals of soulmates are all very much correlated in this course,” your ears drown out his talking once the ’S’ word is mentioned—no, not sex, but soulmate.

Soulmates—self explanatory but usually not discussed out in the open like this. Some people believed in them, others didn’t. Growing up, you had always heard about soulmates and their stories—your parents managing to bring it up at least once a week. It’s said that one will receive a name by 18. At 13, you and your older sister decided that it was all bogus as you had many crushes on boys growing up. You could like someone but that didn’t mean you were soulmates though. Your sister quickly flipped her stance about soulmates when she was 17, you 15, and suddenly a mark showed up on the inside of her finger. Not just any mark—but a name. With the name engraved in her skin like a tattoo and only a few months after that, she had met her match.

You on the other hand remained nameless for the rest of high school. You waited and waited for a name to show up by the age of 18—but it never did. You felt alone and like a glitch. At 19, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a soulmate. Besides, you were young—since when did you have to find your life partner so soon?

Now at 21, nearing 22, you were still nameless. Did it bother you? You were indifferent. You felt lucky to be able to experience college without being tied down to something serious but now as graduation was coming faster than ever and it seemed like everyone around you was finding their other half—worry did sink into your skin sometimes.

“You,” someone snaps you from your reverie and you think the professor has called you again until you see a two guys sitting two rows back from you, one of them pointing at you.

You point at yourself wondering if he’s got the right girl. As you look around the class, everyone is shuffling around to what seems to be small groups. Had you zoned out that bad? You look back at the two guys and gather your belongings before heading their way.

“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly as you shuffle towards them.

“Told you she’d come,” one guys nudges the other one with a smirk, “Wanna be in our group?”

“Group?” You look back to the front of the classroom and see a slide displayed “FINAL PROJECT” shining bright. “Yeah, sure whatever,” you sit down beside of the chatty male before he finally introduces himself.

“I’m Namjoon,” he smiles.

“Y/N,” you reply looking at the other guy who has stayed silent this whole interaction.

“This is Jungkook,” Namjoon says and Jungkook looks at you offering a weak smile.

“Hey,” he says simply. Jungkook has pretty eyes, round and doe-like, innocent yet inviting. You catch yourself noticing the ink lining his forearms and knuckles.

You take a seat beside of Namjoon and focus your attention back to the board. Your professor explains each group has a variety of topics to choose from and present to him later at the end of the semester. As much as you weren’t in the mood for much talking, you were thankful this Namjoon and Jungkook guy asked you to be in their group because you’re not sure you would have had the courage to ask anyone else.

Lecture ends with an online syllabus quiz due at the end of the week and you quickly gather your things to leave.

“Um,” you start before you get ready to leave, “here's my number. Just text whenever you want to get started,” you slip the piece of paper to Namjoon. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and something stirs deep within your stomach. Namjoon’s voice breaks your gaze.

“Alright, sounds good. Nice to me you.”

“You guys too.” And then you’re off to your next class, hoping you won’t cause as much attention in that one.

.

“Jesus Christ,” you exhale deeply, lying down on Taehyung’s bed. He eyes you from his desk.

“Rough first day?” He inquires, swirling back and forth in his chair.

“You have no idea Tae,” you groan rolling over to look at him. “I should have known this day would be shit the second I slept through my alarm.”

He gives you a small smile, “At least it’s over now. You got much homework?”

You shake your head, “No thank god.”

“Do you want to grab dinner with Jimin and I then?”

Your stomach growls loudly at the idea of food. You don’t even say anything and you don’t need to. Taehyung gives you a laugh before slipping on his ridiculously ugly fur-lined Gucci mules. You stand up from his bed, straightening out your giant t-shirt and running shorts. Yours and Taehyung’s fashion clashed tremendously, but that’s what made you guys—well you.

You and Taehyung meet Jimin at a Thai place downtown. It’s cheap and delicious and a bowl of pad-thai to sooth your brain after today sounded heavenly. Jimin is standing outside, wearing a put together yet sporty outfit. He smiles when he sees the two of you approaching.

“Hey guys!” Jimin smiles widely, leaning over to give you a tight squeeze. He pulls away and gives Taehyung an even bigger hug, the two of them pecking each other on the lips quickly. You watch the two soulmates in awe. As much as you wanted to believe the soulmate thing was bullshit—these two were living proof that it works. And deep down, it hurts.

The three of you order your food and lean back into your chair across from the two lovers as they converse about their day.

“What about you Y/N? Did you have a good first day?” Jimin asks. He’s got to the be the most considerate person you’ve ever met.

“Are you sure you want to hear her spiel?” Taehyung mutters sarcastically and you poke your tongue out at him.

“It was horrible Jimin,” you pout, “First, I slept through my alarm which I never do, was hungover as sit so I needed some coffee and then I got my iced coffee that was five dollars and then dropped it everywhere—“

“Wait, you were running late and still got coffee?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” You say in a duh-like tone. Jimin and Taehyung laugh at your before you continue.

“Then I walked into my first class and the fucking professor had the audacity to call me the first day straggler! How awful is that?!”

“I mean it’s true,” Taehyung grins and you flip him off.

“Not. The. Point,” you offer dramatically, “And then all of a sudden these two guys are calling me over to be in their group for a project and they’re both extremely cute although one talked way too much and one didn’t talk at all—“ “Which one was cuter?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung swats at his arm.

“The quiet one,” you admit, “At least to me. And then after that, I went to my last class and that went smoothly. However it started going downhill again when I went and grabbed lunch and I got a salad from East—“ “Oh no,” Jimin groans, “East dining hall? Y/N you know that place is whack.”

“I know that but I was hungry! And then I ate my salad and then while I was driving back to my apartment I literally almost shit myself.”

The three of you begin to laugh at how ridiculous your day actually was.

“I mean what kind of fucking luck is that?!”

“You’ve definitely had better days for sure…” Taehyung says eying you from across the table, “I mean look at that outfit and hair,” he tsks.

“Hey! Fuck you,” you pick up your straw wrapper and throw it at him across from you. He’s laughing just as your food arrives. It looks and even smells better, the three of you immediately digging in.

The three of you continue small chatter amongst yourselves, Jimin and Taehyunf being too cute and in love for their own good. You are in the middle of slurping your noodles when your nearly choke on your food when a new, but familiar face walks into the restaurant. The Jungkook guy from your class. And he’s not alone as a girl who is extremely pretty trails in behind of him.

“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks and he turns over his shoulder to follow your line of sight. “Who is that cutie?” He then says. Jimin agrees.

“It’s the guy from my class,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t spot you. “The quiet one,” you specify. Jimin smirks before nudging Taehyung.

“You’re right,” Taehyung says looking back at you. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about Jungkook but his name, you dislike the way the random girl is looking at him. It doesn’t settle well in your stomach.

“Guess he has a soulmate,” you say slightly disappointed staring into your food.

Jimin speaks up, “No he doesn’t.”

You and Taehyung furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Are you guys forgetting soulmates is literally what I’m doing my thesis on? I can spot them when I see them,” he says keeping his voice low, “That’s not his soulmate, trust me.”

“…Right,” you hesitate. You glance back towards Jungkook and his date to find that they have been seated elsewhere in the restaurant. You bite your lip, stirring your noodles around, the weird feeling you felt when you first spotted Jungkook still deep rooted in your stomach. You don’t mention Jungkook again the entire night, only sparing glances around the restaurant to get another look at him. You come up short.

.

Your first week back at school is nearly over as Friday approaches faster than ever. Thankfully, unlike your first day shambles, the rest of your week went fairly smooth. You’ve managed to get ahead in most of your classes already and you can’t wait for the afternoon nap you’re gifting yourself later today.

Ever since Monday, you have decided to sit beside Namjoon and Jungkook in your psychology lecture now. They were easy to talk to, albeit Jungkook still quite shy, but being with your final project group was convenient. Speaking of Jungkook—he was no where to be seen today.

“Where’s your friend?” You inquire as you sit beside Namjoon. Normally Jungkook is right beside of him as the two of them always get to class earlier than you.

Namjoon shrugs, “I don’t know, he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning.”

You brush it off as your jackass of a professor begins his lecture. Your first official lecture of the semester is on the basis of the human brain and it’s connection to relationships. You nearly roll your eyes out of your head, how fun. Ten or so minutes go back of you typing up notes trying to keep up with him until rummaging disrupts your thoughts.

You glance to your left and spot Jungkook coming in late, his hair underneath a baseball cap, keeping his eyes down as he makes his way over to you and Namjoon. You inwardly wish the professor would call him out on his tardiness but of course, that doesn’t happen. Maybe your professor is a jackass and a sexist?

“Look who is late today,” You whisper as he sits down beside you. His brown eyes give you a glance before nodding to Namjoon.

“Sorry,” he gives you a soft smile, “Today has not been my day,” he briefly explains.

You raise your eyebrows as him, but decide against questioning him.

“I get it,” you respond.

“Hey! You in back,” your professor is suddenly stopping his lecture and pointing his finger towards you. Oh for fucks sake. “If you’re going to talk in my class, don’t bothering coming as I post the lecture slides online afterwards.”

You feel embarrassment taking over your body as Namjoon to your right is snickering at you and Jungkook on your left is sending you an apologetic stare.

Definitely sexist.

.

The next couple weeks of classes went by in a flash. So far, they were all going well and you liked all your professors—minus Mr. Sexist Jackass for psychology—but other than that, you were having no trouble. You had been able to meet other people and get into study group chats which you knew would help in the next few weeks as your first midterm was quickly approaching.

If there was one thing you were slacking on though, it was your group project for said psychology class. Which is why you texted Namjoon and Jungkook to meet at a coffee place on campus to discuss getting started and what roles you all would take.

“Hey,” Jungkook is the first to arrive and you give him a sweet smile. Within the past two weeks, he had become more open to talking to you and you sensed a blossoming friendship between you and him.

“Hi, how are you?” You ask him as you move your stuff out of the way so he could sit down. He sits across from you, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m alright,” he says with not much energy taking a gulp from whatever drink he was sipping on. It looked to be an iced americano. “You?”

“Pretty good, although I’m already stressed about exams coming up,” you let your worries slip from you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I haven’t thought about exams yet,” he says honestly.

You give him a hard stare before saying, “What even is your major? I know Namjoon is pre-med but I don’t think you’ve told me.”

He swallows the rest of his drink, “Sports medicine,” he responds with a straight smile.

“Hm,” you say, “So do you dress up as Sporty Spice for Halloween then?”

He lets out a laugh before nodding, “Yeah, every year.”

You laugh with him and you can’t help but notice how great his smile is. He really is attractive, you can’t deny that.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” You groan after your laughter dies out, looking down at your watch.

“Here!” You jump in your seat as Namjoon comes up behind you and you nearly fall out of your seat. Namjoon apologizes quickly about being late before scooting to sit beside you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “So, when do you guys want to start working on our project? I would hate for us to procrastinate and have to cram at the end of the semester.”

Namjoon nods, “I was thinking the same. We need to choose a topic first though… got any ideas?” He takes out a pen and notepad to scribble stuff down. You could tell Namjoon was just as studious as you were… Jungkook on the other hand was definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of student—not necessarily a bad thing though.

“Kook, any ideas?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook shrugs before throwing out there—

“Sex,” He says and you snicker at his suggestion. “What? That’s all the professor talks about, might as well give him something he’s interested in…” Jungkook retaliates.

You glance at Namjoon and he rolls his eyes.

“I get what you’re saying Kook but I think we should be more specific than that,” Namjoon deadpans and you nod agreeing with him. “Y/N?”

“Mmmm,” you hum, “Maybe we could do research on how sex differs between different people?”

Namjoon nods slowly, looking over at Jungkook quickly, “What if looked at how sex affects the body when it comes to soulmates?”

You throat goes dry at Namjoon’s suggestion and you have to compose yourself so you won’t give yourself away. You look over at Jungkook who looks just as uncomfortable as you do and it makes you furrow your eyebrows. Maybe Jimin’s sixth sense was right?

“I mean is there even research for that?” You look at him, your question somewhat patronizing.

“Oh yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “There’s lots of research on how the body responds when people are intimate with people that aren’t their soulmates.”

You glance at Jungkook again whose eyes are dancing around the room and you’re not even sure he’s tuned into the conversation anymore.

“What do you think Jungkook?” You ask him.

“Sure,” he says, “Whatever will get us the grade.”

“Alright then, let’s meet up again next week after we each do some research,” Namjoon smiles before gathering his things up, “I hate to bounce like this but my tutoring shift starts in ten minutes and those freshman are so gullible I can make twice as much money off of them,” he says before waving you two off, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

“Does he really scam freshman?” You ask, somewhat horrified at his statement. Jungkook lets out a laugh, visibly a lot more comfortable now that the previous conversation has passed.

“Only when then they’re dumb enough,” he responds before he begins to gather his things too, “See in you class?”

You nod once, noticing what seems to be a silver Rolex covering his left wrist. Who the hell has a Rolex in college?

“See you in class.”

. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in?” Jimin smiles at you from behind the bar. Yeah—not only was Jimin currently getting his master’s in psychology, he also bartended on the weekends at one of your local bars.

You give him a smile as Taehyung isn’t far behind you, putting his head on your shoulder to look up at the menu.

“Hi babe,” Jimin smiles and Taehyung returns one, wrapping his arms around your front.

“Hi,” he smiles, visibly much more drunk than you were. “I’m pretending she’s you so don’t get jealous okay?” He slurs.

“Hey!” You fight back looking at Taehyung, “Crazy how people change after you ‘fall in love’,” you air quote yourself with sarcasm.

Taehyung laughs in your ear, “You should try it sometime babe,” under normal circumstances, you would have felt very offended at his remark because he knows your situation but with alcohol running through your veins—you let it slide.

“Can I have two green tea shots?” You ask Jimin and he nods quickly.

“Make it four,” Taehyung orders and Jimin laughs before nodding, heading off to make your shots.

Taehyung finally lets go of your middle and you both settle to lean on the bar whilst your drinks are being made.

“How was your week babe?” Taehyung asks, “Better I presume? You look hot so I’m assuming all is well?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

You gives him a smile, glancing down at your outfit. Your mini-wrap skirt and skin tight tank top was as basic as it could get, but it made you look and feel good about yourself.

“Good as it gets Tae,” you say flinging your hair behind your shoulder. On a scale 1 to 10 of drunkeness, you were probably a good 5 but you knew once Jimin was finished with your shots, you would be closer to a 7 or 8.

“I know I’m going to sound fucking crazy right now but it’s kind of just registering what I said to you about falling in love and I did not mean it like that—“ “Taehyung it’s fine,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No,” he shakes his head, “It’s not… I’m sorry I’m just really drunk right now,” he groans almost painfully.

“I know,” you smile at him before noticing Jimin has come back with your shots. “And you’re about to be even more drunk so whatever you say, apologize for it now.”

He looks up at the ceiling closing his eyes, “I’m sorry to whoever for the dumb shit I will say the rest of the evening, amen.”

“He’s religious now?” Jimin asks scooting the glasses over to you two.

“Apparently,” you eye him before taking a glass for you and handing one to Taehyung.

“To… senior year!” Taehyung says loudly over the music and you nod, clinking your glasses together.

“To senior year!” You say before downing the shot in its entirety. “Oh my god Jimin,” you groan, “I will never forgive you for getting me on these.”

“What can I say? If you’re gonna drink might as well enjoy it,” is the last thing he says before checking on another customer beside you and Taehyung.

“Oh god,” Taehyung says after downing his shot, looking over your shoulder.

“What?” You ask him, getting ready to down your second one.

“It’s the quiet one, the cute one,” Taehyung’s words confuse you until you begin to piece them together. Quiet… cute… Jungkook.

You take a glance over your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Jungkook looking right back at you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you do the same. He looks really good—blue jeans a t-shirt with his lovely ink being show. What intrigues you the most though is a 35mm camera hanging around his neck. You don’t recognize any of the people he is with before you turn back around, feeling your cheeks heat up even though no one could see it.

“Jungkook,” you say to Taehyung, “That’s his name.”

As much as you wished Taehyung would stop staring in his direction, you knew he was drunk and fighting him on it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Well, I think Jungkook,” Taehyung grabs his second shot, “Is hot as fuck and you should totally make a move,” Taehyung finally looks back at you and downs his liquor without waiting on you. You follow suit, the shot slivering down your throat.

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think he’s into me, plus I don’t even know if he has a partner or not.”

“You heard what Jimin said a couple weeks ago,” he retorts.

“How does Jimin know he’s right? I mean it’s not like we as humans have a fucking ‘yeah I have a soulmate’ scent to us like were goddamn dogs or something. I mean as much as I would totally make a move on him, I just don’t think I can do—“

“Uh, Y/N,” Taehyung nudges you from your rant.

“What?” You return harshly. A small smirk rises on his face before he points beside of you. You look to your left and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook coming up behind of you.

“J-Jungkook,” you manage to get out, “Hi.”

He approaches you and Taehyung with a warm smile, “Hey Y/N.” His eyes move to Taehyung and you clear your throat to introduce them.

“Jungkook this is Taehyung, Taehyung… Jungkook,” you smile between the two handsome men.

“Nice you to meet you,” Taehyung smiles widely and Jungkook nods.

“What are you doing out tonight?” You ask Jungkook and he steps closer to you as someone pushes past him.

“Trying to relieve some stress,” he answers with a laugh, “Can I get you a drink?” He scratches the back of his head, glancing over at Taehyung again.

“Oh, are you sure?” You ask him before he nods again. You give him a smile, “Alright, whatever you’re having I’ll have.”

“Jimin!” You yell over the music to get his attention. He stops drying a glass and immediately comes to you, his eyes falling on the companion behind of you.

“Can I get two Michelob's?” Jungkook says and you can feel his chest pressing into your back as the overwhelming amount of people pushing and pulling in the bar.

Jimin nods before quickly going into the cooler, popping the tops from the bottle and sliding them over to you.

“Thanks,” you both say grabbing them.

“Thank you,” you turn around to Jungkook and in this position, you underestimated how close you actually are to him. Chest to chest and his head towers over as he looks down at you with a smile.

“No problem,” he says, “Do you wanna go outside? Get some air and more space?”

It’s like he read your mind. “Yeah, sure.”

You tap Taehyung on the shoulder to get his attention from Jimin.

“I’m going outside, I’ll text you if I can’t find you again.”

He nods slowly, “I’ll be right here babe,” he sends you a wink before turning back around.

Jungkook’s eyes lay on Taehyung’s back a little longer than you would like. What’s he thinking right now? Without any warning, Jungkook grabs your hand gently and starts pulling you away from the crowded bar. You aren’t exactly sober right now and you can only hope that your hand isn’t sweating as much as you think it is. Jungkook leads you out to the deck that’s also crowded and loud, but leaves a lot more room to breathe.

