#all within the last 10 mins of my shift. fuck all the way off

[princehatterene]

i’m sick of boomers bro

[cinnaminsvga]

Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie​ because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Sinking Friendships

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Car accident, hospital scenes/talk, small talk of religion (sorry it just felt right for the story), angst, fighting, typos

-Words: 5.6K

Author note: Sorry for the shit writing, it was so hard to write the car accident. Tried to make it as medically accurate as possible. Most knowledge derived from Grey’s Anatomy/WebMD. Sorry this chapter is long. Feel free to leave comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter. Every message I've received is so sweet thank you all.

*Anytime 3 dots/ellipses (…) its a sob/breath and a moment of reflection during dialogue.

Chapter 8: Sinking Friendships

Words: 5.6K

Sirens, flashing lights and screams were the only thing Henry remembered. It all happened so fast. One minute Henry and Rosie were laughing together getting lost in each other’s eyes and the next they were both unconscious awaiting their death.

There was no time for Henry to react in anyway. No swerves or movements were made to prevent the impact. A maroon truck had collided Roise’s side, jolting her entire body. Her door was dented beyond belief.

From the forceful impact caused their car skid on the pavement, wearing the paint job away, and crash into the street pole. Henry’s entire body screamed out in pain, his injuries weren’t as bad as Rosie’s though.

“Rosie? Rosie! Rosie!!” Henry called out, desperately wanting to hear her lovely voice. Panic and heartbreak ensued when he saw blood dripping down the side of her head.

Rosie wasn’t moving. How could she be full of life one minute and the next, not? Henry reached over and placed two fingers below her jaw searching for a pulse. He felt he was able to breathe once her felt her few and far between heartbeats, it was faint but it was still there.

“Darling, wake up. Rosie, wake up! Open your eyes for me.”

Henry could feel himself fading by the moment. He used his last breaths to tell the girl he loved he was sorry. Her life was hanging by a thread and in that moment Henry was utterly useless. Praying that she would wake and he would get to hold her again, as everything faded to black.

It had to be about 15 minutes. 15 minutes for an ambulance to arrive. 15 minutes that Henry and Rosie had been unconscious for. 15 minutes of complete stillness, as everyone outside the vehicle panicked. The witness had called 911 multiple times and the other driver was unconscious at his wheel.

After those brutal and possible life ending minutes, help finally arrived. They pulled Henry from the wreck, putting him on a gurney.

“Sir, can you hear me?” called out the paramedic. “Yes. My girlfriend, help her please,” Henry was pleading for his life. How could he be so careless, it was only an accident? “Sir, just lay back. Let us take care of you,” the paramedic uttered, putting her hand on his shoulder to hold him down.

“No. I need to make sure she is okay.”

“Sir, you need to restrain yourself. The other paramedics have got her.”

“ROSIE! Just please let me know if she is okay,” screamed Henry.

“Sedate him please. I’ll go check on the girl,” said the paramedic. Henry faded into a deep sleep a moment later.

“Hey, how’s the girl? Her boyfriend won’t stop asking,” asked the paramedic to the one attending to Rosie. “Unresponsive. She has head trauma and a pulse, thank god,” he murmured. Henry was sent along with Rosie to Kingston Memorial hospital. The hospital was 20 mins away, so much can happen in that time.

Everyone else was sleeping soundly within the walls of the Holland Manor. It started to become a common theme that phone calls in the middle of the night usually meant someone was hurt. This time it was Harrison calling.

“Haz? It’s so late why are you calling?” You asked, jolting awake.

“There’s been an accident and Tom didn’t answer when I called. It’s Rosie and Henry. It sounded bad, Y/N.”

“Oh my god. I’ll see you there,” you responded, barely forming the words as tears started to fall.

“TOM WAKE UP!” you screamed, shaking him awake.

“What?… I’m up. I’m up.”

