#WHAT IF I DROP OUT TO BECOME ONE OF THOSE YOUTUBER GUYS THAT MAKES TABLES THAT ALL LOOK THE SAME HUH. WAHT THEN!!!!!!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stutterfly · 5 years ago

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Tricks of the Trade | MYG (M)

Shared as part of the Similarly Sequestered game with @kpopfanfictrash, @underthejoon, @fortunexkookie, @gukslut and me!

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 24.1K Prompt: “The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences.” {Body Swap AU, Soulmates AU}

Genre: Fluff, humor, smut, oneshot

Summary: The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

CW & Other Tags: Anxiety attacks, language, oral sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, Agent of Chaos Jin, shopkeeper Yoongi, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers, bodyswap shenanigans

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader

Posted on June 23, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to this or any other platform, including YouTube.

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The bell at the top of the door jingles as another customer walks into the store, but you pay them no mind. You’re already scanning the refrigerated drinks section for the third time, scouring the rows of cans and bottles for your beverage of choice. There’s only one kind of energy drink you want but its usual location is barren. Desperate to find what you’re searching for, you squat down to look behind the other drinks in the fridge.

“You’re not going to find any.”

The familiar, disinterested drawl of the shopkeeper has you popping up from the floor to look over at him. He wears a green apron over a black tee and a pair of faded jeans. His back is to you so he doesn’t have to see your face when you complain. He reaches up to take off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through thick locks of ebony hair before returning the cap to his head. He spares a glance over his shoulder at you, knowing you’re watching him. He sighs loudly as he continues to stock nearby shelves with boxes of cereal.

When he opened this tiny shop across from your apartment about a year ago, you thought he was cute, but he’s always seemed cold to you. The gossips around town say he’s a bit scrawny, monotone and boorish, but you like his voice and you like his style. He must be intelligent if he started this business from nothing, especially at his age. Not many people in their late twenties can say they are as independent as Yoongi.

He has confidence and pride in his values. You’ve seen him tell rude people off without a second thought and kick people out for being racist towards other customers. He puts on a front to seem unapproachable but you’ve seen him give a carton of milk to a mother who didn’t have money to pay for it, and free candy to a group of kids on a rainy day. While he pretends to be an old grump who shuffles around his shop all day, you’ve seen him get the energy to sprint around the block after a shift and then collapse at the cafe tables next door. He’s weird. He’s honest. He’s kind-hearted. It’s easy to admire him.

He bends down to pick up more boxes, and you cock your head to the side to stare at the way his ass looks in those jeans. He’s also insanely attractive. It’s no wonder you still come in here every day.

The more you see of him, the more you feel you know him, and the more you’ve grown to like him. The problem is that your relationship with the shopkeeper has shifted into a weird territory you’re not sure how to escape from. It’s not that you hate each other, but it seems you can’t hold a conversation without getting on each other’s nerves. Either you’re always saying the wrong thing or he’s pressing all the wrong buttons when he teases you.

At first you read his teasing as awkward flirting but for someone so blunt, you’ve convinced yourself he would have been straightforward and said the words out loud. I like you. Let’s get a drink. It would be easy for him to say, wouldn’t it? Despite trying to convince yourself he’s not interested, you can’t help but flirt with him at any opportunity to do so. However, you seem to forget how the moment he looks at you. It’s like your flirting skills took an exit down a shitty highway and now you’ve lost the GPS signal to navigate back to civilization.

Talking with Yoongi has become an ache you can’t seem to give up so you’ll take whatever excuse you can to keep doing so. That usually takes the form of you poking fun at one another until you hurt your own feelings. Sometimes you spend the remainder of a day thinking about the ways you can fix tomorrow’s fictitious conversation. You forgot how being infatuated with someone can make you feel so stupid. He’s not your life, just a part that you wish could be more prominent. It’s fine.

All you have to do is get your morning beverage and pastry before working your shift. Then you can focus on how nice it will feel to do nothing all weekend and catch up on TV shows.

“So…. What did you do with it? Are you hiding them from me today?” You quickly snap your eyes to his face as he twists his body to look up at you.

He scoffs. “Not me. College kids came through last night and cleared them out.”

“But you know I always get one,” you pout, crossing your arms like it’s going to make a difference.

He turns his attention back to his task, slowly stacking the boxes in silence before he clicks his tongue. “So? I can’t just hide stuff for you, you know.”

“Don’t you have more in the back? You’ve never run out of Hot6 before.”

He laughs to himself. “This isn’t a warehouse. I have to wait for product to arrive before I can restock. Just get a Red Bull. It tastes the same.”

You crinkle your nose at him. “It does not.”

He crosses the store with a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Before long he’s back at the register and sipping on his iced americano. “Whatever. Why do you care? It’s easier if you develop a taste for espresso. Then you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing. Besides, energy drinks aren’t that great for you, you know.”

You make a sound of disgust as you sulk your way over to the pastry cabinet. “Jeez. Do you always have to have such a stick in your ass? You act like coffee is so much better for you.”

“More caffeine, less sugar. I guarantee you it’s better,” he says with a smack of his lips against his straw.

“Whatever, Grandpa. Hmm... Muffin, muffin, muffin…” you quietly chant to yourself as your eyes rake over the racks in search of your daily pastry fix. Today seems to be against you: no muffins.

“We’re out of those too,” he says. “You know you could stand to change up your routine. Don’t you get sick of getting the same things every day?”

You bite your lip and look over the case of pastries, grabbing a simple croissant. “I like my routine, but I guess I could always stop coming here.”

“If that’s what you want.” He sighs dramatically as he leans over the counter, resting on his elbows as he surveys the store. “Well, I could enjoy a quiet morning for once.”

You roll your eyes.“Pfft. You like to argue, so I know you’d miss me.”

There’s a squeaky laugh from behind one of the shelves and as your attention shifts to the sound, a young man with dusty pink hair pokes his head up. He must be rather tall if he’s able to look over the aisles. You quirk an eyebrow at his strange laughter and wonder what kind of stranger could be so entertained by the pair of you.

“Sorry. It’s just…” He holds up a card that neither of you can really make out at this distance. “On the front it says ‘It’s Your Birthday?’ and inside it says ‘Alpaca my party hat!’. Ha! And there’s this pop-up of the alpaca with a bandana and party hat.” He giggles again as he opens and closes the card a few times and waves his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. You can continue flirting now.”

“This is not—” Your breath catches in your throat and you have to take a moment to swallow down your embarrassment before turning back towards Yoongi. “Can you believe this guy?”

He’s in the middle of taking a bite from a half-eaten muffin when your eyes meet his guilty ones. Your jaw falls open as he slowly chews and rings you up, placing the remainder of the pastry back down on the counter.

“You took the last one?”

“I had a craving.” He shrugs.

“You knew I would want it and you took it so I couldn’t have it,” you guess in a playful tone. “Was your aim to make me suffer double today? You’re so cruel, Yoongi.”

He pauses to poke his tongue against his cheek as he handles your change. “It’s not like I planned it. Don’t make me out to be some bad guy.”

“Bad guy. Tch. No, I wouldn’t go that far.” You lean forward, planting your hands on the counter and ensuring a clear sightline into your shirt. “I think you just like getting under my skin.”

He bristles at your words, taking the bait and dropping his gaze to the lace exposed for his eyes. He licks his lips and lazily lets his eyes drift back to your face, his expression unreadable. “Maybe that’s true.”

You cock your head and smirk as you stand up straight, your ego slightly inflated. “Is it really so hard to be nice to me? I’m nice to you.”

“Hah!” He breaks into an amused grin. “When?”

You’re taken aback by his response. Surely you’ve been obvious with your infatuation up to this point. You scoff. “Wha- All the time!”

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms with the change still trapped in his palm. “So complaining is a form of politeness now? Then I should be grateful for how often you shower me with kindness.”

“You know I do more than complain! I complain because you complain to me!” you pout, pointing your finger at him. “Maybe we could talk about something meaningful if you ever cared enough to ask.”

His eyebrows raise with the pitch of your voice. It’s not a big deal. This is stupid. You’re overreacting because you like him. You know he’s fucking with you so why is your face still getting hot? Even if he’s joking, he’s planted the seed in your mind that he sees you as a grumpy customer. He’s clearly never thought of you as anything but a negative start to his day. You’ve seen him be sweet but right now he feels as bitter and cold as the coffee he drinks.

“What do you think of this?” the pink-haired stranger asks, donning a pair of thick black frames with orange-tinted lenses.

The man cuts the tension from the room for a brief moment. Yoongi stares at him, his lip curled up in disgust as he slowly shakes his head. When his eyes travel back to yours they seem full of apprehension. Your name rolls off his tongue as though it’s an apology.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. Just give me my change,” you grumble, reaching up for his palm.

His grip is impossible to penetrate. He smiles as you struggle to work your fingers beneath his, shaking his head like you’ve revealed some embarrassing secret. Heat builds in your face the longer you stand there fidgeting with his hand. You feel like a fool.

“You’re obnoxious. Let me count it out first,” Yoongi sneers while trying to pull his hand back.

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes and yank his hand towards you. “I don’t need you to count it.”

“You know what I think you need?”

The other customer leans beside the counter, a new pair of glasses on his face that are twice as hideous as the first pair. As you turn to look at the stranger you can see the pair of you reflected in hues of red and yellow in those disturbingly 90s opaque lenses. It almost looks like you’re holding hands. You stiffen at the sight but keep your fingers locked against Yoongi’s calloused ones as you focus on the pricetag dangling across the man’s nose.

The stranger slowly moves a closed fist above the place where your hand and Yoongi’s meet. He waits a few seconds until you’re both focused on his hand before a flash of silver falls from his palm. You almost mistake the shapes for identical necklaces until they untangle and rotate to reveal two halves that form a heart.

The fluorescent lights of the store highlight the engraved text on each. One says ‘BEST’ while the other half reads ‘FRIENDS’. The faux-metal irritates your neck the moment you think about it touching your skin. The chains appear fragile and cheap, like they might break at the slightest amount of tension. If this guy thinks you’re going to take these he must be delusional.

You exchange a quizzical look with Yoongi as the necklaces dangle between you. He’s distracted enough that you’re able to pry your change from his sweaty palm.

“Uh. No thanks,” you say, shoving the coins in your pocket before grabbing your croissant. You take a moment to regard Yoongi with a scowl, cocking your head to the side. “See you, Grandpa.”

The stone in his gut sinks as he watches you leave but he forces his attention to the pink haired stranger in the obscenely reflective glasses.

“You know, I think she likes you,” he whispers with a wink.

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It’s been a long day but at least you don’t have to go out tomorrow. You’ve already changed into your favorite pair of comfy shorts but as you move to unbutton your work shirt something smacks against your chest. Did something get trapped in your cleavage?

“What the fuck?”

As you look down your stomach does a somersault. There’s a necklace draped around your neck with a half-broken heart pendant, etched with the word ‘BEST’. How did that guy sneak this ugly thing onto you? How did you not feel it until now? Maybe he’s some sort of street magician. Your shock is accompanied by a chuckle as you reach behind your neck to fidget with the clasp. Spinning the chain between your fingertips, you soon realize there isn’t one. This thing feels like a dollar store trinket, so you curl your fingers around the charm and pull down with all of your might. It remains secure around your neck no matter how hard you tug.

Your mind begins to break into a panic. What the fuck? What the fuck. What. The actual. Fuck.

You quickly throw on a pair of sneakers and nab the keys hanging near the door on your way out of the apartment. It's hard to believe the speed at which your feet carry you down the several flights of stairs. A couple scrambles out of the way as they watch your frenzied descent. Before long you're pressing the entirety of your body against the familiar door of the convenience store across the street.

The clerk looks up from his phone, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise as you stumble past the threshold. Your body nearly folds in half as you plant your hands on your knees and struggle to catch your breath.

"Are you alright?"

You force yourself to stand up straight to address the man standing behind the counter. The word is devoid of conviction as it leaves your mouth. "Yeah."

You know him as Tae, one of Yoongi's part-time employees. Yoongi offered him a job when he heard him say he was looking for work to supplement his endeavors to put himself through art school. You’ve seen him a lot, spoken a little here and there, and he even knows you by name now. If he's here, it's probable that his boss is not. You sigh loudly in an attempt to relieve some of the panic and frustration built up in your brain. It's not like you can just ask Tae to give you Yoongi’s number.

Tae’s wide-eyed stare indicates his concern for your well being but it’s not until he drags his gaze across your body and purses his lips that you feel something is amiss. It's at this point that you realize how much the air conditioner billows the fabric of your work shirt. Goosebumps form along your calves as all of the blood in your body rushes to your face. You quickly cross your arms over your chest to conceal the half-unbuttoned shirt and the bra that pokes out from beneath it. There’s little you can do to cover the expanse of your legs while wearing such form-fitting shorts.

“I was just… checking to see if you have any Hot6,” you say with barely a glance in the direction of the refrigerator section. “But it’s clear you’re still out.”

Tae raises his eyebrows and grants you a subtle, uncertain nod as your eyes settle on the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’

“Is your boss here?” you blurt, reaching for the chain around your neck. “I’ve got a—”

Your stomach drops. It’s gone. Both of your hands instinctively smack at your collarbones, like frantically patting against your flesh will cause the necklace to reappear. You hold your shirt open wide enough to peer down at the skin of your chest with a concentrated gaze, eyes begging for any trace of the tacky piece of jewelry to resurface. Was it really just a figment of your imagination? You swear it was there. You felt it. You pulled on it. It had to be real.

You swallow hard and quickly bounce your eyes to the uncomfortable-looking cashier. All you can offer is a weak chuckle as you try to play it off by shaking out your shirt. “Sorry… I thought there was a bug."

There's an awkward, heavy silence between you as he nods with pursed lips. There's no way this poor guy believes your delusional ass. "Bossman's gone for tonight. Seemed kinda beat."

"Oh."

Your eyes settle on the countertop as your brain tries to rationalize what kind of unresolved issues at work are causing your mental breakdown. You stand there while spacing out, barely blinking. You can't believe you imagined that. Not knowing what to do, Tae walks his fingers towards the miniature cans of Red Bull stacked on the counter. He gracefully sweeps his hand around a can and offers it to you. That breaks you from your daze.

"It kinda tastes the same." He attempts to cut the tension with an endearingly awkward, close-mouthed smile. "My treat?"

If it were Yoongi saying such a thing you might scowl and tell him that he must be delusional if he thinks they're the same. Tae is a much kinder soul. You find yourself softening at his suggestion and shake your head.

"You know I should probably lay off the energy drinks now that I think about it," you say. "Have a good night, Tae."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" he calls after you as you wander back through the door. He leans over the counter. "Oh, hey wait! Do you want me to let bossman know you were looking for him?"

"It's fine!" you shout back on autopilot. You're already sinking into a pool of your own thoughts as the door closes behind you.

It was not fine.

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Sleep does not come easy despite your exhaustion. You find yourself tossing and turning all night. When the light begins to stream through your blinds it seems to strike at the perfect angle to blind your fluttering eyes. You pull the blankets up over your head even though you know it’s of no use; you’re already awake and there’s no going back to sleep now.

You stretch out with a yawn as you sleepily shuffle from the bed to the tiny bathroom around the corner of your room. It’s easy to apply toothpaste to your toothbrush on autopilot, taking a moment to rub your knuckles against an eye before glancing up towards the mirror. How bad is the bedhead today?

The sight that greets you causes you to drop your toothbrush in the sink and stumble back out of the doorway. Your fingers grip the frame to keep you on your feet, your attention quickly drawn to the thick digits situated there. As you force yourself forward, you support yourself with one hand on the counter and bring the other up for inspection. The foreign hand trembles as you turn it back and forth while trying to catch the breath that keeps running away from you. Anxiety sinks its teeth deeper into your lungs, causing a puncture that has you gasping for air.

Calluses adorn your fingertips, accompanied by scratches and scars from moments you've never experienced. Your nails are jagged and short, devoid of the pleasing pink color you applied to them two days ago. You dread the journey your eyes threaten to make towards the mirror once again but you find that you are unable to stop them. The face staring back at you with saucer-wide eyes is none other than Min Yoongi.

Your head feels light. This face is fake. You gasp for the air you can't seem to get enough of and stumble out of the bathroom. The walls seem to wobble in place as you race towards the living room where you can feel the breeze flowing through the window you left open last night. This world is fake. Nothing is real. Air will fix this. If you could just breathe like a normal person everything would be okay.

You fall to your knees within spitting distance of the window. For all the air your body greedily sucks inward, your mind feels bereft of any. Your vision goes dark.

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Yoongi does his best to make his way up the stairs with poise, but he's almost sure it looks like a waddle more than anything. His thighs --your thighs-- are chafing from the run here and each step is a painful reminder of the irritated flesh still rubbing together beneath these sweatpants. At least one of your neighbors was kind enough to let him into the main entrance. They must have recognized the face he mysteriously woke up with. Luckily your mailbox has your last name on it and as much as you might disagree he does pay attention when you talk.

He tries to wipe the sweat from his brow as he bends down to plant his hands on his knees. Even as his breath recovers, he grows increasingly frustrated with how heavy his chest feels. He repeatedly pushes the hair from his face with a groan, wishing he had taken the scissors to it when he had the opportunity earlier. He takes off the cap atop his head, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it back on his head. Everything is too much. You need to fix this. Take it back.

The faster he tries to ascend the stairs, the more he aches. He finally gives up on looking civil when he decides there's no one else in the stairwell to judge him. After all they'll only remember you anyway so what does it matter? He rolls the sweatpants up above his knees and cups the breasts hidden beneath the oversized sweater for support as he scrambles up the last few floors.

He grimaces at the dainty pink fingernails before curling his hand into a fist and rapping his knuckles against your door. He puffs his cheeks out and expels a long breath. What could you possibly be doing? You have to be in there. He tries the handle to no avail. Are you still asleep? He quickly abandons the need for subtlety and places both palms on the door and drums loudly against it. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking tells him he shouldn't hesitate. He's through the door before you can even properly get off your knees.

Somehow you knew what would be waiting for you on the other side. The sight before you has your mind reeling. That's your body, but it's not you. Could it really be Yoongi? You did not get Freaky-Friday'd with him. There's no fucking way this is reality. You can feel yourself panicking again as you back away from the figure, falling back on your ass. You watch yourself look down at you with a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" That's definitely your voice.

Your body takes slow steps towards you as it crosses one arm over the other. You lean back on your elbows and groan. It's a deep sound, deeper than anything that's come from your throat even on your sickest day. This isn’t happening.

"Oh my god. I'm fucking dying," you murmur while tilting your head towards the ceiling. "Everything is fake. Nothing is real. I’m going crazy. Please let me rot."

The figure bends down and leans over into your field of vision. The image of your face frowns back at you and pokes you in the chest with a pointed fingernail.

“Stop that.”

“I can’t,” you whine between heavy breaths. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out again.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Those perfectly manicured hands reach out for your shoulders in comfort but you fall flat on your back and your arm flies up to cover your eyes.Tears sting at them as reality warbles around you again. Seeing your own face hovering above you definitely isn’t helping you feel more sane.

"I don't know what's happening," you sob.

With each breath you suck between your quivering lips, your chest aches. Suddenly that pair of hands is cupping your jaw and pushing your arm aside. You look into the eyes you are already so familiar with, but they seem far more caring than you’ve ever managed to display.

"We need to undo whatever is happening right now," he says calmly. "You don't have to like it. You don't have to tell me you're okay. But I need you to sit up and pull yourself together long enough to help me figure this out. Can you do that?"

You swallow hard and nod slowly as you take the hand offered to you. A half-smirk appears on his lips; it's strange to see yourself reflected with such warmth, especially knowing it's coming from Yoongi.

"Good. Now please go change. I can't look at those shorts anymore.”

You look down at your attire for the first time and realize how absurd Yoongi’s body looks in the clothing you wore to bed. The skimpy tank top clings to the muscular, flat chest you now possess. Worse still, you can see bits of flesh poking out against that hairy inner thigh below. You squeeze your eyes shut and pretend like you can forget what you just saw sticking out of your shorts.

You take a deep breath as your face burns with embarrassment. “Okay. Give me your pants.”

He stiffens at your demand and scoffs. “What?”

“I don’t have anything that will fit you— er, I mean, me. Us?” You gesture at your body and stare at the floor, trying to will yourself to not dissociate. “This. You can’t be comfortable either.”

There’s a sigh before he plops down on your couch with legs spread wide open. “My back hurts and my thighs rubbed together so much I don’t want to move anymore.”

You can’t help but laugh at the admission. At least he feels your pain. He looks up at you while reclining his head on the cushion behind him. You’re not hyperventilating anymore so distraction seems to be the key to keeping you relatively calm.

“Why you, of all people?” he wonders.

You roll your eyes and stomp across the room and disappear into your bedroom. “Hmph. I was about to ask you the same thing. This is bullshit.”

You come back with a handful of carefully selected clothes and strappy undergarments that you know for a fact flatter your shape. If he has to walk around in your skin the least he can do is make it look good. You pause halfway down the hall and swallow hard as it dawns on you that he’s going to have to get naked in order to change, which means he’s unavoidably going to be looking at your body without any barriers. You decide you’re going to be strong and you simply won’t think about it or acknowledge it as a possibility.

He’s busy chewing one of your nails when you reach the living room again. You hug the clothes close to your chest and storm across the room.

“Do you bite your nails?! Ew! God, no wonder yours are so jagged and gross,” you complain, thrusting the clothes into his lap.

He offers an apologetic look before glancing down at the attire you’ve supplied with raised eyebrows. He picks up the bra with one finger and grimaces at the way it dangles off his digit. He’s looking up at you with pleading eyes shortly after it falls back in his lap. It’s hard to avoid his gaze. You feel those pupils boring into your skull as you dart your eyes away to focus on the floor.

You clear your throat and muster every last bit of courage you possess. “Um… Your clothes, please?”

He inhales loudly through his nose and you watch the grey sweatpants pool around the toenails you just painted last night. You swallow hard and scramble to pick them up when they slide across the wooden floor to you. You clutch them to your chest, quickly catching the scent of your sweat and arousal on them. Maybe he hasn’t noticed? Trying to suppress the mortification growing in your chest, you purse your lips and trail your gaze back up to his face--your face. Thankfully the hoodie covers your sex and you’re hoping he hasn’t bothered taking a peek before coming here.

“Don’t… Don’t look,” you plead. So much for not acknowledging it.

He’s feeding his arm through one of the sleeves when he freezes in place and locks eyes with you. “I should tell you I woke up shirtless,” he mumbles. As if to lessen the blow of his admission, he continues with a pout, “But you can’t blame me for looking. It’s hard not to look at a pair of perfect tits that mysteriously appear in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do?”

Perfect tits? You’d almost be flattered if it wasn’t so fucking morifying to know he’s already seen you. Your eyes screw shut and you nod. “Right.”

This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

“Hey,” he calls softly, prodding you to open your eyes. “Here.”

He keeps eye contact with you while feeding his other arm through the sleeve. Watching yourself strip without performing the act is bizarre. He holds the sweater out for you to slowly take. It eases your mind to see his gaze never wavered. Yours drops to the nude form before you and suddenly you’re criticizing every curve and flaw you can find. It’s as though you’re simply standing before a mirror and feeding your insecurity with needless scrutiny. Despite this, Yoongi remains focused on your face and the discomfort you display so openly at seeing your own form stripped bare. Almost bare. That beat-up baseball cap he wears every day now adorns your head like a crown for your mediocrity.

You spin on your heels and speedwalk down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s hard to ignore the new appendage you’ve acquired but you make sure to shut your eyes while peeling the shorts from your thighs and sliding the sweatpants up in their stead. While you rushed through the bottom half of your attire, you stop for a minute to inspect Yoongi’s bare pectorals. It’s all too easy to get lost in the sight of his body in the mirror. You subconsciously lick your lips and run your fingers across your flat, hard chest.

Your thumb circles a brown nipple and you watch with satisfaction as it grows hard at your touch. Your palms press down over your stomach, feeling the muscles hidden just below the surface of soft flesh. You grab at your hips, fingers threatening to dart below the band of your pants. Instead you suck air in through your nose and scold yourself for such weakness. You’re about to tug the sweater over your head when Yoongi silently enters and flops down on the bed face-first.

“Yoongi? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!” you shriek in your haste to cover up your own moment of weakness.

There’s a muffled response spoken into the mattress that you can’t quite understand.

"What?" Annoyance is a front for your embarrassment.

He turns his head to one side and sighs. "There are too many straps. Why did you pick such a difficult one?"

You definitely selected something with a lot of extra straps for a reason but you bite your lip and try to come up with an excuse that seems plausible. The truth is that you wanted to pick something sexy because you wanted him to see you as such. Does he care though? It's hard to tell. You decide the best excuse is to dismiss the question altogether.

"Stop being such a baby. I'll help you."

As he lifts his head to cringe in your direction, you're already out the door. He pounds his forehead against the mattress again and squeezes his eyes shut. There's clearly no logical explanation for this, so what is the next step to take? What should the pair of you do? Is this permanent? There has to be a way to undo whatever has happened. In order to figure that out he's trying to piece together the source of this predicament. No matter how hard he wracks his brain for answers to the puzzle, there still seems to be pieces missing.

"Get up. Come on," you huff, tugging at his arm.

The sound he makes is pitiful and whiny as he rises. It's easy enough to see where his arms are supposed to go when you've already bunched all of the material together. You step behind him and fiddle with the fit around the familiar mounds of flesh at his front. He instinctively looks down to watch how his own familiar fingers slide beneath the bra. He pries his eyes away just as quickly to find he has a much better view of the pair of you in the mirror.

There's a sight he'd never thought he'd see: both of you shirtless with his hands in your bra. It's not that he's never wanted it. It's just that he always seems to fuck it up when it comes to being social, with you in particular. Maybe it's because he likes you too much. There's never been a proper opportunity to make a move outside of work and he knows his flirting skills are abysmal. But looking at the reflection of the pair of you now fills him with equal amounts of desire and confidence.

Just as you’re about to clasp the first strap behind his neck you glance up and find yourself lost in the same reflection. An electric blush creeps up your spine and causes a tingle in your cheeks that makes you freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He hums a soft sound and makes the decision to reach back for your wrist. For a moment you’re not sure if you’re moving or if he is but you find yourself enjoying the sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers dipping below the fabric of your bra.

“Yoongi?” you ask, jaw hanging slack as the bra slips a bit further down.

“Do you feel that?” The voice is quiet as he lets you trace fingers along the soft skin. “It pinches there.”

That pinch is a familiar one but you always tell yourself that’s the price of beauty. The straps chafe. The underwire digs into your ribs. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the sexiest-looking thing you own so comfort be damned. You watch it slide further down to reveal one of your nipples in the reflection of the mirror; it’s impossible to look away. So much for him not looking anymore. You can’t blame him because it’s impossible for you to take your eyes off it too. The sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers trailing along the side of your breast sends a surge of excitement through your veins.

Goosebumps form a path where your fingers have traced and Yoongi exhales a shaky breath. The sound makes you chew on your bottom lip in contemplation. Is he feeling just as turned on right now? You try to remind yourself that the mirror is a lie. He’s not touching you. You’re touching him, regardless of how it looks. You can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. It’s so fucking hard to think straight now that you’re together like this, not just because he’s here in your room but because he’s experiencing the unique arousal of his body while trapped in yours.

“Being a girl sucks. What am I supposed to do about it?” Your fingers tremble as you force your eyes to meet his in the mirror.

The action does not go unnoticed. He smirks and quirks a brow but chooses to let it slide without commenting. “Give me something easy and comfy.”

“But—” You hesitate. Do you really need to argue about this? You can’t explain it without admitting your feelings towards him. It seems like an inopportune time, more so than usual. It’s better if you can just shut the fuck up for two seconds and work on the important task at hand: figuring out how to get back to normal.

He immediately fills the gap with an objection of his own. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” you say in the flattest tone you can muster.

He turns around to get a better read on your body language but you’re already rummaging through your drawers. You toss a sports bra with a front-facing zipper at him while you don the sweater and slip into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It’s best to avoid situations like that again if you can.

Yoongi takes this moment to inspect the room, crinkling his nose at the several empty cans of Hot6 stacked on top of your dresser. He brings a long manicured nail to his teeth and begins working it back and forth as he slides the folding closet door open with a finger. Much to his surprise your wardrobe is filled with t-shirts that look much more comfortable than the piece you previously selected. He’s quick to trade shirts and carefully replaces the clothing on the hanger before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his elbows. Comfy. Finally. His attention is drawn to the closed bathroom door. It’s been a while. Are you okay?

“You better not be passed out in there,” he whines, making sure to sound extra annoying for you.

The attempt to conceal the concern in his tone is successful but he’s happy you’re not able to see his worried expression. If you knew how badly he wants to freak out, you might actually start hyperventilating again. He’d like to avoid that. The door swings open and you exhale deeply. You’re not about to tell him you had to wait out the boner because then he’d probably make fun of you. He watches you take a few steps forward while wedging a nail between his teeth.

“Are you biting my fucking nails again?”

“Yup.”

You’re already scrambling across the bed and by the time he moves to shuffle backwards you have his wrists pinned against your soft comforter and you’re straddling his waist. Oh god. This is too fucking hot to be doing with him while he’s in your body. Abort. Abort!

It’s now that you note he’s wearing a soft cotton t-shirt you definitely did not pick out. “Yoongi, did you—”

“These clothes are better. Did you give me the most uncomfortable things you own just to make me suffer for stealing your muffin?”

Between the sports bra and the t-shirt he’s selected the curves of your body are lost to your eyes and your heart sinks. There goes any chance you had of him thinking your body is sexy. He’s expecting a tongue lashing but you sigh instead and release your hold on him, quickly climbing off his form before you can let your body get you into trouble. You search for the laptop that you know is hidden just beneath the covers near your pillows.

“Pfft. Look, maybe we can google what happened to us and not get Freaky Friday movie reviews. You wanna see if it works?”

He offers a half smirk in response and he’s quiet only for a second before he hums a sound of distaste. It’s an accusation and you know it. He quickly scoots back towards the pillows so he can sit beside you.

You scowl as you mistype your own password. “Ugh. What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so mad.”

“I’m not.”

You make sure to broadcast the fact that you’re definitely not mad by repeatedly tapping the delete key in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Why does your face look like that then?” he prods while folding his hands across his lap.

“Like what? You of all people should know that your face always looks this grumpy.”

As he rests his head against the fluffy material behind him, he lazily rolls his head towards you. “Y/N.”

You dramatically throw your head back against the pillows and mirror his stare. “Yoongi.”

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble.

“It clearly does,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “We have to work together to figure this out, so some honesty might be nice.”

You open the laptop and stare at the password screen for a moment with a longing sigh. “Fine. I look gross in those,” you admit with a brief glance at his attire. “You’re making me look like an unsexy blob.”

He scoffs. “What? Is that all? You’re being ridiculous. These clothes don’t matter at all. We both know what you look like underneath them. Honestly, you could be wearing a trashbag and still be sexy.”

“To whom?” You want to laugh at how absurd his explanation sounds. “What kind of lunatic would think that?”

He blinks slowly and raises his eyebrows with a calculated clench of his jaw. “Me. For starters.”

He’s stiff as he purses his lips and crosses his arms. He stares at the login screen, waiting for you to type your password. “And any sane man or woman with a pair of eyes and a brain.”

Your mouth falls open in disbelief mid-stroke. Was that a confession? Your head might as well be full of helium with how high you’re feeling. This has to be a dream. If the insane concept of switching bodies with Yoongi isn’t enough to solidify it, those words sure are. You have to be dreaming.