You lean against the railing and Jungkook does the same across from you, just mere inches separating the two of you.

“Are you here with just Taehyung?” He asks you taking a sip of his beer. You follow suit. Thank god he ordered Michelob—a man with taste.

You nod, “Yeah… he wanted to go out more than I did but, here we are,” you try to make a joke at your drunkeness but fail miserably. Jungkook gives you a short lived smile.

“So… are you two like, together?” Jungkook says his words slowly, not wanting to say or imply the wrong thing. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head after he asks his question.

You start to laugh, having to cover your mouth so you don’t cackle loud enough to draw attention. Jungkook looks confused before you say—

“Taehyung’s gay,” you explain after your laughter dies down, “His partner is the bartender Jimin.”

Jungkook’s face falls and his doe eyes bulge out of his head. “Holy shit I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—“

“Jungkook it’s fine,” you wave him off, “You’re not the first person to ever ask if Tae and I are a thing. As much as I wish the universe was that nice to me to give me a man like Taehyung but no,” you smile although deep down it does hurt. You grew up with Taehyung hoping he would be your soulmate and when Jimin’s name appeared on the inside of his pinky, that dream bursted real fast.

“What about you?” You ask him. Now’s your chance. It’s got to be the alcohol that’s making this conversation easy as cake because normally, talk of this nature would not be spoken in public with this many people around.

Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. He starts to shake his head, “No I just got out of a relationship.”

“Oh,” your face falls. So was he with a girlfriend at dinner a few weeks back?

“Yeah I guess the universe hates me too,” he says nonchalantly and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. So he didn’t have a soulmate? Nor did you? What were the odds?

“I hate to sound weird or creepy but,” you pause, unsure if you wanted to ask but internally you say fuck it. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the Thai place downtown with a girl, so that’s why I asked.”

Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read as he gulps his beer. You’re not sure he’s that drunk but if he is, he’s great at hiding it.

“Yeah… that was her,” he nods, “But like I said the universe is cruel and decide to give her a name after a couple months of dating,” he scoffs and almost seems angry—which I guess he has a right to be.

“Oh shit,” you mumble, “I’m sorry,” you offer.

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, what can I do about it now you know?”

You nod slowly, “Look forward to the future? Who knows what might happen.”

“You’re right,” he smiles tenderly, “To the future?” He raises his bottle.

“To the future,” you smile clinking the glass together.

“So who are you here with?” You ask him.

“Just my roommates, Yugyeom and Mingyu,” he explains while licking his lips and your heart skips a beat again.

“You don’t strike me as the type that gets out much you know,” you push a finger into his chest, narrowing your eyesight. 1 to 10 on the drunk scale? An 8 or 9 at the moment.

“Why’s that?” He amuses.

“Jeon, you barely spoke to me the first two weeks of class. I thought you were fucking mute.”

He suddenly steps closer to you and it forces you to drop your finger.

“I’m shy okay?” He says with a pout. “I’m good now though? Right?” You swear his eyes are like a damn puppy dog looking at you like that. Your throat goes dry before you nod.

“For the most part I guess,” you offer weakly batting your eyelashes at him. You glance down his body quickly and notice the way his light blue jeans hug his tiny waist and thick thighs deliciously. Jesus fucking Christ.

“What this all about?” you point to his camera that’s dangling between his pecs. You needed to get your mind back to PG and fast.

He smiles lightly, “My hobby,” he says simply, “I like to take pictures for memories sake.”

“Memories sake,” you repeat, “So do you take it with you everywhere then?”

“Only if I think something interesting might happen that needs to be captured,” he shrugs. God he was so attractive and the longer you stared at him, the faster you were falling down a hole.

“What have you captured tonight then?”

“Nothing much really,” he glances down your front quickly and he thinks you don’t notice until you smirk at him.

“Take a picture of me,” you tilt your head with a smile, “I’m a treasure that should be captured, don’t ya think?” the alcohol was getting to you bad. When Jungkook laughs at you, you swear you saw two faces and you knew you needed to sober the fuck up.

“Alright, fine,” he says, stepping away from you to adjust his lens for the lighting. You lean onto the railing with you elbow, giving him a smile when you look towards his camera. He snaps the picture twice and the flash momentarily blinds you. He looks back at his view finder and you step to him to see it.

“See, a treasure,” you say.

He nods slowly before looking down at you, “Definitely.”

You feel yourself stepping closer to him, leaning up to get a full view of his face. You bite your lip as he leans down, your noses brushing together before you step back.

“Wait… so you don’t have a soulmate?” You keep your voice low and hesitant.

He shakes his head, “No,” he says, “See.” He shows his wrists and in between his fingers and nothing. You do the same for him, moving your bracelets and watch back. He gives you a small smirk before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. You inhale his clean scent as you push up on your toes to deepen the kiss. With your hand that isn’t occupied you bring it to the side of his face to caress his skin. His lips are so fucking soft and you whine as he pulls away.

“I would ask you to go home with me but I think you’re too drunk,” he says honestly and you furrow your eyebrows at him with a sad pout.

“Hey I’m fine,” you defend yourself.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says, “I’m pretty far from that.”

His words are sweet and considerate and you’re not sure any guy you have met that would be in this position to not jump straight into your pants. As much as you wouldn’t mind Jungkook to do that—you could see where he was coming from. Besides, you were really drunk and really tired so you probably wouldn’t even get off which would defeat the purpose of getting laid.

“Jungkook I know, I can see that,” you tell him before you bite your lip again, “But I am a great cuddlier if that has any weight?”

A large smile falls on his lips and his nose scrunches up from giggling. “Alright, you’re the big spoon though,” he deadpans.

You roll your eyes, “We’ll see about that.” Jungkook smirks before grabbing your hand for both of you to close out your tabs and head to his place.

.

You wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar, but quite comfortable bed. You blink your eyes slowly to let light in and you stretch your feet our from your fetal position. Once your vision focuses you see that you’re alone underneath a grey duvet and you nearly freak out until you quickly remember your previous evening.

You had got to Jungkook’s place around 12:30 AM and aside from light making out, nothing extreme happened between you two as Jungkook insisted on being sober before going there. He obviously lost the argument about who was going to be the big and little spoon as you both fell asleep comfortably with his arms around your front. Speaking of—where was he?

You push the covers from your body and see you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt, your clothes neatly folded on his dresser. You memory is slightly fuzzy, unsure if you changed your clothes yourself or if Jungkook dressed you. Heat rushes to you face at the thought. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t seemed desperate but when you were drunk—that tended to happen. Although not as much anymore as random hookups slowed down the older you got as most people were linking up with their destined lovers.

Fuck—you think, you had nearly forgotten perhaps the biggest detail of last night. Jungkook didn’t have a soulmate. The thought made you giddy on the inside. Maybe he was just as fucked up as you were.

You’re about to leave Jungkook’s room until he suddenly appears in the doorway.

“Oh, hey I was just coming to see if you were up,” he gives you a soft smile and you have to scramble your eyes away from his heavily built chest and torso. You find that he has tattoos all the way up his knuckles to his shoulder. Fuck.

“I just woke up,” you mumble stepping towards the door.

“I made some breakfast,” he says reaching towards your hand gently, “I have some medicine too if you’re hungover.”

You smile at him as he pulls you to him to walk you down the short hallway to his kitchen. It smelt of bacon, eggs, and toast—just what you needed.

“Thanks,” you say gratefully as you take a seat on one of his barstools. He slides a plate over to you as well as a bottle of Advil. “You already ate?” You ask him as you begin to dive into the food that will surely settle your rumbling stomach.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “I woke up awhile ago and went for a run so I had to eat.”

You swat your hand not caring, “It’s fine—wait, what time is it?” Your eyes bulge.

He looks at his silver watch, “Almost noon,” he says, his eyes not looking at tired as he probably is.

“Noon?!” You say with a mouthful of bread, “What the hell I never this sleep this late…” you say after swallowing.

“You drank a lot last night Y/N,” he laughs at you and you give him your middle finger. He rests on his hands across from you in the kitchen and you can’t help but notice the veins in his arms. Was the universe really being this good to you? After all this time, giving you access to someone who is this fine and who doesn’t have a partner? You almost couldn’t believe it.

“Sorry if I was annoying, or needy, or anything like that,” you say somewhat embarrassed that Jungkook had to deal with you even though neither of you know each other that well.

His eyes soften, “It’s fine. You were funny.”  

You’ve devoured your plate of food and you hop down from the barstool to clean your plate. Since he cooked, the least you could was put away your mess.

“Oh I’m hilarious,” you give him a snide look before you bump him with your hip to scoot him over so you can wash your plate. He obliges whilst watching your every move. Jungkook seeing you in one of his favorite t-shirts is driving him delirious.

“But seriously though,” your voice cuts his inappropriate train of thought, “If I said anything incriminating, don’t tell anyone,” you give him a side look as you dry your plate. Jungkook laughs before a smirk appears on his face.

“I quite enjoyed your rambling,” he steps closer to you as you turn to look up at him. “It was very… what’s the word… suggestive,” he looks off as if he’s running deep thoughts.

You roll your eyes—yup, definitely horny and needy words were said. Feeling somewhat brave—maybe it was because you weren’t really hungover and the fact that Jungkook is standing there like that in front of you—you step towards him so your chests are touching.

“Maybe you should remind me what I said one day then?” You whisper only so he can hear. He chuckles through his nose before placing one of his hands on your back to pull you flush against him.

“Why not right now?” He says, his nose dipping to touch yours. His eyes are soft but carry a darkness to them you can’t quite read. You give him a small nod before you move your head to place your lips on his. Your mouths mold together like putty slowly before he slips his tongue into your mouth to tease you.  

You pull away quickly, “Wait, don’t you have roommates?” You whisper again looking around the quiet apartment. You noticed how clean it was to be housed by 3 men in their early twenties.

“They’re asleep,” he says, caressing your lower back, his hand begging to go to your ass but he restrains himself. “So you’ll have to be quiet, unlike last night,” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Challenge accepted,” you grab his face to pull him back down to you to connect your lips once more.

His hands grapple your waist desperately to pull you flush against him. He smells like laundry and cotton, the scent driving you mad. As Jungkook realizes that the two of you are still in his kitchen and Yugyeom or Mingyu could easily come out of their rooms any moment, he pulls away from you and you follow him back into his room. He wastes no time shutting his door and pushing you against it.

You felt yourself growing dizzier by the second as he continued to kiss you with a gentle force that you’ve never experienced before. He was probably the best kisser you’ve ever kissed.  You could tell he wanted to touch you and you wanted him to touch you so you began to trace your hands up his sculpted back and pushing your hips out towards him.

Jungkook now having your permission, one of his hands trail up your thigh to push his t-shirt away from your backside, his large hand massaging the skin carefully and calculated. Suddenly you found his lips on your neck as he pushes your body further into his door.

“Jungkook,” you groaned quietly as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He pulls your thigh up against his leg and you nearly let out a moan when you feel his hardening cock press into your center.

“Fuck,” you breathe out as you let out an experimental roll of your hips against his. Jungkook pulls back with a short chuckle before kissing your lips gently again.

“Quiet,” he laughs again and you push his chest away from yours to get him to sit on the edge of his bed. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his tiny waist and thick thighs. You continued to kiss like no tomorrow before you placed your palm over his center.

“Shit,” he groans into your mouth as you palm him slowly and torturously. “Y/N, wait, are you sure?”  

You pull your hand back and stare down at him with hazy eyes. You nod frantically, “Yes, are you?”

“God yes,” he breathes out and in one smooth motion, he flips you two over with him standing in between your legs. He begins to take his shirt from your body and you happily help him and his eyes immediately go to your breasts, your nipples taut for him.

He kisses you again before kissing down your neck and then down over your boobs, his tongue swirling and his teeth nipping at all the right places. Jungkook finds himself on his knees, right in front of where you need each other most. He spreads your legs a little more before he goes right in to kiss your center over your underwear. Your head falls back as you rest on your hands watching him bite his lip in excitement. You’d never had a guy go down on your the first hookup—you thought you could be in love right now.

His brown eyes glance at you briefly before you nod for him to make sure what he was going was okay. He fingers pull at your underwear and you lift your hips to help him drag the material down your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls your towards him, his mouth going straight to work on you.

You shut your eyes at the feeling unable to keep them open as he laps up and down your slit. He kisses you with hunger and when he finds your clit, the moan that escapes your mouth is loud and embarrassing.

“Oh god, Jungkook,” he smirks against your pussy before continuing to lap at your sensitive bud, his fingers now teasing your entrance.

He slips in one finger, pumping it slowly before entering a second—stretching you just how you need. You fall back on your elbows and your toes curl when you feel an orgasm close approaching.

“Fuck, fuck,” your hips raise as he focuses on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face. He can tell you’re about to come and he’d be damned if he didn’t bring you there. Two more kitten licks send you over the edge and you climax hard having to bite your lip so you don’t make much noise.

Jungkook licks his lips as he comes back to you to kiss you. You welcome him with open arms and you pull him on top of you. You needed him now and the issue in his pants showed he wanted you just as much. You help him push down his sweats and boxers and when you first get sight of his dick, your mouth nearly drops. Okay—the universe was definitely helping you out right now.

You reach down between you, wrapping your hands around his girth to fully harden him. He sucks in a deep breath when you pull and tug at his sensitive skin. You take his pre cum on your thumb and rub it around to make the slip easier. His forehead falls against your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off. His breathing increases as each pull comes from your hand and he’ quickly pushing your hand away.

“I wanna be inside you baby,” he says and it sends a shockwave through your core.

Jungkook finds a condom from his side table and rolls it on quickly. He positions himself between you, his nose brushing against yours as he pecks your lips.

“Ready?” He asks you as he guides his tip into you. Both of your mouths fall agape, a small whine coming from Jungkook’s throat as he pushes deeper into you. “Fuck—Y/N, you’re so tight.”

You lift your hips to help him get as deep as possible and when he bottoms out, you’re unsure if you’ve ever felt this full your entire life. His forehead falls against your shoulder once more and he kisses your exposed skin gently as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.

He feels more than amazing and your whole body feels on fire.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out as you wrap your legs around his back, “Faster, please.” You don’t care about sounding desperate.

He sits up on his elbows and obeys, snapping his hips against you harder and quicker. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingertips pulling at his hair and neither of you can be quiet now.

“Shit,” he marvels at the way he disappears inside of you, your cunt squeezing around him so he won’t leave.

“Jungkook—ah,” he hits your deepest spot in you and he sticks his thumb in your mouth to bite down on to shut you up. His other fingers grip the side of your neck and you feel like you could pass out from his ministrations.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he whispers in your ear and you nod pulling his face down to you, snapping your hips to meet up with his. You found yourself clenching around his cock as Jungkook’s breaths get shakier and shakier. “Fuck Y/N.”

“Don’t stop,” you managed to get out as he hammered you into his mattress, hitting your g-spot perfectly—another orgasm quickly coming into your system. Jungkook’s face was contorted and tortured as he chased his high deep inside of you. “Come on Jungkook,” you whisper beside his ear and he lifts his head up, crashing his lips onto yours.

Between your desperate attempts to be quiet and Jungkook’s relentless pace, you come again around his cock fast and hard, pulsating around him in spurts.

“Ah—fuck,” Jungkook’s hips ram into yours deeply as he finally finds his release. He collapses on top of your frame, his elbows the only thing holding him up. He pulls himself out of you a moment later, but he doesn’t move his body from above you.

Both of you are breathing heavy, it being the only sound radiating in the room. You caress  the right side of his face, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. He leans into your touch with a small smile before kissing your wrist gently. He then rolls his body from yours, discarding of his condom quickly.

You both turn to each other as Jungkook throws an arm lazily around your waist.

“Are you even real?” His deep voice suddenly says with his eyes closed. You give him a sheepish smile as he opens his eyes.

“The universe is fucking funny huh?” You say and Jungkook laughs deep within his chest.

“Very funny,” he mumbles before watching your face intently.

“Now what?” You ask obliviously. Sure, you had your hookups on and off before but with Jungkook—something felt different—in a good way. Like he wasn’t supposed to be a hookup—but something more.

He shrugs, “Whatever you wanna be.”

You bite your lip hesitating before saying, “I know you just got out of a relationship so I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything.”

“It’s fine Y/N,” he gives you a small smile, “I’m fine with whatever you’re fine with. As long as you don’t break my heart.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully, “You mean as long as you don’t break my heart.”

He smirks, “Deal.”

.

You meet with Namjoon and Jungkook the following week to begin working on your project. You three decided on meeting in the library after all of your classes were over for the day to keep it convenient. You and Jungkook finished around the same time and ended up grabbing some food before heading out to the library. It had not been that long since you and Jungkook hooked up and you two began to text and Snapchat each other everyday. Your friendship with Jungkook hadn’t changed in any way as you two didn’t officially have a label yet, but now one look at him sent you weak to the knees.  

“You guys seriously couldn’t wait for me to get food?!” Namjoon shows up on the second floor of the library around 6:25 PM. You and Jungkook laugh at him as he sits down. He looks exhausted.

“Rough day?” You ask him as he sits down from across from you and Jungkook.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Have you ever amputated a finger before?”

You and Jungkook give each other an odd glance before scrunching your nose, “No, what the fuck?” Jungkook mutters.

Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Well how about 4 fingers? That was my day summed up and I still think I’m queasy,” he shakes his head slowly.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Joon, don’t you wanna be a doctor?”

“Family medicine, not surgery or anything gross like that,” he explains and that makes much more sense—though I’m sure Namjoon knows medical school has a lot more than family medicine waiting for him.

“Gotcha,” you pull up the documents you have saved for your research on your computer. Under the table, Jungkook nudges your knee with his and you have to fight the urge to smile.

Namjoon watches, the two of you oblivious.

“You look happy,” he says. Jungkook looks up from his phone and you from your screen.

“Who?” You and Jungkook same at the same time.

Namjoon narrows his eyes, “Both of you… strange,” he licks his lips pondering on his words.

You glance at Jungkook before turning back to your screen, not wanting to be caught in his stare.

“Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?” Jungkook laughs sarcastically.

You bite your lip trying to suppress your smile. Sure, you and Jungkook had hooked up once or twice now and you two were slowly getting to know each other more everyday—but you swore the butterflies in your stomach told you something was special about him.

“I mean, you’re just always so quiet… and—hey why are you laughing?” Namjoon looks at you with a serious expression.

“I’m not laughing,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah Y/N, quit laughing,” Jungkook says, nudging your leg under the table again.

“God I’m gonna get queasy again,” Namjoon’s face contorts, his eyes darting between the two of you, “Since when do you two flirt with each other? In front of me?”