“There’s been accident.” No more words were said, they just hopped in the car and drove as fast as possible. Tom knuckles grew white clutching around the steering wheel. He couldn’t even begin to fathom a world with his Rosie in it. Harrison was already there, pacing in the waiting room.

“Haz. Where is she?” you said, tears begging to fall.

“I don’t know they won’t tell me anything because I’m not family,” Harrison answered.

“Fuck that, you are our family. How’s Henry?” Tom exclaimed.

“He’s ok. Just a minor concussion and dislocated shoulder, he’s in there right now. They are putting his shoulder back in its socket. He was really lucky but, I am worried about Rosie.” Haz said, just as a doctor dressed in surgical scrubs approached them.

“Are you here for Rosie Holland?” asked the doctor, Tom just nodded in response.

“Mr. and Mrs. Holland, I presume,” continued the doctor

“Yes, that’s us,” Tom replied, clasping your hand in his. He tried to put on a brave face for his wife. You couldn’t both be a mess.

“Ok, Rosie is still in surgery. With extensive injuries like hers we like to keep the family updated as much as possible. Your daughter was the nearest point of impact. She came in with a puncture wound to the abdomen, a severe concussion, massive internal bleeding, many cuts caused by broken glass and severe trauma to her head.”

“Will she be okay?” you asked, accidentally interrupting the doctor.

“Let him finish darling,” Tom said, his grip on her hand tightening.

“It is still too early to know. I have to get back.”

“Alright Doctor, thank you,” Tom acknowledged. You just fell into Tom’s arms, letting all the tears you were holding back fall. You broke into a fit of sobs in his embrace.

“Tom, I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s our baby,” you whimpered, your tears staining his t-shirt

“Shh, darling. She’ll pull through. Remember she is just like her strong mother.”Tom whispered, rubbing a soothing hand over your back.

“Have you gotten in touch with Parker?” Asked Tom as he continued to comfort you.

“No, I’ve been trying. Leaving message after message… Why fuck isn’t he picking up?” yelled Haz. Just then, Henry had walked up, sporting a cloth sling His heart nearly broke as he saw you crying your eyes out buried in Tom’s arms.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t tell me she didn’t make it.” Henry cried as his knees started to buckle at the thought of losing Rosie.

“Henry no, she’s still in surgery. Hey, come here.” Harrison said trying to calm down his son.

“Henry, what the happened?” Tom asked, scared for his daughters life.

“What were you doing with Rosie anyway? It’s late.” Tom questioned again after Henry stood silent, growing louder.

“Hey, Tom. Back off,” Harrison said, standing in front of Tom.

“No. I want to know the reason why my daughter is in there fighting for her god damm life.” Tom screamed. Henry was like a deer caught in headlights. He couldn’t lie his way out of this one. His eyes just shifted between Tom, you and his dad.

“A truck hit Rosie’s side when I was driving, I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Henry cried, barely able to get the words out.

“Son, we know it was an accident. It wasn’t your fault,” Harrison said, comforting Henry.

“Where? Where were you guys?” Tom pestered on.

“Umm, we were on our way back from… from a date. We are dating.” Henry muttered, his eyes glued to the floor.

“What? Y/N did you know about this?” Tom asked, ready to throw hands.

“Yes, Tom,” you murmured, avoiding Tom’s disappointed glare.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Tom screeched.

“And for you. Who the fuck said you could date my daughter?” Tom bellowed, pointing his finger at the poor boy.

“I did kind of give them permission by keeping their secret. In your own time frame though you were supposed to ask Tom,” you muttered, bouncing between Henry and Tom.

“Wait. For how long? For how fucking long?” Tom cursed.

“2 months.” Henry whispered.

“2 months. 2 fucking months. You were lying to me?” Tom screamed, he was livid at you.

“I don’t want you dating her,” Tom growled with an unchanging expression.

“I’m sorry, sir. What?” Henry asked, dumbfounded by Tom’s response.

“Tom, what?” Haz faltered.

“Tom don’t do this, he is a good kid,” you begged.