Your eyes remain locked onto the fingers now resting against the keys. “Do you really think that?”

“Yes.” The response comes quicker than expected but instead of giving you time to ruminate on it, he nudges you with his elbow. “Password.”

Your shoulders lift with a deep inhale through your nose and drop back down with the subsequent forceful exhale through your lips. What are you supposed to do with that information? You feel your consciousness try to lift into the aether. If you could only make it float back into your own body, you might have the courage to say something, anything. With your mind drifting away, your fingers move of their own accord as they type in the password to your laptop.

"Whoa, what the fuck is that?"

The video you'd left open last night starts up with a preview that brings you back to reality, but not fast enough.

"D-Don't look! It's private!" you screech.

Heat pulses through the veins along the sides of your forehead. Precious seconds have already been wasted by the time you frantically scramble to close the tab. He's seen the keywords in the search bar and the nastiest bits of that particular video. You're fucking mortified.

“I mean that’s definitely a couple privates," he jokes with a laugh. "You seriously just leave your porn out like that?"

”Incognito mode, Yoongi," you sneer while pulling up a new tab. "I don’t need you or my FBI guy judging me.”

He snorts. “Oh come on, Y/N. The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences. And neither do I. Besides, you technically looked at it with my eyes already.”

He taps the side of your forehead gently as if you needed the reminder that you're not in your own skin and you swat him away. You quickly type the phrase “body swap” into the search bar and try to focus on the resulting web pages even though you’re distracted by the blood leaving your brain in favor of other body parts.

"Can you just… Shut up for one second?"

"Hey, I'm just saying..." He clicks his tongue thoughtfully as he scooches closer to you. "You’re into some good stuff. We might have more in common than I thought."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the physical contact and send a tingling electricity down your abdomen. You clear your throat and reposition the computer over your lap as you feel yourself growing harder. You stare down at the two fingers settled on the trackpad rather than the information on screen. Try as you might to remain inconspicuous, suddenly all you can think about are those thick fingers rubbing hard circles against your clit while the two of you watch porn together. Bad thought. Baaaaaad. You attempt to pass the laptop over to him as discreetly as possible while shifting your pelvis away towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m…” You flounder for an excuse to leave the room and get these racing hormones under control. “...pee.”

“What?” There's a quizzical expression branded upon his features that toes the line of disgust.

“I have to pee,” you quickly correct while tactically holding your forearm over your lap. If there is such a thing as fate, why is it torturing you like this?

“Again?”

You push the laptop towards him once more and pray that he’ll just let you go be embarrassed alone in the bathroom for five minutes. Instead he looks down at the way your forearms cross your pelvis and exudes a deep, throaty laugh that sounds foreign in the tenor of your voice. That laughter travels through your head like it’s made of hot coals.

“Wow. Got a boner, huh?”

Your cheeks are made of fire. Literal fire. They feel like they should melt straight through your skin and torch your brain yet here you are: still alive and wishing you would burn to death. God is dead. There is no mercy in this universe.

"Don't fucking laugh at me! I can't control it!"

When he laughs harder, the urge to silence him overtakes all rational thought. You reach for a lock of hair sticking out from beneath his cap and pull hard. He hisses through his teeth and you smirk, knowing what kind of response this would normally elicit from your body. Will it affect him the same, or is the sexual response guided by mental preference rather than physical? Maybe it’s both. It seems to have some effect because he’s stopped laughing.

Yoongi shivers as goosebumps riddle his arms and prickle along his chest until his nipples are threatening to poke holes through the thin fabric of the bra and t-shirt. His jaw tightens and on instinct his hand shoots up to grasp at the short black hair adorning your head in retaliation. He catches himself before he pursues the motion of yanking down. What is he doing? Can he really be so bold with you? He knows you, but not like this. Things are strange right now but if he keeps going they're bound to get stranger. If the butterflies in his stomach weren't enough to tip him off to his attraction to you, even like this, the wetness between these thighs solidifies the magnetism you hold over him.

A pitiful sound escapes your lips that hints at your disappointment. “Mmm?"

He pauses there to inspect your expression, tilting his head as though it will give him a better read. He should be able to interpret his own expression but looking at his face through your eyes doesn't seem to help at all. Because he's studied your features for so long it's hard to see what you're feeling now that he can't see them at work. His palm flattens against your scalp and he allows his fingers to wander through the thick black hair he's combed out a million times. Somehow it feels softer in your hands. Soon he finds his hand cupping the back of your neck. Labored breaths swim in the space between the pair of you, but it's hard to tell who they belong to.

"What are you doing?" you whisper as your fingers reach for the brim of his cap.

"What are you doing?" he echoes back.

Have your eyes always looked so fierce, or is it his persona breathing a dark fire into them now? You flick the cap off his head, which releases all the hair he had trapped underneath it. You push it back from his face and tangle your fingers within it.

"Pretending like this isn't just you wanting to make out with yourself to see what it's like," you answer, staring at the reflection in his eyes. "You?"

There's a smirk that grows into a full blown grin within seconds. "Trying to convince myself that it isn't insane to want to make out with myself just to see what it's like."

You scoff and drop your hands to his shoulders to give him a firm push back. "Dick."

He giggles at the way you pout and halfheartedly pushes the laptop towards the other side of the bed. The hand still on the back of your neck travels up to massage your scalp and suddenly you're putty in his palm. His other hand trails along your stubbly jaw until his fingers are nestled behind your ear. As he glances down at the tent in your pants he laughs.

"Still hard?"

"Like your nipples," you grumble.

You reach out and twist the peaks barely hidden beneath his shirt; it's an impulse you don't refuse. This time he moans.

"Oh, you liked that, hmm? I bet you're so fucking wet right now," you whisper, embracing your boldness.

You watch his eyes roll with the flutter of his lashes at your words. Both of his hands glide through your hair and he begins to flex his fingers around some strands. He alternates between releasing his gentle grip on your locks and twisting his fingers back into them. You’re making him crazy. Should he even bother trying to compose himself at this point?

“What?” you prod, pushing the limits of his endurance for such brattiness. “Aren’t you going to pull my hair, Yoongi?”

The way he glares at you causes your skin to break out in a series of goosebumps. How can you be shivering when your body was just doing its best impression of molten rock? Yoongi. That’s the answer. You whimper a pathetic sound as his knuckles curl towards your scalp. The motion brings your forehead down to meet his and your eyelids flutter closed. He focuses heavy breaths out through his nose and stares at the lips he knows are his own. They may be part of his usual physical appearance but right now they’re a part of yours.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious.”

He sucks his bottom lip through his teeth and moves towards you before he can second guess what he's about to do. His lips seem to meld with yours and your eyes pop open to be sure this is really happening. Is this really happening? You see your own nose and heavy lidded eyes peeking open just enough to roll back in pleasure.

The hands buried in your hair drop to cradle your jaw and you can feel the stubble scraping against the delicate skin of his fingers as he drags his hands slowly towards your chin. You melt into his touch and hold your breath like you'll never inhale another again. Suddenly you're kissing him back and no amount of lightheadedness can stop you.

Oh shit. This is happening. It’s not anything like your daydreams but it’s real and it feels so fucking good. It feels surreal. It feels too surreal. Maybe the lightheadedness can stop you. It's you, but it's not. Your eyes open again and you find a battle of anxiety raging in your brain. He pauses to peck the edge of your mouth when he realizes you're no longer kissing him back.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “Did I… read that wrong?”

“No! No, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It’s just…” A laugh bubbles from your throat and you shake your head before bursting into a fit of giggles. “This is weird.”

Relief washes over his features and he smiles as he leans back to look at you. “It’s definitely unique. But I can’t say I want to stop.”

His admission fills you with a fresh wave of tingles up your spine. “Me neither. I… still want you.”

You sheepishly turn your head to the side and find the mirror lining the closet wall, looking at the image of the pair of you as if it will save you from the embarrassment of your own words.

"What? Now you're getting shy?" he teases while following you gaze to the reflection. It dawns on him that he can enjoy the view. "Or do you just want to watch?"

He moves towards your lips slowly while keeping focused on the mirror, watching your eyes lazily roll back behind your lids and revelling in the whine this pulls from you.

“Look,” he pleads in low whisper, angling your body so you can get a better view. “Look how good you look with your tongue on my neck.”

Your head lolls around just in time to see exactly that before the sensation snaps across your nerve endings. He latches on, sucking light bruises into the tender flesh. He knows where to put his tongue to have you gripping the back of his neck and arching your back up towards him. He smirks as he glances at the mirror, licking a hot stripe up to your ear where he teasingly nibbles on the lobe.

"Does it look as hot when I--when you...?" You flounder on your words in between soft pants, your eyes trained on the reflection.

He counters with a whisper, “Do you want to find out?”

“I’m… curious,” you admit, leaning your head back to give him access to more of your neck.

“You want to know how it feels,” he lazily mumbles against your neck. “Hmm. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s a unique opportunity,” you say, trying to convince yourself that proposing the idea isn’t weird at all. “Maybe we just… See?”

“Right. This is a unique opportunity,” he echoes in agreement, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he sighs a heated breath against your skin. “We should take advantage of it.”

“I mean, as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

He pops his head up to look at you, his brows knotted in confusion. “Who would believe me?”

You shake your head and smirk. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment where the concept of time seems to evaporate. You both stare at each other like you’re seeing your own faces for the first time, like it’s the first time you both can actually love and accept yourselves as you are. It’s easier to be gentle with someone else, but now that someone else is technically also a part of you it brings a level of clemency to your feelings regarding your appearance. You like yourself better now that you can see a part of him there.

“Will you show me how you like it?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“If you show me, too,” you say with a gentle rock of your hips towards him.

“You first.”

Your mouth is already covering the soft expanse of his neck, dragging your teeth with just enough pressure to tease the skin. He watches you work up and down through the mirror, feeling the arousal between his legs building. As you're kissing a path back towards his mouth he takes a chance and swings his leg over your midriff so he's kneeling just above the throbbing cock hidden beneath the thin layer of gray fabric. The jeans dig a hard line into his stomach and limit the range of his spread.

"These pants are horrible," he complains.

"Take them off if you hate them so much," you agree between hungry kisses. It's impossible to keep your eyes from the mirror. He hooks his fingers beneath your sweater and begins working it upwards, stopping only to rest a palm on your chest.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He trails his fingers down the flat expanse until he gets to your navel, passing over the dark hair leading down into your pants. He tugs at the place where the hair begins to grow thicker and laughs when you hiss an expletive.

He quickly pulls the oversized sweater upwards. Instead of helping you out of it, he clutches the fabric with both hands as you bring your arms above your head and presses you back into the mattress. You find your bent elbows trapped in the sleeves.

“How about this?” he whispers. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” You look down at the delicious pectorals he’s exposed, practically salivating at the sight of those pert nipples. “Yoongi, please.”

He smirks as he runs his fingers down your chest, ignoring the nipples you wish he would do something about. Lower. Lower. His hand travels behind him until suddenly your body spasms with pleasure from the practiced grip he’s placed on the cock standing at attention behind him.

“This? Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Fuck! Yes. Please. Yes!”

Just as quickly as his hand pressed against your clothed erection, it’s gone, leaving you a whimpering mess. He plants a kiss beside one of your nipples, but denies it any direct contact.

"Stop teasing me," you whine. The pressure in your chest builds with every second that passes and you feel like your heart is going to burst.

He lets out a lofty sigh as he sits back on his thighs, promptly removing his t-shirt. "But you make it so easy..."

You wiggle out of the arms of the sweater and sit up to unsnap the button to his jeans. You kiss up his stomach until he’s unzipping the bra and letting you nip at the supple flesh for a moment. He discards the bra like it’s nothing before rolling over to unzip his pants. He peels them from his legs along with the soaked panties. It’s hard to not look at the mirror as he climbs over your waist. If he holds any shame for being nude in front of you, it’s not apparent in his current form. Your face, however, feels hot. Your body is exposed and he keeps looking at it, groping those breasts with his hands.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, admiring the reflection as he plays with his nipples between his fingers.

You want to bury your face in something to hide your embarrassment so you plant your face between his tits and begin to suck bruises into the soft flesh beside his fingers.

“Oh fuck.” The sight of his own face diving between those squishy tits is enough to make his body involuntarily flex in ways he’s never experienced before.

“How does it feel?” you murmur, slowly licking a path to one of his nipples and lightly dragging your teeth along it.

The sound he makes when he moans has you shivering all over again. He lets his head fall back for a second and then he looks at you. “Like I want you to touch me.”

Now you’re the one who smirks with confidence. “Lay back.”

He snaps the band at your waist as he rolls off of you. “These. Off.”

Manicured fingers slip down to rub some of the tension from the swollen bud between his legs as he watches you awkwardly push the pants down past the cock begging to be touched. You try to avoid looking at it. It’s hard not to feel exposed even though it’s not your body. You scramble back into the bed as quickly as you can. His laughter catches you off guard.

“You’re so shy now. Look at it. Feel it,” he urges. “Grab my cock.”

You try to be casual about your downward glance but the way you lick your lips is anything but casual. You press your thumb into the base of the cock to admire its shape from a 90 degree angle. It’s average in terms of length but your mouth waters at the sight of the bulging veins and increased girth just below the swollen tip. You don’t bother to resist the urge to grip the shaft. You drag your hand up and trace your thumb around the fleshy mauve tip. The sensation causes you to shiver. It’s so sensitive.

As you’re admiring the way it tapers towards the base, soft, thinner fingers curl around yours and begin to guide them into a slow, controlled pumping motion that sets your nerves alight.

He quirks a brow at you. “What do you think?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you choke out with a held breath. Greedy gasps break the small silence that follows. Has it always been so hard to speak while masturbating? It’s not like you’re terrible at dirty talk so why are you hesitating?

“Do you need me to stop?”

You fervently shake your head and follow it with a needy groan. “No. Please… Keep going.” You hope he never stops.

“Then use your words” he urges, placing his hand over yours to slow your pace to a crawl.

You whimper. It’s a pathetic sound created with his voice in his throat, yet it still somehow sounds so deliciously like you. While he finds himself attracted to your usual body, it doesn’t bother him that you’re currently assuming a different form. Looks are fleeting anyway. It’s the person inside he’s grown attached to, the caring soul he feels connected to.

He’s seen you stare at the bulletin board near the restroom and tear off the tabs of creative community activities to benefit those in need. If he wasn’t so busy managing the store all the time he would have been able to sign up for those events too. He’s seen you volunteer at the homeless shelter just around the corner. He’s seen you cradling posters for your neighbor’s missing cat— he’d even let you keep one on the door to his store until you told him they found it.

The truth is that your soul is so beautiful and full that he’d want you no matter what you looked like. If only he had the courage to say that. But it's easier to hide behind snark.

“It feels so good,” you whine. “I wish I could put my mouth all over it. Bet you’d fill me so good.”

A growl escapes with his exhale and he guides your fist up and down the girth between your legs with increased vigor. He gently leads you by the dick, pulling you closer to the bed until your knees hit the side.

“Look in the mirror, Y/N. Watch,” he whispers in a low tone, almost begging you to keep your eyes on the reflection.

You do as he says and watch in awe as a set of manicured fingers tap against your chest and trail down to the cock still nestled in your fist. They work their way beneath your palm and shoo your hand away. Even knowing that Yoongi is behind the action, the sight of your hands stroking that perfect cock sets a fire of desire coursing through your veins.

You watch in the mirror as your lips plant kisses on the dark hair beneath Yoongi’s navel. You watch as your head sinks lower and lower until soft, plush lips are skimming the tip of his dick. You watch his length slide into your mouth and immediately your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands are already reaching up to stabilize your stance even as he glides his tongue against you. The pleasure is unlike anything you’ve felt before, but having your clit sucked and teased comes close. It’s heaven. You whimper a tortured sound sitting somewhere between the boundaries of pleasure and anguish. He plays your role so well, maybe even better than you could play it. You attempt to distract yourself from the nervous tremble of your thighs by gathering bits of his hair in your hands and balling it in your fists. He gargles out a muffled moan against you.

“I look so good sucking your pretty cock,” you whisper in awe.

He leans back to swipe his tongue over the slit and then sinks back down, nose hitting the tuft of dark hair at your pelvis as you bottom out in his throat. Your grip around his hair tightens with the slight rock of your hips. You press his face against your crotch like you never want him to leave. The pair of you look so fucking hot. You’re revelling in slow, shallow thrusts deep in his throat when he makes a gagging noise you know all too well. He grips your thighs and you immediately release your hold while pulling your hips back.

“Fuck I’m so sorry!” Heat rises in your face and you want to run and hide.

He rests his palm on your waist and catches his breath, a trail of sticky precum and thick spit connecting his mouth to your cock. It involuntarily flexes and bobs up towards your stomach and then back down, which severs the path of saliva.

“Don’t be. That was hot.” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Yoongi, you didn’t have to! I mean I was curious but I—”

You’re cut off by his harsh tug on your hands. You stumble forward and meet his dark gaze. How can he make your eyes look so hungry?

“I’m a firm believer in never asking someone to do what I wouldn’t. I like to know what I’m giving, don’t you?”

“God, I wish that were me. I want to taste you so bad,” you whine, licking your lips as you spare a glance down at the glistening appendage standing at attention between your legs. “Wanna taste you dripping off my tongue.”

“You can,” he assures you in a soft voice, cupping your face with his hands.

His lips are on yours in an instant and you’re moaning against them like you’ll never get enough. The salty tang on his tongue transfers to yours as it dips into your mouth. You wish you could take him into your mouth yourself, but this is a good substitute for now.

"You taste good," you pant between kisses. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

He pulls away to shrug, cocking his head to the side and focusing on your neck. "If you want something you have to speak up. No one can read minds and even if they could, often times people are so wrapped up in their own heads they'd never see what you think.”

"Wow, getting philosophical on me, huh? So… What? I'm just supposed to say, ‘Hey yoongi you're hot. Wanna fuck’?"

"That's a little blunt don't you think?" He laughs, allowing you to push him back onto the mattress. "Been holding that back long?"

Your heart skips a beat, heat flushing your ears. "Maybe. Would it have made a difference?”

He ponders this for a moment as he squints at the ceiling in concentration. "Mmm. I'd say you should at least buy me dinner first… "

You scoff. It’s not a no but it’s not an enthusiastic yes either. You climb onto the mattress, trying to ignore how casually he lays in your bed, completely barren before you.

He rolls onto his side and props his head up to survey your approach. You seem a little nervous so it’s easier for him to fake confidence for both your sakes. "I guess we're both guilty of not saying what we mean."

"What is it you really mean to say then?" If he’s got a juicy secret he’s been holding in, then you want to know to salvage what’s left of your pride.

"I give you shit but I like that you come into the store every day to get your muffin and your gross energy drink. I like when you come back in after just to bitch about your day and pretend like you need a snack that I never see you eat. I like when you ask me about my day, even though you know I’m shit at conversation. It makes me happy because I care about…" he hesitates when he sees your smug grin. "...”

“Yes?” you prod.

He draws a deep breath from his belly. “You. I care about you. I’ve never found an opportunity to tell you that I like you. I’m always working, keeping my store afloat, focused on the numbers and the success of my business. But I see you coming out of that building every day. I watch for you to make sure even after a year of this that you’re still coming here first. It’s crazy but you put me at ease and make me anxious at the same time. I feel like I know you, like I’ve known you all my life.”

He pauses to allow you to interject. When you don’t, he continues, “I feel it in my bones when you smile at me, when you roll your eyes at me, when you try to make me laugh... You’re so easy to fall for. I know that I’m not, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like you want to. I want you to. I wish you would come back when I’m locking up for the night so that I could see you outside of work, so I could take you out, so I could take you home. A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say.”

“Yoongi…” you finally whisper.

Your face scrunches up like you’re about to cry and he grimaces at you, knowing you’re definitely about to do just that.

“Don’t do that. My cheeks look so fat when you do that. Hey, are you listening? Don’t make my face look so ugly!”

His attempts to make you smile simply causes the tears to fall from your eyes. You melt into his embrace, burying your face against his neck as you sob. He places a tentative palm on the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, planting a kiss against your hair, “if it’s just me.”

“No, I feel the same way,” you admit, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “You say you’re hard to love but how can that be true when I feel what I feel so easily? I will wait for you to close your shop and walk you home every day if you let me. I will be yours, if you let me.”

He turns your head so that he can bring his lips to yours. They taste salty again for entirely different reasons. Can you feel the way he’s trembling right now? All the relief in the world can’t assuage the ache of carrying such a burden in his chest for so long. The adrenaline is coursing through him like a wildfire, spreading until his lungs are burning with a heat he can’t quell.

“Mine, then,” he whispers, allowing the tears to stream down his cheeks freely. “Mine.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a passionate kiss that threatens to steal every last bit of oxygen from your lungs. He growls into your mouth, claiming every inch inside with his tongue. He grinds his hips upwards and it’s then you remember that you’re naked and you have a dick that’s still half-hard and growing harder by the second.

You groan loudly. “Fuuuuuck. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

He pulls back to bite his lip, the intrigue in his features apparent. “You want to try it?”

“I mean… you sucked your own dick for me. You don’t owe me anything—”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I want to try it,” he says, wriggling his hips beneath you. “Fuck. Me.”

“This is still so weird,” you say with a giggle, your eyes rolling back into your skull when the tip of your cock glides against his clit. “Ah…”

The pair of you pause and slowly repeat the motion. You can feel how wet he is and instead of being embarrassed like you would be in his place, you find it incredibly hot.

“Do it again,” he pleads, spreading his legs further apart to allow you better access.

You look down, pressing your thumb into the base of your cock and carefully glide the tip across the folds between his legs. He hisses an expletive between his teeth when you drag it past his clit and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers through frantic panting and sloppy kisses.

You feel a cramp in your thigh and pull back to nurse the ache. He whines when you slink away from his body, missing the friction on his clit already, although he’s satisfied enough when you circle one of his breasts with your tongue and take a nipple into your mouth. You press light circles into his clit with the pad of your middle finger until you can feel his legs flexing around your body like you’re not giving him enough. His fingers dive beneath yours to tease the swollen bud.

“Let me feel,” he pants. “Let me learn where to touch.”

You carefully guide his movements for a minute while treating his other nipple to the pleasures of your tongue. He seems to get the hang of stimulating himself pretty quickly so you turn your attention towards his thighs. You sink between them and begin kissing the sensitive skin beside his folds. His thighs twitch when you trace circles around his entrance with your tongue. You briefly pause to inspect your fingernails, making sure none of them are a jagged mess from the way he’s bitten them. When you’re satisfied with your inspection you peek up at him.

“You want to try my fingers first?” you ask, feeling envious that you can’t be riding three of them to the knuckle right now. “I can show you how my mouth feels too, though I doubt I’m an expert on that.”

“I don’t care about that.” He lifts his hand so he can peer down at you from between his tits. “I’ll take your mouth anywhere you want to give it.”

He watches as you flick your tongue across the sensitive, slick bundle of nerves. He bucks his hips as you clamp down and roll your tongue back and forth over it. His pretty painted nails look so good digging into your ebony hair. It’s not long until you dip a finger inside his cunt, teasing until you’re bobbing it in and out at a decent pace.

“Oh…” he says, as if he’s surprised that the experience is so pleasurable. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck. I’m gonna....”

You push another finger into him, curling the longest digit as far as you can to try and reach the g-spot you know is hiding nearby. When you finally get it he grips your shoulders and arches his pelvis off the ground like he’s committing to a new yoga routine. You recognize the stiffness in his limbs, the involuntary tremble of his thighs beside your head, the heaving of his chest and the frantic nonsense spilling out from his lips. You focus your energy on his clit, replacing your mouth with your hand since you have more confidence bringing about his climax this way.

His hips stutter and you know he’s riding the line. It’s a little bit more difficult to find that perfect rhythm when your hand isn’t in it’s normal position. The way he sucks in a breath to release his needy whines almost makes you feel guilty. It’s not like you’re trying to edge him but you’re not able to keep that pressure as consistent as you’d like.

“I’m so close,” he pants. “But I keep losing it. I’m sorry.”

You’ve been there plenty of times but you’re desperate to make him cum.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Rub it, baby. You know what feels good,” you whisper, shifting your attention to fingering his cunt. You don’t call attention to the pet name, but it feels so natural falling from your lips in this moment. You hope he doesn’t mind.

In an instant his fingers replace yours on his clit and he’s building back up. His thighs quake and his back arches off the mattress one more time and you know it’s coming. He’s about to reach his peak.

He takes a sharp inhale and where you expect the loud wails you would normally make while riding out your high, there’s quiet shuddering and softy breathy moans that linger in the air around you. He grabs your wrist with an ironclad grip as soon as he rides the last wave and his sweaty thighs fall limp around your face. You’re grinning like an idiot as he pulls you by the hair towards his lips, desperate to feel you, to taste you. His tongue is exploring every bit it can, trying to steal the essence from your mouth.

“Mmm. I want to taste that sweet pussy every day.“

“Do you… Still want me to fuck you?” You’re really trying not to sound hopeful but you can’t stop thinking about it.

He smirks and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Let me feel how well my cock fills you.”

“Do I need a condom?” you ask. “Are you clean?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd question. “That’s up to you. I haven’t had sex in four years. I’m clean. If you’re not worried, I’m not worried.”

“Four years is a long time,” you mumble, suddenly feeling pressure perform well. “I have an IUD so if you’re okay with it…”

“I wanna know how it feels.”

As soon as you line yourself up with his entrance you’re sweating like you’ve never sweated in your entire life. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re hoping it doesn’t suck. It doesn’t take a genius to sense your nerves. He reaches out to cup your stubbly jaw.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to. Just… tell me if I’m hurting you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

You let the tip dip inside and descend into his cunt slowly, knowing the thickest part of your dick follows the tip immediately. The stretch must be delicious. You’re distracted by how tightly his walls are clamping down on you. It’s tempting to bury yourself in his warmth as quickly as possible but you show restraint. His breath hitches as he adjusts to your girth and you freeze. Has your body ever taken someone as thick as him? You can’t recall. Probably not.

“Keep going,” he coaches, grabbing at your ass to press you further inside until you’ve bottomed out.

Your head hangs down as you try not to let the sensation overwhelm you. His lips find yours, helping you climb back down from the high. You slowly move your hips back, already missing the tight warmth hugging you. It takes a few more slow thrusts until you’re pumping into him at a relatively steady pace.

“Sorry if my rhythm isn’t good. I’ve never done this,” you manage to say between heavy breaths.

“You’re doing fine. This feels amazing. What are you talking about?”

He could be lying to make you feel better but it’s working. He puts his hands by his head to indicate he wants you to hold them. You immediately twine your fingers in his and press the back of his hands into the mattress.

“Yeah? It feels so fucking good, Yoongi.”

“It does... But I know you can fuck me harder than that, Y/N.”

You can already feel the tightness you’re holding back, a pleasurable pressure building in your pelvis that warns you of the imminent orgasm you can only stave off for so long. You can’t help but slam your hips in harder and faster at his request. The sound of balls slapping against skin fills the room and he moves his hips to meet yours. His breathing grows labored but you know he’s not about to cum again. You’ve never gotten off from penetration alone and there’s no way your sloppy performance will cause that miracle to happen now.

“There you go… Fuck. That’s it.”

“I��m gonna pull out,” you warn, feeling like you’re testing your own limits with every thrust.

“Already?” he teases, digging his pretty fingernails into your back.

“It feels… too fucking good, Yoon…” You wish you had more stamina. “Gonna cum on those pretty tits.”

“Yoon?” He chuckles, now distracted by the way his tits are bouncing with each slap of your hips.

“Just wait until I’m back in that body riding your cock. See how long you last then.”

“Is that a promise?” he questions, cupping your jaw to kiss you.

“...Yeah...”

He can feel the difference in your pace, in the shivers of your body. You’re about to cum. He turns your face towards the mirror so you can see how fucked out your reflection looks. It’s intoxicating seeing Yoongi’s body so needy and desperate.

“Look at you. You’re not gonna make it to these tits.”

“Fuck…” you bite your lip and try to slow your pace but it’s too late. The tension and pressure bursts from the head of your cock like a confetti popper on New Years. With a few, strong pumps you spill your seed into his warm cunt. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cummmph--”

Yoongi brings your lips back to meet his to muffle the unexpected sounds of your orgasm.

“Oh my goooood. You’re so loud,” he teases when you finally come down, but you’re too spent to refute him.

There’s another twitch in your dick and you lay there with your mouth open, trying to regain sense of your faculties. He intentionally clenches around your softening length and every muscle in your abdomen flexes.

“Too much!” you shriek, pulling out and rolling off of him in one swift motion.

You let your sweaty back hit the soft duvet, trying to recover from the sensation. He laughs, angling his legs towards the mirror. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he spreads his legs and swipes at the cum dripping from his cunt, pushing it back inside with his fingers and releasing a soft sigh. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen yourself do, and you’re not even doing it.

When he’s satisfied that he’s pushed it all in, he lays down next to you. The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence for at least a minute. Is it awkward or was it just that good? You can’t tell the difference right now and it’s making you anxious. He covers your hand with his and looks over at you with a warm smile.

The anxiety-driven words come out before you can stop them. “You should pee. You don’t want a UTI and neither do I.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

About an hour has passed in awkward silence as the two of you conduct research on what the fuck happened to you. You haven’t talked about what you both did in this bed, but the smell of sex still hangs in the air. As soon as you both put your clothes back on it was like a switch of modesty came back into play, and you feel too shy to point it out. You don’t know what to say, so you’ve just been clicking on every link you possibly can to fill the silence as he scrolls through articles on his phone nearby. It’s uncomfortable and you hate it.

“I think I have something, maybe,” you say, scrolling through the 90s looking website you’ve been exploring for the last few minutes.

Yoongi scoots closer to you and furrows his brow as he squints to read the sloppy banner at the top of the page. “The Unsolved?”

“I know what you’re thinking. Conspiracy theorists are insane, I know, but—”

You reach for the trackpad at the same time and your fingers brush, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. You stare at the keyboard for a second and chew on your lip, allowing your eyes to dart towards your periphery without moving your head. When he doesn’t say anything you clear your throat and scroll with the trackpad.

“But, look.” You point to the two embedded images triumphantly.

“Necklaces.” He cocks his head to the side and reads the text underneath aloud. “‘An Amulet of Discord is used by an Agent of Chaos to spread mischief and debauchery in the universe. It can be split into two halves to displace unsuspecting victims from their bodies. A glamour will protect the Amulet once the ritual is complete, making it impossible to see or touch. In order to reunite the victim with their body, the Agent responsible must be compelled to remove the glamour and mend the fragmented pieces into one.’”

“Last night I had one of those chincy friendship necklaces on and I definitely did not put it on. It looked a lot like the ones that weird guy tried to give us at your shop yesterday. I tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. Then it disappeared.”

“This sounds insane,” he muses, mulling over the information.

“Did it happen to you too?”

“I thought I saw one briefly, but… It was gone when I looked again. I thought I must be seeing things.”

“It’s gotta be it!”

Yoongi furrows his brows as you scroll back up to the navigation, not sure if he fully believes in this explanation. “What’s an Agent of Chaos anyway?”

“I guess they like… cause mayhem for fun? I don’t know, the description said something about pleasing a patron that they get their powers from.”

“Like a god?”

The thought makes him uneasy. If a god of chaos exists then surely there are more out there. If gods exist but they do nothing to balance out the cosmic injustices of the universe, are they really gods or more like demons? He feels like he’s about to have a full meltdown over something he can’t understand or control.