Once again, you keep your eyes away from Jungkook, “We’re not flirting,” you say monotonously.

Namjoon looks at Jungkook since you refuse to meet anyone’s gaze. Namjoon raises his  eyebrows at his friend curiously, an unspoken language going between them. Jungkook smirks before giving you one last glance before he says—

“Y/N and I hooked up.”

Your eyes widen instantly at Jungkook’s words and you whip your head to turn towards him.

“Jungkook what the fuck! I thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone!” Your words give away to Namjoon that Jungkook wasn’t bluffing.

Jungkook’s eyes soften looking at you, “Come on, his crazy ass was onto us anyways,” he motions towards Namjoon.

“Yeah, uh huh. I knew something was off when Jungkook’s ears kept going red every time he looked at you,” Namjoon slowly starts to smile, “How disgusting is that.”

You flip him off, “Well, don’t tell anyone.”  

“So,” Namjoon pauses, “You guys aren’t…?” He trails his question off and both of you know what he wants to say. Soulmates.

Slowly, you both shake your head. Namjoon is slightly confused himself. Normally by 18 years old people have their other half assigned to them—him included. His partner’s name appeared on the inside of his palm when he was 15. But you and Jungkook were almost 22?

“Do you guys have one? That you just haven’t met yet?” Namjoon keeps his question low.

Again, you both shake your heads. Wow, Namjoon thinks. An idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Wait so—I have an idea,” Namjoon’s eyes light up.

“Oh god,” Jungkook mumbles.

“So if you guys don’t have partners and you two keep… doing it,” he pauses with a laugh, “Couldn’t we use your experience in our project?”

It takes a few moments for Namjoon’s words to register as your mouth falls agape. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure if he heard Namjoon correctly.

“Hyung, didn’t you just hear her say not to tell anyone?” Jungkook deadpans.

“I mean we don’t have to specify names,” Namjoon quickly elaborates, “I mean you guys did some research right? You’ve read all the horrible stuff that happens to people who go against nature.”

Yeah, you did read about that stuff and it absolutely terrified you. But even after hooking up with Jungkook and other suitors in your life—nothing bad had happened to you, so if anything, this research exists to only frighten people.

“Namjoon, I get what you’re saying but—I don’t know, we might not even hook up again,” you laugh waving your hand off.

“Wait, why not?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly goes to a higher pitch, his eyes looking at you quickly. Namjoon chuckles at the exchange. Namjoon had known Jungkook a long time and he’s never seen him want this much validation from a female—ever.

“I mean,” you pause looking at the dark haired boy beside you, “I didn’t know if—“

“Yeah yeah, work out this shit later,” Namjoon interrupts, “But I don’t know, just something to keep in mind over the rest of the semester.”

With that, the conversation ended and the three of you managed to begin typing up your report. Occasionally, you would bump Jungkook’s knee here and there just to see his reaction. He would smile although not sparing a glance at you. By the end of your study session, all three of you got a good start on the project and Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh the whole night and you knew it didn’t belong anywhere else.

.

Weeks later, yours and Jungkook’s relationship became slightly more complicated. While you two managed to stay cordial in class and hide whatever the hell was going on between you two—once you two were alone, all bets were fucking off. Jungkook would come to your place or you would go to his when his roommates were out and he would fuck you into the mattress until you were nearly screaming. It was good—he was good—and quickly you felt yourself starting to catch feelings for him. You knew that was dangerous territory considering a name might pop up on your body any day, so as hard as it was, you repressed your feelings for him. You were unsure of how Jungkook felt. As better as he was at talking now and he did trust you, he wasn’t one for deep talk unless he had a few glasses of wine in his system. You were fine with that though, knowing it was probably for the better.

You had thought everything was going good—Jungkook, classes, exams, your project, keeping up with Taehyung and Jimin—until it all came crashing down one afternoon at your apartment.

It was a Friday afternoon and you had invited Jungkook over to… well… get your brains fucked out. You like to think you are a smart girl but today, you were being a grade ass dumbass because you had completely forgotten about your lunch date with Taehyung and Jimin.

Normally, Taehyung wouldn’t have cared if you had missed one day with him but as your best friend of years and years—he noticed something had been off with you lately. Slightly more… flakey than normal. Jimin noticed it too. So when Taehyung found himself outside of your apartment that Friday afternoon, what he saw—shook him to his core.

You and Jungkook had just gotten out of the shower after going at it like bunnies for a good hour. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, placing his lips around yours and down your neck, leaving barely there marks behind of your ears.

“Jungkook—stop,” you push his bare chest away as you heard someone knocking on your door. He gives you a shit-eating grin, staying back in the hallway as you go to the door, holding the towel up around your body tight.

You open the door and your face fell instantly. Fuck.

“Taehyung? Jimin?” Your voice shakes, “W-what are you doing here?”

Without any warning Taehyung and Jimin step into your apartment and you begin to panic.

“What the hell Y/N, you’ve bailed on us without explanation three times now!” Taehyung says dramatically, “I mean damn I know Jimin and I are disgusting sometimes but the least you can do is give a heads—what’s that?” Taehyung’s eyes land on your neck and you step away from him, holding your towel closer to you.

“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I’m s-sorry I forgot about lunch, I’ve been really busy lately,” your excuse is lame, but you have nothing else.

“Busy?” Taehyung says eyeing you up and down, “I can see that.”

“Y/N hey where is—“ your eyes roll into the back of your head as Jungkook enters your living room at just the wrong time. No, he didn’t know it was Taehyung and Jimin, but it still doesn’t make you happy. Especially since he’s just wearing sweatpants, his hair wet like yours, compromising your secret.

“Whoa,” Jimin suddenly laughs looking at the scene. “This the quiet one?” He points over at Jungkook. Jungkook pouts—what are they talking about?—he thinks to himself.

“Holy shit Y/N what are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t seem as enthusiastic. He looks over at Jungkook and you swear you see Taehyung salivate inside his mouth, “I mean I get why you’re doing it but, c’mon isn’t this risky?”

“I know you’re probably confused,” you bite your lip nervously. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”

“Yeah no shit,” he genuinely seems angry, an emotion not common to him. “We’re best friends Y/N.”

“Tae, c’mon it’s really none of our business,” Jimin steps in trying to help you out.

“It is too my business when he could potentially hurt her,” Taehyung crosses his arms. Jungkook seems taken aback by his comment and he steps towards you from behind.

“I mean I like her,” Jungkook’s voice quickly speaks up, startling you from behind. You turn your body to look at him, his eyes meeting yours.

“You do?” Your voice comes out in a squeak, a smile spreading on your face like a wildfire.

“You do?” Taehyung asks this time, looking between you two. He looks at his partner Jimin who specializes in this stuff. Jimin nods at Taehyung for reassurance.

“Yeah, a lot actually,” Jungkook steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his chest. You try to hide your embarrassingly huge smile.

Taehyung’s body visibly falters, his eyes going back to his usual soft gaze. Taehyung knew you deserved happiness and if Jungkook made you happy—who was he to stop that?

“I’m sorry again for keeping this from you, it’s just we didn’t want…”

“No I get it,” he nods, “But don’t do that shit again,” he gives you a smile. As warm as Jungkook’s embrace is, you step away and give yourself to Taehyung’s arms.

“You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest.

“Bitch, I know,” his chest rumbles against yours. Jungkook watches you and Taehyung embrace, his heart swelling. Goddamn—maybe he is in a little too deep. At this point, he doesn’t care though. If anything, he wants to make you happy and he’d be damned to let the universe stop that.

.

It was officially Halloween. Nearly three months after you and Jungkook first crossed paths and met, the two of you were also “official”. Neither of you can recall the exact date it happened, but it was not long after Taehyung and Jimin busted you two. You and Jungkook had decided to not tell that many people outside of your inner circle—neither of you wanting to deal with the glares and questions. You didn’t have a name attached on your body and he didn’t either, so what were you guys doing wrong? Nothing. He was yours and you were his and you haven’t been this happy in a long time.

Jungkook, though his Virgo nature being quite selfish sometimes, was always sweet, caring, checking in on you, surprising you with flowers, genuine, and opened up some of his deepest fears to you. You had been on cloud nine for months all because of him. You had probably thanked Namjoon at least six different occasions for dragging you over to meet them way back when. Namjoon was happy for you two—though being as quizzical as he was—he had his concerns, though he never outright voiced them.

Jimin being how he was, had his concerns too. Everyone around you and Jungkook saw how you two were infatuated around each other. Jimin had never seen two people who weren’t soulmates have the connection you two had. It worried him for many reasons, which is why he’s voicing them to Taehyung right now.

“Babe, I don’t know,” Jimin says as him and Taehyung somehow got on the topic of you and Jungkook. “Don’t you think they’re moving really fast?” He questions.

Taehyung looks at his partner, a confused expression crossing his features, “Why do you say that? As long as Y/N is happy, I don’t really care who dicks her down at night, soulmate or not.”

Jimin lets out a laugh before shaking his head, “I mean, in all my case studies I’ve never seen two people like that.”

Taehyung deadpans his boyfriend, “Jimin, you of all people should know that’s not true.”

Jimin nods, immediately understanding where he is coming from. “I know. I’m just worried one of them will get hurt. A name is destined to show up on them eventually.”

Taehyung grinds his teeth, “Y/N has never been one to feed into that stuff so I’m not sure she would care anyways.”

“But she should Tae,” Jimin says, “Jungkook too. I mean there’s serious repercussions to messing with nature.”

“Well they’re fine now, aren’t they?” by Taehyung’s response—Jimin isn’t even sure if he full listening to him. Taehyung being good with numbers and business, he doesn’t fully grasp the concepts of soulmates like Jimin does. For Jimin—it’s his studies, his passion, his life.

“Yeah but—“ Jimin gets cut off by a harsh knock on his apartment door.

“They’re here,” Taehyung smiles walking over to get the door, “Don’t say anything sketch okay?” he warns Jimin as he opens the door.

You nearly fall on your ass as Taehyung opens the door. Jungkook pulls you back with a laugh as you walk into Jimin’s apartment.

“Tae! Chim!” You smile widely, throwing your arms around Taehyung’s neck tightly. You stumble in your heels and Taehyung’s hands steady you, a rumble in his chest.

“Jesus Y/N. How much have you drank already?” He exasperates, glancing over at Jungkook.

“I told her to slow down,” Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. You giggle letting go of your friend to quickly hug Jimin too. “She doesn’t listen to me,” he adds with a laugh.

“I’m fine guys,” you say glancing at Taehyung’s and Jimin’s costumes.”Really? Pirates?”  

“Hey!” Taehyung defends, “How much more cliché could you two get? A doctor and a nurse?!”

You glance over at Jungkook in his scrubs and white coat and down your body. A slutty red and white nurse’s uniform complete with thigh highs hug your figure and you quite liked it, mainly because watching Jungkook shift uncomfortably every time he glanced at you made you feel accomplished.

“Hey, we look hot,” you point at Taehyung’s chest, stumbling backwards again. Jungkook decides to pull you to his side, not wanting you to fall on your ass for real this time.

“Come on babe, slow down,” Jungkook mumbles as he wraps his arms around your front, glancing down your cleavage from behind. You nudge his stomach with your elbow.

“I’m a big girl,” you pout, “So are we going or what?”

“Yeah, just waiting on the address,” Jimin smiles waving his phone in the air.

A few moments pass, chatter between the four of you ensues. You loved your little group. Taehyung and Jimin welcomed Jungkook with open arms, the four of you going out on double dates, grabbing coffee, watching movies, and studying all became weekly occurrences. You were always so scared to dive into another relationship given your age and circumstance, but you swore that someway and somehow—you and Jungkook were meant to be together.

Twenty minutes later, the four of you step out of your Uber and make your way towards the new bar that opened near your campus. It was opening weekend and a Halloween party was obviously necessary. You held onto Jungkook’s hand tightly as you made your way inside the crowded area. You immediately aimed your way to the bar, ordering a vodka-soda, Jungkook ordering some soju.

“Don’t blackout on me now,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, watching the way you take a huge sip of your drink.

“I said I’m a big girl,” you stand your ground, “I bet I can put away twice as many drinks as you.”

“Don’t listen to her Jungkook,” Taehyung says grabbing his own mixed drink, “She likes to spit nonsense when she’s drunk.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” he smirks at you and roll your eyes at him. Jungkook leans down and you peck his lips lightly—the same butterflies swirling in your stomach all these months later. Jimin watches the interaction closely. He knows exactly how you and Jungkook feels, but he still can’t shake the uneasiness deep in his gut.

“Come on, let’s dance,” you smile up at your boyfriend tugging on his arm. The music was loud and good, you were not just going to stand around. Jungkook nods quickly as you finish your drink, leaving Taehyung and Jimin behind at the bar.

Your heels made you more even with Jungkook’s height tonight as you threw your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. His hands grip you waist tightly, wanting every guy here to know that you were his. For some reason, for whatever fucking reason—Jungkook felt inclined to protect you. As you sing whatever song was playing loudly, Jungkook found himself smiling and laughing at you. His chest twisted and his heart thumped. He still pinched himself when he woke up in the mornings. How did he get so lucky in this fucked world of destiny? If you weren’t meant for him, then who was?

You turn around pushing your back to his front. He holds you close as you both sway to the music as if it’s only you and him against the world. He smiles into your neck, kissing your delicate skin once in awhile. He spins you out from him and spins you back in quickly, your mind going dizzy.

“Hey careful,” you whine as you turn to him once again, “I’m drunk you know.”

“I thought you were a big girl,” he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe not when I’m drunk,” you yell-whisper into his ear. He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. To any wondering eye, it would look as if you two were soulmates among other destined couples. Maybe that was the point? To fake it and then it becomes real?

Your heart swells at the thought. Jungkook studies your face intently, knowing that uttering his next words could be real dangerous but when you flash your gorgeous smile at him—he knows he has to say it.

“Wanna know a secret?” He asks.

“Sure.”

“I love you,” the words spill from his mouth. Your movements stop and you swear your drunkeness subsides momentarily.

“W-what?” You stutter. Did you hear him correctly?

“I know we’re drunk and this isn’t the best time but yeah,” he nods, “I love you Y/N.”

You head spins and you heart drops into your stomach. A smile creeps up onto your face.

“Really?” you ask, your eyes similar to those of a puppy. Jungkook nods, biting his lip. Will you say it back? “Thank fucking god, I thought I was the only one,” you say dramatically.

He furrows his eyebrows, chuckling, “Really?”

“Jeon Jungkook I fucking love you too,” you say, “I was waiting on you to say it.”

Once again he laughs, “Babe you can’t wait on stuff, you gotta go after what you want.”

“Well I already have you, don’t I?” You point out, “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Why? We’ve have one drink babe,” he says as you’re tugging on his hand.

“I know,” you look at him with a devilish smirk, “But I wanna fuck you and I’m not doing that in this bar.”

Jungkook’s face falls, blood rushing to his cock. “Fair enough.”

.

November is cold, which means December is going to be even colder. The days get shorter and your nights get longer as you try to prepare for finals in the next few weeks. Currently you’re bundled in two layers of clothing in the back of the library with Namjoon, adding the finishing touches on your final project that’s also due soon. Jungkook had to attend a seminar for one of his classes this evening which is why he’s MIA.

“Lucky shit,” Namjoon remarks when you explain your boyfriend’s absence. It was still strange to refer to him as your boyfriend.

“Would you honestly want to be lectured about how building muscles in the key to life right now?” You raise an eyebrow at him pointedly. Jungkook could even admit as a sports medicine major some of the people and things he learns about is absolute horseshit.

Namjoon laughs, “Touche.”

You’re working on the presentation aspect of you project while Namjoon is typing away at the research paper. As much as you despised the soulmate hoopla, reading about this stuff was very interesting. You had read how soulmates are apparently linked and of course, there is truly only one person meant for you. You rolled your eyes at these statements. If that was true, then why have you still not been given a name? There were so many questions that were just unanswerable that you couldn’t get over. Sure, the soulmate thing worked for some you couldn’t lie about that. At the end of the day though, perhaps you were one of the lucky ones—not bound by a name and given free reign over who is in the same spot as you.

“How’s everything going with you two by the way?” Namjoon asks curiously. His eyes haven’t left his computer screen so you oppose looking back at him when you answer.

“Good,” you smile slightly, “It’s still weird to think that we’re together,” you laugh at your statement.

He smiles to himself, “Weird for you? How about weird for me? I introduced the two of you being Jungkook is shy twat.”

“I know, I know,” you reach across the table and squeeze Namjoon’s hand playfully, “Which is why I’ve thanked you how many times now?”

“Yeah yeah, you only. Jungkook hasn’t given me his thanks yet.”

“I wouldn’t expect him too.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” he smiles with another stifled laugh as you two try to keep quiet. “So nothing’s really happened between you two?”

He’s referring to your project which you hastily agreed on letting yours and Jungkook’s “experience” to be first hand research.

You shake your head, “No. By the fifth time we had sex I was expecting to “feel excruciating pain deep within my chest as the universe tries to pull me away” him,” you quote one of the claims made by a well-known and well respected researcher. It was almost comical—how could anyone believe this stuff?

“Okay, TMI,” he puts his hands up.

“Hey this was your idea,” you remind him.

“It’s just wild to me,” he says, “I mean we grow up thinking there’s someone out there only meant for us and you and Jungkook… just don’t have one?” He looks off in the distance and you’re not sure if you should be offended by his statement—though Namjoon is a realist and he’s very logical so everything he’s saying is true.

“We have each other,” you shrug, “That’s good enough for me. I love him for who he is,” you almost feel heat coming to your face but you push it down.

“That’s how I feel about Kaya,” he almost smiles.

You look at him curiously—Namjoon hardly ever speaks of his soulmate. They’ve been together for a long time but she goes to university a couple hours from here so they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like.

“Can I see?” You whisper. He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Your mark, I mean.”

Namjoon looks down at his left hand before nodding, opening his palm for you. In faint white writing, almost skin color—is the name Kaya in beautiful cursive. It makes your heart strings feel heavy for a moment. You knew you didn’t need a name to find love but you had always been curious about what it would be like to dawn one.

“Did it hurt? When it showed up?”

He shakes his head, “Not really, just kind like a little sting.”

“Why do you think I don’t have one? And Jungkook too?”

Your question catches him off guard. Honestly if anyone could answer this question, it was Park Jimin but he obviously wasn’t here. Namjoon was smart though—maybe he had good theories.

“I honestly don’t know,” he says softly, “I feel all the research of this stuff only applies for people who have one.”

You snort, “Right.”

“I mean you can never say never though,” he shakes his head, “Just because society has said before eighteen, that could be bullshit for all we know. You saw how in some of these articles, some names showed up in people’s early and mid-twenties too.”