“Break up with my daughter or there will be hell to pay,” Tom declared and with that he walked away.

“Tom, you can’t do that to them,” you yelled after Tom.

“Really Y/N watch me” Tom said, ignoring his family. His heart had been broken too many times tonight. First when he heard about the accident, another when he had learned of Rosie’s injuries and another when he found out that you had been lying to him. His mind needed to be on one person right now, Rosie.

Tom managed to cool off, but immediately changed the subject anytime you would start to apologize. He didn’t have the energy to focus or listen, all he cared about was Rosie. Parker had showed up 10 mins later, he was off doing god knows what.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Tom yelled, as he saw Parker come through the sliding doors.

“Sorry. I just got your message. Is she okay?” Parker explained.

“We don’t know she is still in surgery,” you whispered, trying to hold back tears.

“What I went out for a bit and shut my phone off. What’s the big deal?” Parker asked.

“The big deal is that I didn’t know where you were. I couldn’t get in touch you. Rosie was in a car accident and I couldn’t call you,” screamed Tom, still angry from the conversation that just perspired

“And Henry?” Parker question, ignoring Tom’s scolding.

“He’s ok. Haz is with him right now, they went to get some coffee,” you informed him.

“Are you okay, mom?” Parker asked, remembering the conversation they had the night before.

“I’ve been better. Just glad you are here,” you said, bringing him into a warm embrace. As they all stood together as a family, Rosie’s doctor came to update them.

“She is out of surgery and stable. Her heart did stop and we were able to resuscitate her, she’s in the ICU now…”

“Can we see her?” Tom asked, interrupting the doctor. A huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders, his baby girl was going to be okay.

“Yes, but you need to know something. Her brain started to swell in surgery so we had to put her in a medically induced coma to bring down the swelling. We don’t know when she will wake up or if she will at all,” explained the doctor.

All the Hollands stood like statues, unable to process the news. You felt as though you had been punched in the stomach, you wouldn’t be able to handle losing your baby girl.

Minutes, hours and days had melded together. It had been 6 days since the accident and Rosie was still the same, laying unconscious in a hospital bed hooked up to various machines. All of you stayed at the hospital expect for Harrison and Henry. Harrison was running the mob for Tom, for the time being.

You refused to leave her side, spending every waking and sleeping hour right beside her. Seeing your daughter like this was killing you. You weren’t getting any sleep and your hair started thinning.

Rosie looked pale and lifeless, the only thing guaranteeing she was alive was the incessant heart monitor. Her bruises had started to heal, changing from a vibrant purple to an opaque yellow. Everyone prayed she would wake up.

Henry tried to visit everyday but Tom wouldn’t allow it. He was still furious his daughter was dating him and everyone else knew about it except him. Tom’s heart ached for Rosie to wake up and be his funny, sassy, brave girl once again. Tom, however couldn’t stand how the waiting was making you feel.

“Darling. Wake up!” Tom whispered, gently shaking you.

“What? Did something happen? Is Rosie ok?” You exasperated, jolting out of your sleep and trying to catch your breath.

“No, she’s fine. It has just been a while since you had gone home and cleaned up. It might do you some good, baby,” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, I can’t leave her,” you whispered.

“Y/N, it’s ok. Let me take you home and Parker will be here in case anything were to happen,” Tom explained.

You were hesitant at first but eventually agreed, it had been awhile since you had showered or had a decent meal. Living off of the same sweatshirt and hospital cafeteria snacks for the past couple days. All your energy had been put into watching Rosie.

While Tom took you home, Parker was tasked with watching his sister. As kids they were both active and had gotten hurt, only most ever being a broken bone, never a life or death situation. Not only was Rosie Parker’s sister, but she was his twin.

His built in best friend. There had never been a time where he didn’t know her, maybe the first 5 mins of his life, but Rosie soon followed. Sure they fought and argued like all siblings do, but they couldn’t imagine their life without each other. He needed her sarcastic comments and infectious laughter to brighten his day. He needed her warm, slightly awkward hugs and her bitchy attitude once in a while. Parker didn’t know what he’d do without her.