“Maybe. It doesn’t describe them at all. But…” You give him a reassuring smirk. “It does give instructions on how to trap an Agent. We just need a little more space and some chalk. We’ll draw him out, trap him, then make him undo his magic. What do we have to lose?”

His heart feels lighter when you look at him so softly. “Makes it sound simple when you say it like that. Also, slightly insane.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The website was very lax on defining the ‘discordant energy’ needed to summon the agent, so the pair of you have been improvising. Yoongi suggested moving into the store for the space you needed, but you have a feeling he’s just anxious about it being closed for the day. It’s fine. You don’t want to constantly be thinking about the sex neither of you are acknowledging right now. Yoongi is brushing his teeth after drinking a bottle of orange juice.

You grimace at him. “You really think that’s gonna do it?”

He stops mid-brush, his mouth full of foam and garbling his words. “It’s better than doing nothing. How are you helping?”

You give the sunglasses rack a slow spin. “I drew the sigil on the floor. If we’re gonna trap him we need to be ready. Were you able to find anything else?”

He clicks on your laptop a few times before hurrying into the back room. He reappears a moment later, wiping at his mouth. “That was gross.”

You watch him concentrate on the screen, trying to forget the way it felt to kiss him everywhere he would let you. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when there’s this feeling lingering in your uneasy stomach. Are you doomed to never speak of the things that made your heart flutter?

“ A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say .”

You tell yourself you imagined those words, that you wished them into existence. You turn the rack of cheap sunglasses again. Even if you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn’t find it with the way your mind is wandering. You look back at Yoongi, debating whether or not you should speak up about the uncertainty in your gut.

“Keepsake!” he says excitedly, running out from behind the counter. “It says they often leave something behind so they can return to observe their work.”

His sudden movement makes you jump and loudly smack your hand against the stand in a panicked attempt to look inconspicuous. He pauses to look at you and raises an eyebrow but you’re already laser-focused on the rack again. Desperate to hide your growing embarrassment you pluck a pair of sunglasses that is strikingly similar to the ones you’d seen the man wearing that day.

As soon as you put them on you inhale sharply. “What the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi wonders. “What is it?”

“There’s something written… on the fridge.”

“What? Where?”

You lift the glasses up to be sure you can’t see the letters scrawled on the glass without them. The message disappears. Once you place them back on the bridge of your nose they practically glow, beckoning you towards them. You push past him on your way to the drinks section. “Here. It says… Now you have… specs appeal?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It was a solid pun.”

The pair of you look towards the sound of the stranger’s voice. Instead of forming words you exclaim a sound of surprise. He looks confused.

“You’re going to need to speak clearly. I’m not sure I understand your language.”

“You! You did this!” you shriek, taking a step forward.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the man says with a puff of his cheeks. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “It’s not nice to accuse people of things. Have I done anything? Are you sure you’re not dreaming?”

A haze of golden dust spreads across the room like twinkling stars. As you blink and rub at your eyes you yawn and feel a sudden urge to lay down.

“Mmm. I am sleepy…” you admit as you sink to your knees.

Yoongi looks down at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You laugh and lazily grapple with his leg. “Come lay down. Please? It’s made out of feathers.”

Yoongi watches you close your eyes. Suddenly your body falls limp at his feet. He crouches down to cradle your face in his hands, your name an urgent plea on his lips. “Y/N. Y/N wake up.” He pinches your cheek but you don’t respond.

“She wants this to be a dream. Don’t you?” The man takes a few casual steps forward.

“No, I don’t,” Yoongi growls. The threat sounds odd coming from this body, tone too meek to pass for intimidating. He glares at the man after reluctantly tearing his eyes from your sleeping form. It may be his body on the floor there, but you’re trapped inside it. “Wake her up.”

“She’s tired!”

Yoongi rises to his feet and shields your unconscious form as the man creeps closer. “Don’t take another step. You’re going to regret it.”

“Threatening me? Hah… You’re pretty bold, considering you’re not really in a bargaining position. Spunky! I’ll give you that. Say, I’m curious. What do you think I am anyway? I’ve got a bet going and I know I’m gonna win because I’m right, but I need proof. So if you wouldn’t mind speaking into this...”

Out of his pocket comes a microphone. He holds it out like he’s giving the most intense interview of his life as he awaits Yoongi’s response.

“You’re… Some kind of trickster.”

The man sucks his teeth and shoves the microphone back in his pocket. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. So much for my bet… Come on. Don’t you think I look more like a god?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you work for one,” Yoongi muses, “but you sure aren’t one.”

“Wooooow….” The man sighs in disbelief. “The disrespect! At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that. I— ”

The stranger’s body seizes up as he takes another step forward. ”Ow!” His body convulses for a second before he regains his faculties. He looks down to find the sigil scrawled in chalk around his feet. Try as he might to scrape the markings off with his heel, his shoes are unable to scuff the powder. He furrows his brows and throws his hands in the air.

“Really? Are you kidding me? An integrity prison? Where did you learn this?”

Holy fucking shit. It worked, Yoongi thinks. He’s never been more relieved in his life.

“Wake her up,” he repeats calmly.

“I was gonna,” the man pouts, slumping into a cross-legged sit. “But now I really don’t want to. Would it kill you to have manners? Look at this. You’ve put me in a difficult little pickle here.” He reaches behind his back and pulls out a jar full of dill pickles. He fishes one out and takes a loud, crunchy bite. “I was just having a little fun and now I’m stuck here, doomed to this ugly little space.”

Yoongi crosses his arms, quickly losing patience. “Stop being dramatic.”

The man glowers at him and crunches on the last bit of the pickle with slow, loud chewing.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Please, stop being dramatic.”

With a surprised nod, the man gulps down the pickle and hops to his feet. “Well, you said please, at least. Was that really such a big... dill?”

Right as Yoongi groans, the man snaps his fingers and flexes his pointers into finger-guns. You immediately yawn and sit up.

“What happened?” you mumble.

Yoongi offers you a hand and you take it, rising to unsteady feet. He wraps a hand around your waist to support your weight. “You took a nap but you didn’t miss much. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you murmur, the haze lifting from your sleepy eyelids. You gasp as your eyes focus on the man trapped between the center aisles. “Huh! We got him!”

“Yeah, yeah. Time to celebrate. You trapped me. Good job.” The sarcasm in his tone is evident, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. Confetti falls from above your heads, showering the pair of you in glitter and shiny streamers with the flick of his wrist. “Now let me out.”

You’re blown away by the bizarre moment, springing forward and out of Yoongi’s grasp. “Magic? Then, are you really… a god?”

The man pats his pockets frantically. “Finally! Someone with a sense for my greatness! Ugh! I should have been recording. Damn! Where’s my microphone?”

“Gods don’t get trapped with chalk,” Yoongi says, folding his arms and tapping his toe impatiently. “This guy is an underling. Hey! Don’t get too close!”

Your mouth hangs agape in awe as you approach the man. Scrutiny must be new for him because he seems stunned. That wide-eyed expression is erased quickly enough when he strikes a heroic pose, planting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out. His pecs and shoulders seem to inflate when he inhales, causing them to swell into well-defined muscles.

“Oh.” You blink a few times, entranced by the sudden transformation. You reach your hand out as if to touch the meaty bicep practically bulging from his sleeve. “Who… What... are you, really?”

“Y/N!” Yoongi’s hands enclose around your waist, pulling you back into him just as your hand is about to break the barrier.

The man’s muscles deflate with his held breath as he bursts into a fit of squeaky laughter. “Oh! I almost had you!” He wheezes a squeaky sound through his inhale that you can only guess is laughter. He clears his throat. “My name is Jin. Matchmaker…” He holds up two matches in his hands and sets them alight with a flick of his wrist.

“Lover...” He winks and the matches disappear. In their stead are two roses. He tosses them at the two of you but when you go to catch yours it disintegrates.

Yoongi catches the disappointment on your face and thrusts the flower towards you, hoping it will restore the shine to your eyes. You give him a big, cheesy smile as you dust glitter from his hair.

“Ah… And! Balancing agent…” He stands on one foot as a seesaw appears to lift him into the air. He jumps down triumphantly with a bow. “At your service.”

You clap enthusiastically until you look over at Yoongi, who looks less than amused. You then nudge him with your elbow until he gives a solitary clap.

“What’s a balancing agent?” Yoongi asks dryly.

“We restore balance to the world. Things that are too uniform need a little chaos. Things that are too chaotic need to be put back into line. In our down time we like to have fun in our own ways. Me? I like to set people up.”

“So you’re not an Agent of Chaos?” you ask, disappointed that the conspiracy theorist page that led you to this point isn’t exactly the fountain of knowledge you had hoped for. There’s so much you don’t know.

Jin looks at you, clearly confused. “I mean some people call me Cupid, but I guess you can call me that. Has a nice ring to it. My powers are more inclined for chaos.”

“Cupid?”

“What? I’m a romantic. I can see the strings of fate! Also I may have a penchant for mischief, but that’s neither here—” He points at his feet. “Nor there!” He points at the shelf beside you which causes a bag of chips to burst, sending its contents everywhere.

“Hey!” Yoongi yells. “Are you going to pay for those?”

“Yoongi…”

“What?”

You can tell he’s irritated but clearly this guy can do a lot more than pop a bag of chips from across the room. You don’t want to fall on the bad side of his magic but you don’t exactly trust Yoongi’s mouth to keep you in Jin’s good graces.

“Stop being rude,” you whisper through clenched teeth.

He scoffs and answers you in a hushed tone. “How am I rude? He’s making a mess!”

“Then we’ll ask him to unmake it.” Your irritation heightens the volume of your voice to the point where it’s barely a whisper anymore.

“He’s playing with us. I’m through asking.”

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

Jin laughs. “See, this is what I mean. Fate is practically screaming for me to help you. Chaos is just an added bonus for this boring town.”

You both look at him and ask in unison, “What?”

He points to the both of you. “Look.”

As you turn back to face Yoongi you’re shocked to see a pale blue orb glowing above his head. “Huh? What’s that?” You reach out to touch it but your hand passes through it without any change.

“You have one too,” he mumbles, squinting at the way a thin line seems to stem from it. Then he sees another. And another. It looks like a shiny, glittering web that splinters into a thousand different directions. His brows furrow as he inspects the tiny threads. “Do you see them?”

Your gaze follows his pointer and suddenly you can see the branching strands too, not just yours, but his as well. It’s beautiful. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. Seeing the trepidation written on your face he silently beckons your attention to his finger, which is pointing to a thread that is golden instead of a pale blue hue. It’s the only one of its kind in the intricate glittering lattice between the two of you. You follow his pointer as it traces the path that stems from your orb until it gets closer to his and then you take over, finishing the path with your finger to the point where his orb engulfs the line.

“What is it?” you wonder aloud.

“A string of fate,” Jin answers with a wistful sigh. “It’s always exciting to see one, isn’t it? It means you’re soulmates.”

“Hah. Bullshit,” Yoongi responds, waving the air with his hands as if to disrupt the strings. They remain intact. “You just like causing mischief.”

Jin puffs his cheeks and scowls. “I can lie about a lot of things, but the strings aren’t one of them,” he huffs. “Why would I need to do that? What’s more unpredictable than true love slapping you in the face?”

He makes a motion with his fingers and sweeps them towards Yoongi.The compulsion rises and you’re powerless to stop it. Your hand moves of its own accord and lightly slaps Yoongi across the face. He looks betrayed as he rubs his cheek.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!”

The tingle in your arm causes it to move back towards him in a gentle swoop. Your wrist is limp as it smacks into his chin and rubs back and forth as if to comfort him. Jin bursts into a fit of laughter as he breaks the compulsion.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, stomping up towards the circle around the stranger. “Just change us back and you can go on causing problems elsewhere.”

“I can’t,” Jin answers simply, crossing his arms. “The charm will break only under specific conditions.”

“And those are?”

Jin shrugs with his bottom lip protruding as he frowns. “It’s different for everyone.”

“Of course it is.” Yoongi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back towards you.

“There are some things you can try. Staples of the trade.” Jin notes some dirt beneath his fingernails and begins cleaning them. “Number one. Have you tried talking about your feelings?”

Yoongi’s gaze settles on yours and it’s like you can feel your heart stop. Say something. You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t come so you snap your jaw shut and stare at the glitter on the floor.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yoongi says as he folds his arms across his chest, trying to not get distracted by the breasts he inadvertently touches. He decides to drop his hands to his hips instead.

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okaaaay... Number two is filling the chaos meter. Go crazy. Do the unexpected.”

“I don’t know what we’d do,” Yoongi admits, pacing around the circle.

“What if we kissed?” The voice is soft and sweet.

He turns to face you, a combination platter of surprise and confusion. “But we did.”

“Reeeeally?”

Jin’s laughter makes him feel like a fool. He was convinced you said it, despite knowing your voice is not your own right now. How stupid could he be, walking right into that? He squeezes his eyes shut a moment and then focuses his attention on the captive.

While Yoongi is distracted you’re working a pack of mentos out of their packaging. You kneel down and twist the cap off one of the liters of cola placed on the endcap you. The hiss of the carbonation makes Yoongi shift attention.

Your name on his lips is half a warning, half a question loaded with uncertainty. You open another bottle beside it before he can get close enough and drop mentos into each. The liquid erupts into two fizzy fountains that reach the ceiling and spill back down to the floor. Yoongi takes off his hat and grips his hair like he wants to tear it out.

“What are you doing?”

“Filling the meter?” you answer meekly with a shug, stepping back from the puddle on the floor.

Jin roars with laughter. “Oh man. There is no meter, but that was delightful.”

Yoongi grumbles and goes back to the counter, grabbing the laptop and sinking down behind it to hide from the pandemonium of this situation.

“You’re the worst,” you mutter as you pass Jin. You quickly sit next to Yoongi on the floor.

“It was a joke!” Jin calls. “Come on, don’t leave me alone here.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as his fingers rapidly tap the keys. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know.”

“What are you looking for?” you whisper.

Yoongi listens for a minute to the grumbling of the man trapped in the circle nearby. “How to trick a trickster. I have a feeling we need him to undo it but he won’t come out and say it.”

You sigh and press your chin against his shoulder. “I’m tired.”

He looks over and tips his head down to nuzzle his cheek against you. “I know.”

“Huh?” Your vision diverts to a shiny blue can beside him. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He picks it up and quickly downs the last sip, the Hot6 Logo shining back at you in mockery. “I found it earlier and needed a pick-me-up.”

“Did you find more?”

“Nope. Just the one.”

“But…” you pout. “I wanted it.”

He holds the empty can out to you. “It’s grown on me.”

“I’m about to die without the sweet taste,” you whine, shaking the can to make sure there’s nothing left.

“You’re so obnoxious.”

He rolls his eyes and cups your jaw, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You don’t protest when he dips his tongue past your lips to rub against yours. You can taste remnants of the drink on his tongue. If Hot6 wasn’t your favorite drink before this, it is now.

“Better?”

“Maybe. Still not sweet enough.” You giggle.

He takes the opportunity to kiss you again, crushing your mouth against his in a deeper kiss. You’re practically melting into him as his tongue glides against yours, moving in a rhythm that you now crave. It’s so easy to forget everything else, where you are, what’s happened to you. He moves to straddle your lap, grinding down intentionally as he grips the back of your neck. He knows you’re half-hard already and fuck if he doesn’t just want to have you again. You’re the only thing that feels real right now.

He pulls down the zipper of the hoodie you’ve given him to allow access to his neck. It’s not until he allows you to latch onto the sensitive flesh there, with his hands buried in your hair, that he notices the security mirror. You’re so hot. He wants to be in you so badly but he’ll settle for you being in him right now.

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Suddenly he notices the other person in the mirror. Jin is sitting cross-legged on the floor in his invisible prison, resting his chin on a hand as he stares back through the reflection with eyebrows raised. Yoongi quickly clears his throat and climbs off of you. You blink in confusion at the disruption until he points at the mirror and then you cast your gaze at the floor.

“We should take care of this.” He runs his fingers through his hair to compose himself before placing the cap back on his head and focusing his attention back on the computer.

“Wow, you almost went there with me watching. That would have done it for sure,” Jin says, breaking into a grin.

“Come on!” you shriek, popping up from behind the counter. “Please, just change us back.”

“I told you. I can’t,” he repeats firmly. “I actually don’t lie as often as you seem to think I do. Maybe you should try having sex. They say the soul leaves your body for an instant when you reach the finish line, you know. It can’t hurt. Ohhhh wait a minute...”

He jumps to his feet after watching the guilt flash across your face. Your eyes seem to dart around him, but never land close enough to his. Blood rushes through your ears, drowning out all the sounds that aren’t your heartbeat.

He smiles wickedly. “Oh my god, you already did. I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t be curious? It’s only human to wonder. Oh, to be human… Seriously, have you tried talking about your feelings?”

You turn towards Yoongi and crouch back on the floor, disappearing from Jin’s view. He steps on his tiptoes to try and see around the counter before settling back on the security mirror. You can’t help but focus on his nosiness.

“Yoongi. I... Look. Can we go in the back? I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Jin clicks his tongue and sighs as the pair of you cross the store and slip into the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ You breathe a sigh of relief when Yoongi locks the heavy door behind you. He bites at his nails--your nails as he waits for you to say whatever you need to. You take his hands into yours.

“Things are weird right now and not just because of this,” you hold up his hands in yours. “Are you regretting everything now?”

He smirks and gives you a small laugh. He slinks away to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t regret anything. I mean what I said. I care about you. I just… I get embarrassed, I guess.”

He’s embarrassed? You didn’t think he was capable with how blunt he normally is. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m insecure. Sexy, right?”

Time seems to slow as he draws near. There’s a lighthearted laugh on his lips before they meet yours. It feels like the first time all over again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you throw your arms around his neck, desperate to get closer even though you’re already pressed up against each other. You lean into him as you gasp in his hot breaths between kisses. To counteract the weight you’ve pressed against him, he pushes you backwards. Your arms fly back to catch yourself as you stumble but you knock into a freestanding shelving unit. Cans of soup clatter to the floor and roll off in various directions as Yoongi steadies the rack to keep it from falling.

He sighs, dropping his forehead to your shoulder in defeat. “We should focus.”

You whimper and will yourself to move the pair of you away from the wire rack. You run your fingers through your hair and attempt to compose yourself. Everything feels like a dream. It’s hard to think with him consuming the majority of your thoughts. You clear your throat, hoping your mind will also clear with the action.

“Hey,” he says, fingers on the latch. He pauses to lock eyes with you. “It might have seemed like the heat of the moment, but I really mean what I said. So tell me you’ll stick around after this is done?”

You run up and lace your fingers in his free hand before giving it a firm squeeze. “Promise.”

As he opens the door Jin jumps like you’ve startled him with your presence. “Whoa, I thought maybe you’d murdered one another. I heard a loud bang.” His gaze drops to your entwined hands. “What? Did you finally embrace destiny?”

“Destiny. No destiny. It doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says calmly as he squeezes your hand. “This could all be a dream. But we’re here now. We care about each other in this moment. That’s real. That matters.”

Jin does a slow clap while grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wow! It usually takes people a few days, maybe a week!” He looks at his wrist as though he’s wearing an invisible watch. “It’s been, what, a day? You did good.”

“Does that mean you’re going to help us now?” You perk up immediately.

“I mean I think you’ve helped yourselves. You look happy. You’re comfortable, right? Can’t you just let me go and keep existing like this?”

When he’s met with silence he sighs. “Ahh, well there is one more thing you can do, I guess. Have you tried checking your pockets?”

His suggestion is met with eyerolls from the both of you. While nonsensical, the unexpected has become a staple of your current state of existence and you feel you owe it to yourself to at least entertain the possibility. Your fingers slip into your pocket and explore the ridges of the hard object nestled against the fabric. Excitement courses through you as you pull your half of the locket from the confines of your sweatpants. Dumbfounded, Yoongi sticks a finger into his tight jeans and fishes the other half of the necklace out of his pocket.

“Hah, I can’t believe you didn’t even look,” Jin says with a laugh. “Now put them on, place the pieces together and say ‘Me Hoy Nimoy.’”

You exchange a skeptical look with Yoongi but you both comply and blurt the phrase soon after linking the pieces of the necklace together. You hold your breath, waiting for something spectacular to happen but disappointment soon floods your lungs. Just as you’re about to speak up, Jin clicks his tongue.

“Ah, close your eyes. It won’t work if you’re watching.”

Yoongi grumbles. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Hey, some magic is shy. Follow the rules. Do you think I’m just making this all up?” he pouts.

Your answer comes in unison with Yoongi’s: “Yes.”

Jin looks hurt as he clutches a hand over his heart and staggers backwards. “Woooooow. Well, just do one more thing then. ”

A devilish grin soon replaces the expression and his squeaky laughter fills up the store. He points at the pair of you with both fingers and wags his fingers in circles. You feel compelled to turn in place. Yoongi matches the uneasiness in your gut with the panic in his eyes. You both spin in circles away from one another. Once. Twice. Three times. Just as you’re about to complain about the nausea churning fresh waves in your belly, Jin waves his hands inwards.

You’re lifted into the air. The toes of your sneakers leave behind squeaky skidmarks of rubber on the tile as the pair of you are dragged forward. Jin cocks his head to one side and examines you with an expression of stone. For a split second you’re terrified but then he breaks into a grin and snaps his fingers. His thumbs and index fingers form the shape of a heart as he holds them out and you drop to the floor.

Yoongi reaches out for your shoulder. There’s a soft tremble to his fingers as he pulls you close to him. When you look upon his visage you can already see his jaw transforming, a thin stubble growing in along its perimeter. Every time you close your eyes to blink more of his face has morphed back into his own. You look down at your own fingers and watch as the nails narrow and elongate. A glossy pink hue returns to them but the polish looks slightly less finished with the way Yoongi has gnawed on the edges all day.

Suddenly Yoongi is frantically scrambling to his feet, kicking off his shoes and working the zipper down on his jeans. Everything is quickly growing far too tight. The hoodie you’d given him just barely covers his crotch as he stands up straight. He looks over at you with a relieved sigh and cups your jaw.

“You good?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your chin. It takes all of your self-control to keep from licking it as it grazes your lip.

You nod, eyes falling to the necklace dangling over his sweatshirt. As soon as you reach out to yank it off, the trinket disappears in a puff of purple smoke with a clap of Jin’s hands. He holds them in place like a silent prayer just below his chin, a strained smile staining his face just above his fingers.

“So, here’s the thing. I’m gonna need you to hold up your end of the deal.”

“Fix my store first. Clean up this mess you’ve caused,” Yoongi says while taking a step in front of you.

Jin’s bottom lip protrudes into a pout as he eyes the puddle of cola on the floor. “I didn’t do that,” he complains under his breath.

It’s incredible how close he came to freedom, incredible and frustrating. His magic may not be able to touch or alter the circle, but you almost freed him with your ignorance. If the liquid had run close enough to seep into the chalk, he would be somewhere far more sunny and beachy right now. He’s earned a vacation for this milestone of success.

“Fiiiine,” he concedes.

With a snap of his fingers the store is spotless once more. While Yoongi inspects the area of the tile floor previously coated in cola and glitter, you glide your foot over the circle of chalk and break the seal that binds Jin to his current location.

“Finally…” he sighs, side-stepping out from the invisible barrier. “You’re welcome, by the way. Invite me to the wedding, okay? Don’t forget the little people who helped you on the way. As for me... I’ve got a date with the pearly beaches of Accord.”

He swirls his wrist in the air and the pair of ugly red mirrored sunglasses appear on his nose just in time for him to adjust them. He lowers the specs to give you a wink before snapping his fingers. Before you can even call out for him to wait, he’s gone in a puff of purple smoke that quickly dissipates. You’re left in stunned silence to contemplate your existence.

What are you supposed to make of everything?

As you stand there on the cusp of a mental breakdown, soft, velvety petals brush against your cheek to steal your attention. The scent of the flower overtakes your senses as Yoongi uses it to tickle your nose. You find him smiling back at you, almost like he’s too shy to speak, but then he does.

“Weird day huh? Can I have my pants back?”

You hum thoughtfully, making sure the shutters of the shop are still shielding you both from the outside world. “Would you mind if I wanted to get back in them later?”

He snorts, holding back a laugh. “Been waiting to use that all day?”

“No, I just thought of it right now. Aren’t I impressive?” you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You shimmy out of the sweatpants and leave them pooled on the floor, doing your best to walk past him with grace and seduction.

“So impressive.”

He offers an amused laugh when you bend over to pick up the garments he was so quick to discard when his transformation reverted. You spare a glance behind you to see if he’s looking at the way you so blatantly flaunt your ass. He’s in the middle of dragging his bottom lip through his teeth when your eyes steal his attention.

“Something wrong?” A wicked grin belies your innocent tone.

He exhales a long breath and shakes his head, turning his attention to pulling his pants up. “Impressive isn’t the word. You’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying you wanna make out?”

He’s quiet as he takes off the remainder of your clothes to reveal a muscular chest riddled with goosebumps. It’s hard to hide how your grin spreads wider as he approaches with them in hand. You’ve had dreams like this: he’s shirtless, asking you to take off your clothes so he can fuck you in his store. Right here with your tits against the cold glass of the fridge. It would be a dirty secret only the two of you would know and you’d think about it every time you’d come in for your energy drink.

You slowly lift the hoodie from your own body, trying to appear as alluring as possible. You make sure to arch your back as your breasts briefly catch in the fabric and then drop against your ribs, completely exposed to the chilly air. Much to your dismay he’s quick to spin away from you and mutters a “thanks” instead of naughtier offers.

He’s aware you might mistake it for rejection, but he’s hoping you don’t see the way his fingers tremble. It’s incredible how scared he feels being back in his own skin. The intimacy of your connection left a void behind that’s quickly filling with disquiet. He feels incomplete without a piece of you with him, lost in the vast emptiness of himself. How can he feel such need for you? His chest aches with the possibility that he won’t ever feel whole again. The bravery that possessed him while piloting your body has waned. Now that normalcy is somewhat restored, he has the chance to start processing the events of the day. A part of him begins to embrace the panic he’d previously pushed down and his confession replays in his mind as though he’s just spoken it.

It was a bold move, especially given the situation. It could have ended horribly. He puffs out his cheeks and holds his breath, trying to remind himself that it didn’t. It’s okay to let go of the anxiety over it, but he still feels so uncertain. Even turned away from you and fully clothed, he’s never felt more exposed and vulnerable. He tries to hide the burning of his ears by running his fingers through his hair and shielding them with his arms. He has to bring himself back or else you’ll be talking him down from a panic attack and he doesn’t want you to see him like that.

Stupid. Stop throwing yourself at him. You struggle to put on the tight clothing as quickly as possible. Tears threaten to fall as you awkwardly wiggle your jeans back and forth up your thighs and over the swell of your ass. You make sure to swipe at the corners of your eyes before clearing your throat to signify you’re fully changed. He spins to face you but everything he means to say gets lost on the way to his mouth. He freezes, overwhelmed by how beautiful you are even in this shitty lighting, and how thankful he is to be able to see you through his own eyes.

His heart pounds at the confines of his chest like it needs to burst from within. There’s a small burst of adrenaline that plumes from the explosion of butterflies in his stomach. It fills him with the courage he needs to close the distance between you with a kiss, the kind of kiss he’s been dreaming of giving you for months. Right here in this store.

He loves how eager you are to reciprocate when he tangles his fingers in your hair. He holds you there like you’re about to melt away in a puff of smoke. Your lips are so soft, so sweet, so warm pressing against his. His tongue rolls over yours, desperate to keep tasting and feeling more. You grasp behind his neck and dig your fingernails into his shoulder as he deepens the kiss. When you roll your hips towards him as a subtle test for determining his hardness, you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Not in the store.” He gives you one more chaste kiss and pulls back just enough to allow you both to breathe. He adjusts one of the boxes on the nearby shelves. “You already drive me crazy. If we do it here I’m going to be thinking about it every time I’m stocking shelves.”

“Yoongi…” you whine. “Please tell me you’re keeping it closed for the day.”

He sighs as he plucks his phone from the counter to check the time. “Might as well.”

“Can I walk you home?” You chew on your lip as you wait for his response. What you wouldn’t give to spend the night with him.

Unable to hide the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he nods his head towards the exit. “Why would we waste our time?”

Your heart sinks into your butt, thinking this must be it. He changed his mind after all. He hates you. There’s no doubt about it now. All you can manage is a squeaky, “Hmm?”

He rests his palm on the handle of the door and he presses his lips into a thin line, looking wide eyed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so adorably hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. “You live closer.”

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The comforter at your back is soft and cool to the touch as you scramble to settle yourself against the pillows. Yoongi wastes no time wiggling off his sweatpants and climbing over you. The sound of your panting mingles with his as he hovers above you with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. If the hurried ascent up the stairs wasn’t enough to have him gasping for air, the makeout session just inside your front door definitely has him devoid of oxygen. This still feels like a dream, but it’s one he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

"How do you want it?" he whispers. He glides a finger up your thigh and lightly traces circles around your labia.

Your mind travels back to your earlier experience of coming undone and suddenly your stomach is doing flips.

"Just like this," you answer. "I want to feel you just like this. Do you remember where to touch?"

He nods, skimming his parted lips over yours while he places his finger over the hood of your clit. "Like this, right?"

"More pressure," you plead, working your hips in circles to coach his movements.

He does as you instruct and clamps his mouth over yours in a futile attempt to find relief for the aching need to be inside of you. He grinds himself against your side, his cock rubbing against your soft, heated skin as he tries to remember the exact motions needed to elicit enough pleasure to make you cum. He doesn't have to wait long until frenzied, weak moans are vibrating against his mouth so he turns his attention to your neck. He wants to hear how fucked out you are. He wants to hear how badly you want to cum. He wants to feel you pulse around his fingers.

As he plunges a thick finger deep into your cunt, a pathetic, desperate sound escapes you. "Oh, fuck."

"Feel good?" he mumbles into the hollow space between your neck and shoulder.

"Please. Please. Please. Please," you whimper incoherently, bucking your hips to meet each thrust of his finger. You can feel his cock rutting against your side and all you can do is imagine that he's pumping it into you instead of his fingers. "Oh fuck, Yoongi."

His lips twitch into a smile as he feels you tighten around his finger. He kisses your neck and sinks a second finger carefully inside you. You allow your head to fall against the pillow and bite your lip to try to contain the drawn out needy groan already helplessly spilling out of you. So close. Your back arches off the mattress and he wishes he wasn't so concentrated on the motions of his hands right now because he would absolutely love to be tonguing your perfect tits.

He pants against your skin and looks at them longingly. Maybe he can manage it? He's determined to use what he's learned about your body to help you cum, but not yet. You can't help but whine at the loss as he repositions himself, which breaks the sightline you had on your orgasm.

"Yoooongi... I was close..." You whimper when he abandons your cunt entirely to press your tits together. His mouth is hot as it clamps down on your nipple, giving the peak a hard suck before dragging it through his teeth.

"I know. Wanna make you cum with my tongue," he murmurs into the supple flesh.

He swipes his fingers along your cunt and swirls the wetness over your clit before bringing it to his mouth. You can already see how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. The low moan that rumbles its way from his throat has you rocking your hips up against his pelvis as he settles between your legs. Your silent grinding isn't enough of a confirmation. He wants to hear you say it.

"Can I go down on you?" He blurts the shameless question while alternating between kissing both of your breasts and only pauses to meet your eyes.

You want to feel him everywhere but mostly you want his mouth on yours while he’s balls deep inside you. You don’t even care if you cum because being with him like this feels good. Being with him fills your heart with giddy hope and your stomach with butterflies. Being with him is enough. You want to tell him that but instead you nod and whimper out a pathetic “please.”