“Yeah… and then what?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“It’s just seems so unfair that I can see Jungkook in my life after college and that could be taken away so easily. Or I could be taken away from him… it’s just so fucked don’t you think?” You don’t even realize how shaky your tone is, but Namjoon picks it up.

“Are you worried about that?”

Your mouth goes dry, “I like to think he’s the one for me,” you say after a few seconds of silence.

He bites his lip, unsure of what to say next, “Well maybe he is,” he offers trying to lighten your mood.

You look down at your hands, inspecting your wrist and fingers carefully. Your stomach churns at your next thought.

“And what if he isn’t?” You glance back to find his eyes staring holes into you.

“Then it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to think the universe isn’t wrong.”

You nod slowly taking in his words. Sure you and Jungkook had been official for awhile now and you hoped that this feeling with him would never end. You liked to think the universe isn’t wrong either and maybe that’s why you and Jungkook found each other—cause it was meant to be.

Yours and Namjoon’s conversation stuck with you the rest of the evening. Jungkook had picked you up from the library in his black Mercedes around 8 PM. Even though it was a Wednesday, you and Jungkook had been staying at each other’s places more often than not. With your only roommate being away in Europe for study abroad, it was nice having him stay with you.

Jungkook noticed something was bothering you as he drove back to your place as you didn’t say much to him. You gripped his hand tightly in yours but the way your eyes didn’t meet his— it worried him. He became even more worried when you didn’t want to eat dinner after he had picked up your favorite takeout. It was his treat to you since he was unable to come to the library tonight.

“I’m just not that hungry,” you said pushing around the Chinese food with your chopsticks. You were both sat on your couch, your feet up in his lap watching some romantic-comedy TV show—Jungkook’s choosing—not yours.

“You’re always hungry,” he says poking at your leg to try to get a smile from you. Nothing. He furrows his eyebrows at you though you don’t even notice it as you’re looking away from him.

“What’s up babe?” Jungkook’s question takes you out of your thoughts. Were you that obvious?

“Hm?” You glance at him, trying to play your emotions off.

“You’re just being so… quiet?” He says softly, setting down his plate on the coffee table. He shifts his body to your frame, a hand holding up his head on the back of the couch.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Y/N you can tell me anything you know,” he rubs the back of your calves. The motion alone relaxes you significantly and you still don’t know how someone has this affect over you.

You pause, unsure if you should voice your worries to him. Would they cause problems between you two if you said what you were actually thinking? Was Namjoon right? “It’s just Namjoon and I were talking tonight and—“

“What did he say to you?” Jungkook quickly interrupts with a harsh tone. As much as Jungkook loved Namjoon like a brother—he was too brash and sometimes that lead to hurt feelings.

“It’s nothing he said it just got me thinking,” you shake your head aimlessly, looking behind Jungkook’s head at the wall.  He doesn’t say anything wanting you to continue. “Don’t you worry about the future?”

Jungkook purses his lips, thinking deeply about your question before answering honestly.

“Everyday,” he says, “But I like to live for now, in the present… why are you asking?”

“What are we supposed to do if we’re separated, huh?” The words tumble from your mouth, your tone not the sweetest. You tense up in Jungkook’s hands and he notices your demeanor quickly changing.

“Why are you saying that Y/N?” His voice is confused and heavy.

“Because I fucking love you Jungkook and I don’t want you taken away from me, that’s why,” you let out a deep breath, pushing yourself up and off the couch. Jungkook watches you as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. You’re clearly distressed about something. Slowly, he rises to his feet sauntering over to your frame that’s staring down at the sink.

“Y/N,” his voice is low behind you. Your knuckles are nearly white from gripping the side of the counter so hard. You felt tears pricking in your eyes that you had to force away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your front and you lean back into his frame.

He rests his head on your shoulder, “Baby I get it, okay? I know it’s scary not knowing what the hell is wrong with people like us—“

“That’s the problem Jungkook,” you say, “There’s something wrong with us and it’s fucked up. How do we know that this, us, is okay?”

“Listen I know you don’t believe in destiny and all that stuff but,” he pauses nuzzling into your neck, “But I do and I feel like if this, us—isn’t meant to be, then what is?”

You lean your head on his before you reluctantly turn your body around, your hands sliding behind his torso.

“How are you so sure?” You mutter meeting his gaze. His eyes are worried for you but still deep down, they have a light and wonder you’ve never fully understood.

He gives you a tiny smile, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved anyone more before, I promise you, we’ll be fine. You will be fine.”

The weight from your shoulders is lifted as Jungkook’s words reassure you. He had such a hopeless romantic complex about him, you were sure he knew everything right to say to make you feel better. He was right—the odds of you two being this late in the game and meeting can’t be coincidental. He was yours and you were his—that’s all that mattered.

“Are you good now?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you nod against his forehead, leaning forward to peck his lips.

“Much better,” you then say. Jungkook chases his mouth with yours again before pulling away after a brief kiss.

“Good because I had something important to ask you anyways,” he says giving you some space.

Your eyes bulge, a worried look instantly spreading on your features, “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you? After what we just—“

He shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not right now at least,” he continues to laugh and your heart lurches at the thought. “But I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Busan with me, for Christmas?”

You are taken aback by his question, your mouth parting unsure of what to say.

“Like go home with you?” He nods at your question, “And meet your family?” He nods again.

“I know we haven’t been together that long but I’d figure I would offer,” he shrugs.

“Do your parents know about us?”

“I mentioned someone to them on the phone the other day.”

“Do they know the full situation?” you ponder. You two weren’t soulmates and meeting parents was a huge step.

“No,” he says, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fake it,” a smirk spreads on his lips.

“Jungkook, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“None of my ideas are the best ideas let’s be real,” he chuckles, “And I’m not saying you have to go, but if you want to the offer is there.”

You bite your lip as your eyes meet. The stove light was shining on his face so his small scar was prominent. It would be nice you suppose, meeting his brother who gave him that scar and his parents too. You had never met any of your significant other’s parents—Jungkook really must believe in you two then.

“I’ll think about it,” you smile up at him, squeezing your arms tightly around his frame. He nods before leaning down, kissing you once again gently. Your night ends with you finally eating your food and Jungkook in your bed making you feel better than anyone ever has. It was perfect.

WINTER

“And how, may I ask,” your professor’s voice is the first to ask a question when you are done speaking, “Did the three of you manage to maintain data regarding the intimacy of two people whose souls are not bound yet?”

Your eyes flicker over to Namjoon and Jungkook. You’re about to respond but Namjoon beats you to it.

“Professor Jung, we know it can seem like we made up part of our research but,” he pauses, “But we trust the individuals who relayed us this information in the past three months and out of respect for them… we ask for you not to probe too much.”

Your professor’s eyebrows raise at Namjoon’s comment. His eyes flicker between the three of you, unable to decipher Namjoon’s passive aggressiveness. You were thankful he decided to answer the question, because you’re sure that you would have been too nice about it. Why can’t this jackass just take the information you are presenting and shove it up his ass?  

“I see,” he breathes in deeply, “It just seems very hard for me to wrap my head around the argument that you’ve presented, when there’s so much research saying the opposite. The effects of intimacy is sacred for soul bonded people. Horrible illnesses and other things can happen to these people that go against nature.”

“It does seem that way professor,” you chime in, “But perhaps it’s time for new, more in-depth research to be done on this subject. These independent relationships may not work for everyone but in this case—it has.”

He chews on the end of his pen, “I agree wholeheartedly and though I still have my doubts about your research, I cannot deny the three of you have presented me with a topic that no one ever has before. The psychology behind soul-binding, sex, and relationships is amazing and endless… and isn’t the point of life to ask questions?” He seems to have lost somewhat focus on the three of you. What an idiot.  

“Exactly,” Jungkook nods sending you a quick wink. You chew on your bottom lip to avoid from grinning. “As they say, we learn something new everyday.”

“That you are correct Mr. Jeon,” he say points to your boyfriend. “Well, I think you three have presented a wonderful project and I look forward to reading your research paper for further depth. Expect a grade by the end of the week. Thank you, it was… mostly a pleasure having you in my class,” his eyes glance at you briefly and it takes all of you not to launch at him over his stupidly expensive desk.

“Thank you professor. Have a good winter break,” Namjoon smiles. The three of you leave the small conference room attached to his office. Thankfully, you did not have to present your project in front of the entire class.

You let out a groan of relief when the cold winter air welcomes you outside. “Thank god that’s over!” You smile up at the sky.

Jungkook throws an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close, “What grade do you think we’ll get hyung?” He smiles at Namjoon who is digging around for his phone.

“Hopefully an A. With the bullshit you were feeding him? I think he loved it, he was just being a hardass because of Y/N,” he motions to you.

You’re mouth falls open, “Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me! He’s a raging psychotic sexist,” you huff crossing your arms over you.

“Uh huh,” Namjoon hums, “First day straggler.”

You narrow your eyes at him before Jungkook nudges you, “C’mon I’m freezing, let’s go home,” he whines and you give him a small nod.  

“I’ll see you after break?” You ask the dimpled man in front of you.

He smiles, “Yeah for sure. But I gotta go—I have a plane to catch later tonight.”

“Where are you going?” This is even news to Jungkook.

“Oh, Kaya and I are going to Europe for two weeks, should be fun,” he looks down at his phone, “Oh shit, yeah I gotta go, Merry Christmas!” He waves at you two before running off in the opposite direction to the bus stop.

“Europe? I wanna go to Europe,” you pout looking up at Jungkook. He gives you a peck on the lips, your pout irrespective.

“We’ll go one day. It’s fun,” he says as you two begin to walk towards the student parking lot.

“You’ve been?”

“A few countries there, yeah,” he nods intertwining your fingers. Jeez, the amount of things and places Jungkook has been in his 22 years made your life look boring as hell. “Like I said, we’ll go—I promise,” is the last thing he says before you two get into his car.

The car ride is mostly a comfortable silence on the way to your place. His hand rests on your thigh, holding you tighter whenever he takes a turn.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Jungkook asks suddenly getting your attention.

“It’s not that I don’t want to Jungkook,” you say, “It’s just Taehyung said he was going to be here by himself all break and when he asked, I felt bad.”

He pouts giving you a glance, “I know but I’ll be lonelyyy,” he drags out.

“You have your whole family babe,” you laugh at his childish demeanor.

“Yeah but I’m not exactly into cuddling my brother when I go to sleep,” he mutters and you swat his arm. “And you’re telling me I have to go two weeks without having sex?!”

“Jungkook,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re starting to sound like Professor Jung with your concerns about sex.”

“Duh,” he says, “Why do you think I liked him so much?”

“I hate you,” you deadpan and you gives you a shit-eating grin.

“I love you too.”

.

The next couple days Jungkook stays at your place completely, not wanting to leave your side before he has to go to Busan for two weeks. He was very disappointed that you didn’t want to go to Busan with him, but he knew Taehyung was your best friend and you were bound to do anything for him.

“I can’t believe you’re trusting me with your car,” you say pulling into the train station parking garage. His Mercedes was a low-ground sports car, complete with a V8 engine and custom leather seats. You were still blown away that Jungkook had this car in college. You assumed that his parents must have money because you didn’t know how else to explain it.

Jungkook was nervous watching you drive his baby. When you would press on the gas or the breaks a little too hard he could felt his heart stop for a second.

“Yeah just please be careful,” he pleads as you park perfectly. You put his car in park and turn to him.

“Don’t you trust me?” You blink your lashes at him. He smirks adjusting the beanie on his head.

“I do,” he says, “Mostly.”

“Let’s make a deal Jeon,” you suggest as you help him unload his bags from the trunk. Jungkook was like a woman bringing two full suitcases and a duffle bag with him for a two week trip.

“Shoot babe,” he says.

“If nothing happens to your car in these two weeks—which it won’t—you can treat me for being a good girl,” you smirk up at him and he visibly gulps, rolling his tongue in his cheek. He thought your morning sex would have been enough but he wonder’s if he should take you into a bathroom at the train station and fuck your brains out again before he leaves.

“Deal,” he manages to choke out, going against his previous thought. Goddamn he was so in love with you he wasn’t sure he could make it without you for two weeks. In the five months you have known each other this was going to be longest time spent apart.

As you approach the ticket counter for Jungkook to check in, you start to feel a sadness settling in your heart and stomach. You felt like you were being dramatic about not seeing Jungkook for two weeks but he had become such an important role in your happiness—it was going to be weird not seeing him everyday. He truly was your other half.

“Alright I gotta head to my platform,” Jungkook says giving you a weak smile. “Thanks for driving me here.”

You try your best to muster up a smile, “No problem.”

He quickly pulls you in for a hug, encasing your frame around his tightly. You inhale his scent deeply so you won’t forget it in the next couple weeks.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he mumbles into your ear.

You pull your head out of his chest, “As long as you don’t miss me too much.”

God you two were disgusting.

He smiles leaning down a for kiss, you close the gap between you two. You only kiss for a moment not wanting to catch any unwanted attention.

“I love you,” you smile at him.

“I love you too,” he says, suddenly reaching into the deep pocket of his large sweatshirt. “Here,” he hands over a tiny box wrapped in Christmas paper and an envelope taped to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook,” you look at him and then the present, “We said we weren’t going to give each other presents.”

“I know but I couldn’t resist. I just thought of you when I saw it.”

“Thank you,” your heart flutters and you give him one last peck before he has to leave.  

“Merry Christmas,” he says, “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”

“Merry Christmas Jungkook.”

A brief walk back to Jungkook’s car has your heart in shambles. As you watched him leave for his platform, you couldn’t help but think you should have went with him. Taehyung would have understood—but that also meant meeting his parents and you weren’t sure that was a good idea just yet.

You settled into the driver seat of his car, carefully tearing the wrapping from the small box. Your eyes widen when you open it, a baby teal box revealing a beautiful ring on the inside. A gold band shines in the light, a small circular diamond in the middle shines even brighter.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, quickly ripping open the envelope that he also gave you. It contained a cheesy Christmas card, his handwriting scribbling—

Merry Christmas Y/N. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one. I’m just one call away and I’ll always be here for you.

Cheesy I know—but you know cheesy is my middle name.

I love you.

Jungkook

.

“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Taehyung exclaims when you show him your new accessory on your hand. “This must have been thousands of dollars,” he grabs your hand to inspect the jewelry. “Tiffany too? What kind of money is Jungkook’s parent’s shitting out for him to give you this?”

“Hey now, he does well with his photography,” you pinch in, noting that he began selling pieces after much consideration.

“I know I know but damn,” he moves your hand around to see the light catching in the diamond. “When did he give you this?”

“The other day when I dropped him off at the train station.”

“Wow… I think you’ve won in the boyfriend category Y/N,” his eyes still haven’t left your finger and you know it’s the alcohol in his system that is keeping him mesmerized.

“It’s not a competition dumbass,” you spew at him.

“What did you get him? An amazing blowjob topped with a new lens for his cameras?”

You laugh at Taehyung’s words, “I’m more mad at the fact the he even bought it, we said we weren’t going to give each other gifts.”

“Well shit Y/N he basically proposed to you—that’s not a gift, is it?” His glassy, wine drunk eyes look at you curiously.

You pull your hand away from him, laying back down against your couch.

“Tae,” you mutter, feeling slightly tipsy yourself, “Do you think Jungkook and I will last?”

Taehyung leans back beside you, exhaling a deep breathe heavily. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but it makes you nervous.

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes looking straight ahead, his tone real and understanding. Taehyung couldn’t voice it—no matter how much he wanted to over the months of you relationship with Jungkook—but he knew what you were going through in more ways than one.

“Really?” You look at him, nuzzling your head into his outstretched arm. He looks down at you before nodding.

“If you two want it to work… it will,” his voice deep and serious.

“How do you know that though?” You mutter, your tone down and pessimistic.

He breathes in deeply, “I just do… I know you two love each other. Anyone can see it Y/N. Don’t doubt anything unless you’ve been given a reason to doubt.”

Taehyung was always more philosophical when he was drinking and this proves that even more.

“Trust me,” his deep voice adds when you don’t say anything immediately .

“What would I do without you?” You finally muster looking up at him.

He smirks, “Lose your mind, that’s what.”

“Give me more credit than that asshole,” you push against his torso.

He laughs before responds with, “Hell no.”

“Well, should we open up our presents?” You give him a small smile glancing at the gifts that were lazily strewn on the floor. Your miniature Christmas tree was slightly pathetic—but it was better than nothing you suppose.

“Sure, but don’t expect another item from Tiffany alright?” He muses as he stands up to grab his gifts for you.

“Fuck off,” you laugh reaching your hands out as he places a bag and a box wrapped in front of you. You were sure Jimin wrapped these given how perfect they were.

“You first,” he gives you a warm smile. You dig into the bag first as it is less to unwrap. Your mouth drops open when you pull out a box of condoms, Taehyung stifling a laugh behind his smile.

“Taehyung are you kidding me?” You’re trying hard not to laugh either. He fucking would.

“Ultra thin… thought they would come in handy since, you know, you two fuck like bunnies,” he sends over a wink and you’re quick to flip him off. You open his next present which happens to be a coat you’ve been eyeing for the past few weeks, but hesitant to buy due to the $300 price tag.

“Tae, you didn’t have to get me this,” you marvel at the thick material, the baby blue color just the one you wanted. “This is too expensive—“

“Babe it’s fine,” he shakes his head, “I know you need some help with our wardrobe so I’m only offering my services,” he says matter of factly.

You move the box away from you and throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly and in this moment you realize how happy your are. You perhaps have the best boyfriend and best friend of anyone you know. You didn’t think anything would change that.

“Here,” you pass Taehyung over your present and he quickly rips the paper off. He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning and you decide to pour more wine as he fidgets with the box.

“Shit Y/N!” He smiles widely, “Holy shit you didn’t have to get me this,” he takes his gift out of the box. He smiles widely at the leather bag you got him. Not a cheap price tag either—but it was Taehyung’s favorite bag and his old one was not cutting it anymore.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, gulping down your white wine quickly. You two were quite drunk at this point.

“Jeez,” he shakes his head pulling you into another bone crushing hug, “Fuck Jimin and Jungkook. Let’s just get married, you and me kid.”

You laugh at his words, “Trust me, if you were straight I would take you up on that.”

The rest of your evening is spent with watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” more wine, and endless laughter with your best friend.

.

It’s about 5 AM when you wake up in your bed with a busting headache and a stomach ache that has you doubled over on your toilet. Fuck, did you really drink that much? Your question is answered when everything in your stomach is coming up through your esophagus. You don’t know how long you sit on your knees, hands on the toilet throwing up your guts.

“Y/N?” Taehyung appears at your bathroom door rubbing his eyes, “Whoa, are you okay?” He quickly comes down behind you, holding your hair back and away from your face.