“Rosie, I don’t know if you can hear me but mom is a mess, dad has barely said to word and everyone just needs you to wake up. I need you to wake up…. We all do, especially Henry,” Parker whispered.

“God, he secretly loves you. He hasn’t had the balls to tell you yet, but if that it is what you need to wake up, then do it….Let that be it…. That he loves you, Rosie…. He loves you.”

“I know what it is like to lose someone you love. Charlotte didn’t have a choice, but you do. You can fight and come back to us…. Come back to Henry. He needs you. He calls me every night asking if you had woken up yet. Dad banned him from visiting the hospital. Really fucked that one up didn’t you Roo…. You should’ve told him about you and Henry, but that’s beside the point…. The point is let today or tomorrow or next week be the day I tell him you did…. Just promise me you will wake up ok. I know I don’t say it often but I love you.” Parker got everything he needed to say off his chest. Tears had managed to escape from his eyes as he held her hand. Henry was standing in the doorway, when Parker poured his heart out.

“Hey mate. Mind if I have a minute with my girl?” Henry spoke.

“Not at all. Perfect timing, my parents just left,” Parker said, getting up from his crouched position.

“Yeah, I know. I was parked in the parking lot, waiting for them to leave.”

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Oh, none. None what so ever.”

“So practically all of it?” Parker said in response.

“Yeah,” Henry just nodded along.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Parker said as left the room.

Now it was just Henry and Rosie.

Tom had forbidden Henry from seeing her, he hasn’t even gotten to hold her hand. Henry tried to hold back tears as he saw the girl he loved looking half-dead. Her skin had lost its color and her necklace, the one he had given her, was stained with blood sitting in a bag on her bedside.

“Hey Roo. I’ve missed you…. Life hasn’t been the same these past few days. I’ve missed all your good night and good morning texts and your smile.” Henry started.

“Everyone wants you to wake up. They need you to wake up. Can you just open your eyes and flash that smile for me? I need it and I need you…. Rosie,… here it goes,… I love you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you never knowing I love you. So there it is, I love you.”

“I love everything about you…. Your eyes, your laugh, even that weird snort you do. I love you and that has to be enough. It has to be enough for you to wake up and come back to me…. Don’t just do it for me, do it for Parker and your dad and your mom. They have all been losing their minds without you.”

“Rosie, please baby. I love you and that has to be enough,” Henry concluded as tears streaked his face. He moved to press a chaste kiss to her forehead when all of a sudden machines starting going off and beeping left and right.

“Rosie? Rosie stay with me!” Henry didn’t know what was happening. All he knew as that she was still alive and prayed to god he wouldn’t hear her flatlining.

Rosie’s body started to jerk and shake, involuntary. The room filled with nurses and doctors, rolling Rosie on to her side. Her muscles spasming everywhere.

“Sir, you need to leave,” said the nurse, prying Henry away from Rosie.

“No, please let me stay with her,” Henry cried, refusing to avert his eyes from Rosie.

“You need to leave. Let us help her.”

Henry stood crying, peering through the glass doors at the love his life slipping before his very eyes. Her seizure only lasted about 8 minutes but, minutes bleed to hours as tears refused to stop.

“Henry? What happened?” Parker said, running up to Henry crouched on the floor with his knees to his chest and head buried.

“I don’t know. They forced me to leave. Her body started shaking violently, I don’t know what happened,” Henry sniffled, titling his head up. His eyes were beet red and his face was riddled with tears. Parker just stood there dumbfounded. He only left for 10 minutes to get some water. How could so much go wrong in that time.

“Young man, are your parents here,” asked the doctor as everyone came out of Rosie’s room.

“No, they went home to grab some things. Why?… Is she dead?” Parker questioning, pulling at the roots of his hair.