He wastes no time dipping his head down between your thighs to press the flat of his tongue against your clit. A low growl escapes with his exhale before he puckers his lips to kiss the soft skin and breathe in the heavy scent of your arousal. You’d be embarrassed if his tongue didn’t feel so magical. It glides against you so effortlessly, bringing pleasure with every quick flick against you.

Your hands dive into his hair and you start rolling your hips to grind his face harder against you. He doesn't seem to mind though. In fact he seems to embrace the motion, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you in as closely as possible. If you weren't so preoccupied with the orgasm building just below the surface of the place where his tongue keeps hitting then you might worry that he's suffocating himself. Right now all you can focus on is the pleasure threatening to break you open and leave you spilling a million curses into the air around you.

"Yoongi. Fuck. I'm close," you warn, as if the frantic way you've twirled his hair around each of your fingers isn't enough to tip him off. Do you really think he can't feel the shaking of your thighs in this moment?

He hums a sound like he doesn't hear you, but he doesn't let up at all. He keeps his pace steady for you as you approach your end once again. Your nails scratch against his scalp but he doesn't mind. He actually really likes the way you're losing your mind over the simple things he's doing with his tongue right now. He can't even begin to imagine the pretty sounds that might spew from your lips with practiced effort but he knows he can't wait to hear them.

Suddenly your hand flies up to pound the wall behind you and you announce the wave of pleasure coursing through your clit through the use of a loud string of expletives. He can feel the way your flesh pulses beneath his tongue and he revels in it. You ride his face so well. You can ride it for as long as you want as often as you want. He wants to tell you that but he also wants you to ride out your high for as long as it lasts, so he lets you buck your hips and raise your cunt off the bed. He lets you thrash around through the sensitivity until you're finally pushing his face off with both hands.

"Good? Do you need more?" he verifies, rising from between your legs to deliver a messy, wet kiss to your lips. He smirks through it, knowing he really doesn't need to ask at all to know the answer.

"Cheeky fuck," you murmur, not bothering to even attempt to hide your matching grin against him. "I need it."

"What do you need?" His fingers trail a soft line down your side, reminding you that his teasing nature is simply a front for his caring heart.

"I need you inside me." Your breathing is spotty as you pepper kisses along his jaw. "Like this. I want you to feel me the way I felt you."

It doesn't take long until you're tasting yourself on his lips again. He shifts slightly and you know he's lining himself up with your entrance when you feel the swollen tip of his fat cock nudging at your hole. He's slow to thrust into you. In fact he stills, only giving you shallow, teasing thrusts. He favors letting you wiggle down just a little bit to coax him in. He smiles against your lips and pushes in further, giving you that stretch you were hoping for.

When you suck in a sharp breath he pulls out, but as soon as you whine in protest, he's already carefully moving to slide it back in. The slow stretch has your jaw dropping open and he takes the opportunity to bite on your lower lip. You take the bait and feed him hungry kisses until he’s completely buried inside of your tight cunt. He takes a moment to growl a low sound that has you clenching around him.

“So tight,” he whispers, pausing to curl an arm beneath your head.

He presses the back of your hand against the mattress as he twines his fingers with yours. He drives himself deeper into you with each slow thrust and it feels like he still can’t get close enough. So you raise your other arm above you and angle it until you’re linking your fingers with the ones beneath your head. You kiss his cheek and savor the intimate moment.

When he lazily sinks into your cunt again you crack a smile. “Can't you fuck me harder than that?"

"Mmm." He lifts his head and seems to accept your challenge. His hips pull out slowly and suddenly slam back into you. This sets a new fervent pace that has you squeezing both of his hands. "What do you think? Is this better?"

You do little to actually answer his question and instead offer a slew of swears and moans each time his balls slap against your ass. "Shit. Fuck, fuck fuck. Yoongi..."

"What kind of answer is that?" he asks innocently.

"God, your cock..."

"Mhm," he prods.

"Feels so good, Yoon."

He chuckles. "Yoon... Cute."

"I'll show you cute," you huff.

"Oh?"

You release his hands in favor of pressing your palms against his chest. He pulls out and before you can miss the way he fills you, you're flipping him down on the mattress. You swing a leg over his pelvis and straddle him. It takes you a moment to properly position yourself. You give his length a few pumps in your hand before lining it up with your entrance.

"Careful," he warns, planting his hands on your thighs. "Don't wear yourself out."

You sink down quicker than you probably should. You're eager to make him cum faster than he did for you. The wetness in your core seeps down in translucent trails down your inner thighs. Your own brand of lubricant seems to be enough to keep the stretch pleasurable. Yoongi bites his lip as he gazes down at the way you're bouncing on his cock. You know how good it feels for him, especially with how hard your pussy is squeezing him.

"Don't worry about me."

The sensory overload building in your gut coated with the memory of the unique experience. It mixes with the high threatening to burn its way from your core. You take a deep breath and exhale loudly before you continue. You revel in a slow descent, memorizing every kind of way the stroke makes you feel. Then you begin to quickly draw him in and out of your cunt. The obscene sounds of wet, rapid slapping fill the room.

After a few minutes you've finally got a good rhythm down. Despite the cramp throbbing down your obliques, he's hitting that sweet spot inside you at just the right angle. If you didn't know any better you'd think you're about to cum again. You steady yourself on his chest and trail your hand to his stomach to maintain your balance. Trying to keep the unrealistic pace you'd previously set for yourself is proving difficult, but you swear you're feeling like maybe you're about to crest into the biggest climax of your life. Then again, it could certainly be the biggest letdown now that you're aware of it. Your orgasms have left you for less.

Yoongi knots his eyebrows together in concentration and he reaches down to rub circles against your clit. His fingers are clumsy and new to this angle but they're feather light. He can see in your face that you're chasing some great new high and he just wants to help you achieve it without overdoing it. He knows how shy your cunt is about giving you orgasms so he really wants to do it right. Is this right? He figures you'll tell him if it isn't.

You moan weakly in response. Suddenly, you know it's coming. You can feel it building every time his hips slap up to meet yours. "Oh my fuck."

His abdominal muscles flex beneath your palm and he forces his breaths through his nose as he struggles to keep himself composed. Your cunt is squeezing him so tightly that he knows he's on the brink of his own release but he's determined to help you feel as good as you make him feel.

"That's it. Cum for me again." He tries to coax it with those strong pleas, but his voice is broken with an inhale sharp enough to cut his words.

Both of your thighs are coated in slick sweat. You don't think you've ever felt so fucking wet in your life. He glistens just as much in the dim light so you know between the two of you there's a puddle of sweat soaking your sheets. It's easy to forget how gross or embarrassing it is when the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so well. Right now the only thing that matters is getting relief for this pressure building behind your clit.

Despite the shakiness of his fingers, he's able to coax it out of you. Your trembling thighs feel like an earthquake that's finally reached its peak tremor and you find yourself crying out and bouncing to the rhythm of your spasming cunt. You chant your praises and curses in the same breath. His name is a drawn out breathy expression of gratitude and bliss. As soon as you slump forward to kiss him he takes your hands in his own and frantically pumps himself up into you. He can still feel the involuntary flex of your cunt even after you've clearly expended every ounce of your energy reaching and literally riding out your second orgasm.

"Can I cum inside?" he asks between frantic breaths.

"Well, you're not gonna make it to these tits," you tease with a smirk. You may be spent but you'll always have the energy to give him shit. "Do it."

"So fuckin hot," he mumbles against your lips.

The muffled grunts expelled against your mouth and the slow, deliberate snap of his hips leave you in a state of surreal euphoria. He squeezes your hands in his along with his release to let you know this is real. You're here with him. When he comes down from his high he kisses you gently one more time and pulls back to look at you. You take the break in physical connection to roll off of him and stretch out your aching calves and let the air from the fan cool your skin. The tingling in your legs tells you not to get up right now, as much as the fear of a UTI screams at you to do the contrary. Instead you turn your head towards Yoongi and he smiles at you. Sleep threatens to take you when he begins to stroke your hair.

"If you'd have told me last week I'd feel this close to someone, I'd have laughed at you," he starts in a quiet voice, "but I feel really close to you. I'm glad this insanity happened to us."

"Me too." You can't help but smile back. "I don't want to go to sleep because I'm afraid you'll be gone when I wake up. What if this is a dream?"

"Then I'll find you when I wake up. You'd better find me too."

"What if we forget?"

He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I won't forget."

"Promise?"

"Mhm." He closes his eyes, clearly every bit as exhausted as you are. He's quiet for a minute and you think maybe he's already fallen asleep until he peeks out from under his eyelids. "... I think you need glasses."

"What?"

"I was just thinking. I felt like I was squinting all the time when I was you. Maybe that's why it took you so long to see how I felt." He shows off a big, toothy grin.

"Wow that guy really rubbed off on you, huh?"

You smack him in the face with a pillow when you get up.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The muffin and can of Hot6 sit on the counter, guarded by Yoongi's forearm.

"Wow, you already have my stuff ready? Is this the kind of perk I get for dating the owner?" you wonder.

He rolls his eyes. "Not yours until you pay for it."

"You're so sweet, not eating my muffin this time."

He drags his lip through his teeth and tries to hold back a devilish smirk. "I've found better things to eat, don't you think?"

Your heart thumps against your chest and you do your best to remind yourself that offering to suck his dick behind the counter is not what you should be doing in this situation. But you want it so bad. He watches your internal struggle with raised eyebrows and a smug smile. He slides the energy drink towards you.

"Here. This is on me today. You look a little thirsty."

Your shoulders raise and then deflate with your sigh. "Do you even want me to come back later?"

"What? It's free for you. You should be happy."

"And the muffin? What do I owe for that?"

He mimics your dramatic sigh and places it before you. "It's crazy. Your boyfriend offered to pay for that too."

"He's so generous." You shake your head but it can't keep the grin from your face. "Lots of free stuff today."

"It's a... special for today only. So don't get used to it or anything. But there is one more thing we're having a sale on, if you're interested."

"Hmm?"

"Free of charge, for you only." He taps his lips with both pointers, looking impossibly cute. His charm is devastating, really.

He cracks a smile and you feel yours grow impossibly wider. You lean over the counter and give him a sweet kiss.

"How long does this offer last?"

"As long as you want."

"Forever."

"Forever, it is." He gives you one more quick peck. "I've gotta mop the floor and you're gonna be late for work."

"Ugh. Wanna trade?"

He purses his lips and gives your hand a little squeeze. "Not a chance."

#smutcentralnet #yoongi smut #bts smut #similarly sequestered #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader

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leejeongz · 4 years ago

Text

treasure as your boyfriend - maknae line (asahi-junghwan)

hyunsuk-jaehyuk ver.

asahi: the “chaotic neutral” boyfriend

♡ his favourite date- the studio

♡ you can be as noisy or as quiet as you want. he works best when you’re with him, so he’s forever inviting you over. and he produces his best work when he’s around you and thinking about you. all the feelings he’s too shy to say to you come out in art form. you often get to hear and see everything before anyone else too.

♡ skinship- really not a fan of pda, but will allow himself to link arms with you in public if you want to. he would never force skinship for the sake of it but if your head naturally rested on his shoulder or if you snuggled up to him during a movie, i think he’d secretly like that. he really just likes casual hands brushing against each other, he gets butterflies whenever your hands come near him

♡ his love language- receiving gifts- he likes giving gifts too, but receiving them makes his heart flutter. you remembering little things about him makes him smile like a whole lot, especially when it’s something that he doesn’t even remember telling you or something of little importance.

♡ kisses- quite spontaneous but always very soft and meaningful. he’s so gentle with you, especially during kisses. his lips are super soft and so are his hands that rest on your hips. he was a little nervous for your first kiss so he kept his eyes open which spooked you a bit but now it’s a inside joke between you two.

♡ he does what he wants, you do what you want, he likes that and thinks it’s the best setup for the relationship because being clingy could make you hate each other

♡ he draws you. a lot. you might not know it, but you became his muse from day 1 and everything he draws has you in it

♡ when you've had a bad day, he sings for you and has lots of evident sympathy no matter what the issue is

♡ he’s VERY goofy around you. it takes him a while to become used to people so seeing that side of him makes you really soft. and if he knows you’re the same and you start acting a little more goofy, he starts to become even more comfortable around you.

yedam: the “your success is my happiness” boyfriend

♡ his favourite date- ice skating

♡ or anything wintery because 1 he likes to keep you warm, 2 he thinks you look cute all wrapped up in puffy jackets and jumpers and 3 it's not too hot to hold hands the entire time hehe. oh and also expect some singing from him if you get any alone time.

♡ skinship- a huge cuddly boy. he wants to be touching you all the time but he respects your want for space and privacy so he doesn’t. he LOVES holding hands, he’d do it all day if he could. seeing your cheek squished against his shoulder makes his heart melt too, so he takes pictures of it so it lasts longer hehe. he sometimes does that really cute thing where he links pinkies with you too 🥺

♡ his love language- physical touch- the way he just wants to be touching you all the time and you don’t get mad makes him SO happy. when you sit close to him, his heart races, never mind when you finally give him a hug or hold his hand. a lot of your relationship is long distance, even if you lived in the same house, he’d barely ever be there, so getting to cuddle you or be held by you is something that he looks forward to.

♡ kisses- if he’s refusing a kiss there’s something seriously wrong. his lips would constantly be attached to you if you let them. he likes holding hands during kisses and rubbing his thumb on your finger just for extra feels. omg eskimo kisses are his FAVOURITE. especially when his nose is cold just to tease you a bit

♡ he loves to secretly take pics of you and set them as his background because he thinks you look so adorable. we know he has a photography insta out there somewhere (drop the @ bro) and you’d be in like all of the pictures

♡ he writes love letters to you. they’re a little cringe so he signs them off as anonymous but obviously you know who they’re from since… well he’s your boyfriend

♡ he helps you study and build your confidence. he lets you borrow his notes and present stuff to him all the time, always giving positive and constructive feedback.

♡ he celebrates even the tiniest of achievements with you and shows you that there’s more to life than winning all the time

♡ if he can’t already speak your native language, he’d learn a few sentences and phrases like “i love you” and surprise you with them sometimes

doyoung: the “romantic but childish” boyfriend

♡ his favourite date- breakfast/brunch

♡ just making sure you get the most important meal of the day lol. it sets you both up for the rest of the day, especially if you can’t meet again until the day after. it also gives you chance to reflect on anything that may have happened that day before that you were maybe too sensitive to talk about previously.

♡ skinship- not the biggest lover of skinship but he isn’t opposed to it if you initiate it. he’s definitely one who prefers privacy so pda is off the table. he likes holding hands and staring into your eyes because they’re so pretty. ugh he’s so flirty and romantic 🤪

♡ his love language- acts of service- he’s a busy guy, he really appreciates when you do even the smallest of things for him like folding his clothes so they don’t get creased. your kindness is so attractive to him, it really confirms that he’s found the one.

♡ kisses- his kisses are a little messy but they’re always passionate. he just can’t contain his need for his mouth to be on yours, which actually happens quite frequently when you two are alone. he does that thing where he puts his hands on your waist, smiles at you flirtily, then pulls you in closer for the kiss which leaves you speechless every time.

♡ has your contact name in his phone set to just a heart and the picture is one that he secretly took of you on a date

♡ one of his favourite things to do is teaching you how to dance. whether you can already dance or not, he’s gonna teach you. just gives mr no skinship a chance to put his hands on you

♡ FLOWERS! he knows that not everyone is a fan of flowers but you will be while he’s around

♡ hands down the cheesiest person you know and usually you’d be cringing but because it’s him, it’s okay

♡ he’s always down to chat with you. at 1am, while he’s working or even when he’s with his family, he’ll drop anything to make you happy.

haruto: the “cool on the outside” boyfriend

♡ his favourite date- watching youtube

♡ you can learn a lot about a person by watching things they like to watch and taking an interest in something they’re interested in. you pair can share youtubers you think the other would like and just have a laugh together while being all cozy in bed.

♡ skinship- any and all skinship is appreciated by this guy, not that he’d tell you that. he secretly wants to cuddle with you all the time and hold your hand everywhere you go, but he always makes out like you’re the one who wants it by saying stuff like “gosh your hands are always so cold, here i’ll warm them for you”. his favourite are hugs where he just melts into your arms after a long, tiring day practicing. sometimes they’re just want he needs

♡ his love language- quality time- he wants to spend every second of every day with you. he wants to talk to you more on a one to one basis and he wants that time to be focused. when he finally gets time alone with you, he doesn’t waste any of it and gets straight to making memories with you that he thinks about all the time.

♡ kisses- longer kisses are super rare because he’s still quite timid and shy but the small little pecks?? he cannot get enough of them. he prefers to give them to you at random, surprising times because he likes it when you melt after it, he calls you cute every time awwww. he secretly enjoys when you kiss him in front of the members too even if he acts disgusted.

♡ ends all his messages to you with a heart WITHOUT FAIL

♡ helps you shop for clothes and jewellery. he picks out clothes for you and always manages to hit the mark

♡ creates a playlist of songs that have a special meaning within your relationship and constantly updates it

♡ does that thing where he gets so happy that you’re his that he can’t stop smiling, so much so that he can’t sleep

♡ he’s a little bit forgetful, but you always forgive him because he’s just so cute and he always makes it up to you anyway

jeongwoo: the “best friend” boyfriend

♡ his favourite date- skateboarding

♡ even if neither of you can skate, it’s fun and you can learn together. having fun when he’s with you is always the aim so anything like that is something he really enjoys

♡ skinship- skinship happens very naturally for you pair and it’s something neither of you have ever shied away from. he loves it when you hold hands and it makes him feel super proud that you can show him off like that. also loves when you let him rest his head in your lap and play with his hair.

♡ his love language- quality time- creating special moments with you is something that he will never forget and something that he’ll always bring up. he’s so grateful that you want to be with him and around him even at the most randomest times when you could be doing something else, but he loves it and he doesn’t ever want to see you leave.

♡ kisses- most are short and sweet but some, rare kisses can last for a while, where he smiles onto your smile because he just can’t believe what’s happening. he really likes those kisses but doesn’t initiate them all too often because he’s worried it’s the wrong moment. he actually asks the older boys for advice too 🥺

♡ tries to tease you and get the members involved but it always ends up backfiring and he ends up being the target

♡ a “remember when” type of guy, bringing up some of your most favourite and fondest memories

♡ is always up for absolutely anything you suggest. you’re the worst influences on each other (in the best way) but without those experiences, you wouldn’t have the amazing memories you have today

♡ wants to act like your protector and had you fooled for like a week until you realised he’s the one that needs protecting.

♡ when you compliment him, his actual self esteem sky rockets. there’s no more joking about how cool he is. your words mean the most to him (maybe his love language is words of affirmation too who knows hehe)

junghwan: the “first” boyfriend

♡ his favourite date- gaming together

♡ he loves to teach you and compete with you (because you let him win) and he thinks it’s cute and funny when you make mistakes or you do something really impressive

♡ skinship- he’s shy about it at first but warms up to it later. he never initiates anything because he doesn’t wanna overwhelm you. he doesn’t really like pda but he’ll do it for you, he’ll put his arm around your waist while you walk because it feels the most comfortable for him. it’s not skinship but just staring into each other’s eyes is something that happens regularly

♡ his love language- words of affirmation- hearing you saying he can do it only makes him more determined and, even though he doesn’t realise it, it actually makes him more independent. you know when he’s having a bad day, or if he’s got something important going on, so you drop him a little text which makes him so happy and he wants to make you proud (which he does and you tell him that all the time)

♡ kisses- kisses are something he craves a lot since the feeling of the first kiss you shared has stayed with him, but is always too afraid to make the first move. afterwards, he’s always a real giggly mess. every kiss is awkward with him at first since you’re both quite inexperienced, but soon you both start to understand what the other likes.

♡ he gets shy around you for ages because he likes you so much

♡ introduces “tech free” dates where neither of you can use your phone. they actually work really well for you two and you get to know each other a lot better

♡ works out what your love language is randomly one day, does his research, then slowly starts to implement it into your relationship

♡ a big hand holder when he senses you need nervous or anxious. he holds your hand for his own comfort as well as yours

♡ you share a lot of your firsts together, as well as being each other’s first relationship. it’s a time for him to learn and change so he appreciates any honesty, even if he does get a little bit sensitive about it sometimes.

#treasure #treasure reactions #treasure imagines #asahi #yedam #doyoung #haruto #jeongwoo #junghwan

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twotapbuz · 4 years ago

Text

This fic was inspired by this post by @swampythesweetsketch. I’ll post the fics for the rest of 1010 as soon as I finish them.

You were hired to be a personal bodyguard for Eloni

Along with the standard supplies(1010-themed uniform, flashlight, pepper spray, body camera), you were given a watch that would alert you to Eloni’s location whenever he was in trouble

This along with the job wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if it weren’t for the fact that neither of the other members of 1010 had personal bodyguards

You would soon learn why after your fourth concert

You had been approached by two lost fans that were looking for the meet & greet table when your watch suddenly began to beep rapidly. “Eloni must be in trouble,” you thought as you excused yourself from the duo and quickly hurried to the idol’s location. Eloni had somehow gotten to an alley near the venue. You weren’t really sure what to expect. Had a fan tried to kidnap him? You had heard stories from other security staff about crazy fangirls trying to take them or at least pieces of them. You reached the alley and found Eloni being hoisted by a group.

“Freeze!” you said while holding up your pepper spray. This diverted the group and they looked at you. “Drop the robot, now.”

“And if we don’t?” mockingly replied one of the “fans”.

“I’ll send this video to Neon J and have you banned from any future 1010 events.” you tapped your body camera. The threat of not seeing “the loves of their lives” caused the group to practically drop Eloni and they all scattered.

“Thank you.” Eloni got up. “You’re the first guard to catch them before they threw me into the trash”

“No problem, just stay away from alleyways.” you began to write an email, informing Neon J that Eloni had been safely retrieved. “ We wouldn’t want to-wait... the trash?” you stopped and looked up at him.

“Yeah, they usually throw me into the trash. One time I got thrown into a nearby pond.” Eloni admitted, embarrassed.

“And how often does this happen?”

“Around every other concert.” Eloni began to lean on the alley wall

“Yeesh, no wonder Eloni needs a personal guard,” you thought. “Wow. I knew the fans were a bit crazy, but I didn’t think they would go this far.” you tried to pick out your words carefully, trying and failing to not upset the robot.

“I just don’t understand why they hate me so much?” Tears began to fall down Eloni’s face. you froze, unsure what to do, before moving to comfort him.

“Hey, I’m um really sorry about what’s happening to you… if you want, I could maybe give you some advice?”

“Really?”

“Yeah” you looked at your watch. “We should head back to the venue, Neon J is worried about you.” Eloni wiped the tears off his face and began to walk beside you

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s not a problem.”

You unofficially become Eloni’s PR Manager:

After that moment, you would help Eloni with his image before every event(it was the only time you would see each other as you had no reason to be near Barraca Mansion, and giving Eloni your phone number would be unprofessional).

“You’re supposed to be the funny guy of the group, right?” Eloni nodded. “Well, give me a joke. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ok. What did the fish say when he swam into a wall? Dam.” Eloni shot finger guns at you. You stared at him. “Why do fish live in saltwater? Pepperwater makes them sneeze!” Eloni said, less confident.

“...I see. In the nicest way I can say this, you need new material, Eloni.”

“What? But I spent hours researching jokes on the internet!”

“That’s the problem. Everybody has heard of these jokes. If you want to be funny, you gotta be original. Here.” you handed Eloni a piece of paper. “There’s this restaurant in Dream Cast called The Mind Palace that hosts comedy hours every Saturday at 7 pm. I was going to go, but something came up, so you can have my ticket.”

“Really? Thanks!” Eloni smiled

-----------

“So, how was the show?” It was the Monday after the show and you were curious to hear Eloni’s new material.

“It was great! They’re definitely gonna love my new material!” Eloni pulled out his phone and began to show you a video. It was 1010 doing a tour around Vinyl City. Eloni paused the video and pointed at himself. He was dabbing. Between the Eloni in the video dabbing and real-life Eloni looking so proud, you couldn’t help but chuckle and this adorably dorky display. Eloni liked your laugh.

While the new material definitely got Eloni some fans, it still wasn’t enough. So you began to inquire about some of his hobbies

“Another way to get people to like you is to seem relatable. Do you have any hobbies?” You asked

“I bake in my spare time”

“Perfect! We can make a YouTube account and post some of your recipes there. Cooking channels are very popular, I even follow some myself.”

Your advice ends up working and Eloni begins to have his own fan club

He’s given the same love that his brothers are.

You’d think this would be the end of your job, afterall, you were hired to keep Eloni safe from angry fans, but now they all love him.

Instead, the lack of necessity for your job is strangely never brought up by Neon J and you continue business as usual.

You’ve got a crush on Eloni:

You recognize that you’ve got a crush immediately

Ever since Eloni became popular, the two of you’ve had fewer opportunities to talk to each other as he was constantly approached by fans

Having to stand by and watch Eloni be constantly flirted with made it pretty easy to realize your feelings

You decide to ignore these feelings

After all, your relationship was purely professional

Ok maybe all those times you accompanied him all over Vinyl City were just excuses to hang out, but still, your relationship was professional

And his number was saved in your personal phone and you two often texted each other

Even if your relationship was more than professional, Eloni had a lot more choices than you and you didn’t want to ruin what you had

Eloni realizes he’s got a crush:

It first started when he saw a stage technician flirting with you. Eloni got annoyed by this, but he didn’t know why.

It took a while for Eloni to realize his feelings. He at first mistook his crush as just being glad that you were his friend

Eloni also began to think about you a lot. Not just about your advice, but he also began to be reminded of you wherever he went.

It wasn’t until the middle of a baking stream that he realized that he had a crush on you

Eloni tries to flirt with you:

Attempt #1, the 1010 style:

Eloni decided to make his move.

“Hey, Y/N!” You turned around to face the green robot. “Have you thought of joining 1010? Cause you're definitely a ten out of ten.”

“That was a really good one! You should definitely use that during the concert.” You replied, unable to tell the difference between Eloni asking if his lines were good and him flirting with you. Eloni hid his disappointment, but I guess that’s what happens when you use someone as practice for your pickup lines.

Attempt #2, the sweet way:

Eloni decided to take a more “traditional” route by giving you a box of homemade chocolate. And by giving you a box of chocolate, he would place it on top of your locker and would tell you it was him when you opened it.

Eloni waited for you to show up, but you never did. He was about to search for you when he was suddenly stopped by Neon J.

“Troop, this is Emiro.” Neon J gestures to the robot next to him, “He’ll be your bodyguard for tonight.”

“What happened to Y/N?”

“Y/n had an allergic reaction to something they had been eating. Thankfully, they had an epipen on them, but they're taking the rest of the day off.” With that, Neon J left Eloni with the realization that you were probably allergic to the chocolate he made. He was definitely not telling you that he made it.

Attempt #3, third times the charm:

This time, the rest of 1010 decided to devise a plan to help their brother.

They knew Eloni would probably never confess outrightly and while his feelings for you were obvious to Neon J and them, it would take a bit more effort for you to notice.

NSR was hosting a party on the anniversary of the company's creation. And with parties came a lot of security.

You and several other members were assigned to go undercover as party guests and report anything suspicious

This meant that instead of your usual attire, you wore a dress/suit

You still had your watch(the Eloni signal) with you as it also doubled as a radio that you could use to notify staff of suspicious activity

You had been casually chatting with other NSR staff when your watch had started to beep rapidly

Eloni was in trouble

You immediately rushed off to find him, it had been months since he last needed to signal you so it must’ve been bad

You turned around the corner to where Eloni was, only to be met with Haym.

“Haym?”

“Oh hey Y/N! How's it going?”

“Hello, Haym. I’m sorry, but I can’t really talk right now. I’m looking for Eloni, but my watch says he’s right here.”

“Don’t worry, I know where he is!” Haym proceeded to push you into a nearby room. You try to open the door only to find that it was locked. You tried to call someone on your watch, but it was gone. Haym must’ve taken when he pushed you.

“Haym, what the hell is going on! Let me out!” You said while banging on the door. He was kinda your boss, but you had a much more casual relationship with the other members of 1010.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind you. You turned around only to find Eloni. You could tell because of the green eyes and cheeks, which dimly lit the darkroom.

“Eloni? Is that you?” You couldn’t really tell due to how dark it was.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good. Do you happen to know why Haym locked us into this room?”

“Well, my brothers thought it would be funny if….” Eloni hesitated.

“Please tell me this isn’t some messed up version of seven minutes in heaven.”

“What, nonono!” Eloni’s fans began to whir loudly

“Right, sorry. Not like I’d have a chance anyway,” you mumbled that last part

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Well it’s just you're a famous idol and you’ve got a lot of fans, you know?

“Who cares if I’m famous! That doesn’t make you any less incredible than you are. You’ve made me so happy and you helped me become popular! You were my first fan and I would love to go on a date with you! Eloni froze after realizing what he said.

“Wait, you like me?”

“Yeah”, Eloni blushed, I have for a while. I understand if you want to forget that this happened. I’m really sorry and I-“

You cut Eloni off with a kiss.

“Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”

----------------------------------------------------

“I’m going to the roof to stargaze. Would you like to join me?” Eloni asked. You had managed to unlock the door, and by unlock, you kicked the door open.

“Well I’m supposed to be out on the lookout for suspicious people,” Eloni’s face began to slightly falter. “But, my main objective is to keep you safe, so It’s best if I go with you. After all, you know how crazy fans can get.” With that, the two of you headed towards the roof.

“Well, that was really cheesy,” Zimelu said, peering his head behind a corner, before getting smacked by Rin.

#nsr #no straight roads #nsr x reader #eloni x reader #1010 #nsr 1010

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jmnjmnjmn · 4 years ago

Text

Celebrity Crush| part 1 | BTS x Reader mini series

Pairing: BTS x Celebrity!Reader

Key words: celebrity crush, singer, idol.

Word count: around 8,000

Masterlist

Okay, this one is just regular fluff, but it definitely has potential to become more juicy, maybe even angsty... I had many ideas when I was writing it, but decided upon cutting it where I did. Maybe there will be part two to this story, maybe not. If there will be it will also probably be able to functionas a totaly separate one shot. Also I couldn’t decide on a ship here! Initially it was supposed to be RM, but I kept coming back to JK (my bias xd). That’s where possibility of an angst story lays... Anyway tell me what you think of this piece!

“AH!” Namjoon exclaimed, dropping his spoon down into his soup.

“Hey, watch it! You’re spilling everything!” Seokjin yelled back at him as some of his friend's soup splashed out from his bowl.

“What happened?” Hoseok asked, sipping his soup slowly and looking at Namjoon with curiosity.

“It’s-It’s (Y/N).” He stuttered out, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. He was scrolling through Twitter when he noticed a tweet from his favourite female artist, (Y/N), announcing her world wide tour.

“What? Did she message you?” Seokjin asked him with a chuckle, knowing well that wouldn’t happen.

“I wish.” Namjoon scoffed and clicked on a link to an article some music site posted immediately after reading (Y/N)’s tweet. “(Y/N) has announced details of her long-awaited world tour.” He read out loud to his friends already feeling his heartbeat pick up. “The singer has continuously updated her fans on the details, promising them that she was working on the announcement. Now, via a short video on Instagram simply captioned ‘Hello world’, she has finally revealed when and where the No Limitations tour will be starting off. You can see the full dates, which she simultaneously posted on her Twitter account, below.” He quickly scrolled down to take a look at the dates and locations. His jaw dropped as he scanned down the list and noticed the Asia leg of the tour. “Soul is on the list.” He muttered. “In January. Seoul is on the list.” He repeated looking at his friends with wide eyes.