Finally after what seems like forever, you stop throwing up, resting your head on the porcelain.

“Yeah,” you groan, your throat raw and sore, “I guess I just drank too much.”

“Shit, do you need anything?” He asks, voice laced with concern.

“Just some water please,” you tell him and he leaves to quickly get you a glass. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You’re not sure the last time you were this hungover was. You knew you needed water and sleep—maybe that would alleviate the pain in your head and stomach.

You get back into bed a few moments later with Taehyung laying down beside you. He gives you your space and before you know it, both of you fall back to sleep.

You wake up again around 10 AM, your headache still busting but your stomach more settled now. You’re sipping tea watching another Christmas movie with Taehyung when your phone rings. A smile stretches on your face when you see Jungkook’s name pop up.

“Hey,” you answer the phone, sitting up from your position on the couch.

“Hey babe,” his voice brings comfort to your ears, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you say, “Did you have a good morning?”

Jungkook hesitates over the line before speaks again, “Uh, yeah… what about you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. He sounds… distant and unconfident with his words.

“I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh, watching Taehyung glance at you quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Well I’m just really hungover, Taehyung really did a number on me with the wine last night,” you laugh again trying to ease whatever tension Jungkook is holding through the phone.

He chuckles nervously for a moment over the phone, “Well drink some water and rest okay?”

“I know, I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day,” you look at your nails that desperately need to be manicured.

“Yeah good,” is all he says and you purse your lips. Normally Jungkook is so talkative over the phone—what’s up with him?

“Babe are you okay?” You ask him with genuine concern. You would hate for him to be going through something and him not tell you. Taehyung gives you a weird look and you shrug your shoulders.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just tired from all the Christmas hoopla I’ve had to do the past few days,” he says seeming to explain his demeanor, “But I’m gonna call you later okay? I’ve got a Christmas brunch to get ready for but I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

You smile at his words, “Alright, have fun. I’ll talk to you later. Hurry home. I love you.”

“I’ll try I promise,” you can sense a small smile in his voice, “I love you too.” So much.

You stay sick for the next three days. Your body aches, your head hurts, and you’re still throwing up occasionally therefore you’ve barely had anything to eat the past three days. You and Taehyung are afraid you’ve picked up a small flu from someone. Despite this, Taehyung stays with you, not wanting to leave you alone sick like this.

Jimin gets back from home a couple days after you’ve fallen ill. Jimin being a medical guy himself, is unsure of what or who could have gotten you sick.

“As long as you don’t get and maintain a fever, I think you should be fine,” he says watching your frame on your couch. You had not felt this sick in so long and of course it had to be right before Jungkook got back home too.

“Should Jungkook come around her? He gets back when, tomorrow?” Taehyung asks you.

You nod, “Yeah, tomorrow evening,” you manage to say through your sore throat that feels like it’s actually on fire.

“I don’t think you’re contagious otherwise he would be sick too,” he motions to Taehyung, “He should be fine,” his voice is low and steady. His eyes don’t leave your frame though you’re too tired to notice Jimin’s intense stare.

You push yourself off of the couch, wanting to get some sleep in your bed. “I’m gonna take a nap, you guys don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding, “We can get some food and bring some back for you later?”

“That would be great Tae,” you smile at him, “Thanks guys.”

Jimin and Taehyung leave your apartment, locking the door behind them with Taehyung’s spare key.

“Do you think she’s really okay? I’ve never seen her like this,” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin as he pulls up directions to the nearest ramen restaurant near them.

Jimin’s throat goes dry and he hesitates, biting his lip, “Honestly, I think we’ll just have to see.”

Jimin’s words are uneasy in Taehyung’s mind—both of them equally worried for you.

. You are jumping out of the shower when you get a text from Jungkook.

[Jungkook ♥ 6:58 PM] I’m about an hour away. Can’t wait to see you.

You smile at his text, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. Today you woke up feeling a lot better—still not 100%—but you could actually stomach food today. Despite your illness, you didn’t really care at this point. You could wait to see Jungkook—you missed him so much more than you thought you would have.

[You 7:00 PM] Perfect. I’ll see you soon ♥

[Jungkook ♥ 7:02 PM] ♥

The train station is more crowded than it was went you sent Jungkook off. The masses of being returning from their holiday was immense and you were afriad you weren’t going to be able to find Jungkook through the masses.

Little to your knowledge, Jungkook had spotted you after he exited his platform—a beautiful baby blue coat hanging off of your frame—signaling where you stood. After not seeing your face for two weeks, he smiled to himself. You were so fucking beautiful to him and he loved you so much—it only made his heart hurt even more.

He hesitates walking towards your back that’s facing him. He takes in a deep breath before he wraps his arms around your front. You jump in his arms and turn around with the smile that makes his day. Today—it only breaks him even further.

“Jungkook,” you turn around and hug him tightly. Finally—he was home. He doesn’t say anything as he returns your hug, kissing you on the top of the head. He glances down at his arms, pulling his jacket sleeve down, making sure his watch wasn’t going anywhere.

After all, he was desperate to hide the name that was inked on his wrist that wasn’t yours.

.

JUNGKOOK

Christmas Eve—Busan

Jungkook’s tie is too tight around his neck. He swore to his mother that it was fine but her being as stubborn as she was, made sure to secure it so that not even she could move it. He pulls at his collar and his older brother, Junghyun laughs at him.

“You look like a little kid, pulling and tugging at that you know,” Junghyun eyes Jungkook and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s suffocating hyung—I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” Jungkook responds with a laugh.

It was their annual Christmas Eve party held by their father’s company and it was just as stuffy and rich as Jungkook remembers. Jungkook and his brother didn’t speak much about their wealth. They had both grown up with more money, toys, clothes, shoes, and vacations that they ever needed. They never once complained as they both know how incredibly lucky they were to have already lived 5 lives before turning 30. They did however, understand how tiring this lifestyle was.

Perhaps it is why neither Jungkook or Junghyun pursued business as a major—neither one wanted to have this much to handle on their plate. Thankfully, despite most of the people that associated with the Jeon family—their mother and father were humble and respected their sons’ decisions to make their own path. If it were up to their mother though, should would have her sons closer to Busan than so far away.

“Well, the night is still young,” his brother speaks again, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne.

“There you two are,” Yeri—Junghyun’s soulmate and partner appears from what seems to be out of thin air. “Hi my love,” she smiles up at Junghyun as he pulls her closer to his hip. “Jungkook, how are you?”  

“Pretty good, my tie is too tight,” he pouts.  

Yeri observes Jungkook, “I think it looks good?” She looks back up at his brother and he nods in agreement.

“I know, he’s just a baby,”  he remarks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.  

“Anyways, your mother is looking for you two—we’re about to eat dinner,” she informs and both of the brother’s nod.  

Jungkook follows closely behind them, weaving in and out of people to get to their designated table. Jungkook only recognizes a handful of people he passes even though they know exactly who he is. They find their table, their parents already seated and ready for dinner.

Jungkook smiles when he sees his mother, bending down to hug her.

“Hello Jungkook, Junghyun,” she greets her sons, “Yeri, please sit!”

He takes a seat right of his mom, Junghyun and Yeri to his left. His father is busy speaking with a business partner at the table to pay much attention to them. Jungkook grew up used to that though—his father always overworking himself, barely getting home before they had to go to bed. Despite this, he was still a great father in Jungkook’s eyes, providing and making them laugh every chance he got.

“What’s for dinner, Mrs. Jeon?” Yeri asks. Jungkook’s mother loved Yeri the moment she set her eyes on her all those years ago and nothing has changed.

“Oh, we’re having a little bit of everything—bulgogi, samgyeopsal, jajangmyeon, kimchi. I hope it’s good, we had to get a new caterer this year,” a sudden worry falls over he face but she quickly brushes it away.

“Perfect, I’m starved,” Jungkook mumbles, once again, mindlessly tugging at his collar. Jungkook’s mom swats his hand away.

“Quit it, you’re fine,” she scolds him and he settles in his seat, picking up his newly poured glass of red wine. It was true—he was starved and if he didn’t get food in his system quickly, he would probably become tipsy from a singular glass of champagne and wine.

The food arrives at each table in an orderly fashion as everyone finally takes their seats. A few words of thanks are spoken before everyone digs in, placing various meats on the grills in front of them. Commotion and chatter quickly fill the large hall. Jungkook is busy stuffing his mouth with noodles when suddenly his name is spoken across the table.

“Jungkook,” his father addresses him. He swallows his food quickly before raising an eyebrow in response. “You remember Mr. Kim, Seokjin’s father?”

The mention of Seokjin brings a wash of memories over Jungkook’s brain. He was an older kid that him and Junghyun used to play around with growing up.

“Yes, of course,” Jungkook slightly smiles to the elder.

“I can’t believe you’re almost done with university,” Mr. Kim compliments Jungkook, “What are you majoring in again?”

“Sports medicine,” Jungkook says feeling slightly intimidated by his stare. Suddenly Mr. Kim’s eyes glance down to Jungkook’s hand and he suddenly feels self conscious about his the ink colored on his fingers. He quickly retracts his hand under the table before he speaks again.

“Well that’s really good to hear,” he smiles warmly again, “Are you planning on furthering your education past undergrad?”

“Yes sir,” he nods, “I plan to pursue a sports physician or therapist within the next few years.”

He looks over at Jungkook’s father, “I don’t think your sons could be any more opposite than you and I,” he laughs and Jungkook’s father nods with a small smile.

“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters,” his father says. Jungkook glances at Junghyun, hoping he was paying some attention to the conversation so Jungkook could continue eating. He wasn’t.

“Yes I see,” Mr. Kim nods, “They will do good for themselves and their partners, I’m sure of it.”

The mention of the word partner gets Jungkook’s mother’s attention.

“Oh yes, Junghyun and Yeri have recently leased a house in Seoul,” she smiles proudly at her eldest. It was true—Junghyun was a practicing lawyer and Yeri was a court reporter so they were doing pretty well off even though they haven’t reached 30 yet.

“If only they could hurry up and get married,” she then adds with a laugh. Junghyun looks over and he grimaces, though no ill intent by the stare.

“Mom, we’ve told you. We’re settling our house and finances for another year or so, then we are,” he responds swiftly.

“Well, then it seems like Jungkook is due next,” Mr. Kim adds into the mix. Suddenly, Jungkook tenses up and his face falls. Oh how he wish you were here right now so he wasn’t alone in this.

“Well Jungkook does have a partner, right?” His mom looks over at him. Jungkook had mentioned you to his mom and dad but that was it—so this is news for Junghyun and Yeri who were carefully listening to his words. Jungkook was 22 after all—the clock was ticking.

“Yes mom,” he nods, “I invited her to Busan with me for the holidays but she decided to stay back home,” he explains.

“Ah, that’s too bad, we would have loved to meet her,” Mr. Kim says, “Next time though?’

Jungkook nods, a small smile present, “Next time.”

The conversation thankfully dies after that. As much as Jungkook wanted to talk about you—he was so hesitant for well, obvious reasons. His mom had the most questions about you and he answered all of them to her liking. She seemed to think their souls were bonded and wasn’t that the point he was trying to make? He wanted his mom to love you like he did and he was confident she would by the way her eyes lit up when he spoke about you.

“She seems lovely Jungkook,” she says, “And you just met her this year? After all this time?”

After all this time—yeah right. “Yeah, we had a class together.”

“Well I for one cannot wait to meet her,” she smiles taking a sip of her wine, “You should invite her again when you two graduate, you know we have to have a party to celebrate.”

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry but he nods quickly, just wanting to focus on the dessert that was being place in front of him.

“She would love that,” is all he says before he digs into his cheesecake. After a few glasses of wine, Jungkook had felt himself become a little tipsy and he knew he needed to slow down if he wanted to enjoy Christmas morning.

After he finishes his sweet treat, he excuses himself to get some water. As much as he hates these kinds of things, he wishes he had his camera to capture some memories—even though it was his first Christmas with you despite being separated by hundreds of kilometers.

He reaches the beverage table, quickly asking for a glass of water when suddenly he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me?” A girls voice asks, “Would you mind getting me a glass of Chardonnay?”

He glances at the girl before nodding, asking for a glass to hand to her. The server hands Jungkook a wine glass and he turns around to see the girl for the first time. He’s slightly taken aback from her beauty. She’s got warm brown hair that flows down her chest, welcoming eyes, and a smile that he swears sparkled in the light.

“Thank you,” her eyes met his and he feels his chest tightening the longer he looks at her. As much as he wants to look away—he physically is unable. She seems to feel the same because he doesn’t know how much time has passed of them staring at each other before someone calls out to her.

She glances to her right, raising her glass as another thanks before walking away from Jungkook. His eyes follow her as her back turns to him. She’s wearing a simple purple dress with sleeves and heels that make her legs look long and lean.

He shakes his head out of his trance-like state, what the fuck? He takes another gulp of his water—it has to be alcohol getting to him. He’s about to head back to his parent’s table when he suddenly feels an itching on the inside of his left wrist. He scratches his skin harshly and he winces when it’s more painful than a normal scratch.

He glances down at his sleeve, pulling the material back to see what was so painful. He does a double take when he moves his watch, noticing harsh red lines forming on skin. The fuck, he thinks to himself. Jungkook makes the decision to excuse himself to the men’s room to cool the burning off with some water.

Thankfully he’s the only person occupying the room and he quickly turns on the water, running his skin underneath it. The burning subsides after a few moments and as he’s reaching for a towel to dry himself, he drops it to the floor before he can even use it.

While the red marks have gone away, a thin black line has replaced them.

Rose.

He blinks heavily, shaking his head. Is he really that drunk? He takes his nail to scratch at the black and when it doesn’t move, his mouth parts and the tie around his neck feels even more constricting.

“No,” he whispers to himself.

Rose.

It’s still there.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles, “Fuck,” his breathing picks up heavily and he looks at himself in the mirror. His face is pale and his eyes are blown out. Fuck.

Rose.

He moves his watch back over the marking and runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the ends harder than he should. He almost feels tears threatening to fall when he realizes what’s happening. This has to be a sick joke? The universe cannot be doing this—not right now—not after all this fucking time?

As much as his mind is racing, drunk and confusion do not make a good combination, he sees one thing for sure in the back of his brain. You. As this thought, his stomach churns deeply and before he realizes it—he’s spitting up some of his food and alcohol into the toilet.

“Fuck,” he says again wiping the perspiration away from his clammy hands onto his pants. He takes in a deep breath, freshening himself up before he leaves the bathroom with the mission to find one person and one person only.

Once he comes back into the main room, his eyes glance around quickly for a head of silky brown hair and a purple dress. His head looks around rapidly and anyone who saw him probably thought that he looked crazy. He spots Junghyun and Yeri getting another drink at the bar and he swiftly walks over towards them.

“Hyung,” Jungkook speaks quickly, shaking his brother’s shoulder.

“Huh? Jungkook, you okay?” His brother notices how ill Jungkook looks. Face pale, hair messily pushed around, uneasiness in his large eyes.

“Have you seen a girl,” he pauses trying to slow down, “Purple dress, kind of ashy brown hair to here,” he demonstrates the length with his hands. Junghyun looks at Jungkook like he’s crazy. Hell, maybe Jungkook is going crazy.

Junghyun shakes his head, “No I haven’t. What’s up?”

“I may have seen a purple dress going that way,” Yeri points her finger towards the other side of the large room. “Jungkook are you sure you’re okay?”

He doesn’t even give them one more glance before he thanks Yeri quickly, turning on his heels to head that direction. He nearly trips on his feet trying to get across the masses of people congregating. The ballroom has a couple hallways that lead off into other rooms and he decides his luck, checking in and out of the rooms. He’s coming up empty until he stops dead in his tracks, a back clad in purple facing him, talking to another man with blonde hair.

Suddenly, the blonde looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder and she follows. Her eyes meet Jungkook’s and he fills his breath hitching, his stomaching rolling once again.

“Hello?” The blonde asks curiously.

“Hi,” Jungkook steps forward. His hands are buried deep in his dress pants so they can’t see the way they shake with every breath.

“Yoongi, will you get me another drink please?” The girl speaks looking back at the man. He nods, settling not to say anything else as he brushes past Jungkook.

The girl stands awkwardly, her finger rimming an empty wine glass slowly. Jungkook can barely look at her but something is compelling him to. He can’t take his eyes off of her—she’s beautiful. He slowly walks towards her with some hesitation. She finally meets his eyes again and she visibly breathes in deep through her nose, her chest rising.

“Hi,” Jungkook says again.

“Hi,” she says with a low tone. She bites her lip nervously and she suddenly looks around the room—anywhere but him. “This place is really beautiful isn’t it?”

Jungkook follows her lead, eyes glancing around the room too, “Yeah, it is.”

“Your parents know how to put on a party,” she muses with a small laugh. Goddamn, he thinks, she is so beautiful. So, she knows exactly who he is.

“This is nothing compared to some other years,” he gently smiles when her lips turn up, her cheeks getting bigger with her own smile.

A silence falls between the two of them. She sways in her heels trying to relieve the pain in the balls of her feet.

“It’s you isn’t it,” Jungkook speaks first. She looks up at him, still saying silent. “You’re Rose?”

She dips her head, some of her hair falling in her face. She nods slowly, “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers and she almost sounds sad, perhaps broken? “After all this time,” she adds.

She looks at Jungkook like he’s her whole universe. Oh how he wishes he could say the same thing about her—it’s what this beautiful girl deserves. She deserves someone whose heart beats for them and them only. That wasn’t Jungkook—he had you and god how much he wanted to spend his life with you only.

“When did you find out?” He asks keeping his voice low and steady so his nervousness won’t show through.

“When I was fourteen,” she says. His heart sinks even further for this girl. His name had been engraved upon her skin for 8 years.

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to look down at his feet. The tension is there—the tension the universe gives soul bonded people. He feels his tie suffocating him again and he reaches up to loosen it again, to no relief though.

Suddenly, Rose steps forward, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to move it away from his collar.

“Let me help,” she says and he swears his heart stops beating when her delicate fingers touch his. Rose manages to undo his impossibly tight neck tie from his mother, retying it just as fast, but a lot more comfortable for him and his neck. Suddenly, Jungkook is glad you were unable to come to Busan with him.

“Thanks,” he laughs, “It’s been suffocating me all night.”

“I could tell,” she returns a chuckle, her palms resting on his chest. She’s just as nervous as he is—he can see the way she breathes unevenly being this close to her.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says.

“Rose.”  

.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” You ask Jungkook as you step into his apartment. If possible, Jungkook came back with thrice as much stuff as he left with and you wanted to help him unpack.  

“Pretty good,” he says simply, “I think my parents were disappointed you weren’t there,” he chuckles lightly. Jungkook’s roommates were still back home, not coming back until the new year, so you were going to stay with him to keep him company.