“No, she’s alive, but we can’t share any further information till they get here,” explained the doctor. Parker just nodded in response and Henry was able to breath again, exhaling the breath he was unaware he was holding.

Parker was about to make the call he dreaded. This was the entire reason you refused to leave, in case anything were to happen.

“Parker, what’s up. Is Rosie okay?” Tom said as he answered the Parker’s call.

“Dad, no, you need to get to the hospital. Something happened with Rosie but, they won’t tell me anything,” Parker said, his voice wavering.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right there,” Tom said, hanging up the phone. He had been refusing the chance to break down, he felt as though he had to be strong for everyone else.

“Y/N! Y/N!!” Tom screamed through the house. The one time Tom tries to do something good everything gets screwed up.

“Tom, what?” You exclaimed, startled by his screams

“Something happened with Rosie,” Tom said, a fews tears dripped down his face.

“What? No. No, no, no. I wasn’t there. I’m her mom and I wasn’t there. Why the fuck did you make me leave?” You cried, feeling like a terrible mother. You never should’ve left.

“I’m sorry. Be mad at me later, let’s just go,” Tom said, grabbing his car keys.

Tom’s reckless driving was not the problem at the moment, you just need to be there for Rosie. At the hospital, Tom barely parked properly before they were running through the halls. He came upon Parker in the waiting room, looking disheveled as fuck. His eyes were puffy eyes and hair stood up, he could tell his son was tugging on it in frustration.

Tom needed something to take his mind off Rosie. He needed to punch something or beat someone up or even just take his angry out with words.

“Parker, what happened? Is she okay?” You said, scared for Rosie’s life.

“I don’t know. No one has come out of her room,” Parker explained and you just nodded in response, trying not to cry again.

“Parker, what the fuck is Henry doing in here?” Tom demanded.

“Umm,” Parker mumbled.

“I’m sorry sir, I needed to see her,” Henry said profusely, apologizing

“I don’t care what fuck you needed to do. You are the reason she is dying. You were the one driving,” Tom screamed.

“Tom it was an accident,” you said, trying to reassure yourself in the process.

“Y/N I don’t understand how you can take his side when he almost killed our baby girl.”

“Like, I said it was an accident!” you explained.

“Nurse! Nurse!” Tom yelled.

“Yes, sir. Do you need the doctor?” asked the nurse, worried someone was bleeding.

“No. I want to know who the fuck let this boy in here.” Tom thundered.

“I don’t know sir, I’m so sorry. This won’t happen again,” she explained.

“Tom he can stay. If he is telling the truth about loving Rosie this concerns him as much as it concern us,” you said. This must be killing Henry like it was to you.

“No, he fucking can’t. Now get out, before I have you escorted out of here in a body bag,” Tom threatened.

“Alright, I’ll go. Just please, tell me if she wakes up,” Henry pleaded, slowly walking away. He wasn’t going to go home, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave, not when Rosie was still in that state.

They all saw the doctor come out of the room and quickly cornered him. A grim expression draped across his face created uneasiness in everyone.

“I’m Y/N Holland, I’m her mother. What happened? I just left for twenty minutes,” you asked, tears streaming down your face as you barged in the room.

“We put her on a ventilator, the seizure was caused by lack of oxygen to her brain,” the doctor said.

“I’m sorry, what? She had a seizure?” Tom said, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Yes. Her brain function has remained unchanged for several days now. In my expert opinion, her outlook isn’t very good. I would prepare yourselves. We can keep her comfortable if you would like or we can arrange her to be moved to a facility where she will possibly heal in the future,” explained the doctor.

“What are you saying? She’s brain dead?” asked Parker chiming in.

“It’s too still early to give a definitive diagnosis, but most likely, yes. I’m sorry for your loss.” The doctor said, exiting the room. You wanted to die right in that moment. A piece of you died the second those words slipped out, you were inconsolable.

“Y/N. Baby, come here,” Tom whispered. Trying to reach out for you, his broken wife.