“Finally!” Hoseok exclaimed reaching across the table to pat him on the shoulder. “You can go see her then.”

“It hasn’t been announced when tickets will go on sale.” Namjoon said in panic as he frantically searched the internet for information about the tour.

“I’m sure our staff can get you in there without a ticket.” Seokjin said casually, but Namjoon took the matter very seriously. (Y/N) wasn’t just someone who’s music he liked. He also had a huge crush on her as a girl in general and he wasn’t about to pass on an opportunity to see her perform live.

“I have to talk to our PD about that.” He said in an excited tone and clicked his Messages app to draft up a passionate yet professional text saying how much he wants, no, needs to go to (Y/N)’s Seoul concert.

“Now?” Seokjin asked, taken aback a little by his fast pace.

“No time to waste. It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about.” Namjoon chuckled. “If all goes well maybe we could work on some music together.”

“Yeah and maybe something more.” Hoseok teased him, earning a loud laugh from Seokjin. Namjoon only smiled up at them from his phone, because among those who followed the news about BTS it was a well known fact that he had a thing for (Y/N).

Whenever they would get asked about their celebrity crushes in interviews he would say (Y/N)’s name. Ideal girl - someone like (Y/N). A song they could listen to on loop - (Y/N)’s latest single. Fashion inspiration at the moment - (Y/N). Favourite movie - that one (Y/N) had a cameo in for like three minutes. It would happen so much that ARMY’s started making compilations of him talking about her on YouTube called “Namjoon drooling over (Y/N) for 7 minutes straight” and so on. At first he was embarrassed about it, but after some time that awkward feeling turned into hope that maybe she’ll see it and fall for him as well. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he still liked to imagine the moment you would message him saying you would love to collab on a song.

“I’m going to go talk to our PD.” Namjoon said, as he took off the bright pink sunglasses with Happy New Year written on top of them in a silly font. He wore them for the small photoshoot they just had for BTS’s New Year’s Eve post on Twitter.

“Now?” Jimin asked him, raising his brows. He was still wearing his party hat he put on for the session. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“I know. I just-” He was interrupted by Taehyung’s loud cheer. “I’ll be right back.” Jimin just shook his head at his eagerness to find out whether (Y/N)’s staff has already answered BigHit’s request for letting Namjoon go to your show with a backstage pass as a celebrity guest of sorts.

Since they were already at the BigHit headquarters for the photoshoot and a little celebration for the beginning of the new year Namjoon had to walk just a couple of doors down to get to PD’s office. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. After hearing a faint invitation he pressed on the handle and opened it.

“Oh, it’s you. Why aren’t you with the others celebrating?” The PD asked, obviously surprised to see Namjoon.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be joining them in a minute.” He said, remembering Jimin’s words. “I just came here to ask about the No Limitations show. It’s in January and since it’s already first of the month I wondered-”

“Ah, of course.” PD cut him off with a smile. “You're going.”

“Really?” Namjoon asked in shock.

“Yes, all of you are.” Namjoon must have looked very confused for a moment there, because PD rushed with an explanation. “We got an answer saying they were going to issue a formal invitation to the concert and an after party to the whole band anyway. Go and pass on the news to the rest of the boys. We’ll have a proper meeting about this next week.” Namjoon thanked him accesively and assured he’ll let the rest of the members know about the situation. As he walked down the hall he heard their voices from the dance studio they had the photo shoot in. He was speechless.

“It’s happening.” He thought, leaning on the wall to catch a breath before coming inside. After a moment he pushed the door open and joined his group members with a bright smile.

“Guys, guys. Listen” He called. “We’re going to (Y/N)’s concert!” He exclaimed and they cheered, gathering around him, smothering him with hugs and tugging on his cheeks teasingly.

“Look at him.” Jimin chuckled pointing at Namjoon who was pacing around the room. “So excited for the concert.”

“Of course he is. He’s going to meet his crush.” Seokjin added, also laughing.

The whole group was teasing him about (Y/N) all throughout January. It was seventeenth today, the day of her Seoul show and he couldn’t wait. They already got their hair and makeup done. They were dressed to the nines. All that was left was to get to the show.

“The car is here.” Someone from the staff announced and all the boys got up from their spots. As they walked down the hall together they all took turns patting Namjoon on the shoulder for encouragement.

“Do you think we’ll have a chance to talk to her?” Jungkook asked with excitement when they were all in the car together.

“Of course!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“No, but like, for real talk. Not just: nice to meet you, let’s take a picture, goodbye.” The youngest explained quickly.

“Hopefully.” Seokjin said, patting Namjoon on the thigh as that was something he was worried about. He would definitely be happy if he got even only a second with (Y/N), but he wished for more.

After a short drive the car stopped in an underground parking lot under the venue of the concert. As they got outside they could hear the cheers of the crowds gathered outside. Their staff took them on an elevator explaining once again how the night will go. First a before party with other guests, then the concert itself and after that the after party at a hotel. Namjoon repeated the sequence of these events in his head a million times already. Technically he was prepared, but practically he was a mess. His hands were sweating and his heart was racing like crazy. He looked around the small elevator at his closest friends and the familiar faces of BigHit staff who were accompanying them. Realising he has so many people around him for support eased his nerves a little.

“I can’t believe we’re in the same building.” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, she was also in the same building as us at the VMA’s and AMA’s and so on.” Yoongi teased him and everyone chuckled.

“That’s true, Namjoon.” Taehyung agreed with a grin. “You shouldn’t be so worried.”

“Easy for you to say.” Namjoon added right as the elevator door opened.

“Yeah, she already saw us perform at one of the award shows. She knows who we are. It’s going to be fine.” Jimin said in a nervous tone. Namjoon just nodded to himself trying to make the anxious thoughts go away as they approached the area where the before party was held.

They were all excited to see (Y/N)’s show and attend her after party, but with the tremendous enthusiasm also came the stress of meeting an A list celebrity from overseas.

“I can’t believe she’s still not here.” Namjoon whined to Taehyung and Jimin as the rest of the group scattered to chat with other invited idols and celebrities. “All the dancers and her band are here already.”

“It’s still early.” Taehyung tried to cheer him up. “She’ll show up any moment. I’m sure.”

“Definitely.” Jimin agreed with him energetically.

Before Namjoon could voice another concerned thought lingering in his brain everyone in the room started cheering and clapping. He looked around wondering what caused this reaction as he noticed the obvious reason.

“Thank you all so much for coming.” (Y/N) said stopping somewhere in the middle of the gathered crowd of celebrities and staff. “It means a lot. Really.” She put her hand to her chest as she spoke. “If all goes well the show will be starting in a couple of minutes. Wish me luck and have fun.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked as (Y/N) was rushed away by her staff to the stage entry. “I thought she was going to chat with everyone or something.”

“Do you chat with guests before the show?” Jimin asked. “That’s what the after party is for.” He explained and Namjoon hummed in agreement. Just the quick glimpse he caught of her was enough to leave him speechless.

“Let’s go watch the show.” Hoseok said approaching the three from behind with the rest of the group following close behind.

There was a big screen in the backstage lounge and a couple of smaller TV’s located at the stage entries for those that wanted to glance at the stage during the show to see the real deal. They watched the first half of the show in the lounge and later relocated to the left entry area. Namjoon’s eyes were glued to the screen as everyone around him chatted away. He tried to pay attention to the conversation and partake from time to time, but his focus quickly went back to (Y/N). She looked stunning singing and dancing on stage.

Suddenly a group of staff dressed in all black rushed into the area they were hanging out in with some other guests.

“Wardrobe change, left.” One of the staff said as she clicked on her earpiece.

Namjoon almost jumped out of his seat when he saw (Y/N) jogging down from the stage and into the swarm of her people from her team.

“Woah, that gave me chills.” Yoongi commented as (Y/N) passed by them surrounded by her wardrobe, hair and makeup team.

“Say something.” Hoseok whispered, elbowing Namjoon’s side.

“Like what?” He asked following (Y/N) with his gaze as she disappeared behind her dressing room's door.

“Great show, looking good. Anything really.” He encouraged him with a cheeky smile.

“No.” Namjoon shook his head, already feeling the blood rushing to his head.

“Do it. Do it.” The rest of the members repeated after Hoseok, but he only shook his head once again.

“She’ll come out any second.” Seokjin added in a warning tone.

He was right. The dance number performed by her backup dancers was getting to an end and (Y/N) should be running out onto the stage soon to sing the next song.

“Great show!” Jungkook yelled out in English.

All the boys’s heads snapped in his direction and then onto (Y/N). She was walking out of her dressing room in long strides. As Jungkook yelled out his praise she turned to look his way without stopping,

“Thank you!” She answered quickly before being escorted by her staff into the understage corridors.

All the boys started shoving and pushing the youngest member teasingly.

“Namjoon was supposed to say that. You took over his part. Jungkook, you’re so eager.” They yelled with laughter.

“What time is it?” Taehyung asked the group as most of the guests gathered in the backstage lounge to watch the encore of the show.

“It’s close to eleven.” Seokjin answered, looking at his phone.

“Before we finish off the show with this last song I just wanted to take a minute to say: Thank you so much.” (Y/N)’s voice echoed from the stage and through the speakers in the lounge. She was standing in the bright lights holding the mic to her lips. “Thank you for choosing to come see the show and spending the night here with us. I really can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for all of you, here in the audience and back at home watching and streaming my music and the shows. Thank you so much.”

“Ah, she’s so nice. Never forgetting about her fans.” People around muttered.

“I really, truly appreciate you guys. I cannot imagine how this year would’ve gone if I hadn't spent it with all of you, all of the people on the stage and behind it. We’ve been away from our homes for so long.” (Y/N) voice got higher with nerves and sadness that came over her as she spoke about her home. “We’re coming close to ten months on the road now. That’s a long time.” She said, bringing her hand to her chest to show her gratitude. “Thank you so much for putting up with me.” She chuckled and the staff cheered. “I feel so lucky and so fortunate to be working with all of you and to be able to perform in front of all of you.” She sighed deeply, undoubtedly masking a cry. “So thank you. I love you so much. Thank you.”

The audience was shouting and applauding loudly as (Y/N) walked off the stage waving to them. As soon as she was out of the view she handed her microphone to one of the sound people and took a big gulp of water from the bottle one of the staff handed her.

“Thank you.” She breathed out. “I need to get out of this hair as soon as possible.” She chuckled tiredly as she walked into her dressing room.

“We’ve got about twenty minutes to get you ready for the after party.” Her assistant, who was waiting inside, spoke calmly as the beauty and wardrobe team gathered around (Y/N) quickly taking out the bobby pins from her hair and undoing the back of her dress. “There’s quite a lot of guests your manager would like you to talk to, at least for a minute.” She said and quickly moved on to listing all the most important people attending the party.

“Have any of those people been informed that I might want to reach out to work with them later?” (Y/N) asked, getting into her oversized sweatshirt dress with the help of some staff so that she doesn’t ruin her makeup.

“No, that’ll be done after tonight. Sometime this week though.” She explained scrolling through something on her tablet.

“What time is the flight to Osaka tomorrow?” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired as she thought of getting on another plane.

“Actually, there’s been a change of plans.” Her assistant said casually. “You got surprise booked for a daytime show tomorrow, so we’re staying in Seoul for that for the whole day and flying to Japan the next morning. The crew will be already there setting everything up for Saturday.”

“Two days in Seoul?” (Y/N) was surprised.

“Mhm.”

“What’s the show?”

“King of Masked Singer. You’re going to be the surprise opening act. I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.” She said smiling at herself in the mirror as the hairstylist was fixing up her hair.

“Heels or sneakers?” One of the wardrobe girls asked.

“Heels.” (Y/N) answered without hesitation. She wanted to look her best when surrounded with so many new faces at the after party and pairing sneakers with an oversized sweatshirt didn’t seem like the greatest combination for that.

“Ready.” The head stylist stated as one of the staff helped (Y/N) get into her thigh high booties.

From there, accompanied by security, (Y/N) and her assistant walked to the elevator that took them to the parking lot located under the venue.

As (Y/N)’s car pulled up in front of the hotel a swarm of fans and paparazzi started yelling out her name and waving to get her attention. She stopped to get her pictures taken, walked up to a couple of fans to sign their albums or pictures and walked inside to get to the after party. With her assistant following her every step and the three body guards right behind them she took yet another elevator to the hotel bar rented for the occasion.

“Let’s do this.” (Y/N) whispered to herself as she pushed the bar door open.

When she walked deeper into the crowded room random hands touched her shoulders and unknown voices spoke words of praise directed her way. She smiled and thanked the faceless mass making her way towards the DJ’s stand.

“That’s her.” Hoseok whispered as (Y/N) passed by the group of boys.

“Woah. She’s dressed cool.” Taehyung gasped, eying down her figure.

When she stepped onto the slightly elevated stage the DJ stopped the music and handed her a microphone. A wave of cheers erupted from the gathered guests as everyone noticed the star of the night had arrived.

“Hi.” (Y/N) spoke sweetly into the microphone and let the crowd yell or whistle back at her for a moment. “It’s so nice to see all of you here.” She chuckled. “Eat, drink, have fun. It’s all on me tonight. Just tonight.” She joked and the crowd clapped and yelled in excitement. “I know you all came here after the concert, but it’s not all about my music tonight.” Her tone turned mysterious all of a sudden. “It’s actually a very special day for someone else as well. A very funny guy, an inspiration in the studio, a dance mastermind and a dear friend and coworker of mine.” With every endearment term she listed the cheers got wilder. “Johnny Campbell. Where you at?” She asked looking around the room.

“Here!” Someone called out in the front of the room.

“Johnny, this is for you.” (Y/N) said in a low voice and started singing a very sexy adaptation of the birthday song.

As she finished someone in the crowd whistled and Johnny joined her on stage.

“Happy birthday Johnny.” (Y/N) finished off her wishes and hugged him tightly. “Let’s party, everyone!” She exclaimed into the microphone earning a loud cheer from everyone gathered at the bar.

(Y/N) made her way to the bar, stopping to chat and take a picture with someone every couple of steps. More than twenty minutes had passed from the moment she got off stage to when she finally got to the counter and grabbed herself a glass of expensive champagne. She sipped on the bubbly liquid and chatted to members of her dance crew. Looking around the room she locked eyes with a guy she recognised from somewhere. It took her a minute to realise it was BTS’s Jimin she was looking at. She smiled to herself, remembering that his group was on her manager’s to-talk-to list. Being halfway done with her drink she decided to down it and get another one before walking up to the group of boys.

“Oh my god.” Jimin exclaimed. “(Y/N) just looked here.”

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked, feeling his panic and excitement blur into one.

“At the bar.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“She’s coming here. She’s coming here.” Jungkook said quickly as (Y/N) made her way towards them.

“Hi, guys. I’m so glad you could make it.” She said in a sweet tone. “I’m (Y/N).”

“We know.” Jungkook blurted out which would normally earn him a shove to the shoulder from the older members, but the sound of (Y/N)’s chuckle at his comment made them relax and join her with nervous laughter. “I’m Jungkook.” He added extending his hand.

“I know.” (Y/N) answered with a smile and went for a hug and kiss on the cheek instead of a simple handshake.

“You know?” He asked in shock.

“Yes, I saw you guys perform at award shows, your music is everywhere. I know BTS.” The members smiled widely as she explained and started greeting the rest of them in the same way one by one. The hugs were quick, but still sincere. “I’m so happy you found time in your busy schedule to come see my show.”

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Namjoon said, trying to sound cool and collected. He wasn’t going to mention that he practically begged their PD to get them backstage.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled and Namjoon’s knees almost went weak at the sight.

“Yes, great show.” Jungkook added and the group laughed.

“Oh, it was you.” (Y/N) also laughed realising it was Jungkook who yelled the words of praise her way halfway through the concert.

“Yes, I… Liked your dance with… By Your Side.” Jungkook said slowly making sure he picked the right words. “Great choreography.”

“Thank you.” She answered, bringing her hand to her chest as she accepted his compliment. “It’s nothing compared to your routines though. Those look hard.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. We work hard. A lot of practice.” They muttered with modesty.

“Honestly!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I was trying to learn the routine for your song with Halsey with my girls… So hard.”

“Boy With Luv?” Jimin raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but the foot choreo was killing me.” She complained jokingly.

“Hyung, ask her which member’s part she learned.” Jungkook asked Namjoon in Korean.

“He wants to know which member’s choreography you learned.” Namjoon explained.

“Yours,” (Y/N) pointed to Jungkook.

“Me?” He asked and she nodded energetically. “Hyung, say I can teach her the choreography.” He added in Korean with a wide smile, still shocked he’s talking to such a huge star. Namjoon and the rest of the boys laughed at the youngest member’s bluntness.

“He’s saying he’ll teach you.” Namjoon hurried with an explanation as (Y/N) looked confused by what they were laughing about.

“Watch out, ‘cause I’ll take you up on that offer.” She raised her brow at Jungkook cheekily who looked at Namjoon for a translation.

“She says she might take you up on that.” He translated to his friend and he laughed, feeling a blush creep up onto his face.

“I sang your song during soundcheck today.” (Y/N) stated and all the members raised their brows at her.

“Which one?” Jungkook asked.

“Sweet Night. V’s solo.” She said pointing to Taehyung. “It’s such a sweet song and you sound amazing in it.” She said, touching his shoulder.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled, bowing to her slightly.

Not in many moments Namjoon was glad that his members couldn’t speak English as well as he did, but right now he couldn’t be happier about it. They were all so excited to be talking to (Y/N) they forgot their tongues. The alcoholic beverages that they already consumed didn’t help either. They asked him for translations every other sentence, meaning (Y/N) needed him to translate for her as well, meaning he was talking to her more than any other member, meaning she looked at him more than at any other member. Despite the language barrier the conversation flowed so easily between them. He felt ecstatic.

“(Y/N).” Her assistant called her name and brought her to the side for a moment.” It’s showtime.”

By saying “showtime” she meant that it’s time for (Y/N) to perform a song or two to entertain the guests and keep the party going.

“I’ll be right there.” She answered her and walked back to the group of boys.

“V, could I borrow you for a moment?” She asked with a sweet voice.

Unsure of what she might want from him, but still excited Taehyung followed (Y/N) into the bar.

“You said you love Underneath and know the lyrics by heart.” She said, glancing at him as they walked side by side through the crowded room filled with chatter and music. Taehyung hummed in agreement, feeling his heartbeat grow faster and faster. “You know them well enough to sing it live with me now?”

“What?” He asked, almost tripping over his own feet.

“I’m supposed to perform a couple of songs now. Would you like to perform one with me?” She asked stopping and looked him in the eyes with hope.

“Of course.” Taehyung answered, giving her his signature box smile.

“Great!” She exclaimed and grabbed his hand to lead him backstage. “This way.”

“Where do you think she took him?” Seokjin asked as (Y/N) disappeared with Taehyung in the crowd.

“I have no idea.” Namjoon answered, also curious about the whole ordeal.

“She’s very nice.” Jungkook commented.

“Yeah, nicer than I imagined.” Yoongi added.

“We have to get a picture together.” Hoseok said and the rest of the boys agreed.

“Look, there’s (Y/N).” Jimin pointed towards the stage where the DJ’s booth was located.

“Welcome to the stage, the one and only, (Y/N) and Korea’s very own, V of BTS!” Announced the DJ and all the boys’s jaws dropped to the floor.

“What?!” They screamed in unison.

“Hi.” (Y/N) said in a low voice. “V and I have a very special cover for you tonight. Please enjoy, Underneath.”

The rest of the members sang along to the fast paced pop song as V and (Y/N) performed. The lyrics talked about hidden feelings and the tension that can build up if you don’t give them a way out. Even though (Y/N) and Taehyung never sang together before their voices blended perfectly in the duet. When they finished their performance the crowd applauded loudly. (Y/N) put her arm behind Taehyung and he did the same. Joined in this side hug they bowed to the audience.

After a minute or two Taehyung got back to his friends with the widest smile on his face.

“Can you believe this?” He was still in shock.

“Congratulations. You were so good. Woah.” All the boys chattered at the same time.

“I recorded you.” Seokjin added as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. They gathered around the small screen watching Taehyung and (Y/N)’s performance once again.

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked Taehyung as the video came to an end.

“Last I saw her she was talking to MAMAMOO.”

“Ah, so cool. She’s probably busy. We didn’t even take a picture together.” The group chimed. After a moment of sulking they went back to obsessing over the fact that they met (Y/N) and that one of their own members sang with her.

Surrounded by music, food and alcohol the time seemed to fly by very fast. Accompanied by their staff they left the party around two in the morning without having a chance to talk to (Y/N) one more time.

Mornings after concerts are usually pretty bad for both the audience members and the performing artists, but mornings after concerts combined with after parties, meeting new people and mingling with every music producer possible are even harder.

(Y/N) woke up with a headache and a bitter taste in her mouth. From her bed she walked straight to the bathroom to take a shower. When brushing her teeth she scrolled through her Twitter feed reviewing every other caption or photo on the endless string of posts from last night she was tagged in. She liked a couple of tweets posted by her friends and was about to lock her phone when she noticed a simple caption.

“Great show #정국” (Y/N) pressed on the picture to see it whole. She immediately recognised Jungkook, one of the members of BTS, a band she met last night. He was standing in front of the big monitor backstage with her tour logo on it, making hearts with his fingers and smiling at the camera. She smiled to herself remembering how easily yesterday’s conversation flowed with the group of boys.

“Ah, I wish I had his number.” (Y/N) muttered. “I could take him up on that dance lesson offer.”

(Y/N) rushed to open her hotel room’s door to the room service. The hoteboy brought in the big breakfast she just ordered minutes ago and set it on the table. As she got ready to dig into the scrambled eggs her phone started vibrating. She looked at the called ID and quickly picked up as she saw it was her assistant calling. She gave her a quick rundown of the day’s events and informed her she’s free to rest and relax until three in the afternoon.

“That’s when they’ll pick us up for King of Masked Singer.” She finished explaining.

“I have one more question.” An interesting idea popped into (Y/N)’s head. “Is there a way you could get me the number of BTS’s Jungkook?”

(Y/N)’s phone chimed as she was finishing up her breakfast. She picked it up reading the message she just recieved.

“I got it.” As she read the message from her assistant another one appeared on the screen. This time it was a string of numbers.

“Ah, what should I say?” (Y/N) pasted the number into her contacts and waited a minute before pressing the dial button. The phone beeped a couple of times before going silent. Jungkook didn’t pick up. “Hm. Let’s try again.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Jungkook was hanging out with his friends in their shared apartment. He was typing something up on his phone when the screen lip up with an unfamiliar number.

“Hyung, do you know this number?” He showed the ringing screen to Taehyung sitting beside him on the couch.

“No. Pick up.” Jungkook just shook his head at his answer.

“I don’t pick up unknown callers.” He rejected the call and went back to what he was doing. “This person is calling again.”

“Pick up.” More preoccupied with switching through TV channels, Taehyung encouraged him tiredly. Jungkook swiped right to take the call and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” He asked in Korean.

“Ah- Hello.” Jungkook and Taehyung locked eyes in surprise and curiosity as the person on the other side spoke in English. “It’s (Y/N). From yesterday.” Taehyung almost screamed in shock. Jungkook felt all his blood rush to his head.

“Ah, sorry. Hello. Sorry.” He stumbled over his words, trying to explain why he didn’t answer her call at first ring. “I don’t pick up if I don’t know the number.” (Y/N) chuckled on the other end of the line.

“It’s fine.” Her voice was sweet and calm. “Actually, I’m calling, ‘cause I’m still in Seoul-” Taehyung stood up from the couch covering his mouth with his hands, still in deep shock. “-and I was wondering- I was thinking about what you said last night, so…” Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows, trying his hardest to remember what he said that made (Y/N) call him the next morning. “If you have time we could meet and dance together.” Taehyung gasped. “You could teach me the Boy With Luv choreo and-” Jungkook couldn’t control himself and answered her before she could even finish asking the question.

“Yes.” He blurted out. Taehyung jumped back on the couch and pushed his shoulder with a huge smile.

“Really?”

“Yes, yes.” He assured her.

“Should I come to your-” Eager to see her he cut her off again.

“You can come to our studio. I will text you the address.”

“Great. I’m free until three in the afternoon so text me the time as well.” She added.

“Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.” (Y/N) added after a moment of silence.

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“AH!” Jungkook threw his phone, which felt red hot in his hands right now, on the other side of the couch.

“What was that?!” Taehyung yelled, shaking on his shoulders. “How did she get your number?!”

“I have no idea!” Jungkook felt his body relax as he was no longer on the phone. “Oh my god. I have to text her now!” He reached to dig his phone out from under a stack of pillows and blankets on the couch. “And I have to go see her!”

“You’re doing great.” Jungkook praised (Y/N) with laughter as she jokingly overdid the moves and gestures in the choreography. “Like that.”

“Okay, but in all seriousness how did I do?” She asked, cutting the jokes short. Jungkook raised his thumbs up with a smile and she chuckled again.

“Let’s do it again and record it so we can review. You vs me.” He set his phone up on the floor by the mirrors in the studio space at BigHit.

“Teacher vs student.” Jungkook just hummed in agreement before playing the music.

Tired after practicing Boy With Luv for an hour and freestyling for almost two more (Y/N) and Jungkook sat down on the floor of the dance studio panting. She stood up to get herself some water and immediately regretted it.

“Ah, my legs.” Jungkook smiled at her words. Although (Y/N) danced in her music videos and during live performances her routines were far more relaxed that BTS’s regular dances. Their moves were sharp and strong and her’s more sexy and slow. Chucked her emptied water bottle back into her bag and turned to face Jungkook again. “Are you hungry?” He raised his brows, knowing what will come next if he says he is in fact hungry.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go eat something.” Her proposition was so blunt and free. He could not refuse her, but the excitement that filled his chest at that moment didn’t overshadow the fact that the rest of his group would be so bummed they didn’t get to eat with (Y/N) as well.

“Ah, can I do this to them?” He whined in Korean. (Y/N) gave him a confused look since she didn’t understand a word he just said. “My members will be jealous.” He explained with a slight smile.

“Oh, I didn’t think about that. Should we invite them?” That Jungkook wasn’t expecting.

“You want that?” He asked to make sure he didn’t just hear something wrong. (Y/N) smiled sincerely at his unsure expression.

“Yeah, why not?” Jungkook quickly got up from the ground and dug his phone up from his pocket.

“I’ll call them. Wait a second.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) answered as he walked out of the studio to call his friends.

Jungkook dialed Namjoon’s number, knowing he was at the apartment right now enjoying his day of rest. The line beeped a couple of times before he finally picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and sleepy in contrast with Jungkook’s, which was excited and fast paced.

“Hyung, listen. Get the rest of the guys and put me on speaker. I have something to tell all of you.”

“What is it?”

“Are they all there?”

“Wait a second.” Some shuffling and name calling was heard on the other side of the line before Namjoon spoke up again. “Okay, go.”

“So I’m with (Y/N) right now. We just got done dancing and all that and… She’s invited us all to lunch.”

“What? Oh, wow. Really? How cool.” The group erupted in chatter as they heard Jungkook’s news.

“Yeah. Can you come?”

“Of course. Yes. I can’t.” Another bundle of statements was heard.

“Who can’t?” Jungkook asked, saddened.

“Yoongi.” Seokjin said.

“I already have plans with our producers, but you all should go.” Yoongi explained, still encouraging the rest of the boys to go out.

“You sure?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, go.”

“We’ll take a picture for you.” Hoseok joked.

“What are we going to eat?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook answered, not really having thought about that yet.

“Since we know Seoul maybe we should pick the place?” Seokjin proposed thoughtfully.

“Good idea. I’ll tell her that. When will you come here?”

“Thirty minutes? We need to get dressed.” Namjoon said and murmur of agreement was heard.

“Okay, okay. Don’t overdress though, we’re both in sweatpants.” Jungkook added with a chuckle. After exchanging goodbyes he hung up and sighed deeply, letting his shoulders relax a little before going back into the studio.

When he opened the door he saw (Y/N) stretching her legs in a sitting down position. He joined her on the floor before speaking.

As Taehyung pulled into BigHit’s parking lot Jungkook and (Y/N) were already waiting outside. Both dressed in large black puffer jackets going over their knees, they stood beside one another. Jungkook was looking over (Y/N)’s shoulder pointing to something on her phone.

“Now you can add a picture.” He said, swiping his finger on her screen. (Y/N) nodded and pressed on the camera option.

“Take a selfie with me.” She asked, raising her phone up to take a picture of the two of them.

Jungkook smiled shyly and pulled his mask down half way. (Y/N) did the same before snapping a cute picture to set as her contact photo. Jungkook quickly pulled his mask back up to cover his cheeks that started to turn bright red. He glanced over her shoulder as she manipulated the photo to fit both of their faces into the small square.

“And synchronise your contacts, so I will be there.” He added as she finally accepted the placement of the picture.

“Oh, great.”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) pressed on the ‘synch contacts’ button before looking up at Jungkook.

“Thank you.” She said sweetly and pulled her mask back over her nose.

“You’re welcome.”

Taehyung noticed the two of them standing in front of the building exit and slowly pulled up. As he got closer he rolled down his window.

“Hello!” The sudden greeting made them jump up slightly.

“Hi!” (Y/N) called back sweetly.

“Come in!” Shoulder to shoulder they walked towards the car after Taehyung's invitation.

Namjoon was already sitting in the passenger's seat making it so that Jungkook and (Y/N) had to sit together in the backseat.

“How was dance practice?” Namjoon asked them.

“What was it?” (Y/N) tapped Jungkook’s arm. He whispered something to her and she clapped her hands in realisation. “Daebak.” Namjoon and Taehyung laughed at her harsh pronunciation.

“It was good. Great.” Jungkook added after the chuckles died down. “Where are the other guys?” He asked Namjoon in Korean.

“The rest of the guys will meet us at the restaurant.” He explained in English, so (Y/N) could understand. She was still doing something on her phone when he glanced at her from the front seat.

“Jungkook.” Her shy tone echoed in the car. “I synced the contacts, but you’re not here.” She showed him her phone with a concerned expression. “Look.”

“Maybe I will just add my number like normal and then it will be saved in the contacts.” (Y/N) hummed in agreement, giving him her phone.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked in Korean, eying the two in the rearview mirror. Jungkook glanced at him, thanking god that (Y/N) doesn’t speak their language.

“I made (Y/N) a Kakao account.”

“And you’re putting your number in?” Taehyung continued in a teasing tone. Jungkook smiled at (Y/N)’s screen and typed in his ID.

“It’s not like that.”

The boys picked out a traditional korean diner with private rooms and floor level tables. They ordered mountains of meat to fry and tons of side dishes, soups and rice. At first (Y/N) widened her eyes at the amount of food concerned there will be leftovers, but within thirty or forty minutes she realised that those six boys’s stomachs can intake much more food that she can.

The conversation within the group flowed swiftly and comfortably as it did the night before. There even was some talk about possible musical collaborations. No one was looking at the clock, but at two o’clock sharp (Y/N)’s phone buzzed.

“Ah, it’s my assistant.” She announced with deep sorrow in her voice. “Unfortunately I will have to get going soon, guys. I have a TV appearance this evening.”