“Well, one day I’ll meet them,” your eyes search for his and he seems somewhat off. He hasn’t said much since you’ve picked him up from the train station. His eyes have looked a little lost, unsure of where to look.

“Yeah,” he shrugs off his coat and begins to unzip one of his 3 suitcases. You unzip a second, noticing how different his clothes smell.

“I see your mom did your laundry?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course, what kind of son would I be if I didn’t bring all my laundry for my mom to do?”

Small conversation is said between the two of you as you unpack, fold, and hang up his clothes. You can’t help but notice the luxury men’s wear tags in the pants and shirts you hang up.

“What do your parents do Jungkook?” Your thumb brushes over the thick material of a new coat he received as a gift.

He’s hesitant to speak but he decides to tell you anyways, “My dad is president of a large company back in Busan. You know my mom is an artist,” he says and you recall the days he’s spoke highly of his creative mother.

Ah, you think, now you understand where the wealth comes from.

“I don’t like telling people because I don’t want people to think I’m some spoiled snob,” he laughs at the thought.

“Babe, you’re the farthest thing from that. You know work hard for things you want, what does it matter what anyone else thinks,” you hang the last piece of clothing from his suitcase up and he watches you intently.

He leans against his desk, arms crossed as he watches you carefully.

“Wanna see something I got,” he says clearing his throat as you look him in the eyes. His eyes quickly look away from yours, unable to face you fully just yet. You nod when you notice his eyes light up as he rummages through his duffle bag to pull out a new camera.

“Holy shit,” you admire the piece of technology as he holds it carefully in his hands. “Who got you this?”

“My brother if you could believe it,” he sounds like he doesn’t even believe his brother was capable of gifting him such a nice present.

“Damn,” you mutter, “Have you used it yet?”

He nods, “I played around with it at the beach before I left,” he says looking at your subtle smile. “Here, lemme take a picture of you,” he smiles a little wider.

“What? Jungkook I look disgusting,” you step away from him. Your hair is thrown up on your head, no makeup, and an oversized ratted turtleneck covers your frame.

“Baby come on you’re beautiful,” he pouts while adjusting the lens and other settings. “Please I wanna remember this.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Remember what? The remnants of my illness that’s made me look crusty for days now?”

He laughs at you, “Sure, whatever you wanna call it,” he holds up his camera to see the lighting on you. “Sit down and scoot back,” he commands to you. You do as he says, sitting on his bed and scooting so your back is hilt against the wall.

“Here?”

He nods, “Mhm,” he focuses on adjusting the last of what he needs to before he says, “Smile babe, you’re on camera.”

You give him a glare before your features soften, giving him a small smile as you look directly into the lens. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s through the lens and he feels his chest tighten. He hated this—he was so in love with you he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You were his present and future—he didn’t want anyone else. How could the universe break him like this?

He snaps a couple photos before looking at them in the small frame. A small smile lets loose on his lips as his heart palpitates for you. He feels your eyes watching him closely and you’re unsure why—despite his smile—he seems so sad and so unsure.

Whatever is bothering him, you could only hope that he would open up to you soon and not suppress his feelings.

Jungkook’s only hope right now is cherishing these moments with you because as he has come to learn in the past few days—nothing good ever lasts.

.

Your phone was buzzing and buzzing annoying you to your core as you tried your best to shove your dangly earrings in your ears. You look down at the caller ID and you roll your eyes with a groan.

“Fuck Taehyung we’re coming!” You half yell at your phone that was still buzzing on your desk. Hearing ruckus in your room, Jungkook peeps in.

“You good babe?” He asks taking notice of how your room is practically flipped upside down. Clothes and jewelry are sprung around and the dress you have decided to wear isn’t even zipped yet, your lower back fully exposed to him.

“Yes,” you say finally slipping the plastic backs on your earrings. You look over your shoulder at Jungkook, heat rushing to your face when you realize how good he looks tonight. “Will you zip me up?”

He nods taking a step towards you, his fingertips cold against your skin. He slowly zips the beaded material up your back slowly not wanting to catch any strings. When he’s done, he wraps his arms around your front pulling you close to him.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles into your neck and you keen into his arms, your feet already blistering in your heels.

“You look sexy,” you muse with a giggle. He turns your body around to flush against his front and he quickly leans down to capture your lips. He’s slow and gentle, wanting you to know how much he cherishes you. He’s careful not to put a hand in your hair knowing how frustrated you were trying to fix it right, so he cradles your neck in one of his hands as you lean into him deeper.

You jump slightly in his arms when your phone starts buzzing again. Jungkook steps away from you and you groan loudly again.

“Remind me to kill him when we get in the car,” you punctuate as you grab your bag and the baby blue coat Taehyung gave you.

“Will do,” Jungkook gives you a wink before grasping your hand into his tightly.

New Years Eve was always a fun time in your friend group, especially at your age. Ever since you started university, you and Taehyung had made it tradition to go to one of the fancier bars in your area for the special occasion. Only having to pay an upfront free—it meant an open bar, free music, and a damn good time.

“Goddamn Y/N,” Taehyung says as you’re waiting in line to get in the bar.

“What? Is there something on my face? My teeth?” You panic looking at your best friend.

“No,” he pauses looking at your date up and down, “You really lucked out didn’t you.”

Jungkook suddenly laughs as his comment and you swat Taehyung’s head.

“Hey back off buddy,” you say wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s torso, “He’s mine asshole.”

“And you’re mine,” Jimin eyes Taehyung playfully. Taehyung had already drank half a bottle of champagne in the car ride from your apartment so he was definitely feeling frisky. It was absolutely freezing outside tonight and Jungkook made sure to keep his arms around you as you waited and waited outside.

“What’s going to be your drink of choice tonight Kook?” You look up at your boyfriend who looks so unbelievable handsome you could cry.

“Hmm, I’m thinking whatever will get me very drunk. Perhaps whiskey?”

Your face contorts at the mention of the dark liquor. Too many bad memories with that one.

“Lemme guess,” Jimin says, “You’re going to down about five green tea shots and then switch over to vodka soda with a splash of cranberry juice.”

Your eyes widen, slightly perturbed, “Am I that basic of a bitch?”

Jimin nods once, “Babe I’m a bartender, we can see girls like you coming from a mile away.”

“Ugh, fine you got me. But maybe instead of vodka soda I’ll just do a flat.” Truth is, you hadn’t drank since your sick spell over Christmas and you were more than ready to get drunk.

A few more minutes and you’re in the crowded bar. You stay close to Jungkook, his hand secured around yours as you make your way to the bar. As expected, you order green tea shots and Jungkook lives up to his previous statement—ordering a whiskey sour to start his night.

You’ve never seen this many people here before. It’s loud, hot, and crowded but it’s everything you could want for New Years Eve. Besides, what’s the fun in going out if it’s not going to be a little chaotic?

After a few drinks, Jungkook finds himself relaxing as he dances close to you. He’s happy right here and right now, but he can’t fully let go—his mind occupied of another woman. He hates himself for doing this, but what is he supposed to do? He’s careful around his arms, making sure his watch stays put and he sleeve doesn’t venture too far up just in case.

Your smile is wide and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Sure, it was scary now that you were starting your last semester of college in a week but since you had Jungkook—you felt more secure in whatever life decides to throw at you than ever.

“I love you,” you say to Jungkook. It’s simple but you could tell him every minute of everyday and not get tired of it.  

“I love you more,” he says. He’s honest and he only hopes you can’t see the deep sadness in his eyes. He kisses the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up at the feeling. “Do you want another drink?” He asks.

You nod, “Yes please.”

“Vodka cran?”  

You nod once again, “I’ll be with Taehyung over there.”

Jungkook leaves you behind, walking back towards the bar. If he really was going to try to forget his worries—he was going to need something stronger.

“Two shots of whiskey please,” he says. He’ll get your drink when he’s finished so the ice won’t water it down.

“I didn’t take you for a whiskey guy,” a voice comes from his left and when he looks, he feels his whole world stopping.

“R-Rose?” He blinks, making sure he’s seeing correctly.

“I thought it was you over here,” she smiles asking the bartender for a shot of tequila. “How are you?”

He’s speechless. How? Right now?

“Doing well, how are you?” He asks trying to seem sly. God he could only hope that no one he knew, especially you, saw him right now.

“Same, I’m mentally preparing for my hangover tomorrow,” she laughs before downing her shot quickly.

He smiles, “I feel that,” he downs his first shot. It’s hot and it’s burning his throat. “Listen I’ve been meaning to text you but—“

“Don’t worry about it,” she waves her hand, “I mean what are the odds of us being here together? That’s worth more than a text right?”

He swallows, “Y-you’re right. I didn’t know you lived here.”

She nods, her gaze heavy and somewhat obscene, “I go to the all girls university in the area.”

“Ah, I see,” Jungkook says glancing around. Thankfully the copious amount of people have shielded him from anyone’s view.

“Are you here anyone tonight?” Fuck.

“Just some friends,” he says smoothly. “You?”

“Same. My roommates made me come, but now I’m glad I did,” she smiles brightly and Jungkook can himself falling deep into the hole again. Fuck the fucking universe.

“Me too,” he says before he can catch himself. Her eyes glance down to his lips before she looks back up at him.

“Well, I need to get back to my friends before we get fully separated,” she smiles again, “Come say hi if you see me again,” she winks.

He nods, his eyes wide and mouth dry. “Will do.”

He downs the second shot as she walks away, his eyes unable to rip from her frame. Jungkook was in deep shit—no doubting that. There was only so much longer he could keep up this facade. He was heartbroken to the core and as much as he wanted to be selfish and forget about the name attached to his wrist—that wasn’t plausible. It was a reality he had to face sooner or later.

“Fuck,” he says, ordering your drink before he forgets and another shot of whiskey for the hell of it. There was no getting Rose off his mind now but he could at least try. He knew one thing though—once the clock struck midnight, he was ripping you out of this bar faster than a racehorse.

“Oh my god thank you,” you drunkenly smile up at Jungkook when he comes back with your drink. In your intoxicated state, you don’t notice Jungkook’s demeanor change as much as other people do. Specifically Jimin, who is standing off from your side, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Jungkook looks nervous, tense, and unsure about his surroundings. Jimin was curious about what happened to him in the last five minutes of him being gone.

“Oh shit you guys, it’s almost midnight!” Taehyung yells throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

“What are you gonna wish for?” You gaze up at Jungkook as he throws an arm around your frame protectively.

“Is that a thing babe?” He questions, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course it is!” You say, your expression wide and full of disbelief. “I mean I always do it.”

Jungkook leans down and pecks your forehead, his vision fuzzier now that the 3 shots of whiskey have been through his system, “Well I’ll make a wish then, just for you.”

“You better,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. The clock hits 11:59 PM and the countdown to the new year begins.

Jungkook’s grip tightens around you, afraid that if he lets go you’ll find out his deepest secret and run away from him forever. You lean your head on his chest, unknowing of anything that’s bothering him deep down. You inhale his scent, his laundry and cologne intoxicating you even further.

Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!

You look up at Jungkook with another beautiful smile and he leans down to close the short gap between you two. The cheers around you drown out as you focus on each other. One of your hands pulls him down from the back of his hair closer to you, smiling into the kiss.

You wish for nothing to change—you were happy and had your partner—that’s all you could ever wish for.

Jungkook wishes for things to change—to go back to normal—but he was afriad that there wasn’t going to be a normal for you two ever again.

Jungkook makes love to you that night like you have never experienced. Every kiss, every touch, every breath is so slow and calculated. He thrusts deep and hard into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips. You both are drunk but if anything that makes it all the better. You two are fully relaxed in each other’s arms and it was just you and him in that moment. He makes you come two, three, and by the fourth time you can’t breathe. His hands grip your waist and under your ass pushing himself possibly deeper into you.

You hold his face close to yours as he drowns out your half screams and moans with his lips. When he finally comes after holding back to relish each second of his cock being inside of you, it’s the most glorious orgasm he’s ever had.

“Fuck—“ you cut him off with your lips as he stills inside of you. “I love you,” he breathes out heavily, collapsing on his elbows.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

He kisses your collarbone and around your neck, trying to hold back his tears threatening to fall.

“I love you more,” is the last thing he says that night before you two drift off into sleep. He means every word.

.

University starts back up a couple weeks after New Years. Your final round of classes were starting off great—most of them being bullshit electives. You were going to enjoy your last semester here and you refused to waste yourself away in school work before hitting the “real world.” You didn’t have any classes with Jungkook or Namjoon this semester which was somewhat of a bummer but you would survive.

Jungkook wasn’t doing good to say the least. He was stressed more and more each day. He barely had a good nights sleep in weeks—waking up every few hours thinking about two very different girls in his life. He had begun to converse with Rose over text message so he didn’t seem like a grade-A asshole. Every time he sent or received a text back, his stomach churned and his heart yearned. He couldn’t help himself—this is how the universe works. It was the hardest thing for him to keep a secret like this from you. He hated lying to you and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.

He turned to his photography more than ever in the past few weeks. His hobby slowly becoming his life to distract him from his actual problems. It’s how he found himself early out in the morning, before 7 AM to be exact, shooting the sunrise from a river about ten minutes from his apartment. He was playing with his new toy and lenses that Junghyun had gifted him, loving the camera the more shots he snapped. He didn’t have class until noon and he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.

It was quiet and peaceful. He loved the countryside and this spot reminded him of back home. It was freezing to say the least and he quickly threw on his gloves before he went through his recent captures.

“Jungkook?” His name leaves a female and his chest twists—recognizing who it is immediately. He looks away from his camera, Rose approaching him from his right. She’s wearing leggings and a thick jacket with running shoes.

“H-hey,” he drops his camera some, “What are you doing up this early?” He asks as she stops in front of him.

“I could ask the same to you,” she smiles breathing heavily. She looks down at his camera before looking back up at his face, “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go on a run to clear my head.”

He nods slowly, “The best way to clear your head indeed,” he muses. “Same though, to answer your question. Couldn’t sleep and I figured I would come takes some pictures.”

She hesitates before asking her next question, “Can I see?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately, looking down at his camera nervously.

“O-only if you want to though,” she adds picking up on his secluded frame.

His eyes soften and his shoulders drop, “No, it’s fine, here.” He clicks around the buttons to bring up the most recent pictures of the sunrise, the river, and it’s reflection.

“Wow,” Rose whispers, smoke following her words as they hit the cold air as he clicks through each one, “These are great Jungkook.”

He smiles shyly, glancing down her frame, “Thanks.” She’s shorter than you are, her head barely hitting his shoulder.

“Have you been taking pictures for long?” She looks up at him when he’s done showing the pictures.

“A few years now,” he says, “It’s my favorite thing to do with my free time.”

“Well from what I can see you’re really talented,” she smiles, “You should do it professionally.”

He blushes, “A man can only wish,” he laughs, fog coming from his lips too.

A silence falls between the two of them. Jungkook isn’t sure what to do and Rose looks around the area, only a handful of people in the surrounding vicinity.

“Hey I was about to go to this café down the street, wanna come with?” She asks. Jungkook is taken aback by her offer. He notices a sadness behind her eyes and he bites the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The café is small and quiet. It smells of espresso and pastries. Jungkook orders himself a coffee with cream and sugar while Rose decides to get some type of iced drink.

“It’s below freezing and you’re drinking iced coffee?” He quirks a brow at her as they sit down beside the main window.

She shrugs, “I love iced coffee more than I love myself.”

He smiles, sipping on his hot coffee slowly not wanting to burn his tongue. Another silence falls between them and Jungkook takes this time to study her more. She’s petite and gorgeous. She’s the type of girl he grew up crushing over. In the few conversations they’ve had,  he knows they are very much alike. Each day talking to her and seeing her pop up in random places in his life proved to him this wasn’t a fluke. Rose was his soulmate and Jungkook was hers. That’s the fucking reality and it fucking sucks for him. He could see himself falling for Rose quicker than anyone else before—that’s what is supposed to happen anyways. But he had you—he didn’t want anyone else. You were his end all be all, not Rose.

“Jungkook,” she speaks lowly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Are you seeing someone right now?”

Her question makes his heart rate speed up.

“W-what?” His mouth is dry despite the coffee, “H-how—?”

“One of my friends on New Years saw you leave with a girl,” her voice breaks off. Shit.

“I,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “It’s complicated.”

Complicated?! He was in a committed relationship that was approaching 6 months!

“I’d rather you tell me the truth than lie Jungkook,” she says. “We’re soulmates, we’re supposed to open up to each other.”

He furrows his eyebrows deeply, “It’s not that easy Rose. I just met you almost month ago.”

His words cut her deep but she stands her ground.

“I get that but,” she pauses, “I just don’t want you and whoever you’re seeing to be hurt. I’m sure you knows what happens when—“

“Yes. I know,” he says. He’s already seen it—you’ve already experienced it. The constant up and down sickness from you was just one side effect of a bonded soul that stays with one who isn’t bonded to them.

“Do you love her?” She asks.

“With everything in me,” he answers honestly. She looks away from her soulmate, unsure of how to feel. She had been waiting for him for 8 years. She was expecting her happy ever after. The last thing she thought would happen is that her soulmate would be in love with someone else. Processing this information was going to difficult for her and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Jungkook was going through right now.

“Have you told her?”

He shakes his head slowly, “No.”

She purses her lips, squeezing her cup a little too hard, “I’m not telling you how to go about this Jungkook, but if you really loved her, why are you continuing to hurt her?”  

.

“Taehyung we have to talk right now,” Jimin says into his phone.

“Baby it’s not even 8 AM,” Taehyung’s morning voice is deeper than his actual voice.

“No—like Taehyung it’s urgent.”

Taehyung is beginning to worry what could possibly be going on.

“Is everything okay?” He asks sitting up in his bed, pushing the hair from his face.

“No,” he says, “Not at all.”

Jimin hangs up the phone and makes his way to Taehyung’s apartment. He half jogs, unable to keep up with his feet. Jimin’s mind is racing as he begins to piece his suspicions together.

“Good morning,” Jimin enters the apartment, a shiver going down his back as he steps into the significantly warmer apartment. Jimin glances around the apartment, his eyes frantic. “Y/N isn’t here, is she?”

Taehyung watches his boyfriend with tired eyes like a hawk. “No, why would she be here?”

Jimin nods quickly, “When did she first get sick?”

“Whoa, Jimin what’s going on?” Taehyung holds his hands up, his brain still not fully functioning.

“Just answer the damn question.”

“Uh, Christmas morning, early in the morning.”

“And has she been sick since then?”

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, “Um, she mentioned being sick the day after New Years. Jimin this is stupid, she was hungover both days—“

“Do you know who this girl is?” Jimin pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture of Jungkook and a girl neither of them knew sitting at a small cafe across from each other.