“Don’t fucking touch me. I should’ve never let you convince me to leave,” you cried.

The guilt was enormous for everything. You were the one who let Rosie and Henry date, without that they would have never been driving together. Never gotten in the accident, you couldn’t help but feel responsible.

It was always the same feeling, you felt walking into Rosie’s hospital room. The feeling of drowning or being burned alive. It’s indescribable. A feeling felt by those who lose their children. You put them on this earth and for them to leave it before you was wrong.

“Rosie, I’m so sorry I left baby. I’m here now and I’m never leaving,” you said, combing your hand through her brown locks.

“But its okay if you need to. It’s okay. I’ll be alright, we all will be…. You can let go…. I love you so much sweetheart, don’t every forget how much mommy loves you…. You can rest now,” you said, moving to Rosie’s side to take her hand in yours. Seeing Rosie like this was tearing you apart from the seems.

It wasn’t long before all tears had put you to sleep. Tom had covered you up with a blanket. You talked to Rosie as though she could hear you. Maybe she could, maybe not but, you definitely wished she could. Tom hadn’t had the chance to break down like you. You needed him to be the strong one, but he was human too.

“Rosie, it’s dad. Everyone besides me has gotten the chance to talk to you, so here it goes,” Tom started.

“I know your mother said that is was ok to leave, but it is not. You hear me. Don’t you dare leave…. Rosie, darling you need to fight. Fight whatever it is that will bring you back to us. You are so much stronger than you lead on baby.”

“I love you so much, please come back to us…. I don’t know if your mother can take losing you. Also that boy you secretly hid from me. Once you wake up you are grounded. I don’t know why you fell for that scruffy looking kid but he needs you, baby. We all do,” Tom concluded. There was no easy fix to this problem. He couldn’t go out and torture somebody or beat them til they broke. Not even money could fix this. He felt completely and utterly useless.Tom reached out to the only thing that could help his daughter, God.

“Hey, god above, I don’t really have a name for you. You are just the one who watches over people, you could be from any religion. I don’t know,” Tom said, clasping his hand together as he spoke to the heavens above.

“I know we don’t talk often and I’m sorry for that and I’m sorry for the despicable acts I’ve committed but I need you help…. My daughter needs your help. She was in a car accident and she hasn’t woken up yet. She’s so young, she has her entire life ahead of her and I want her to experience it all…. I’d really like to walk her down the aisle someday. Can you just bring her back to me? That’s all I ask, just bring her back.”

“Thank you. Shit, I’m believe I’m supposed to say amen and I’m sorry for cursing a second ago. Just remember what we talked about, do this for her not me. God knows I don’t deserve it,” Tom said, ending his plea to the god or gods above.

Tom couldn’t of imagined better timing, with his speech, Rosie’s fingers started to twitch in his hand.

“Y/N wake up?” Tom yelled.

“What, I’m up. Is she ok?” You asked, confused by his outburst.

“Better than ok, her hand moved,” Tom explained.

“Oh my god, really? Parker go get the doctor,” you said, moving towards Rosie.

“Rosie?” Tom said as she started to stir.

“Rosie, baby. I’m here” you said, holding her hand. Rosie eyes fluttered open as she choked on the intubation tube, which gave her oxygen.

“Shh, you’re ok. You were in a car accident with Henry. You’re ok,” you said, softly. The look on Rosie’s face broke your heart. She looked so confused and overwhelmed all you wanted to do was hold her and never let go. Yes, she was a teenager but she will always be your baby girl.

Parker quickly brought the doctor in and he conducted a neurological exam. He removed the tube down her throat, allowing her to breath normally.

“Rosie, you’re awake. Don’t try to talk, it will feel weird for a while. I can get you something for the pain. I’m going to have you do a few tests. Blink once for yes and twice for no, ok?” The doctor explained. Rosie followed his instructions and blinked once. You and Tom were holding each other, praying Rosie didn’t have any brain damage.