“TV today?” Seokjin asked in English. He seemed really shocked. When he spoke again he directed his words to Namjoon and spoke in Korean. “She shouldn't have eaten so much noodles and rice. She’ll be bloated and puffy. That’s very bad.”

“He says noodles and rice is bad for TV, ‘cause you might get puffy.” Namjoon explained to (Y/N) who just waved him off and chuckled.

“Ah, I’ll be wearing a big dress and a mask anyway.”

“What show are you on?” Namjoon asked, curiously.

“Something called King of Masked Singer.” The boys started talking over each other in Korean and patting Jungkook on the shoulders. After a moment of that Namjoon translated the jist of it to (Y/N).

“Yeah, so JK also was on that show.” (Y/N), who was sitting opposite to the youngest member of the group, looked up at him with a smile.

“Really?” She asked after swallowing another sip of hot soup. “What did they put you in? What costume?”

“I was…” He wanted to tell her everything in English, but was missing the most crucial word. “Hyung, how do you say fencer?” He asked Namjoon who looked confused for a second before answering him with a shrug. Jungkook reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll show you.” He typed the right words into YouTube and passed (Y/N) his phone. As soon as she looked at the moving screen she nodded in realisation.

“Ah, fencer.”

“Fencer, yes.” Namjoon agreed. (Y/N) skimmed through the video listening to Jungkook’s clear and beautiful vocals in the cover of BIGBANG’s If You.

“Woah, this is good.” She said, looking up at him.

“Thank you.” He accepted the compliment as she passed the phone back to him.

“You know what you will have?” Hoseok asked.

“What I’ll be dressed in? Yeah, I’m singing Beauty and the Beast, so I’ll be a princess.”

“Ah, cute.” Seokjin called out with a chuckle as (Y/N)’s phone buzzed once more.

“Ah, I really have to go.” She sighed deeply as the boys whined at her early leave. “I have to get myself intact before going to the studio.” She said gesturing to her laid back outfit. Since she was meeting Jungkook earlier for dance practice she was wearing a pair of branded sneakers, high waisted sweatpants and a hoodie - an outfit most of the boys in the room thought of as very pretty, but to her it was just workout gear.

“Do you need a ride?” Jungkook asked, all of a sudden realising she drove here with them and might not have a ride back to her hotel, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, my security is already parked outside.” The boys nodded at the professional sound of that statement. She was an A list celebrity after all and couldn’t just run around town by herself.

Everyone stood up from the table as (Y/N) slipped on her shoes and jacket.

“It was so nice to see you again.” Namjoon started as (Y/N) turned towards them before going out the door of the private dining room. She smiled sincerely and swung her backpack onto her shoulder.

“I’m so glad we got to hang out.” She looked at them with a shine in her eyes before going in for a hug with each of them. “And that we got to dance.” She added stopping in front of Jungkook. He smiled and chuckled as she hugged him goodbye.

“Yes. Me too.”

The group exchanged a couple more words of goodbye before (Y/N) walked towards the sliding door. As she was about to close it behind herself she slipped her face mask down and smiled at the group once more.

“Hopefully that’s not the last I see of you.” She added and the boys erupted with negating statements and chuckles.

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years ago

Text

REDACTED verse - A special night

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Ordering a sweet treat to be delivered to the other person at home/work

Word Count: 2,136

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Gavin/Freelancer. Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: NA

Summary: Having an Incubus boyfriend comes with many perks. The Freelancer and Lovely really should have seen it coming.

ConCrit: Y

Well, I guess this can be a sequel to my previous oneshot, REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest. I really wanted to write the Freelancer and Lovely interacting after their first, proper meeting so this oneshot suddenly comes to mind!

Exam week is the bane of every student, everywhere — even for the magical ones.

An uneasy atmosphere lingers around D.A.M.N as the current semester hurl the students into an intense week of revisions, study groups, and extra classes; all for the upcoming exams.

The seniors are frantically cramming for their final papers and projects under the watchful eyes of the lecturers. The Freelancer doesn't envy them one bit when they caught a Sonal Energetic screamed into his backpack for a solid ten minutes.

His scream shakes the student lounge, and the windows shattered.

Once he got that out of his system, he focused back towards his textbook, expressionless. The rest of the students around the Energetic hardly bat an eye over what just happened.

On that day, the Freelancer learned to avoid a large group of seniors until the exam week blows over.

"The tension alone in that lounge could make a Serenity Daemon hide underneath a bed." The Freelancer narrates their experience to Lovely. The two of them are currently having their own study session over at the Freelancer's apartment.

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and yet here they are - flipping through textbooks, reviewing and swapping notes and downing cans of coffee and Red Bulls from as early as 9 AM. "Even the janitor wasn't fazed by it. He just snapped his fingers, and the windows were good as new!"

That night after their proper introduction, Lovely and the Freelancer had become quite good friends, much to Vincent's annoyance and Gavin's pleased smirk when the Freelancer told him that Lovely would be coming over for their study session.

"Aww, look you, Deviant. Arranging a little study date with that friend of yours," Gavin teased during breakfast this morning. They both woke up early to prepare meals that could last the Freelancer and Lovely throughout the whole day. When his Deviant absentmindedly replied, "Uh-huh" as they were busy chopping the vegetables, Gavin couldn't help but plant a fond kiss on top of their head. "Anyway, I'll be popping into Aria for a bit today. A few of my, ah, older brothers and sisters called for a meeting. Can I trust that you two won't be having too much fun without me?"

The Freelancer stopped chopping to gave their boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Gavin, we'll be studying." They explained. "Our first paper is literally next week. So I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there won't be any fucking happening." They then stop themselves. They suddenly recalled something. "I don't want to be on that Solaire Prince's hit list too."

Gavin just cooed at their disgruntled partner, as if the genuine possibility that the both of them being shred to pieces by Lovely's possessive boyfriend amused him.

Nonetheless, Gavin pulled his weight to ensure there was enough food and comfortable pillows and blankets in their shared apartment so that his Deviant and the Electro Energetic would be comfortable for their revisions.

An hour before Lovely arrived, Gavin kissed the Freelancer goodbye and Rifted into his home dimension.

And now we're back in the present.

"I think those students around that guy were his classmates," Lovely commented. They take a quick sip of the lemonade that Gavin prepared to refresh their parched throat. Even in a simple pair of slacks, baggy t-shit, and hair pulled up in a bun, they still look as breathtaking as ever. "They reacted as if it was like a regular Tuesday for them. It's so crazy to think that we'll be seniors like them soon."

The Freelancer pours more lemonade into their glass from the pitcher beside them. Their books, notebooks and snacks are spread all over the dining table. A large and fluffy pillow is propped behind the Freelancer so they can lean back on their chair comfortably. "Urgh, mood. I can already imagine the coursework we'll be forced to do in our final semester." They groan. Their brain is fried from all the information and notes they've been reviewing since this morning. On top of that, the thought that they will be getting even more work once they hit their senior year is starting to freak them out.

Seeing the Freelancer is having an internal crisis, Lovely quickly glance at the time on their phone and decides, "OK, I think we seriously need a break. You look like you're going to pull a stunt similar to that Sonal Energetic, and I don't think your boyfriend appreciates coming back to a half-destroyed apartment."

"Gavin can fix the apartment with his magic, don't worry." The Freelancer is quick to assure Lovely. "He did that after he and Vega trashed the place anyway."

"Uh, what? Who's Vega?"

The Freelancer snapped their attention back to Lovely once they realised the name that they accidentally dropped. "N-Nothing! I didn't s-say anything!" They laugh awkwardly, doing their best to brush off Lovely's concerned expression. "Anyway, break! Yeah! That's a good idea! Are you hungry? We can watch something on Youtube and eat in the living room. You're OK with that?"

Lovely gingerly nods; it's best not to comment or ask about this Vega person since the name alone made their friend jumpy. They push their chair back, stretch their stiff spine, and get up to help set the plates and cutleries while the Freelancer heats the lunch they made in the morning.

They then move to the living room with a tray of food and drinks, where the couch and coffee table are surrounded by pillows and blankets thrown around messily.

"You play video games, right?" The Freelancer asked after Lovely settle down on the couch with a blanket over their lap. "Do you want to watch a playthrough or something?"

"Sure! Do you and Gavin play video games too?"

"Gavin does, though he usually only plays those dating sim games for girls. It's a guilty pleasure of his."

"Oh, Otome Games? My respect for your boyfriend just levelled up. Has he ever played Hatoful Boyfriend?"

"Uh... I don't remember he ever mentioned that title. What is it about?"

"We're watching a playthrough of that game. Right now. You can watch it with me, but you can't tell Gavin anything, OK? I promise you're going to love his reactions."

Lovely's eyes light up with glee and grin widely as the Freelancer switch on the Smart TV. When thumbnails of pigeons with pink hearts in the background pop up on the screen, they immediately throw an incredulous look at the Energetic.

"That top playlist is good to watch. Come on, sit beside me." Lovely pats on the empty spot on the couch beside them, unperturbed at the look the Freelancer is giving them. "I think you're going to like Okosan."

The Freelancer press play on the first video and kick back on the couch with the Energetic. What's better than having a break after a long study session? Hanging out with a friend with some good food while watching a crazy romance video game about pigeons!

However, when the fourth video starts to play, the doorbell rings.

"Uh... are you expecting someone?" Lovely asks curiously; their head is tilting towards the door. Their plate of eggplant pasta and buttered abalones are polished on their lap. The Freelancer internally preened when they enthusiastically complimented on theirs and Gavin's cooking skills.

Anyway, the Freelancer moves their empty tray onto the coffee table and flip over the blanket to get up. "Not really. Gavin said he'll be coming back home at night." They explain and went towards the door when the doorbell ring once more.

A delivery man greets the Freelancer with a stoic face, an armful of flower bouquet, and a thick, rectangular item wrapped in hot red packaging.

"I, uh, think you got the wrong address?" They said, confused to hell and back.

The delivery man blinks, unfaze at the Freelancer's greeting. "Good afternoon. Delivery for..." He pauses to read the card attached to the bouquet. "Deviant? We received a request from Gavin to arrange a flower bouquet and some... special chocolates. He also left a message for you: My Deviant has been working so hard lately~ So I got you something to... help you relax. PS: give some of the special chocolates to that gorgeous friend of yours and their boyfriend."

The Freelancer could only gape when the delivery man finished reciting Gavin's message. From the living room, Lovely is also doing an excellent mimicking of a goldfish. Their stunned expression made the man sigh tiredly. "Look, I'm not going to judge your... bedroom activities. Just take the packages already. I still have more stops to deliver."

"O-Oh my god! I'm really, really sorry about my boyfriend!" The Freelancer finally snaps out of it and stammers an apology. Their face is bright red. They hurriedly accept the flowers and package, shoot a quick thank you and slams the door shut.

Lovely watches as the Freelancer stares into the bouquet with a mixed feeling, something between fondness and extreme embarrassment, before they scream into the large sunflowers.

They patiently wait for the Freelancer to get it out of their system before Lovely delicately asks, "So, uh, does Gavin do these sort of things often?"

"No. This is the first time ever." The Freelancer replies. Their voice is muffled because the flowers are still pressed onto their face. "That's what I get for dating an Incubus, I supposed..."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, dude! I think it's super sweet how much Gavin loves you. Flowers and chocolates? Boy got some serious game; might even give Vincent a run for his money, and you should've seen how we first met."

The Freelancer peeks through the petals and is relieved to find that Lovely wasn't put off by Gavin's forward nature. In fact, they are very accepting of the Freelancer and Gavin's relationship.

Feeling the warmth on their cheeks slowly disappearing, the Freelancer made their way back to the couch. The rectangular package is tossed onto the couch, and the bouquet is on the coffee table. The Freelancer figured they could put the fresh flowers in a water-filled vase later.

"The guy said that Gavin sent you some chocolates?" Lovely reiterate as the Freelancer began to untie the ribbon and unwraps the box.

"Special chocolates, and knowing Gavin, I kinda have an idea of what kind of chocolates they are." They admit and make quick work of tearing the paper wrappings.

Apparently, Gavin ordered two types of chocolates for his Deviant. One box holds a fancy gourmet assortment of salted almonds dipped in rich Belgium chocolate, double chocolate raspberry truffles, vanilla pieces powdered with light matcha and some white praliné hearts.

Lovely whistle, impressed over the spread. "Your boyfriend really went all out for you!"

The box below it contains rows of heart-shaped chocolates, but the short message written on the card of said box proves it's anything but ordinary treats.

'These are homemade chocolates made by one of my close associates. She's a Succubus, by the way, and renowned for her aphrodisiac desserts. You can try some first if your Energetic friend doesn't mind being a voyeur.'

The Freelancer promptly throws away the card and cues them, and Lovely shrieking in embarrassment. Neither of them expects the second batch of chocolates.

"These are sexy chocolates? Like, legit aphrodisiac chocolates made with magic!? Oh my god, I didn't know they were a thing!"

"I didn't either! I was expecting sex toys below the chocolates!"

"Wait - didn't Gavin wants to give these to Vincent and me!? Dude, does he has a thing for Vincent? Because at this point, I should tell you: he noticed that Gavin was purposely riling us up when they first met, and he's been thinking that your boyfriend is out to get him. But, uh, not in the sexy way, but I'm thinking otherwise now. And if that's the case, then you can warn that Incubus to be ready and catch these hands."

The Freelancer groans and hides their face in their hands. "OK, you know what? I'm going to put the special chocolates in the fridge, and then we'll continue watching a few more videos from the playthrough and get back to studying."

"... You're in denial."

"I'm just trying to keep whatever sanity I have left. It's been a crazy year."

"Urgh, tell me about it."

That night, at Lovely's and Vincent's apartment:

"Vincent, baby? I'm back. Look what I got!"

"Welcome home, Lovely. Dinner's ready if you're hungry. Hmm? What's that?"

"It's homemade aphrodisiac chocolates made by a Succubus. Gavin and the Freelancer gave some to us."

"...I'm gonna punch that Incubus in his smug ass face."

"...Does that mean you don't want them in the bedroom tonight?"

"OK, I'll punch him tomorrow. C'mere, Lovely. I've missed you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #freelancer (listener)#lovely (listener)#gavin #vincent solaire

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

Text

Flower | 40 | End

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 6.9k

; Warnings: Slight anxiety attack, mentions of panic, slight body issues

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: So...this is it 😢 Flower is officially over! I started writing this on November 15th, 2019. Almost a year later, here we are with 40 chapters, 3 drabbles and 180k of words. Can you believe I actually finished it? I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it and the journey of the MC finding herself and falling in love with Hoseok. It’s been so fun to write and it’s sad to let it go. If you’ve enjoyed reading this, please let me know with a comment or an ask! I’ve loved reading how much you’ve all felt seen or embraced by the MC with her struggles and I’d love to hear your thoughts on not only this chapter but the whole fic! Feedback is what keeps authors going and I came very close to leaving writing once Flower was finished but I’m still going to carry on. I’m not sure if this chapter is good or not, but I hope you enjoy it anyway and think it a fitting end to the story!

; Flower Masterpost

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...walk down the aisle. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well, Hoseok could not be there or I could have a heart attack and drop down dead. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of my issues, I wouldn’t have to worry about everyone watching me. On the other hand...I’m going to marry the love of my life. As long as he turns up” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers in the room, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself.

It was a good job, as it meant that no one else in the room could hear your panicked thoughts that were being verbalised. Hoseok and you had decided to get married at an exquisite mansion hotel with the ceremony itself being in the elegant gardens outside. There was a full-sized maze alongside a stunning fountain, the centrepiece being a marble depiction of Aphrodite rising from the shallows.

You’d taken a walk around the perfectly groomed gardens the night before, taking in all the decorations that you’d painstakingly picked out over the months that had been artfully arranged by the staff. The flowers in the gardens were beautiful, a smorgasbord of pinks, oranges, violets, reds and yellows that brought the whole area to life. Alongside it looking visually perfect, it also smelled amazing as well with the soft scent of different flowers mixing.

At night, the tiny fairy lights that had been strung up around the building front and the metal trellises that were organised in the garden gave off a soft, golden glow. It made the whole place look ethereal and you were excited for everyone else to get to see it during the reception tonight.

The actual wedding ceremony was scheduled to start at two in the afternoon, with only friends and family invited for that. It would be outside as well, with Hoseok and you standing at the end of a make-shift aisle on the lawn section of the hotel’s garden. Temporary chairs had been arranged on both sides for your guests, dark wood with ivory silk draped over everyone. At the end of the aisle, each chair had a silk bow in ivory and deep purple alongside a bouquet of specially arranged flowers.

It all looked perfect and you’d marvelled at it yesterday, amazed that they’d managed to bring your vision to life. Now all you had to do was walk down it and get married, which was where you were a little panicked.

The room that had been assigned to the bridal party was on the lower floor of the hotel, reducing the risk of you potentially killing yourself by tripping over your dress while walking down the stairs. It was technically two hotel rooms connected through a shared bathroom, which you found bizarre.

Your mom and Hoseok’s mom had taken the other room for their use to get changed, the hairdresser and makeup artist they’d hired working there to make them look their best for the ceremony. Even now, you could hear them chattering and laughing away with each other. Even through your anxiety, you can’t help but smile as you hear them get on so well.

Any fears you’d had about them not liking each other had quickly disappeared. Instead, they’d become good friends and liked to meet up now and then to have a talk over coffee or something. It pleased you to see your mom getting to have more friends.

Eden and Amelia had also chosen to get ready in that room, not wanting to crowd the one you were in too much. It was already full of dresses and a ridiculous amount of makeup and hair product with only four of you so you couldn’t even imagine the chaos with five of you.

In your room was Soyeon, Chungha and Dahyun alongside you. Dahyun was currently three months pregnant, having successfully been inseminated with Jungkook’s sperm. He’d agreed to their request and after a few months of getting prepared for the attempts, Dahyun had undergone the procedure. What it had been exactly, you didn’t know because you hadn’t felt it was your business to pry into something like that.

It was a privilege to even know they were trying before anyone else. Their announcement had come at your bachelorette party when Dahyun had refused alcohol, immediately leading Soyeon and you to be suspicious. You’d never seen Chungha’s beloved ever turn down a drink so it had been a clear sign of something at least.

Needless to say, your party had happily become a celebration of their impending baby. Thankfully, you weren’t one of those people who got overly annoyed at others announcing things at events. Or at least, not big events. Your bachelorette party had been a perfect time to find out, whereas you might not have been so amenable if they’d told everyone today instead.

That was normal though, right? Today was your day. Yours and Hoseok’s. People who felt the need to co-opt special days like that were a special type of self-absorbed in your opinion.

Given it was so early into her pregnancy, Dahyun isn't showing that much. Which meant her bridesmaid dress hadn’t needed to be altered too much. None of them has gotten into their dresses just yet, instead currently in the process of getting their face and hair done. Chungha’s hair has already been done, elegantly styled into a beautiful updo with a few tendrils curled around her face.

The makeup for the girls was a smokey eye with subtle blush and contour, alongside a neutral lip. It wasn’t anything flashy, but you’d loved the concept of it all. Particularly with the small and delicate crystals that dotted along their waterline, adding a little sparkle to match the tiny crystals on their deep violet dresses.

As a present to each of them, you’d bought them a gift set from Pandora. In each one was a pair of dainty stud earrings with a heart design alongside a matching heart-shaped pendant necklace. All the hearts were encrusted with brilliant-cut stones, making the perfect gift that could be used again in the future for casual use.

They’d all been in awe of it and surprised at being given presents as well. You hadn’t even known it was a thing until you’d looked up wedding preparation online, discovering that you should also buy something for Hoseok. Which had led to you buying him the fancy watch he’d been drooling over for months now. It had been eye-watering expensive, but it had been worth it for his excited text this morning.

Along with the watch, you’d also written him a letter. It was meant to be light-hearted and fun, but you’d ended up writing way too much as you’d poured out your love to him alongside everything you felt for him. To your eternal embarrassment, you’d ended up crying while writing it as you’d told him everything you’d never been able to vocalise, including writing possibly a million times that you love him.

He’d been instructed to not read that until just before the ceremony.

His present to you was a gaming table, which might not seem to be very sentimental to anyone else but you’d been ecstatic over it. For years now, you’d been saying that you wanted to buy a proper table that was designed for board games and that could then be used as a normal table when converted. They were super expensive so you’d resigned yourself to never getting one, but he’d printed out the receipt of what he’d ordered and put it into an envelope for you to open tonight.

Neither of you had ever been a traditional couple, and that certainly wasn’t about to change with marriage.

“Hey, you okay?” Amelia asks, interrupting your intense thought process as she sits down next to you. As usual, her aura is warm and reassuring as she reaches over to gently squeeze at your hand. You don’t spend a huge amount of time around her, but you knew both Eden and her enough to want them in your bridal party.

“Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just…” Trailing off, you struggle to find the right words and instead gesture towards the air. It makes no sense but you can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to say. Mainly because you can’t figure out what your mind is thinking.

“It’s okay to be worried, don’t feel like you shouldn’t be. If you’re anxious or nervous then that’s okay as well. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should be feeling, just feel what you are. Trust Hoseok, trust yourself and all your family and friends. We’re all here for you and we want you to have the best day possible. Tell us if anything is wrong, okay? I have no doubt that Chungha and Soyeon would strong-arm everyone into whatever was necessary to make you feel comfortable.” She says, smirking as she nods over to the two women who are chattering away in their respective chairs.

“I know, I know. I’m trying. It’s just...god, everyone is going to be staring at me and I hate being the centre of attention,” Looking down at your hands, you chew at your lips. “What if I mess up the vows? Or I freeze or drop the ring?”

“Hey, it’s normal to feel that. I doubt there’s anyone who’s gotten married who wasn’t at least a little bit anxious about messing something up. Yes, everyone is here to watch you, but they’re for Hoseok too. I’m sure he’s just as worried that he might make a mistake, and if you do then, so what? It’s not going to ruin anything, it just means your human. If anything, people will probably find it endearing. The only person you should concern yourself with is Hoseok, and I doubt there’s anything you could do today to ruin the day for him. Unless you don’t go.” Amelia laughs when you give a shocked gasp, jaw-dropping open and eyes wide.

“I would never do that! But what if he decides he doesn’t want to get married anymore?” Now the worry that had wiggled itself deep inside your mind comes to the fore and you find yourself almost whispering the words. It feels like a betrayal to Hoseok for even thinking he’d do that, but you can’t help the fear.

You must not have been quite enough though as Chungha speaks up, facing you in her chair with a stern expression on her face as she wags her finger. “Lady, do not think that. I don’t want that thought to even enter your head. As if Jung Hoseok is ever going to back out now. I think that man would’ve eloped with you if you’d asked instead. He’s going to be standing at the end of that aisle, probably bawling like a baby.”

“Maybe not that far.” This is from Eden, who’s laid out on the bed in the centre of the room, playing Zelda on her Switch. She’d had her makeup done earlier and is now waiting for the hairdresser to be free while Amelia is waiting for her makeup. All of you had decided that you’d be last to get ready to make sure that everything looked as fresh as possible.

“Want to bet? That man is gonna be sobbing.” This starts up a whole ten-minute discussion about whether or not Hoseok was going to cry at seeing you. Namjoon hadn’t cried but Jimin had during their weddings, surprising no one. But Namjoon had cried at the birth of his daughter.

You weren’t sure, to be honest. Hoseok didn’t cry all that often and you could probably count on one hand how many times you’d seen it over four years. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to see him crying. It made your chest hurt when he did and you always ended up crying too.

Something about seeing strong and proud men cry was just heartbreaking to you.

For a while, you just sit back and let the conversation wash over you as they all debate and borderline argue, intensely amongst themselves. They’d all switched around now and they’ll soon start getting into their bridesmaid’s dresses, which meant you’d be finally getting ready.

Your nails had been done the night before with a beautiful design in the same colour scheme as the wedding. They looked so pretty and elegant, which was a surprise to you every time you looked at them as you never really bothered doing your nails. While you liked to do fancy makeup looks now and then to post onto social media, nails were not something you were interested in.

Maybe you should reassess that thought.

“Anyway, what we’re all trying, and failing, to say is that Hoseok loves you and if he doesn’t cry then he’s crying inside at how beautiful you are.” Soyeon states firmly, sitting next to you and admiring your nails as well. All the bridesmaids had the same style to keep the theme going and she wiggled her fingers with a bright smile.

“I’m not even ready yet, you don’t know if I’ll be beautiful.”

There’s dead silence in the room after the comment, with even the hairdresser and makeup artist turning to stare at you. Between the six other women in the room, you’re pretty sure that they’ve got every emotion from shock to annoyance to incredulity covered. Feeling yourself get warm at their attention, you look down to your lap in embarrassment.

Obviously, the wrong thing to say.

“Okay, we’re going to ignore that you just said that. You don’t need to be dolled up and in a wedding dress to be beautiful, it’s just going to enhance what you already have. And I don’t want any arguments on that.” Poking your side lightly, you playfully wince at Soyeon as she scolds you. Everyone else is nodding along solemnly before they carry on with whatever they’d been doing.

“Seriously though, I overheard your conversation with Amelia. She’s right. Embrace your feelings but don’t let them overwhelm you. Standing in front of a crowd is nerve-wracking for anyone, but you’ve got the love of your life standing there with you. Just focus on Hoseok, he’ll get you through it. He always has, right?” Soyeon said.

Giving her a half-smile, you nod and do a remarkably good job of looking like a scolded child or something. You know it’s just because she loves you that she doesn’t want you to berate yourself, along with the fact that she knows what you’re like. If someone doesn’t verbally acknowledge your problems then you’ll just obsess over them.

Your phone screen lights up in your lap before it begins to vibrate suddenly, Hoseok’s name visible on the screen. Frowning down at it, you wonder why he’s calling before a multitude of emotions and thoughts runs through your mind.

“Go take it in the bathroom.” Pulling you up, Soyeon practically pushes you into the bathroom before giving you a smile and a thumbs-up as she closes the door.

Seeing the other door is also open, you peek out and let everyone in that room know that you’d be using the bathroom for a few minutes and to not come in. Once you get the acknowledgement, you close and lock it as well before pushing up to sit on the counter.

“Hobi! Why are you calling?” Leaning back against the mirror, you frown deeply as you question him. The first response is just his familiar deep chuckle, the sound already helping to soothe some of your frayed nerves.

“Amelia texted Joon, who told me. I don’t want you to stress yourself out! Not today, today’s meant to be a happy day. No stress. Or anxiety.” Snorting, you roll your eyes as you trace an invisible design onto your thigh.

“Sure, like that’s gonna happen. You know me. And why are you calling? We’re not meant to see each other until the wedding, it’s bad luck!” There’s a brief pause and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes, the deep sigh he lets out telling you all you need to know.

“Meeps, I’m pretty sure that only counts for physically seeing each other. I can’t see you right now. I don’t recall anything about not being allowed to hear you, or talk to you. Besides, we make our luck.” He sounds so nonchalant and now it’s your turn to sigh at him.

“You’re going to get us hit by lightning or something.”

“Impossible, the weather schedule for today is meant to be sunny with a little bit of cloud later on. Nice warm temperatures that aren’t too hot but also not too cold. Perfect. No lightning.” His immediate rebuttal has you laughing, unable to stay mad at him for too long. Not when he’s trying so hard to take your mind off things.

“Seriously though, are you okay? What are you worried about? Talk to me.” Hoseok asks, his voice calm and steady as he stops joking around. There’s a brief moment of resistance, the thought that you don’t want to bother him with your silly thoughts or annoying emotions before you remember that you can trust him. No matter how ridiculous it sounds in your head, Hoseok will listen and he won’t make fun of you.

“I’m just...scared. Of all the people. Like, they’re going to be watching me or staring. What if I look fat or ugly? Or I fuck up saying the vows? Or I drop the ring or my dress splits or something? Or if I trip down the aisle?! Or if you decide you don’t want to marry me anymore?” As you begin to reel off the questions that have been plaguing your mind, you can feel your chest getting a little tighter and your breathing shallower.

With the practised ease of someone who’s dealt with your panic attacks over the years, Hoseok makes calming and reassuring noises over the phone until you’re silent. Just listening to him, you take in the comforting words as he lets you know that you’re okay and everything is fine. Finally, once he thinks you’re calm enough, he carries on.

“Meeps, that’s fine. Don’t be upset that you’re having those thoughts. I’ve had every one of those thoughts today as well. I mean...not the dress one. Substitute that for pants splitting or something, which is even more embarrassing because my underwear is not black today. But the point I’m trying to make here is that it’s normal to have those thoughts today. I’d probably be more worried if you weren’t having them.” He pauses to laugh before you hear shuffling noises.

There’s no doubt he’s probably not even getting into his tuxedo just yet and you curse the fact that men take far less time to get ready than women. He’ll probably only start like...an hour before the ceremony begins or something.

“But all I’ll say is, it doesn’t matter if anything goes wrong because we’ll fix it. You and me, just like always. You won’t look fat or ugly because you’re neither fat nor ugly anyway, instead, you’ll be the most beautiful woman here. Which you always are to me but don’t let my mom hear me tell you that. And I’m going to be standing at the end of the aisle, I promise you that. I’m the one who proposed to you and I will be there, waiting for you. That’s one thing I can assure you of completely.” Hoseok says this firmly, his voice perhaps more serious than you’ve ever heard it before.

You can practically feel his determination to make you understand that he’s going to be there. That he’s going to marry you today, no matter what happens. It makes your heart swell with love and emotion, causing you to press your hand against your mouth.

Hoseok takes your silence as a positive, choosing to let it carry on for a little longer before speaking once more.

“I love you, Meeps. And by the end of today, you’re going to be my wife. We’re going to have a great day with a beautiful ceremony and a fun reception before probably going to bed drunk. Or at least, I’m going to be drunk. Not entirely sure if I’ll be able to take you to Poundtown tonight-”

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“But if not tonight then definitely tomorrow. Unless you don’t want me to drink, in which case probably tonight if you’re up for it.” Shaking your head, you can’t help but smile at his stupid comments. He always knew how to cheer you up, even if it was with the most ridiculous thing you’d heard today.

“You can drink, I’m not going to make you sober throughout the entire reception. I want you to have fun with everyone, so if you end up drunk then that’s fine. Just don’t go overboard.”

“Choosing to ignore my Poundtown comments, I see.”

“Jung Hoseok, I am going to hang up now. I will see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” Feeling a little shy, you murmur your next words into the phone.

“Love you too.”

The ceremony is officially about to start and you stare at the open door, knowing that outside all your guests are waiting. Not only that, but Hoseok is at the end of the aisle. You’d been reassured by everyone there who had peeked out to make sure, quelling your fears and worries.

All the groomsmen had come inside upon finding out you were here, lining themselves up alongside their specified bridesmaid partners and chatting away happily. They all looked incredibly handsome in their suits, the colours matching the bridesmaids perfectly and you felt a little pride at having thought of a good colour scheme.

Your mom is fussing around you, making sure that your dress looks perfect and that your bouquet hasn’t fallen apart or anything. Sighing, you gently push her hands away as she tries once more to move your necklace.

All of them had given you something as part of the tradition for the bride. Dahyun had lent you a beautiful Cartier bracelet, glowing with diamonds, as part of the ‘something borrowed’ while Chungha had bought you diamond earrings for the ‘something new’. Your mom had given you the bracelet she’d worn for her wedding, now occupying your other wrist and Hoseok’s mom had provided the necklace adorning your neck.

It was a beautiful silver necklace with a dainty leaf design, leading to the main piece in the centre which was dotted with tiny diamonds. Each leaf spreading out had either amethyst or an aquamarine gem in alternating order. She’d ordered it specially made for your wedding, matching your engagement ring with the gems and fulfilling the ‘something blue’.