“Where did you get this?” Taehyung asks taking his phone to zoom in on the pic.

“This morning,” he says, “I went to the gym and saw those two together.”

“What does this mean? Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?!” Taehyung feels himself begin to get angry, handing the phone back to Jimin.

“Well according to Hoseok, the bartender from New Years I sometimes see around asked who the girl Jungkook was cuddled up to at the bar on New Years… and it wasn’t Y/N.”

Taehyung’s face clenches, “W-what? I don’t understand what you’re getting at Jimin. Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?” He asks again.

“Taehyung, don’t you get it?” Jimin asks running a hand through his hair, “I study this stuff for fucksakes! This,” he holds up his phone of the picture again, “She’s Jungkook’s soulmate, Tae.”

His mouth parts open, “H-how are you so sure?”

“I don’t know the full story but I’m guessing a name came up on Jungkook over Christmas and destiny brought them together after being apart for so long…”

“A name? Jimin, Jungkook is 22 like Y/N… they don’t—“

“Late bloomers—it’s rare, but it happens Taehyung.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes out, fully awake now, “So Jungkook has a soulmate and hasn’t told Y/N I’m assuming.”

Jimin nods, “I’m sure of it. She needs to know Taehyung—it’ll only get worse for her the longer Jungkook stays with her,” his voice trails off. Jimin cared for you as much as anyone close to you and he knew the consequences of tangoing with someone else who was soul bonded.

“I’m gonna kill Jungkook,” Taehyung grips his hair harshly, “When should we tell her?”

Jimin hesitates but speaking after thinking about what could happen to you the more Jungkook hides his secret, “The sooner the better.”

.

“Babe I don’t know how to do this,” you whine as you stares at a knife and a half open salmon. Jungkook laughs at your attempt to filet the fish for your dinner together.

“It’s not that hard Y/N,” he says pointedly, coming to aid your aid. In one motion, Jungkook manages to remove the skin from the fish.

You roll your eyes at him, “Why are you so fucking good at everything?”

“I’m just that talented,” he gives you a side eye before throwing the fish into the marinade. “Are you sure you want to salmon by the way? I know you’re still not feeling the best.”

“Jungkook it’s fine—I’m not going to get sick from this,” you hoped at least, “Plus you love it and I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.”

It was true—today marked your sixth months with Jungkook. January was brutally cold and quickly passed. Now the beginning of February wasn’t any warmer, but it did mark that spring was coming soon.

You couldn’t believe you had been with Jungkook for sixth months. Six months had come and gone like that. It was odd being in a committed relationship for this long when two people weren’t soulmates—but frankly, you were sure Jungkook was your soulmate so it didn’t really matter anyways.

As Jungkook watched you whip up some rice and veggies to go on the side, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guiltier than fuck. It had just been over a month since he meet Rose and to put it shortly—the universe was fucking trying it. No matter where he went, she always seemed to be there. They texted at least a few times everyday, obviously keeping it to himself. Rose was being patient, as she was trying her best to understand Jungkook’s situation, though he had a gut feeling she didn’t want to wait around much longer for him. Time was running out for Jungkook and it was running out faster than he ever wished it do be.  

You and Jungkook finish and eat dinner together on the couch. Sure he had a small dining room table but it was tradition for the two of you to cuddle up on the couch together for your meals. Plus, his roommates weren’t home so you may as well make yourself comfy.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook when he goes silent for a few moments. As much as you loved Jungkook, you knew something had been bothering him for weeks that he hadn’t opened up to you about. If it was something he really wanted to open up with you about, he would have already and you felt it wasn’t your place to prod. When he was ready, he would be ready you suppose.

“Hm?” his doe eyes look into yours before glancing away, “Nothing much… I just can’t believe we’re graduating in three months,” he laughs shaking his head in disbelief.

You agreed with him, “Crazy right… are you scared?”

He looks down at your legs that are draped across his, “Yeah, I am.”

A look falls on his face that you can’t read. He’s blank on the outside but you’re sure deep down whatever he’s thinking about is torturing him.

“Jungkook,” you nudge him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks with a grimace.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just feel like something has been bothering you.”

He bows his head and you’re sure he’s about to be fully honest with you until he says, “I’m just stressed babe.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Stressed you can believe—but what? School? Family? Us?

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you Jungkook,” you say. You can visibly see his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.

“If I wanted you to know don’t you think I would fucking tell you Y/N?” he snaps and it makes you jump in your position, “Don’t be so goddamn nosy if it’s none of your business.”

Jungkook stands up from the couch and your mouth parts at his words. Not only are you taken aback, but you can’t believe Jungkook actually spoke to you like that.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” you stand up and make your way towards him. He’s lean against the counter, his head down. “Jungkook, hey, what the fuck?” you ask him, beginning to get more and more frustrated as each second passes.

He lifts his head to look at you, a pained expression on his features, “Look I’m sorry—“

He’s cut off by heavy knocks on your door. Neither of were expecting anyone and if it was his roommates, they would have just used their keys. Your eyes follow Jungkook when he goes and opens the door. What happens next goes by so fast you weren’t even sure it happened until Jungkook is stumbling backwards, a groan emitting from his lips.

“Taehyung?!” you nearly scream rushing over to Jungkook, “What the fuck?! What are you doing?!” Taehyung walks into the apartment with Jimin close behind him.

“Ow, fuck man,” Jungkook holds his cheek in pain. Taehyung didn’t look like he had much power but he just proved himself wrong.

“Have you told her yet,” Taehyung speaks, looking straight at Jungkook, “Or are you still lying to her?”

You look between the two of them, your mind racing and confused.

“Told me what? Taehyung what the fuck are you doing, are you crazy?!” you yell at him again.

Jungkook and Taehyung continue to glare at each other. Jungkook notices Jimin staring too and he knows—it’s over.

“Not right now Taehyung,” Jungkook says angrily. You whip your head over Jungkook again. What’s going on?!

“Told me what?” you ask looking back over at Taehyung and then Jungkook again, “Told me what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him.

“Y/N,” Jungkook says, his eyes full of a wave of sadness. Your heart begins to race, your hands clammy and you feel like you might get sick again.

“What’s going on Jungkook?” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You know something isn’t right, otherwise this would not be happening right now.

“I was gonna tell you,” Jungkook’s voice breaks off as he comes closer to you, taking your hands in his, “I just didn’t know how.”

You feel a tear come down your face, “Baby what’s happening?”

“Hurry the fuck up,” Taehyung spits, “We don’t have all night.”

“Taehyung,” Jimin scolds him from behind.

Jungkook doesn’t break his gaze with you as he lets go of your hands. He pulls the sleeve of his left sweatshirt, moving his silver watch back in the process. When your eyes fall onto it—the name—it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest. Your breathing picks up and you look back into Jungkook’s eyes.

You shake your head, “No, no, no,” you mumble, “This is a joke right? This has to be a fucking joke,” the tears are now falling in rhythmic streams down your face.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook says, tears now welling his eyes eyes, “Y/N I love you so much—“

“How long have you known?” you step away from him, feeling light headed and queazy. He doesn’t answer until you press again. “How long have you fucking known Jungkook?!”

“Over a month,” his voice drops and you don’t ever think you’ve felt the sharp pains shooting in your chest until now.

“Y/N,” Jimin speaks this time, “I think you should come with us.”

“You’ve been lying to me all this time?” you ignore Jimin, your voice cracking on the edges.

“Y/N, no baby please,” he steps towards you, his hands finding your face, “I-I didn’t know what to d-do. I l-love you and you only you, nothing will ever change that,” Jungkook pleads. You shake your head, pushing him away from you.

“It changes everything Jungkook!” you yell at him, furiously wiping the tears from your face, “You’ve known about your soulmate for a goddamn month and you thought you could hide that from me?! Are you kidding me Jungkook?!”

Jungkook pulls at the roots of his hair, glancing over to Taehyung and Jimin, “I’m sorry Y/N,” he repeats, “W-we can do something about this, there has to be—“

“No,” you spit, “No, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore Jungkook,” you pause, glancing down at your hands, “There’s no way around this and you lied to me.”

“Y/N, please,” Jungkook’s heart breaks all over again as he watches you gather your things, shoving your feet into your shoes.

“Take this,” you rip the ring that suddenly didn’t mean anything to you anymore off your finger, shoving it into Jungkook’s palm. He stares at the jewelry, his eyes watery and blurry.

“Come on,” Taehyung says holding out his arm for you. With one last glance at Jungkook, you turn on your feet and walk out of his apartment. Jimin shuts the door behind of you two and you don’t even make it to their car when you break down into a full sob, Taehyung wrapping his arms around you protectively. You didn’t just walk out of Jungkook’s apartment—you’ve walked out of his life too.

SPRING

Spring was always your favorite season. The blossoming of trees and flowers always seemed to cheer up your mood. More sunlight meant more happiness and less seasonal depression. The warming weather was always a nice touch after cruel and harsh winters. This year though, you thought no one could hate Spring as much as you did.

Everyday was new challenge for you. When you and Jungkook first broke up—your feelings were indescribable. The mental and physical chest pains you experienced from your heartbreak were sure the worst you could ever have. You were a broken soul—a soul not meant for someone who you loved more than life itself sometimes.  

It was hard doing simple things—getting out of bed, doing your laundry, going to class, eating meals—it was all such a burden to you. You cried and cried and cried until you had no more tears left. Sleep was even worse as it meant your unconscious state always drifted into thoughts of Jungkook. There was the time frame where Jungkook called you, left messages and voicemails, tried to contact you through Taehyung and others—but it was all the more painful. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to rid any trace of him from your phone, afraid that you might forget what he looked or sounded like.

No one had ever seen you in such a broken state. You thought you’re mind couldn’t drift into worse territory until one night, you thought about Jungkook and his soulmate—whoever she was. You thought about him loving her, making love to her, taking pictures of her, marrying her, having kids with her, looking at her the way he looked at you—it completely shattered you even more. You don’t remember how much you drank that night. One shot of vodka? Two? Seven? Glasses of wine? It didn’t matter you just needed to forget.

It was when Taehyung found you that night passed out over your toilet, is when he recommended seeing someone. At first, your idea of going to a therapist over a failed relationship seemed silly. But Taehyung made sure that you and Jungkook were more than a college fling—it was real and it was going to take a lot of time to get over.

Your therapist was a nice woman, upper forties maybe, slim face and blonde hair. Your first couple sessions with her didn’t go as smooth as you wished for. She asked you hard questions that you weren’t willing to answer. The third session you went to, you broke down in front of a stranger becoming the most vulnerable you’d ever been.

She knew you loved Jungkook and he loved you just as deeply too. She explained soul-bonding more in depth to you that day. The universe has a reason why it pairs two souls together and why some people are left bare. It’s a phenomenon that’s barely studied but she suspects it’s more common than people want to believe. There’s also a process called soul-breaking, that is rare too but the consequences can bare far greater risks so majority of the people stay away from it.

Overall, you grew up your whole life thinking something was wrong with you. You thought you were a glitch because you didn’t receive a name on your body at 18. But if anything, meeting with your therapist made you realize that nothing was wrong with you. You live a healthy life, have a family, have friends, and you fell in love with someone—and all that is okay.

“I do believe if two people are meant to be together, they will be, someway or somehow,” she said to you one day.

Nearly two months after your break up and one month left until graduation—it was still hard. You had been prescribed antidepressants for a few weeks now and while it did numb your pain for the most part, there were times when thinking about Jungkook just made you want to curl into a ball and forget about your tasks for that day. You told yourself you needed to stop doing that though—you had to be strong otherwise you couldn’t move forward.

“Here you go,” Taehyung plops down a cup of steaming coffee and a bagel in front of you. Your stomach growls at the site.

“Thank you,” you give him a smile, “I’m starved.”

“I bet, you’ve been writing that paper for fucking hours,” he says digging into his own bagel with salmon and cream cheese. You should mention you hated salmon too now.

Taehyung was the greatest friend anyone could have, that you were sure of. Everyday, he called or texted to check in on you. He brought you food to make sure you were eating. Him and Jimin would invite you to the movies or restaurants with them. You refrained from going out to bars with them, too afraid you might run into the wrong people. Nonetheless, without Taehyung by your side, you were sure these past two months would have been much more difficult.

“I got my cap and gown in the mail,” he sings songs scrolling through his phone.

“Jesus Christ Tae, can you believe we’re graduating college?”

He laughs, “I said the same thing when we graduated high school,” he glances at you, “Look at us now bitches!” he holds his arms out dramatically.

You laugh at him, chewing on your food slowly. If there was one positive about being alone the past two months, it meant your illness had gone away completely. Your therapist explained how illnesses of different forms can plague people who play a role in betraying a soul-bonded person. Though you already knew that from your project last semester.

“Did you ever hear back from that company?” Taehyung asks you as you mule over in small conversation.

“Uh yeah,” you smile shyly, playing with the ends of your hair.

“Welllll?”

“I got an offer, if I want it,” your smile widens even more. Taehyung’s mouth drops open before it melts into his signature boxy smile.

“Wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N that’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” you look away from him, heating rushing to your cheeks. It was an exciting opportunity and you felt this was the path for you.

“But wait hold on,” he pauses, “Does this mean… you’re moving? To New York City?”

There’s the bombshell you haven’t dropped on many people yet. New York City. It was always a dream of yours to possibly live there one day. And now with nothing holding you back here, when you applied for the company and they asked a preferred location—you said fuck it.

“Yeah, later in the summer,” your voice is low. Taehyung’s shoulders drop, his happy mood diminishing ever so slightly.

“New York…” he ticks, “Well I’ve always wanted to go there so I’ll have to visit once or five times a year.”

You nod giving him a short wink, focusing on the rest of you coffee and food. Slowly but surely, you were getting better. You knew that your future days would be filled with five steps forward, two steps back but it was the natural process. Once you graduated and moved onto to bigger and better things—you’ll understand that this chapter, while thick and important, was only just a chapter. You have another one already waiting at the starting line to begin.

.

Jungkook was numb—literally numb as a needle digs in and out of skin, inking a flower onto his forearm. He had this one for awhile, but it still needed the little details to perfect the tattoo to his liking. His first tattoos, the scattered pieces on his hands were the most painful. However, now as he has a good amount of ink on his arm all the way to his shoulder, the pain isn’t there that much. He almost likes the stinging sensation as it gives him something to focus on rather than his intrusive thoughts.

The past few months haven’t been easy on him. Watching you walk away from him hit him harder than when Rose’s name showed up on his skin. And he just let you. Sure, he called and texted and persisted as much as he could but he knew he should have done more. He should have explained in more depth why he did what he did. Yes, it was because he loved you with every fiber of his being, but he genuinely didn’t care if he was meant for someone else. He wanted to be with you despite the situation present. There was surely something he could do to make it right but you were long gone from his life. He was stuck in a hole and he didn’t know how to get out.

Jungkook and Rose saw each other more frequently after his break up. She was so kind and so patient with him, he knew she deserved so much more. She never rushed anything with him, always waiting for his moves. The first time he kissed her, there was tingling deep in his chest. As great as kissing Rose was, she could never compare to you. It was hard and confusing for him to understand. He’s heard all his life—when soulmates cross paths and become intimate with each other, their whole world begins to revolve around them. That wasn’t the case though. As much as he was being pulled in by Rose, he was being pulled into a completely different direction. That wasn’t how bonded souls worked, he knew that much.

“You’re not very talkative today,” his tattooist comments as she wipes away the leftover ink on his arms. Jungkook always preferred a female to do his tattoos as they seem to have more control and a gentler grip.

“Just a lot on my mind,” he shrugs turning his head towards the tattoo needle.

“Women issues?” she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Is it that obvious?” he half laughs.

“My job requires a lot of listening and giving advice,” she says, “I know a damsel in distress when I see one.”

He doesn’t say anything as he watches the way she furrows her eyebrows, getting closer to his skin to add the finishing touches.

“Are you still with, Y/N? Was it?” she then asks. The mention of your name sends his face pale. How many months had it been since he last saw you or mentioned you? One, two, three? All of his days blended together so he’s lost track of time.

He shakes his head slowly, “No.”

She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Really? I thought you were gonna marry her?”

He bites down on his bottom lip to hold down his emotions before saying, “That was the plan until the universe decided to throw me bullshit.”

She’s never heard Jungkook sound angry. He’s always been very polite and an overall happy person. Jungkook felt he had a right to be angry and resentful. Unfortunately, that anger and resentment was sometimes projected onto those people around him. His roommates had to walk on eggshells around him now, afraid he might fully break if they said one wrong thing to him.

“When did this happen?” she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“A few months back, around Christmas.”

“Have you met them yet? Your partner?” she pauses when she notices Jungkook’s jaw clenching as he’s staring at the ceiling now, “You don’t have to say anything if you’re uncomfortable. I just like to think I’m good at giving advice, is all.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he contemplates elaborating but does so anyways, “But it’s not this big grand affair that I was told about my whole life. She’s amazing and just my type, but… she’s not her. I like her a lot, but I don’t get the same fiery feeling I had with Y/N.”

“Hm,” she muses, putting down the tattoo gun, “You’re done,” she gives a small smile at him. He holds up his arm to inspect the new ink.

“Thanks, it looks great,” he gives her a small smile as she begins the aftercare process of petroleum jelly and a bandage.

“Can I see your mark?” she asks. He nods before shimmying his watch down his arm, revealing Rose’s name in thin cursive. The mark itself is still very much there, but recently it’s begun to fade and he wasn’t sure why.

“Sorry if I’m giving you too much information,” he laughs feeling slightly awkward as she inspects the name.

“It’s fine, I’m the one that asked,” she chuckles again before she sits back in her chair and begins to lift her own sleeve up. He’s confused as to what’s she doing but when she lays out her hand, he sees it. “This showed up when I was nineteen,” he reads the name that’s barely visible anymore—almost looking like a scar.

“Why’s it not dark anymore?” he asks.

“The same reason yours is fading too,” she looks back at his wrist.

“What do you mean fading?” so he wasn’t crazy—it was actually fading.

“It’s what happens when someone’s heart belongs to someone else,” she says, “I don’t know how to explain it but it occurs more than you think.”

She wraps up Jungkook’s forearm and he’s more confused than ever.

“The world is so fucked up,” he comments closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Heard that,” she nods in agreement, “Come on, I’ll ring you up.”

That day into the tattoo shop was a good day for him. It felt nice to open up about his situation to someone who seemingly understood what he was going through. Yes, the world was fucked up but so was everyone living in it. He didn’t understand the full meaning of his mark fading but he knew in the long run, he would deal with whatever was thrown at him. He had to otherwise he was going to live a long, miserable life. Besides, he knows that you would want him to be happy even though you probably hated him for what he did. He wants the same for you because at the end of the day, if he knew you were happy—he would be too.

. The smile on your face as you threw your cap into the air was probably the biggest and most genuine smile you’ve put on for months. The cheers and clapping from everyone in the room drowned out any tears that formed in your eyes. Of course you were happy to be done with university, but it was very bittersweet. The last four years of your life have been the best and worst possible. Everything you’ve learned here, you were sure would live with you for the rest of your life.

You find your parents and younger sister after the ceremony. The hug with your dad is the best you’ve had in a long time. He squeezes you tight, picking you up slightly.

“Gah, we’re so proud of you Y/N,” your mom dabs the inner corners of her eyes as she watches the seen unfold.

“I can’t believe my baby is graduated,” your dad pulls away, ruffling your hair a bit.

“Hey! Stop I spent time on this,” you step away from him, smoothing down your roots.

“Does this mean we get to go to New York now?” your big sister, Mia asks your parents. She’s pulls you into a hug which you exhale deeply in return. You didn’t get to see your sister as much as you wished, but growing up she was your rock. She was the best role model you could have asked for.

“Of course,” you say, “Only if you bring me bags and bags of those honey butter chips.”

“Anything you want we can bring it, or ship it!” your mom nods enthusiastically.

“What about me?” you turn around at the voice of Taehyung, throwing your arms around him.

“Holy shit Taehyung we’ve done it!” you exclaim. Your parents give you a slide on your language in front of them, understanding the circumstance.

“Mia! What’s up!?,” Taehyung pokes your sister on the shoulder before giving her a quick hug. He holds up his diploma and smiles, “Four years and thousands upon thousands of dollars later, we’ve made it.”

“Do you still wanna go downtown? Grab some dinner?” you ask your parents and they nod excitedly.

“Definitely—you choose wherever,” your father smiles. “Taehyung, you and Jimin are welcome to come if you don’t have any plans.”

“Oh we will definitely be there,” he smiles, “Just text me where you guys are going. I gotta go find the devil and my parents through all this mess. See you later!”

Later ended up being at a nicer restaurant downtown that you had never been to—too broke as a college student to ever think about coming here for dinner. You mulled over conversation with glasses of wine and good food, Taehyung being the star of the dinner table. Jimin smiled lovingly at his partner, slightly jealous that you and Taehyung were now finished with school. He’s got another year left in his master’s program so he’ll be graduated this time next year.

When you’re finally done with dinner, you part with your parents and sister for the evening outside the restaurant when you run into an all familiar face.

“Y/N?”

You turn to the source, “Namjoon?” a smile spreads over your face and you quickly make your way to him and give him a squeeze.

“Congrats!” he smiles when you pull away, looking back over your shoulder.

“You too, I can’t believe we’re done,” you laugh taking in his attire. He’s dressed in a nice button down and dress pants, glasses resting on his face looking dapper as ever. “Oh this is my family,” you introduce the them.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles, “This is Kaya,” he smiles and you didn’t even realize he had company with him. You introduce yourselves to each other and she’s got to be one of the most beautiful girls you’ve met. They look damn good together.

“Nice to meet you,” you return your own smile.

“Is dinner here good?” he asks all of you. Everyone agrees in response and he looks over to Kaya, “Well, it was good to meet you all. Let’s catch up one day? You’re gonna be around in the city right?”

“A city yes,” Mia interjects crossing her arms, slightly envious of you, “Not this one, but New York City.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows at you, “Wow, big girl things huh?”

You laugh repeating his words, “Big girl things.”

Namjoon and Kaya leave into the bustling restaurant after some finals words and you’re finally parting ways with your family. You mom and dad give you another bone crushing hug before they have to go back home. Mia looks at you with a sadness in her eyes and you furrow your eyebrows at her.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she hides herself in her shell.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she pouts, slumping her shoulders.

“I still have a few more months home,” you give her a smile, “And I promise you can visit me and I’ll come back as much as I can.”

“Promise?” she holds up her pinky. You link your pinkies together before nodding your head.

You bid your farewell’s to your family one last time before you’re left alone with Jimin and Taehyung.

“Your sister is funny,” Jimin comments as you begin to walk in the opposite direction of them. Your heels were absolutely killing your feet and you were tempted to take them off but thinking about the dirt and grim on the street made you think otherwise.

“She’s sweet on the outside but damn she can be a handful,” you laugh.

“She’s almost twenty five babe, about to hit her first mid-life crisis what do you expect?” Taehyung says.

Minuscule conversation occurs between the three of you before they have to part ways too. Taehyung and Jimin were meeting up with Taehyung’s parents at a bar just outside the city to celebrate. The sun was now setting, the air warm and sticky as you hugged them off. You were walking back to the parking garage that you had your car when something catches your eye on the way. Downtown was filled with bars, restaurants, boutiques and what nots, but you’ve never seen this before. It was an art studio of sorts, pictures—digital and art canvases—hanging from the windows.

You stared at the plexiglass, a sense of familiarity crossing your mind the longer you stared at the blown up photographs. You take a peak at the hours listed on the door and see that they don’t close for another twenty minutes or so. Curiosity getting the best of you, you swing open the door, silence engulfing you as you step in.

Your heels clink against the hardwood, glancing around the space. It’s quite spacious, pictures lining the walls up and down all the way to the back. A few art pieces are strayed in the middle of the floor. You walk slowly around the gallery, admiring the painted canvases and shots of various things. You pick up there’s different artists and photographs displaying their works and when you get towards the back left corner of the place, you stop in your tracks.

A gallery of scenic pictures ranging from clouds, to the sea, to the cityscapes, and more hang beautifully in thin frames. Something twists inside you as you feel deep down that you’ve seen some of these before you just cannot put your finger on it. It’s when you see a picture to the farthest right when you feel yourself skipping a breath. Your mouth parts when you realize what it it—or who it is. It’s you. It’s black and white film developed, the side of your face looking off into the distance with trees behind you. Your mind flashes back to that day in the park—with Jungkook—a small picnic he set up when you first got together.

“Y/N?” you whip around at the sound of your name.

“J-Jungkook?” his name leaves your lips instantly. He’s emerged from a back room stopping dead in his tracks. You’re speechless. He looks so good—better than you remember. His hair a little longer with blonde tips, a white button up, sleeves rolled up with black slacks that he fills out perfectly.

“H-hey,” he speaks first. His eyes trailing up and down your body quickly. You subconsciously glance down at your frame, the white dress and heels you’re wearing hoping to match how he good looks. “What are you doing here?”

“I—“ you pause looking back at the pictures, “I was just passing by and was curious, I didn’t know this place existed.”

Slowly, he steps closer to you shoving his hands in his pockets. His ears are red and he can’t believe that you’re here, looking at his favorite picture he ever took of you.

“It just opened up recently,” he says getting closer to you, though leaving a considerable amount of space between you two. “I started selling some of my pieces through here,” he explains.

“That’s great Jungkook,” you give him a small smile to hide the hurt you’re actually feeling. It’s been months and suddenly all of your progress seems to have backtracked. He was so beautiful—the most perfect man you have ever met—and he’s standing here before you again. Jungkook can’t believe his eyes either—you’re here, feet away from him, something he thought he’d never see anymore.

“How are you doing?” he asks, unable to take his off you. You can feel him staring holes into you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.

“I’m good, you?” you continuously stare at his photos, feeling self conscious the more you stand in his presence.

“I’m okay,” better now that you’re here, is what he wants to say, but he refrains. “You look good,” he says and you look over and up at him, meeting his eye contact.

“You too,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to his wrist, not even realizing what you’re doing. His watch still there, hasn’t moved since the last time you saw him. You feel a tingle in your fingertips and chest, unable to hide your awkwardness.

“Y/N,” he stops himself so you’ll look at him again. Fuck, he loves it when you look at him like that. “Would you want to get some coffee one day? Or something like that?” his words are brave and you can’t believe he said them.

As much as you know you shouldn’t—that you might be setting yourself up for further hurt—something between the two makes you say otherwise. Besides, you’ve been hurt enough, what’s a little more going to do?

You slowly with a small smile, “What about right now? A-are you free?”

He glances at his photos with a small smile in return before glancing back to you, his shoulders slumping as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

“Yeah… yeah I’m free.”

#goldenclosetnet #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook oneshot #soulmate au #college au #jeon jungkook

[shoutogepi]

Taking Care of Their Drunk S/O After a Girls’ Night Out

with Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou 

genre : [ ☀︎ ]  fluff!! & a tiny bitta steam~

hc prompt : how would he take care of you if you come home wasted after a girls’ night out?

author’s note : this is my first time writing headcanons!! idk if this is good hc material but lemme know what you think! :) **gif not mine!!

bakugou:

first of all, blasty is annoyed that you’re going out and ditching his elderly ass at home. it’s a wednesday night so who in their right mind would be going to the club?? sure it’s your close friend’s birthday but they couldn’t just push the celebration to the weekend like a normal person?

sure you have work tomorrow but you’re young enough and it’s your friend’s birthday, they just went through a breakup so you just wanna be there for them, physically and emotionally. and bakugou gets that, but he’s still gonna be crabby about it cuz he usually drags you into bed at like ten pm.

more importantly, he likes to have you tucked up in his arms, nose in your hair and tbh your ass on his crotch. it’s just so much easier to fall asleep knowing you’re safe and there with him, and even though he complains about it, the sound of your gentle snores really lull him into slumber.

therefore he has a hard time falling asleep just because you’re not with him, but then the fact that he’s in his large bed and you’re out and about, looking killer in that sexy clubbing number... he’s gnashing his teeth and twisting in the sheets no doubt. knowing you’re most likely very far from sober doesn't really help either. and just thinking of all the creeps that’re probably eyeing up every inch of skin, every curve hugged perfectly by that black sleek dress he usually loves but really despises right now… ugh, he just can’t sleep with his blood boiling like this.

so of course he’s still awake, very agitated may i add, when scratching noises at the door start at two thirty in the morning.

you’re pathetically attempting to open the front door, but the key to the apartment is almost identical to the lobby key and then… the elevator key is there too and oh my goshhh the mailbox key is so small it’s hilarious!! like it’s a baby or something and idk you’re just vibing, laughing at the mini object drunk off your ass.

and a disgruntled katsuki swings the door wide open while you’re giggling at your fucking keychain like an idiot.

caught like a deer in headlights, your expression actually makes his frown melt into an amused smirk, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. “hey dopey, what’s so funny?”

shaking off the embarrassment, you throw your arms into the air and close your eyes, a great big grin on your lips as you loudly cheer his name.

katsuki has a huge weak spot for you and you just look so genuinely happy to see him that he doesn’t bother to make fun of you further, he just slips an arm around your waist and gathers you inside.

he asks how your night was while he bends down to take off your shoes, instructing you to lean on the door for support because you’re all wobbly and clearly not capable of standing upright on your own. god, how did you even make it back by yourself in one piece?

once the shoes are off, he scoops you up like you weigh nothing. years of training have paid off, i mean, his biceps are probably the same circumference as your skull so… it makes sense that he’s able to carry you so easily but it still blows your mind every time he does it.

sets you on the edge of the bed, kissing your forehead when you ask if he’s always had such sparkly eyes. oh, how they shine in the moonlight. lmao you’re a cheesy drunk. he shakes it off with the classic bakugou tch but you know deep down he loves it.

he takes off your constrictive clothing so all you’re left in is your underwear, and yeah his eyes linger because you’re literally perfect to him. but it’s like three am now and he just wants to get you ready for bed, so he puts one of his ground zero shirts on you because he doesn’t trust himself to not escalate the situation with you sitting naked in front of him like that.

has you sit on the sink counter in the bathroom while he hands you your toothbrush, toothpaste already squeezed out and bristles wettened. as you very sloppily brush your teeth, complaining about how the mint flavor is “too spicy”, he’s busy getting out the makeup remover and wipes.

he watches you do your little routine every night so he’s well versed in what to do. he ties your hair back and you’re surprised, like, how does he know how to tie a girl’s hair?? you figure it’s from past experience so you let him know your thoughts.

he’s red from ear to ear with blush, and he adamantly explains that “it’s not that hard to do, smartass, i didn’t learn from that.”

is all pouty and grumbly as he swipes the cotton pad across your face but his touch is sweet and so careful, loving. you lean into him like a cat, and he gets even redder because fuck you’re really cute.

after you’re done brushing your teeth, katsuki hands you a glass of water and tells you to drink it, or else you’re not getting any cuddles tonight.

“slow down dopey— i didn’t mean all in one go!”

he puts on your skincare stuff too, and he even rubs it into your skin in the right direction and pressure.

you just kinda sit there and then suddenly you’re tearing up because your man is so considerate ?? and gentle?? and he’s just, ugh, perfect and all yours and you’re just really in your feelings all the sudden.

katsuki is shook when he stops focusing on rubbing the moisturizer into your neck to see tears gathering along your lower lashes.

“hey, what’s wrong, princess? did something happen? do you feel alright?”

you just pull him close and hold him tight. and katsuki is the smartest guy you know, he picks up all your social cues. so he softly wraps his strong arms around you, calloused fingers rubbing into your scalp.

“i just really love you,” you whimper, muffled his now damp shirt. “i’m sorry for keeping you up, i meant to just sneak in and slide into bed. you don’t have to do all this.”

he’s quiet for a moment before he squeezes you carefully, letting out a low sigh. “you worry too much, baby. you know i’d do anything for you...” he leans back and his thumb rolls over your wet cheek, eyes half lidded and a small, sincere smile on his lips, “and, i really love you too.”

kirishima:

kiri isn’t really the type to get super overprotective, and he does his fair share of partying so he is more than understanding when you tell him you’re going to the club with the girls.

he does pout a little when you tell him he can’t come, but he quickly accepts the fact because he understands it’s “girls’ night” and he probably wouldn’t want to be there for that anyway. although he does quip out a small comment about how sexy you look in your clubbing outfit, and how much sexier it’s gonna look on your bedroom floor later on.

safe to say you leave the house with a blush on your cheeks and a little heat between your legs.

you’re out with the 1A girls tonight— you’d all stayed pretty close after graduation and somehow you’d finally managed to get a night that all of you could attend. you can’t remember how many rounds of shots go by, and by the time the club is closing, your friends are all in various stages of drunkenness.

tsuyu and ochaco are playing some children’s hand game and singing along to it while they clap their hands together incessantly, jirou and hagakure are stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk as some kind of competition and yelling in indignation, and mina and momo have their arms around your shoulders as they debate what would be tastier right now: takoyaki or taiyaki.

honestly you keep tripping up on the words because they sound so similar, so the conversation just keeps going in circles until one of you finally decides to call a cab.

it’s about one in the morning— the group had left the club to get a snack before the easy mart across the street closed and you’d each gotten probably too many foods, your eyes bigger than your stomach.

kirishima laughs when you walk into the apartment, wobbling a bit with the (surprisingly full) plastic “thank you!” bag swinging around in the air.

“hey babe, whatcha got there? woah now—“

he reaches out and catches you before you tumble over, a red brow raised teasingly at your questionable balance.

“you alright baby?”

his voice is always deep, but it sounds even more intoxicatingly velvety in your drunken stupor, and all you do is give him the eyes with your tongue poking out between your lips.

he laughs at you again, nodding and whispering a “later, eager girl” in your ear as he sits you down on the couch, large hands fiddling with the straps on your ankles.

kiri frowns as the heel comes off, angry red marks marring the top of your foot, the back of your ankle faring even worse with a blister rubbed raw laying there.

you hiss when he touches it experimentally, a look of surprise on your face and frustration on his.

“y’know you’re really deadly in those heels babe, but if i’d known they’d hurt ‘ya i wouldn’t have let ‘ya wear ‘em out for so long…”

he disappears into the bathroom for a moment only to come back with the first aid kit. he gingerly holds your foot with one hand, the other dabbing some antibacterial cream onto the wound. he rips the wrapper with his pointy teeth, and you stifle a laugh at his red hero logo littered across the bandage.

he chuckles at your laughter, pressing a gentle kiss to your knee as he repeats the action on the other foot.

once he’s done and you’re all bandaged up, he sits next to you on the sofa, pulling your legs up across his lap.

he is not afraid to stay up late with you— actually, he prefers it because he just loves talking with you, especially when you’re all giggly and blushy because of the alcohol. plus he doesn’t want you to go to sleep still drunk (which he can tell you clearly still are), cuz he thinks you’ll have more of a hangover and it’s not that he doesn’t wanna take care of you tomorrow, it’s that he doesn’t want you to be in any pain if you can avoid it. he is a gentleman after all.

kiri inquires how your night out was, and you inform him of all the fun you’d had with the girls. he nods as he listens, big hands coming to rub your feet with the tiniest bit of strength— just enough to soothe your aching feet.

he tends to your every need;

fetching you an icy water bottle and encouraging you to drink from it frequently— “take another sip for me baby, I’ll add another minute to your massage if ‘ya do— haha that’s it, good girl!”

turning on the fan when you say you’re a little warm— “you’re hot? yeah i know. kidding. lemme get the fan for ‘ya.”

flicking on the TV and putting on your choice of entertainment. he doesn’t mind that it’s that show you love, even if it’s his third time watching this particular episode— “great choice babe, this one’s funny… hey, what’s that look for? of course it’s alright, i love this show!”  

it’s more of a background noise anyway as he talks with you, genuinely enjoying your company and just being there with you. he just wants to chat with you; share your smiles and hear your thoughts from the night, make silly jokes about the show and hear your laugh, lay his cheesy pickup lines on you even though you’ve been his for quite some time now.

and it’s so cute to him how you stumble on your words and amuse yourself when you’re drunk like this, and then when you remember you had bought snacks he swears his heart skips a beat at your squeal of excitement.

“this one’s for you!” you chime happily, hand outstretched and offering the box of pocky to him. his heart melts a little (okay maybe a lot) at your gift— he’d said he was craving chocolate last night and you had remembered, even in your intoxicated state.

gosh, he really loves you.

he’s about to voice the emotion when his thumb brushes over the perfect spot on the arch of your foot particularly hard, and a loud moan erupts from your lips, your brow furrowing and your lip pinching between your teeth.

you share a heated look before he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“thanks babe, but the pocky’ll have to wait,” he murmurs as he tosses the box aside, pushing the bag of snacks onto the floor. crawling over your legs with a sharp-toothed smirk on his lips, he growls lowly, a glint in his crimson eyes. “there’s something else i needa taste of now…”

➥ masterlist — thanks for reading as always :)

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#eheheh see what i did there #swapped ur expectations huh #didnt see that comin didja #my fics #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo fic #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou fic #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou fluff #kirishima eijirou fic #bnha fluff #bnha fic #bnha hc #mha fluff #mha fic #mha hc