You’d been amazed at everything they’d given you, understanding now why they’d all told you now to buy any jewellery for the day. They’d all decided to make sure you had everything you needed anyway.

But you knew that your mom’s need to keep straightening out your dress or brushing away unseen dust was just to keep herself preoccupied. She’d already cried once when you’d come out in your wedding dress, makeup and hair all done. That had earned her an exasperated sigh from the makeup artist.

“Mom, mom, come on,” You coo to her, smiling before taking her hands and squeezing. “You gotta go out there, go get your place.”

She hesitates for a moment, unwilling to leave you before nodding. After a few words of reassurance from her to you, telling you that you’re going to do well and it’s all going to go fine, she turns and hugs your dad tightly before kissing him. You’d feel embarrassed at the sight of it, never quite being comfortable with your parents' displays of affection, but it just causes you to laugh softly.

Once she’s out the door, you hear the music begin from outside, the notes flowing through the door faintly. Everyone inside quietens and you can almost feel the excitement ramp up. It just makes you feel more nervous though, particularly when they start to head out in their pairs slowly.

“Are you ready?” Your dad asks, his eyes already going glassy with tears as his lip wobbles slightly. Giving him a concerned look, you immediately reach up to wipe the tears as they start to fall, feeling your heartbreak at the sight of your dad crying. He never cried.

“Dad! Don’t cry, oh my god. I’m sorry.” Cleaning up his face quickly, you’re stopped by the gentle way he grasps your wrists. For a moment, you think that he’s going to push you away but instead, he pulls you closer and carefully hugs you.

It’s a little awkward as you’re trying not to ruin the carefully done hair and makeup, but you can’t deny your dad a hug. Especially when you’d never really been much of a hugger growing up. You would be cruel to deny him one, especially on your wedding day. Your parents were feeling emotional that their little girl was getting married today.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just your old dad getting sappy. You look so beautiful. Hoseok is so lucky, you better remind him of that every day.” He’s pulled back now, giving you the softest smile that is still a little watery. His hands move to your shoulders and he stands back to examine you fully, his eyes taking in everything.

Before you can respond to him, Yoongi is disappearing out of the door and heading towards the aisle. He’s alone, as you’d planned, but in one hand is the bouquet that Hoseok’s sister would’ve held had she still been alive. It had been his suggestion to hold it, symbolising the family member that Hoseok didn’t have anymore and you’d been more than willing to agree.

You wondered what Hoseok thought when he saw it as neither of you had told him that Yoongi would be holding it. Hopefully, he was happy with it, along with his parents.

Turning back to you, your dad squeezes your shoulders reassuringly before smiling at you. Ironically, all it does is make you more nervous as you realise that now you’re the one who’s going to have to walk down that aisle next.

“Come on, it’s time to make your fiancé cry.” His words in a teasing tone, your dad turns to face the door before offering you his arm. Standing there, you stare at him before looking at the door with trepidation. Nerves roil in your stomach as you hear the faint sound of music playing, knowing that everyone out there is waiting for you.

Which in turn means everyone will be staring at you.

Those nerves quickly turn to anxiety and your breath comes faster, chest feeling a little constricted by the tight bodice of the dress. Without even realising it, your hands start to shake and the bouquet in them shudders visibly.

Quickly, your dad takes the bouquet from you to make sure that you don’t accidentally deflower them or crush the stems. The last thing you needed was to ruin your perfect bouquet only minutes before you were supposed to walk down the aisle.

It frees up your hands and you find yourself flapping them as you stress, trying to shake out the negative emotions as you pant. Your dad’s eyes widen, obviously panicking himself at your obvious distress. He’s never had to deal with you struggling like this before and he doesn’t know what to do but his paternal instincts kick in quickly.

“Hey, come on, sweetheart. Breathe, breathe. Take a big breath in, come on, that’s it. Not let it out slowly. And again, that’s right.” Talking to you in his comforting voice, tone level and low, you follow his instructions and start to feel a little calmer as you force yourself to calm your breathing. It’s hard, and you still feel the anxiety but it feels a little more manageable now.

Closing your eyes, you run through all the tips your therapist had given you for how to cope with anxiety attacks. What worked for you was to sing in your head, the lyrics, whatever song you were loving lately. It probably takes longer than you’d have liked but finally you feel like you can cope with your emotions enough to carry on.

When you open your eyes again, your dad is giving you an expectant, yet worried, look. Shaking your hands once more, you reach out and take the bouquet from him before taking a deep breath. Linking your arm through his, you straighten your shoulders and lift your chin before smiling at him.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

Walking down the aisle is surprisingly less stressful than you’d imagined. The famous wedding song plays through the air as you walk slowly and the whole atmosphere feels almost like a fairytale. The soft lights twinkle even in the daylight while the gentle, warm breeze makes the ribbons on the chairs flutter delicately.

Along the floor, the white and purple rose petals that Namjoon’s daughter had spread in her role as flower girl were strewn haphazardly. A few of them caught the breeze and rolled delicately to a new place, making it seem like the floor was consistently changing. You liked it, smiling at the sight of how beautiful everything looked.

Everyone was staring at you, as you’d expected, but surprisingly it wasn’t as intimidating as you’d thought. You didn’t exactly enjoy it but it wasn’t terrible. Probably because you were more focused on initially admiring how perfect everything looked. How months and months of thought and money had finally accumulated into the perfect wedding.

But mostly, you weren’t as bothered by the staring because you were focused on the end of the aisle. There was no real altar here, given that it was being held at a hotel and everything, but the metal garden arch at the end had been decorated in delicate flowers, ribbons and lights to make an even better end.

And beneath it stood Hoseok.

If you’d ever thought Hoseok looked handsome before then it paled in comparison to him today. His black tuxedo made him look tall and slim, every part of him looking perfectly put together and elegant. The deep purple waistcoat beneath his jacket contrasted with the white of his shirt perfectly; the colour combination making his skin almost glow with health and happiness.

There was only the slightest hint of tattoos at the edge of his collar, leaving to the imagination the artwork he had permanently on his body beneath his clothes but you didn’t need to imagine. You’d seen them all, traced them delicately into your memory over the years until you could point out where they were without even seeing them.

Finally reaching him, you paused to look at your dad and gave him a bright smile of gratitude before giving him a second hug. This one was a little tighter than before and when you let go of him, you saw that he was crying once more. He didn’t give your hand to Hoseok, instead just gave him a stern look while trying to surreptitiously wipe away his tears.

“You look after her, Jung Hoseok. You make sure she’s the happiest woman.” There’s iron in his voice, telling Hoseok that it wasn’t a question but more a command. But there’s also love and affection in it, something Hoseok can tell as well by the way he nods his head.

Handing your bouquet to Chungha, you take Hoseok’s proffered hand. Up close, you can take in the details of his face better and you take a moment to simply admire him and imprint him into your memory.

The sides of his head had been shaven, the undercut short and seen with the style he’d chosen to wear today. His hair had been styled back, pushed away from his forehead. It was a look that had made you weak in the knees many times over the years and you’d practically begged him to have it for the wedding, knowing that he’d blow everyone’s mind with how handsome he looked.

Hoseok had a face that looked like it had been hand-carved by the gods from the finest marble anyway and this hairstyle showed off all the highlights of his face. The high cheekbones that made his smiles so animated, his cutting jawline, the clean slope of his nose, the heart-shaped smile that lit his entire face and the dimples that made him seem so human.

His lip ring was still in, the silver shining in the sunlight. He’d been unsure whether to wear it but you’d told him to embrace himself and keep it. You’d fallen in love with him as he was, and you wanted him to show himself how you saw him. Which included his piercings and tattoos.

Your heart clenched though when you looked into his eyes finally. Hoseok’s eyes were one of your favourite things about him. The crescents they turned into when he smiled brightly, pushed into the shape by his cheeks and the way his eyes could practically dance with delight when he was happy.

Today though, those beautiful and expressive eyes were watery with tears. The wet streak on his cheek told you that he’d already had some of them fall and you frowned at the sight of them. Everyone had been right; Hoseok had cried upon seeing you down the aisle.

“Baby.” You whisper, unsure if you’re meant to talk to him. Deciding you don’t care, you reach up to wipe away the tears and smile when he kisses the palm of your hand before nuzzling into it, uncaring of everyone else.

“Meeps, you look perfect. I read your letter, I love you too.” Before you can stop him, he’s leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. There’s a murmur in the crowd, alongside some laughter and he looks over at everyone with a raised brow.

No one says anything though and he gets a satisfied look, ignoring your shy expression as you turn away from everyone.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” Keeping your voice low, you give a hesitant smile to the official who will be taking you both through your ceremony. Hoseok lets out a snort of laughter as he squeezes your hand tight, letting his thumb run along the back of your hand lovingly.

“I don’t care. It’s our wedding, I’ll do what I want.” And before you can stop him, he turns you and gives you another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. Eyes widening, you can’t help but giggle as you hear yet more laughter.

You should be annoyed at him, but you know he’s a force of nature. Plus, you don’t care. It feels nice to know he can’t help himself.

“Okay, let’s get married, Meeps.” He grins at you before facing the officiant once more. Staring at him a moment longer, you smile at him and nod.

“Let’s get married.”

Hobi Hobi,

We’re getting married today! Are you excited? I hope you’re reading this when I told you to, if not then you’re cheating >:[ it feels weird to write a letter. I don’t even know if I’ve ever done this before, so I’m sorry if it sounds really cheesy and lame. What do people write in these normally? I’m just going to write what comes to mind so if it ends up sappy then you’re not allowed to tease me later about it.

Anyway, I want you to know that I’m sorry that I suck so much at telling you how I feel and my emotions. I wish I could be one of those people who’s telling you every moment how handsome you are and how much I love you but I can’t. I’m sorry :( I’m trying, I swear! Even if I don’t get to tell you as often as you deserve, I hope you know that I love you more than anything in the world.

Don’t ever forget that, okay? Even when we’re arguing over something silly or we go to bed mad at each other, don’t forget that. I know we’re pretty good at talking things out but there’s always that chance that we could have a big blowout. So I want you to remember that I love you.

I’m still not entirely sure what I did to deserve you, but I don’t regret sending you that message. If anything, I think I should send the Flower team a big bunch of flowers or something for creating the algorithm that brought you up as a match. Imagine if it hadn’t and I’d just deleted the app, we’d have never met and I’d still be lonely and sad.

But we did meet, and I took a chance on you by sending you that embarrassing message. And then you took a chance by actually meeting up with me and going on that date. I still remember it, and I don’t know if I ever told you but I still have the ticket for the escape room. I know you still have yours in your wallet :) Thank you for giving me your time, even if I wasn’t your type. I hope I’m your type now.

I’m not sure that I will ever be able to tell you how important you are to me. Not only myself but my life. You’ve helped me to embrace myself and learn to love myself over the years through kindness. I know my limits in terms of my mental health now and you’ve helped to support me with the medication and the therapist. Neither of those were things I’d been comfortable with doing before your encouragement. But you also gave me a safe space to break down in; somewhere that I knew I could be at my most vulnerable mentally without having to risk being hurt even more.

You held me when I cried, you comforted me when I panicked and you calmed my anxiety over the years. I can never thank you enough for helping me to understand that these aren’t deficiencies and I’m not broken. I just need a little help to get through things sometimes. At the same time, I hope that I’ve become that safe space for you as well. I know that you’re not as emotional as I am, but I feel that you’ve opened up to me about things that hurt you. I’ll keep your secrets safe and I’ll always be here for you!

I hope you’re happy with your life now. With me, and our home and our furbabies. I hope you stay happy, and if you don’t then talk to me. Please. I don’t want us to ever realise that we’re making each other unhappy and I don’t want to ever be the reason for negativity. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in our little home, growing old together as we play board games and dote on our animals while you increase your tattoo collection even more. I know that people like to say that they can’t imagine their lives with their significant other, but I really do feel like that.

My life without you would be hollow and monochrome, as you bring colour to my world and fill it with joy and happiness. I’ve never laughed as much as I have these last few years with you and I know we’ll keep that in our relationship if we try hard.

I don’t really know where this letter is going and I’m babbling now. But I guess the main thing is just that I can’t wait to marry you. It may not be very feminist of me but I can’t wait to take your name and be your wife. I can’t wait to call you my husband. I’m going to be terrified in the ceremony and so nervous but I’ll be happy too, I promise! I still can’t believe that you picked me, out of all the women you’ve seen, to be your girlfriend and then decided that you wanted to marry me.

Jung Hoseok, I solemnly swear to treasure you for the rest of your life and make sure you know how much I love you. I might not be able to tell you all that much, but I’ll show you. I’ll make you smile and laugh, I’ll buy you things that make me think of you, I’ll hug you tight and cuddle you until you’re complaining.

So in case it wasn’t obvious enough, I love you. I just want you to know because I know I suck at telling you, like I said. I’m also bad at writing letters but what’s new? I’ll finish this off quickly so you’re not spending too long reading this. Don’t want to make you late for our wedding after all.

I love you. I love you, Jung Hoseok. I love you, Hobi. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Lots and lots and lots of love, your soon to be wife <333333

429 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Text

Truth Or Drink

I have so many ideas for social media videos that I literally looked up the Lion Pride channel on YouTube the other day before remembering that it exists in my head. Oops! This was inspired by Cut’s Truth or Drink series, but Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for alcohol and a few sexual references

“I’ve never played this before,” a kind-looking woman in a blue cardigan says as Marlene sets three bottles of alcohol on the end of their small table.

“Are we going to need all of that?” Sirius asks, looking alarmed.

“That remains to be seen. Welcome back to Truth or Drink, Lions!” she says, looking up at the camera with a wicked smile. “My name is Marlene McKinnon and I’m here with Captain Sirius Black and his soon-to-be mother-in-law, the lovely Hope Lupin.”

Hope waves at the camera with a cheerful smile. “Hello.”

“For today’s game, you two will be asking each other a series of uncomfortable questions, which you will either answer or have to take a shot. And no, taking a shot of the provided juice does not count.” Marlene levels a warning glare on Sirius, who raises his hands in surrender as she returns to her place behind the camera. “Do you want to start with some alcohol?”

“Absolutely,” Hope says, pouring out two glasses. “I have never seen you actually drink, did you know that?”

“First time for everything, I suppose.” They clink their shots together and drink; Sirius grimaces a little at the taste. “Marlene, this is awful.”

Hope frowns slightly. “This is from my hometown.”

“Really?” Sirius’ eyes widen and she starts to snicker.

“No, I’m messing with you,” she laughs, patting him on the arm. “Oh, honey, your face.”

He drops his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. “I knew he got it from somewhere. Would you like to ask the first question?”

Hope takes the first card off the top and snorts as she reads it. “I already know the answer to this one.”

“You’re not even going to ask it?” Sirius laughs when she sets it aside.

“Would you ever cheat on Remus?”

“God, no.”

She spreads her hands in a told you so manner and takes a new card. “How long did you and my son know each other before you slept together?”

“Almost exactly two years.” She eyes him skeptically. “It’s true!”

“How long did you know each other before you started dating, again?”

Sirius hesitates, then looks behind the camera. “She can’t ask that if it’s not on the card, right?”

The camera crew giggles in the background. “Technically, no,” Marlene manages. “But we’ll make an exception.”

Sirius pours a shot and drinks it. “My turn. Do you think I take good care of your son?”

“For sure,” Hope answers without hesitating. “You two are so good for each other and that’s clear to everyone who knows you.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“Of course, honeybun. What is one thing about my son that you know and I don’t?”

“He sings in the shower,” Sirius says.

“No, really?” she gasps dramatically. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Actually, that’s a tough question.” He thinks for a moment, then grins. “The superstitions are worse than ever.”

“That is not surprising,” Hope sighs. “You hockey players and your rituals.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Alright, what is your least favorite thing about me?”

“I know it’s your job, but I hate seeing you get into fights on the ice.”

“We have pads on, it’s okay.”

“I know, but still.” Hope draws another card and raises her eyebrows at him. “Have you ever had sex in my house?”

“Definitely not. Marlene, you and I are having a discussion after this.” He turns away from the camera as he takes a card. “Was there ever a time you wished we would break up?”

“No, never.”

“Not even once?”

“Nope.”

“Good, that means I’m doing something right.”

“You’re doing lots of things right,” Hope says. Sirius flushes all the way to his ears. “What is the sexiest thing about my son?”

“His heart.” He smiles a bit. “Everything he does comes from a good place.”

“I think the card means a physical aspect,” Marlene calls.

“Too late, I already answered it. Do you think Remus and I will last?”

Hope seems surprised by the question. “Of course I do. You love each other beyond belief and have already gone through so much together that marriage is going to be a breeze. I couldn’t be prouder of you. It’s—it’s rare to find something like what you have.”

“Oh, Hope, it’s okay,” Sirius says as she sniffles lightly.

“Ugh, I didn’t think this would be emotional. Bring back the horribly invasive ones, please,” she teases, swiping under her eyes with the edge of her sweater and reaching for a new card. “Ah, this one is suitably dangerous. Do you actually enjoy being around your in-laws?”

Sirius reaches for the alcohol and she gasps before he starts laughing. “Oh, I got you so good!”

“Is that payback?”

“Yes. To answer the question, I love hanging out with you guys. You’re the best in-laws anyone could ask for and you’ve really become like parents to me over the past year. I’m the luckiest person in the world.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, and Hope squeezes his hand quickly.

“Those were the last questions,” Marlene says. “Do you want to do the goodbye?”

Sirius waves to the camera. “Thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride! I’m Sirius Black—”

“—and I’m Hope Lupin—”

“Signing off.”

#sirius black #hope lupin #sweater weather #lumosinlove #social media #lion pride #marlene mckinnon #my fic #fanfic

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years ago

Text

Scandalous(2)

An infamous Influencer that is known for getting into drama befriends ImAllexx, George doesn’t trust them one bit.

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Pronouns: They/Them

______________

A few days had passed since George and Alex had talked about Y/n coming to the UK. Only in an hour or two, George would have to go out with Alex and a few other friends to meet Y/n for the first time. There was no point in lying, George was still a bit nervous about them, how could he be sure Y/n wasn't going to try and pull something on them?

The brunette found himself standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans, a faded mark sat on his old school Vans, he had tried to get it off when it first appeared, but only had it fade so the mark had become not as noticeable as it used to be. George had just spent the last thirty minutes working on his appearance, if he was going out for drinks, he wanted to look good. And with a touch of cologne, George made his way out into the living room. Alex sat on the couch scrolling through Instagram, he had messed with his hair, making it look a bit neater than usual.

The blue-eyed male made his way over to the side of the couch,"Are we going soon, or not?" A denim jacket was tossed over the arm of the piece of furniture, he picked the item of clothing, beginning to put it on.

"Yeah, I was just waiting for you," Alex tucked his phone away into his pocket as he stood up.

"Do we have to pick up Y/n, or are they going to get to the bar on their own?" George made his way over to the front door as his roommate had turned of the last light that had been left on.

"They said they'll just Uber to the bar, so we won't have to worry about picking them up."

The car ride to the bar was quiet, George had gotten lost in his thoughts as he stared out of the passenger's window. The dumpster fire could only happen so soon, Y/n wasn't a good person. He had seen their name in too many scandals, if they somehow ended up dragging him or his friends into something that could end their careers, he'd be absolutely livid.

As soon as they had entered the bar, both of the boys had received a text from Will, telling them he could spot them from the table. After taking a moment to have his eyes glaze over the scene, Alex's eyes landed on Will and his girlfriend. They sat at a decent-sized table, there would definitely be enough room for everyone.

Once George had taken a seat and started a conversation with his friends, the problematic YouTuber had disappeared from his mind. It felt good to get out with friends again, it had been a while since the last time he had been out. Just then, George had noticed Alex was on a call. Maybe he was talking to Y/n. If he was talking to them, a million different things could be happening. George had flickered his eyes away from his roommate, trying to keep him from noticing he was watching.

"Yeah, no problem, I'll be out in a minute." George could hear Alex faintly as the music in the background almost drowned out his voice. Just as the brunette turned to George, Alex placed his phone into his back pocket. "Hey, James is outside with Aria. He dropped their keys so I'm gonna go and help them out. Watch my beer." He now raised his voice, making himself loud enough for George to hear him.

"Alright, I'll keep my eyes on it," George flashed a small grin. Part of him was a bit happier knowing Y/n wasn't here yet, but the other half of him knew any minute they could show up.

As soon as Alex had disappeared from his sight, it had only taken a moment before Will had spoken up. "You ready to meet them?"

Pulling his gaze away from where he last saw Alex, George turned back to face his other friend. "Not at all, I'm just gonna try and keep my distance for the next couple of days."

"Hopefully they don't end up screwing us over," Will took a sip of his beer, taking a moment to look around for any sign of Y/n.

"Exactly why I'm going to try and stay as far away as possible from them," the blue-eyed man replied, he began to stare off into nothing.

"I've heard Y/n has slept with plenty of people," Will shook his head as he placed his beer back down. "I hope Alex is stupid enough to end up in bed with them."

"I doubt Alex would do something like that, he's smarter than that." George's eyes landed on a pair of familiar faces approaching the table. James and Aria had finally entered the bar.

"Hey guys," James grinned as he came into earshot of the table.

"Hey, is Alex with you?" George had noticed his flatmate hadn't followed Aria and James in. Or maybe George just hadn't seen Alex yet in the crowded building.

"He's still outside, Y/n showed up."

This was the big moment, he was finally going to meet the scandalous influencer. He could tell he had become a bit more nervous. It felt as though something in his stomach tied up into a knot.

"I stole a glance at Y/n before walking in and they're much prettier in person. They looked like a model," George overheard Aria speak to Mia. He continued to keep an eye out for his flatmate, waiting to spot him anywhere.

His blue eyes finally landed on a 5'7 man walked alongside someone else. Y/n and Alex were approaching the table as they smiled, each spoke to one another as they were already close friends. As their head turned, Y/n's eyes met George's, and just for a short moment, Y/n smiled at him and waved. Y/n was quite attractive just as Aria said, but George knew he had to be wary.

'They're only here to screw us over,' George averted his gaze from Y/n as he thought to himself.

"Hey guys!" As soon as Y/n came into earshot of the table, they spoke with a smile on their face. One by one, they introduced themself to each person. A handshake to Will, a hug to Mia, a side hug to James, a hug to Aria, and George... Y/n stuck her hand out with a smile, only for him to hesitantly shake her hand with a small, fake smile plastered on his face. As soon as introductions were over, Y/n took a seat between Mia and Alex, sitting across from George.

Once again, they made eye contact. Something shot down George's spine this time when he looked Y/n in the eye. 'They've seen your identity, you're gonna have to hang around them for the next couple of days... what if there's any chance Y/n snaps a picture of him?' George took a sip of his drink, his mind starting to race with thoughts as he tried to find some way to distract himself. Staring up at the ceiling, he had started to pay so much more attention to the roof decor.

But as the night rolled on, George had continued to steal glances at Y/n. he found himself worrying every time they pulled out their phone. Every now and then, Y/n would make eye contact with George, only to give a small wave and an awkward smile. One thing George noticed was how Y/n hadn't bothered to consume one drop of alcohol. They had started the night off with water, only to get a virgin margarita at some point.

"you're acting like a nonce with the way you look at them." Will had leaned over, making sure to whisper in George's ear to keep Y/n from overhearing him. "Y/n doesn't seem that bad as people make them out to be. Relax, George."

You've only know them personally for 2 hours," George scoffed quietly. Y/n's gaze turned to the pair of men sitting across from them.

"You alright, George?"

"Just peachy," he replied, taking a sip of his beer as he looked away from Y/n.

"Just stop acting like a hardass, try and be more open and nice to them. You're the only one acting bitter at this table."

George had been handed a cell phone, Y/n stood in front of him with a sincere smile. "Hey, I was hoping you could take a photo of me with the group? I thought it'd be best if I asked you, after all you are hiding your identity..."

"Uh, yeah. Sure," George took a step back as he lifted the cell phone. Quickly he snapped a few shots of the group before handing the phone back to Y/n.

"Wow, thank you. These are really good," Y/n smiled down at their phone as they swiped through the few photos George had taken.

"George did great," Alex had snuck a peek of the photos from over Y/n's shoulder.

"Hey, Y/n can you send some of those to me?" Mia spoke up before taking a sip of her cocktail.

"Me too!" Aria added on.

Eventually, one by one everyone made their exit. Mia and Will had left together, so did Aria and James. Y/n had decided they would just uber back to their hotel after paying for their drinks.

"You know, we wouldn't mind dropping you off," Alex spoke as the trio walked out of the bar.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to take up any more of your time tonight."

"It's fine, Y/n. You're our guest, we wouldn't mind one bit," Alex replied, implying that he was speaking for both himself and George. George didn't say anything as his flatmate continued to speak.

The car ride was quiet. Y/n sat in the back of the car as they stared out the window. Something inside Alex was worried Y/n had found the silence awkward, when really they found it peaceful.

"How does the time difference feel for you, Y/n?" Alex broke the silence as he looked through the driver's mirror at the other influencer for a brief moment.

"It definitely feels different. It's only like 3 pm in LA at the moment." Y/n turned to look at Alex, "But I still need to get to sleep, I don't' wanna be sleep deprived tomorrow while we're doing stuff."

Soon enough, the car had pulled up to the Mandarin hotel. Stepping out of the vehicle, Y/n had thanked both George and Alex for a wonderful night before heading towards the entrance of the building.

George watched as Y/n disappeared behind the doors, leaving Alex to begin driving away from the building. As soon as they were out of the parking lot, Alex began to speak. "So what do you think of Y/n?"

"They seem fine, I'm just worried they'll fuck us over."

"Y/n isn't as bad of a person as people make them out to be, George."

"You cannot be that stupid, Alex."

"You shouldn't be the one to talk, George. Have you been talking to them for months? Have you developed a good friendship with them? Why would they put so much time towards developing a friendship with me if they had planned to show up and screw me and my friends over?"

"You cannot know someone from only texting and FaceTiming."

At this point, Alex had nothing to say to George. The car ride back to the flat had been filled with tension for the rest of the time. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot, Alex got out of the car. George sat there for a moment as he thought to himself. He had begun to massage his temples for a brief moment. He just needed to recollect himself and apologize tomorrow.

Cardigan had played as Y/n found themself dancing around their suite in a bathrobe. Of course, they made sure the music was being played at a respectable tone, they didn't want to upset anyone. Y/n had just got out of the shower, after a long night that was just the one thing they needed. But before they knew it, their music ended. Y/n looked over to where their phone had been placed on a table.

Bretman was calling. Picking up the phone, Y/n took a seat on the edge of their bed before answering the call.

"You interrupted Folklore."

"damn alright bitch, I thought you'd be happy I called you."

"I'm always happy to hear your voice, Bret," Y/n let out a chuckle from their friend's sense of humor. "How's it been back at home?"

"Same old, same old I guess. It's just been a bit more boring."

"I didn't think you'd notice my absence."

"N/n, I come over to your house like eight days a week, of fucking course I'm gonna notice my best bitch isn't there." Sass could be heard in Bretman's voice as he spoke, "But anyway, spot. any cute guys yet?"

"Wow, asking about the guys before asking how's my day been."

"Oh, I'm sorry, how was your day, your highness?"

"It was alright, when I got here it was like five pm, it took me the whole day just to get over here," Y/n smiled, remembering how quickly the day seemed to pass by.

"How'd that go?"

"Smooth, as usual."

"That's good to hear, anyways... back to the guys."

Letting out a small laugh, Y/n leaned back, laying down on their bed now. "Well I don't really think anyone caught my eye. Two of the guys I met had girlfriends already, and Alex is just a friend." That was a lie. There had been one person that caught Y/n's eye as soon as they saw him. It was Alex's flatmate, George. He did seem quite closed off, but Y/n couldn't help but find him quite attractive.

Y/n absolutely didn't want any way for George's name to get tossed around. Yes, he had over four million subscribers so he was already pretty well known, but Y/n didn't want there to be any chance of other people trying to find his identity. They knew a lot of snakes, Y/n just didn't want to be the reason one of Alex's friends could get caught up in a scandal.

"Dam, that sucks babe. I thought British guys were supposed to be hot."

"It's fine, Bret. Anyways, I think I'm gonna go to bed now. It's late here."

"Well it's only 3:30 for me, so I don't know how you're gonna fall asleep."

"I'll find a way."

"Please don't hang up yet, Y/n. It feels like forever since we last talked," Bretman had resorted to whining over the phone. He just wanted his friend to stay on the call longer.

"Bye, Bret," Y/n cooed softly. As they hung up, they could hear Bretman's whining being cut off.

After a few moments of getting settled, Y/n found themself laying in bed. The curtains had been pulled back, revealing London through their windows. Lights had been shining throughout the city, pulling Y/n's attention away from trying to rest.

They just couldn't find themself going to sleep anytime soon, their head was full of thoughts. George was stuck on their mind, he was so cold tonight. Even if it only hurt their feelings a small bit, they didn't show it. Y/n didn't want to ruin the night by being in a sour mood from how George acted. They could understand why he acted the way he did by the end of the night.

He probably knew about how Y/n had been caught up in quite a few scandals in the past, he probably thought they weren't a good person. They just wished there was some way they could break through to George, they weren't such a bad guy at the end of the day. Alex had talked about his flatmate, George always seemed like a loveable dork.

Before they knew it, they had been romanticizing the thought of being in a relationship with George. Y/n needed to remind themself; it's not going to happen. George was an incredibly private person, he would never even consider dating someone like them.

Y/n was just an infamous influencer who would get attention no matter where they were. George was a smaller influencer compared to Y/n, someone who wouldn't even consider filming a video outside of his bedroom.

Letting out a sigh, Y/n turned to their side, closing their eyes. Maybe if they fell asleep they could get all of this out of their mind.

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 6

Haha, I’m so excited for this chapter. Please let me know what y’all think! Also a huge thank you to everyone who has liked/commented/reblogged. You guys deserve all the love and cookies possible!

Warnings: swearing, fluff (i think that’s it, sorry if i miss something)

Words: 7300 (i feel like my chapters keep getting longer. oops?)

Tag List: @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls

Series Masterlist

The aroma of coffee surrounded Kari like a warm, comforting blanket. The café was just the perfect amount of busy, there were a few other tables occupied but without feeling cramped or overwhelming. The lunch rush was just beginning, indicated by the number of patrons standing in line to order now.

The brunette sipped on her latte as she slowly swiped through the pictures on Gyda's phone. The two were finally meeting up for an early lunch and coffee after a yoga class. Gyda had been gushing about the trip she just returned from to Phnom Penh, telling stories of the week she spent there and letting Kari slide through the pictures on her phone.

"These are just gorgeous. Gods, you have the best job, I swear."

Gyda laughed, picking at the muffin in front of her. "I know. I can't imagine doing anything else though."

"When do you leave again?"

"Mmmm…. I’m not sure yet. The company is wanting me to go to Vancouver, British Columbia next. I might wait until the end of September to go. I'm not sure. Either way, it won't be for at least a month. Depends on how soon I want to go visit mom."

"Why wouldn't you want to go soon?" Kari perked up at the mention of Gyda's mother. She knew the two were close, but all she really knew about Lagertha was from what Ivar told her.

"I'm not a fan of her new boyfriend. Sorry, she prefers the term "lover". Kalf works for her, specifically with contacts from their Mediterranean partners and overseeing some of the shipments."

"Why don't you like him?" She swiped to the next image, a stunning picture of the Cambodian royal palace.

The blonde waved her hand vaguely, as if swatting a fly. "He hasn't done anything; I just don't like him."

"That's fair. Does he treat your mom well?"

"Yeah. She just has shit luck with men and I'm worried how this one will turn out." She sipped on her coffee, gazing out the nearby window for a moment.

Kari turned back to the phone, guessing there was more that Gyda was not saying. Not that she needed to know. No, she had enough drama in her life currently and his name was Ivar.

Both women lounged in the wooden café chairs, still in their yoga clothes, having come straight from the studio. Except Gyda changed her footwear, losing the sandals for a pair of wedge heels that made her long legs look like skyscrapers. It was hard not to envy Gyda's body, and Torvi for that matter. They both had the perfect hourglass figure, with all the right assets and gorgeously braided, blonde hair. Maybe it was some standard that women around the Lothbroks had perfect bodies. It made Kari wonder why Ivar paid her any attention then. Her body was far from perfect. Her chest side was decent, but she always thought her hips and thighs were too large. Most likely leftover critiques from her mother who not-so-lovingly would say Kari was pear-shaped and needed to focus on losing all that extra or no man would want her. Not that she was trying to get a man. Over the past two years she had finally come to embrace her body and was learning to be comfortable in her own skin. Though some days were better than others. It was still difficult to watch Gyda receive appreciative looks from many of the patrons as they passed by their table and know none of them would even give her a second glance. The blonde was effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps there was a way for her to teach Kari that.

Suddenly Gyda zeroed in on the brunette with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Speaking about men…."

"Are you going on a date?"

Gyda snorted, with an amused grin on her face. "Hell no. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. I am perfectly fine being single. Stop changing the subject. There is a little something going around the Lothbrok rumor mill that Ivar took you on a date to Casa mia, Maggiore."

"Not a date, it was just as friends." Kari clarified.

She gave her an incredulous look. "Just friends?"

"Yes."

Gyda narrowed her eyes at her.

"What? We went out to Casa mia, Maggiore and then I convinced him to go to Masterpiece. After he dropped me back off at home. Nothing happened."

"Right…." Gyda hummed. "So, it was a date."

Kari dropped her face into her hands with a groan. "Not a date. Just friends."

"Whatever you say. Just know Ivar doesn't take just anyone to his favorite restaurant. Hell, I think he only took his ex there once in the ten months they were dating. He usually only goes with Aslaug."

"Oh? Um, I didn't know…" The brunette hated how she perked up at this new information. It should not matter hearing that he never took anyone, that it really was his favorite restaurant and he wanted to share it with her. In their texting, he made reference to when they went back, what food he wanted her to try next. Something apparently, he was not even inclined to do with an ex. No, none of that should matter. But it did, and the way her heart swelled at the realization only proved that to her.

"Clearly he really likes you to take you there. Do you like him?"

"Sure, he's a good friend."

Gyda sighed dramatically, tipping her head back. "You're killing me, Kari! Fine! When was this not-date? A week ago?"

"Eight days, yeah."

"Have you hung out since then?"

"Yeah, he picked me up once and we went out for dinner. Another time, he took me out on my lunch break. He had to go on a business trip so I haven't seen him in…. three days?"

"Right. I'm guessing he's blowing up your phone while he's been gone?"

Kari took a sip of her drink as she mumbled, "sort of." The truth was they were practically texting non-stop. It was mostly discussions, and arguments on his side, of superficial things like TV shows, the proper time to wake up in the morning and her lack of clothing that was more than yoga attire. Other times they sent memes back and forth or links to funny YouTube clips. Kari never realized how lonely she was before Ivar thrust himself into her life with all the force and subtlety of a rocket.

"What does that mean?" Gyda eyed her for a long moment before she gasped and slapped the table. "Oh shit! Is he sending you dick pics?"

Kari choked on air. After hacking for a couple of seconds, tears coming to her eyes because of the action, she vigorously shook her head. "No! No! Ewww....no! We keep sending stupid memes to each other and talking about where we should go out next. That's it. I promise."

The blonde laughed loudly at Kari's reaction, who fiddled with her earring, face burning with embarrassment. The two sat quietly for a couple of minutes, sipping their drinks and watching the line of lunch patrons increase.

"So…. it kind of sounds like you're dating."

"No, we're just friends. Why can't friends just hang out?" Kari tried to argue. The beginning tendrils of annoyance creeping in at constantly having to defend their friendship.

Gyda stared at her. "Have you made-out?"

A blush colored Kari's cheeks before she could figure out a good enough lie, giving away the truth.

"What?! How often?!" Her enthusiastic friend cried, before waving her hand once again. "Never mind. Listen, he's taking you out to his favorite restaurant. He is clearly going out of his way to spend time with you. He is texting you! You don't realize how big of a deal this is for him! He generally hates people. I'm positive he has murder plans for most of those he is forced to be around. Does he know you're just friends? Because to me, it doesn't sound like it."

Kari covered her face with her hands, tears of frustration springing to her eyes. Ivar and her could only be friends, that was what she promised herself. If he knew her, the real her…. it would never happen. He would never want her. So it was best to remain friends, to protect both of them from the inevitability that anything more would never happen. Even though their line of friendship was blurring…. and that was the worst part. She found herself wishing to continue to blur that line, even when she knew it would only end in disaster. Taking a deep breath, she could smell his cologne, a scent she had become so used to now. Her mind could easily conjure the feeling of being in his arms, his mouth on hers as she gave in under his touch. She cared for him, deep down she knew more than a friend. Although he could annoy her to no end, she enjoyed his presence, his humor, that vulnerable side that peeked out occasionally, how he made her feel safe and beautiful.

Now hearing Gyda pointedly telling her that Ivar was treating her as more than a friend. It left her speechless and wondering if she was making a mistake.

Gyda’s tone softened when she spoke next. "Why are you so set on just friends?"

"I just…. I don't want to date right now. After my last relationship, I just want to focus on myself."

"That's fair but listen, he isn't going to wait around for you forever."

"I know. I don't want him too." She admitted, tugging on her earring. Though her statement was the truth, it still tasted bitter on her tongue.

"Ok, but does he know that? It sounds like he’s set on you, but I'm going to warn you. Don't break his heart. He isn't the type to recover from heartbreak. His heart is already locked up more securely than Fort Knox but if you break it…."

"I promise, that isn't my intent. I just…. can't. I like him, more than I thought I would. He is funny and charming and sweet but also infuriating and demanding and I've had more fun with him than I've ever had with a guy friend before. He…. I can be myself around him and I think he can too. But I just…. It can't go further than friendship."

Gyda mulled over her words. "Alright. I don't fully understand but I get it. It's nice to hear that he's connecting with someone. None of us liked his ex. He only really spends time with family or Floki."

"I don't want to hurt him." Kari whispered.

"I know. You're too sweet to purposefully do something like that." The blonde tilted her head to the side with a slowly growing smug look. "I give it until the end of the year and you'll be naked in his bed."

"Gods! What? Why would you say that?"

"He's a Lothbrok. They always get what they want."

*****

Kari laid curled up on her full-size bed, her laptop up and watching Downton Abbey. A heating pad rested on her abdomen as she waited for the pain relievers to kick in. Most of her life she was happy with, but the one thing she would easily trade out would be the painful cramps when PMSing. The birth control she took helped out, but there was usually still one day that the dreaded cramps hit hard.

Her phone dinged. Languidly reaching over, she grabbed it from beside her pillow and opened it to check the text.

Ivar: wat r u doin?

He texted her earlier that day saying he was returning home from his sudden business trip.

Kari: nothing

Ivar: good. bts.

She groaned, slamming her face into her pillow. She did not have the energy to deal with him right now. All she wanted was to relax and eat her body weight in chocolate. After a moment of self-pity, she texted him back, hoping she could get out of whatever he had planned already.

Kari: no, I don't feel good.

Ivar: wat wrong?

Kari: nothing bad.

Sure, they had been talking daily for over a week but that did not mean she wanted to divulge her period issues to him. There were a few things she knew and one was that guys did not like talking about the menstrual cycle.

When he did not text back right away, she turned her attention back to her laptop and the TV show playing. Soon enough the magic of pain relievers and hot pads kicked in and her pain was minimal, though she had no intentions of leaving her warm cocoon. Alana was at her night class, so Kari was home alone. Not unusual really, but tonight she certainly felt the urge to lay around and do nothing.

After about twenty minutes, she heard a loud knock on her front door. Alana was not home, so it could not be any of her friends. Her neighbor, Erik, never just showed up. He always made sure to text before coming to her door. Maybe there was some kind of emergency? Or a package being dropped off? Though at this time it was certainly getting late for any kind of deliveries. Then it hit her.

Ivar.

"Ughhhh," she groaned, rolling out of her bed. For a split second she contemplated not answering it, just staying in her warm bed. She knew, though, if she did not get it, he would probably bust the door down. Maybe even set it on fire to make a point. He seemed like the type to light things on fire for fun.

As soon as she opened the front door, those intense blue eyes scanned over her body as if looking for some unseen disease. "What's wrong with you?" He barked at her, one hand still on the doorframe.

"What?" She blinked owlishly.

"You said you don't feel good." He gestured towards her, his gaze still searching. "What's wrong?"

"Um, it's nothing. Just cramps. It's better now."

"You sure? It's nothing worse?"

She was touched by his concern, the way his last questions were said in a breath of relief as if actually worried about her health. "Yeah, happens every month. I'm fine."

"Ok, good. Get changed, Hvitty and I are going to see a movie. I want you to come with us."

"Ivar, you should hang out with your brother…."

"I fucking live with him. He's fine with it. Go change."

She sighed, knowing by now there was no way she was making it back to her warm cocoon and Downton Abbey. Besides, she had missed him while he was gone and found herself wanting to spend time with him. Not that she wanted him to know that, it would only inflate his ego. "I'll only agree to come with you on two conditions."

"Fucking what?" He growled, though she could see the amusement in his eyes.

"First, I'm wearing my comfy clothes." She waved her hand at the pair of soft, black leggings she wore and the thin, slouchy sweater with the word 'beautiful' printed on it. "Second, and this is the most important condition, you have to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate."

He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on his lips. "If that's all, princess…."

"Oh, give me a minute. I'll think of something else… and it's not princess. It's m'lady."

"Shut up. Get your shit. I'll meet you at the car."

She laughed as she raced up to her room to grab her purse, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. The only addition was to throw on a zip up jacket that was a size too big on her. She always found movie theaters too cold to be fully comfortable without a jacket.

The vehicle waiting for her this time was a luxury SUV. She stopped for a moment in the driveway, unsure what to do. She wondered what the neighbors would think of her getting picked up in this and how many knew Lothbroks were sitting in it. Hopefully no one was paying attention. The one of the back doors opened so she headed that way. Ivar slid over and she followed him into the vehicle, closing the door behind her.

"Took you fucking long enough, m'lady."

She smirked at the nickname. "Well, you did just show up at my door and told me we were going to see a movie. At least the other times you gave me a heads up to be ready."

"Ivar, you said you text her we were coming." A man she had not noticed said. He sat across on the bench seat facing them, watching her curiously. It was now Kari noticed how both Ivar and the guy were dressed casually, both in jeans and t-shirts, though Ivar had a light jacket on also.

"She said she wasn't doing anything."

The flaxen-haired man sighed, before reaching his hand out. "Hi, I'm Hvitserk. This idiot's older brother."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Kari." She took his hand, but instead of shaking it like she expected, he turned it over and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. When he released it, he gave her a quick, flirty wink and leaned back in his seat.

Startled by his bold action, she looked at Ivar, unsure how to respond. What was with these Lothbroks and their unabashed flirting?

He had his eyes narrowed at his brother, teeth practically grinding. "Fucking touch her again." He snarled.

Hvitserk chuckled, a smug look on his boyish face. "Relax, brother. I know you don't share…. even if you're just friends." Either he was purposefully antagonizing his younger brother or did not notice the anger seething off of him.

Ivar started to lean forward but Kari wrapped her arms around his, pulling him into her. She was not about to watch a fight go down between the two. "Didn't you just get back from your trip? I thought you'd be home resting." She quickly asked, trying to distract.

After a long moment of the brothers staring at each other, Ivar with a glare and Hvitserk looking amused, the raven-haired brother leaned back. He turned his head to look at her as he answered. "You said you wanted to see me earlier, and going to see a movie isn't strenuous."

"Everything involving you is strenuous."

As soon as she muttered the words, she wished she could take them back.

A devilish grin spread across his face, those blue eyes dancing with something mischievous and forbidden. "I can show you strenuous." He shifted to hover over her, lips dangerously close to hers. "All. Night. Long." He whispered, one hand leaving a trail of fire as it slid from her thigh up to the curve of her breast. A shiver ran down her spine at the low, hungry tone and the naked want in his gaze. "You'll be begging for more of me…. to destroy that pussy and leave you completely undone and hoarse from screaming my name." His tongue flicked at her earlobe, a choked gasp leaving her mouth at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered shut on their own accord, the knot in her core tightening painfully. She both hated and loved what his touch did to her, how it gave her a taste of pleasure otherwise unknown. His nose traced her jawline as he spoke again, tone filthy, making her core ache. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, kattungen?"

She gulped, her voice coming out far more timid and needy than she wanted. "That's...um, that's nice."

Hvitserk's laughter broke the smoldering tension. Her blue-green eyes blinked rapidly as if wakening from a dream, darting to stare at the older brother before returning to the one who still lingered over her, his presence alone keeping her pinned to her seat.

"En dag, søte Kari, blir du min." Ivar whispered into her ear, then kissed her temple tenderly. After he leaned back, legs splayed out and arms across the back of the seat. A rapid conversation in that foreign language started, Hvitserk saying something that had Ivar snarking back and rolling his eyes.

The whole time, Kari focused on slowing down her breathing and trying to tamper down the warmth radiating from her core. There was no denying it, Ivar did something to her on a primal level. Her body wanted him. Even her mind wanted him. When he directed that sensual, seductive side at her, she melted like an ice cube in June. Her panties were testimony to that. Thankfully, he did not turn that powerful ability onto her frequently. She doubted they would remain 'just friends' for long if he did.

Suddenly, Ivar tugged on the sleeve of her fleece jacket, drawing her from her thoughts. "What is that?"

"Um… a jacket?"

He hummed then glanced over at his brother. "Sigurd had the same one, doesn't he, Hvitty?"

"I think so." Hvitserk ran a hand over his braids, a smile on his lips. "Didn't you set it on fire?"

Ivar waved off the question, still scrutinizing her jacket. "Whose is it?"

"Mine now." She replied, wondering what he was getting at.

"Whose was it?"

"A guy friend. He lent it to me years ago and I never gave it back."

"He's in England?"

"Yeah…"

He grunted, rubbing a hand over his mouth for a moment. "Take it off."

"Wha…. what?" She sputtered.

"Take it off. I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes."

"Ivar, this is stupid. Plus, I always get cold in movie theaters. That's why I brought it in the first place."

With a deep scowl, he tugged off his own gray, soft shell jacket. When he saw she was not moving, he tugged on her sleeve roughly. She huffed but gave in, not willing to fight him over something so childish. She slipped the fleece jacket off and placed it in her lap. Before she could stop him, Ivar snatched the jacket out of her lap and threw it on the seat to his other side. He dropped his jacket in her lap then leaned back, watching her with a serious expression. This was one of those times she wondered why she put up with him. Who cared where the origins of her clothes came from? It was comfy. Sure, it had some sentimental value but it was a nice, warm jacket.

Quickly, she slipped his gray jacket on…. and was immediately hit with his scent. A salacious side of her wondered if he would let her keep it. He always smelled incredible and having his jacket now wrapped around her, enveloping her in that…. her libido definitely woke up, begging for attention. Especially after the tease he just bestowed upon her.

"Happy?" She asked flippantly, smoothing the gray jacket down over her and trying not to be obvious with her sniffing it.

He grinned. "You look better in my clothes."

"Ugh. Is he always like this?" She turned to Hvitserk.

"I wouldn't know. He's never asked me to take my clothes off. But if you did, I'd happily oblige." He playfully winked at her.

She groaned. "You both are unbelievable. No wonder you're brothers." She looked at Ivar beside her. "Can I have my jacket back?"

He raised a single eyebrow as if surprised by her question. After a second of mutual staring, he slid over and opened the window, maintaining pointed eye contact the whole time. Before she could process what he was going to do, he balled up her jacket and threw it out the open window. Without a word, he rolled the window back up and slid over to her side again.

"What jacket?" He questioned impishly.

She stared open-mouthed at him. "Was…. was that really necessary? Gods! Why did you do that?"

"I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes." He shrugged. "If it's that big of a problem, I'll buy you some new clothes."

"That's not…. that's not the point! You can't just get rid of something of mine without my permission!"

"But it wasn't yours, it was some guy friend's."

She covered my face with her hands. Why should she expect anything different from Ivar? He had a vendetta against her clothes. With a sigh, she scooted away from him. "I feel like we need to make a list of things that are not ok for you to do."

"I'm not following some fucking list."

"Alright, I'll stop wearing clothes that belong to someone else if you promise not to throw away my clothes without my permission."

He yanked on her arm until she was at his side again, despite her half-hearted attempt for space. "You can wear my clothes anytime, especially if I can take them off of you."

"Ivar, I'm serious."

He nuzzled the crook of her neck, making her squirm. Sweetly, he pressed a kiss to her neck before leaning back. "Fine." He muttered, tucking her into his side.

She glanced over at Hvitserk, having momentarily forgotten his presence. A broad smile covered his face, highlighting his handsome features.

"I like her." He declared, meeting his brother's eye with a nod. Next he looked at her, cocking his head to the side. "What are you doing with his sorry ass?"

That earned a low growl from the youngest Lothbrok, causing Kari to jump faintly and Hvitserk's smile to grow.

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice. He showed up at my work the first time." She answered honestly, though she mostly did it to tease Ivar.

Hvitserk threw his head back with a groan before narrowing his eyes at his brother. "I told you not to stalk her!"

"What the fuck is this? Gang up on Ivar day? She wouldn't have gone out with me otherwise and afterward she said she had fun, so it's not a big deal."

Hvitserk's brown eyes met her blue-green ones with true sympathy in them. "I'm sorry, Kari. I would say he isn't normally like this but I'm guessing you know that's a damn lie by now."

She giggled, "Yeah, I do. Thank you though."

"You know, we could always ditch him and go to the movie just us."

"Oh yeah?" She tapped her chin, pretending to think the offer over. "That sounds like fun. Ivar did promise to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate though. It'd be a hard sell to pass that offer up."

"I'm sure I can come up with something." He wiggled his blond eyebrows, smiling again.

"Shut the fuck up, both of you."

Kari laughed at the look on Ivar's face. Peering up at him, she changed the subject. "What movie are we seeing?"

"Ask your new friend over there."

"Come on, Ivy. You know we're just fucking with you." Hvitserk sighed.

Ivar grumbled, looking out the window and ignoring both of them.

Hvitserk answered her question. "That new horror movie."

"Oh ok." She hoped she sounded confident but kind of wished she had known before coming. Horror movies were not her thing. As a child, she had watched 'IT' at a sleepover and decided then that purposefully being scared was something she could do without. Though knowing Ivar, he would have laughed and pushed her out the door, saying something about how she needed to watch better shit than she normally did. Maybe this one would be more action-based than real horror. She could only hope.

Thankfully, they pulled up at the movie theater soon after. The driver dropped the three off at the door, driving off after to go park and wait.

"Ivar, hold on." She tugged on his arm, forcing him to slow his steps instead of walking ahead of the other two. "Give us a minute, Hvitserk."

The blond brother gave her a quick nod. "I'll go buy some snacks."

After he walked away, she tried to meet Ivar's gaze, though he pointedly stared over her shoulder. "Hey, we're just teasing. I'm sorry if we pushed it too far. I'm really happy you asked me to come out with you and your brother. It's been years since I've gone out to the movies."

He remained stubbornly sullen, continuing to stare just over her shoulder as if her presence was a nuisance.

With a sigh, she shifted closer, taking the initiative to wrap her arms loosely around his waist. Something she had noticed during the times they had hung out was he liked touching her, not always sexually, but just casual, intimate touches. A stray thought of him being touch-starved crossed her mind.

"I also really like your jacket, it's soft and it smells like you." She softly said, peeking up at him, suddenly nervous about her forwardness.

"Yeah?" He breathed out, placing his arms around her and tugging her closer. In just that movement, she could feel the hostility drain out of him, the hard tension in his muscles easing away into a softness she was beginning to doubt many people were allowed to see.

"Since you threw my other one away, can I keep this one?" She teased, lips curling up at the edges. If he said no, she was inclined to steal it anyway. For emotional damages, of course, not because it smelled good.

"Fuck, yes, kitten." He nuzzled her neck, making her squirm in his arms and giggle at the sensation. After a moment, still chuckling, he kissed her neck then laid his forehead against hers. When he spoke, it was with a quiet hint of vulnerability, his voice just above a murmur. "You really are happy to be out with me?"

"I am." She confirmed with eyes closed, soaking in the heat from his body against hers. This moment felt so strangely intimate that she struggled between prolonging it or tearing herself away. It was in these touches, she found her resolve wavering, a longing rising within her to give in. His arms around her, just holding her, their foreheads pressed together as if grounding one another. It was euphoric and dangerous.

He broke the silence between them, tone muffled as if regretting speaking up. "We should go in; the movie is going to start soon."

"Ok. Hvitserk will probably come looking for us if we don't."

"Ah, fuck. He will."

They untangled, but as she moved to step away, he snaked his arm around her waist, tugging her next to him. When she glanced up at him, he only looked down at her in wide-eyed, mock innocence. She rolled her eyes but giggled. He was like a puppy afraid to let go of his new toy.

As they started towards the doors, she finally paid more attention to his gait. Each step was stiff but powerful. One more than one occasion she ogled him and his swagger that seemed to scream predator, a dark and deadly thing meanwhile also being so enticing. She wondered how he managed so well without his cane but decided not to bring it up.

Once they passed through the door, Ivar slowed down, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Shit. I've got to take this. Go wait with Hvitty. Oh, here." He pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. "Go buy all that chocolate I promised you and drinks for us."

Normally she would protest, saying she could buy her own stuff. This time she had full intentions of spending his money on chocolate. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Are you on the menu?"

"Gods, unbelievable!" She laughed though, watching him smile genuinely. After an arrogant wink, he stepped away, bringing his phone to his ear and speaking rapidly in a foreign language. She scurried over to Hvitserk, who stood near the confessions counter.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she glanced over her shoulder at Ivar quickly, "he just got a phone call he said he had to take."

Hvitserk hummed, watching Ivar across the lobby with a peculiar expression.

While they waited, she ordered her snacks and the drinks for both of them. Though her doubts rapidly spun out of control as she realized she did not know what Ivar would like or want. With a pleading look thrown at him, Hvitserk gave in with a chuckle. Together they picked out snacks and drinks that would have the youngest Lothbrok's approval. Once done, they gathered their stuff and moved over to an open, standing table to continue waiting.

"While Ivar is busy, I wanted to talk to you."

"Ah, sure." She felt a tendril of dread grow in her belly. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation with such an inauspicious beginning.

"I know Ivar can be a lot, closer to fucking insane, and not many people can tolerate him." He looked down at her with brown eyes that seemed to see more than they let on. "But you're good for him. You don't take his bullshit. Fuck, he even listens to you. I could count on one hand how many people Ivar actually listens to. What makes you different?"

"I don't know. I'm just…. I don't know." She stared down at her chipped, teal fingernails, unable to meet his eyes now.

"Well whatever you are, we've already noticed a difference since you two started talking. He's not as angry, he doesn't just hole up in his room as often."

"That's good."

"Mmmm…. Ivar is my brother and I love him. But I also know his temper can get the better of him and when he is on a rampage, nothing can fucking stop him. He is easily jealous and possessive of things he deems his own…. and he clearly had staked a claim on you."

"But…. we're just friends."

"Not to him." He huffed, running a hand over his braids. After checking to make sure his brother was still on the phone, he continued, lowering his voice even more. "You seem like a nice girl so I'll only say this once. Be careful of what promises you make to him…. and if he ever does something to harm you or scare you, I want you to call me. I'll do what I can to protect you. Alright?"

She nodded, unnerved by his warning. Sure, she knew about the Lothbrok reputation. Yet this was the first time someone point blank warned her with true understanding. She was unsure if she should appreciate the warning or be terrified that he thought Ivar could hurt her.

"Give me your phone."

Silently, she handed it over. He plugged his number in and called himself. With a satisfied nod, he gave it back to her.

"Good, don't ever hesitate to call me. Besides, if my brother has his way, none of us would ever meet you. My other brothers want to meet the girl who has Ivar wrapped around her finger already." He winked at her, making her blush.

"Hvitty, stop flirting with her!"

The flaxen-haired brother grinned, as he watched his brother approach. "I'm not. Just telling her the others want to meet her."

"Fuck no." Ivar growled, coming to stand between the two.

"I'd love to meet your brothers." She commented lightly. "After hearing you talk about them, it'd be nice."

"Awww, Ivy, you talk about us?" Hvitserk teased, nudged his shoulder with his own.

"Not you, asshole."

Hvitserk laughed, pressing his forehead swiftly to Ivar's. "Come on, the movie has probably started."

Ivar and Kari followed behind Hvitserk, as he led them to the correct auditorium. Along the way, she handed Ivar a couple of the boxes of candy she bought and the drink picked out for him.

"How much fucking candy did you buy?" He grumbled, eyeing the boxes suspiciously.

"Enough. If you ask nicely, I might share." She quipped. "I even bought Heksehyl for both of us. Hvitserk said it's your favorite…. and I also got Dumle. Oh, and Guld Barre!"

"I did promise you chocolate."

She giggled. "Yes, you did."

The three of them found the auditorium and took seats off to the side. Ivar sat in the middle with Kari on his right and Hvitserk on his left. The movie had just started as they sat down, the lights and noise minimal. Though apprehensive about the movie, Kari found herself smiling at just the nostalgic feeling being here evoked. There was something so simple yet profound at being with friends, eating sweets and watching the silver screen. Let alone the darkness of the theater and the nearby munching of popcorn by others and the occasion sound of people talking. She missed this. So, she endowed to enjoy every part of this. Quietly eating her chocolates, she kept her gaze on the screen.

After some time, Kari felt a large hand on her upper thigh, inching slowly higher and higher. Jolting at the sudden feeling, she grabbed it, trying to stop its further ascent. Immediately, Ivar flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers. She tried to half-heartedly tug out of it, but he maintained a vice-like grip on her hand. In an attempt to glare at him, she swiveled in her seat to gain his attention. Only for him to remain solely focused on the screen. Rolling her eyes, she gave in, shifting back to continue watching the movie. Their fingers remained entangled.

Eventually, the chocolate lay forgotten in her lap as the images on the screen became more disturbing and graphic. A few chuckles came from Ivar and Hvitserk and whispered comments made between them. Once someone in the theater screamed as a person on the screen was suddenly killed. The abrupt sound made Kari jump, squeezing Ivar's hand. He laughed, but squeezed her hand back. Not long after, she gave up on watching the movie and just tucked her face against his shoulder. Horror movies were never her thing, the idea of purposefully being scared never appealed to her. And this movie had a thing for people being eaten alive. Not something she wanted imprinted into her brain. The thought crossed her mind that Ivar orchestrated this on purpose, since he seemed to be fully enjoying her cuddling into him. As if without concern, his head lay on top of hers, continuing to hold her hand. If she was not so concerned about having nightmares and trying to block out the hair-raising screams, she might have liked the cuddling. In this instance though, if he moved, she was going to punch him.

Once the movie ended, Ivar and Hvitserk argued about the movie- how some of the people should have died or about the graphics of the terrifying creatures. They both became more and more animated as the three of them walked out of the movie theater and towards the waiting SUV.

"What did you think, Kari?" Hvitserk asked, taking his seat across from the others, once they all piled in.

"She was scared." Ivar answered, leaning back, his arm on the back of the seat and behind her.

"That creature was eating that girl's brain while she was still alive! I did not want to see that! I'm going to have nightmares."

Smirking, Ivar tilted closer, invading her personal space. "Want me to stay with you? I'll keep you safe…. and make sure you dream of other more, pleasurable, things."

"No, you'd probably try to scare me on purpose." She accused, pushing his body away from her with a pout.

"Well, thanks for seeing it with us." Hvitserk spoke up. "Gods, Bjorn would love it. We'll have to tell him."

The youngest brother nodded before turning back to the brunette by his side. "You coming out with us for drinks now? We always get drinks after."

"No, I can't. I have to open tomorrow. I need to sleep."

"Come on, it'll be fine."

"No. I'll be getting up at 5:30. That's in like…. six hours." This was one thing she was not going to give into. He had dragged her from her bed already once tonight. He was not about to make her lose out on anymore sleep. Not everyone was able to sleep all morning like certain people.

"Next time," Hvitserk said with a shrug, a grin on his face as if amused by the interaction across from him. "I'm sure we can all go out again soon. Right, Ivy?"

Ivar snorted, "Fine. We'll drop you off."

A discussion about the movie and comparing it to others swiftly captured the two brothers' attention. Finding herself growing tired, Kari just leaned back and listened, her head resting on the back of the seat, and consequently, Ivar's arm. It was different and refreshing seeing him interact with someone he clearly trusted and cared about. His guard was down and even if some of his comments sounded more like sharp barbs, it was said without true malice. The flaxen-haired brother took each verbal jab like water off a duck's back, either making a joke out of the comment or ignoring it. Throughout the interaction, the care and respect for one another was evident, even if on the surface level it appeared dysfunctional. A smile hinted on her lips as she listened to the brothers. She hoped this was not the last time she spent time with Hvitserk. Though his warning still rang in the back of her mind, she liked him. The whole ride back, Ivar kept his arm behind her, sporadically playing with the ends of her hair.

At their arrival to her townhouse, Hvitserk said his goodbye to her in the vehicle, surprising her with a swift hug and peck on the cheek. Her face must have been quite flushed if his laughter after meant anything. Ivar grumbled something at his brother in their foreign language as he pulled her out of the SUV. To her further surprise, Ivar walked her to her front door instead of staying with his brother.

"Thanks for inviting me out." She said honestly, once they reached the door.

"Next time we'll watch something you enjoy."

Before she could second guess herself, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. Instantly, his arms went around her, pulling her closer. While the hug at the movie theater was sweet and intimate, this hug carried a different tone. It was more urgent and passionate. Her face rested on his collarbone, allowing his scent to envelope her. He laid a soft kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there after. For a split second, she realized she never wanted to leave this moment. To be safe and warm and comforted and wanted. It was all she had ever hoped for. This was dangerous water they treaded in. With each intimate action, she could feel their friendship sailing closer and closer to the waters of something more. The gentle, easy waters of friendship would not be enough to maintain them.

With that thought in mind, she regretfully pulled back. "Goodnight." She murmured.

"God natt, kattunge."

"One of these days, you have to tell me what you're saying."

A devious smirk grew on his lips. "No, I think I like you being in suspense."

She laughed, shaking her head. They both hesitated to move, the air tense with something, as if both were waiting for the other to say or do something.

"Ok, bye." She finally said, opening her front door.

He nodded, taking a step back without removing his heated gaze off of her.

Shuddering at the feeling of his smoldering gaze, she let herself into the townhouse and made sure to lock the door behind her. Releasing a deep breath, she leaned her back against the door. What was it about him that tempted her so? He was bad news for her. Yet the more time she spent with him, the more she craved being with him.

Glancing down, she stared at his soft, gray jacket she still wore and wondered how symbolic this unintended action was.

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