“Follow the light for me please. Good. Squeeze my hand. Good grip… These are all amazing signs. Everything looks good. No neurological deficits, but I still would like to get an MRI for her. In the meantime, just rest. It’s going to feel weird as your brain has basically been sleeping for a week,” the doctor concluded, leaving everyone alone to rejoice.

“Mom?” Rosie said, her voice extremely hoarse.

“Yeah, honey. Take it easy,” you said. Words couldn’t describe how you were feeling, you got your daughter back.

“Where’s Henry?” Rosie croaked out.

“He’s ok Rosie, I believe he is outside. Would you like to see him?” You asked, much to Tom’s dismay. Rosie just nodded in response, trying to make everything seem less hazy.

“Rosie,” Henry said with a biggest smile on his face. Nothing could bring this boy down from cloud 9, she was ok. The love of his life was ok.

“Hi,” she said with a half-smile. That’s all she could must her up with her energy.

“Thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Henry said, kissing her forehead.

“We will give you two a minute,” you said, pulling Tom and Parker out of the room. Tom was giving you a bunch of harsh glares, he knew what you were doing. However, he too ecstatic that Rosie was awake to be mad at Henry.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Henry asked concerned.

“I’m okay. Henry, I have to tell you something,” Rosie responded.

“I love you…. Walking up in the hospital bed just made me realize who cares if it’s too soon or if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to tell you. I love you,” Rosie declared. This was his chance, break her heart and walk away, she didn’t deserve to be here in a hospital bed. Tom was right, Henry knew what he had to do.

“Rosie, I think we should break up,” Henry said, already feeling like he made the biggest mistake of his life.

“What, why? Did I do something wrong? I thought we were happy. Just yesterday you said you were falling in love me. What the fuck happened?” Rosie faltered, confused by everything.

“Rosie, it’s just not working,” Henry exclaimed with the lamest excuse.

“Fine. Leave,” she said, trying to not let tears fall.

“Roo, we can still be friends.”

“Don’t fucking say that to me. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Rosie screamed.

“Rosie, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to say something else but was cut off.

“Just get the fuck out. I’m serious, FUCKING LEAVE!!” she thundered as he left. Henry felt like literal shit and an asshole and a fucking idiot all at once. He had just broken the heart of the girl he loves. It was never supposed to happen this way.

“Henry? What’s wrong?” You asked as you saw Henry storm through the halls.

“Are you happy Tom? I did it,” Henry barked.

“Glad she’s awake. Y/N you should go in there, she needs you,” Henry exclaimed, before leaving for good this time.

“Tom, we need to talk about Rosie and Henry,” you said, furious at Tom and his decision to break them up.

“He’s gonna fucking break her heart and I won’t allow it,” Tom yelled.

“You can’t keep them apart and you already did that,” you said sternly, you couldn’t believe the nerve on your husband.

“Y/N end of fucking discussion. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. We don’t keep secrets from each other. For fucks sake, how fucking stupid are you? Letting our daughter whore around with that kid, just like you did,” he vociferated.

“Whore around like I did? Really? Why don’t you look in the fucking mirror?” You screamed, zero fucks were given.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom barked.

“I know about you and Jazz.”

“What?”

“You went to a hotel and met her there. Tell me I’m wrong,” you interjected. Tom was too furious to explain his actions, he let you believe he cheated on you.

“Your silence answers my question,” you remarked, wanting to break down inside.

“Tom, just so you know you're sleeping on the couch tonight,” you said. You had your answer now. How could Tom do that to you. I didn’t matter in that moment all that mattered was consoling your daughter who Tom broke.

“Real fucking mature Y/N,” Tom yelled, as you walked away.

“Rosie?” You asked, knocking on her door.

“Mom… he broke up with me,” Rosie said as tears fell.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong…. I swear to god if he met some other chick while I was in a coma.”

“No, nothing like that,” you said, trying to comfort your daughter. There is nothing like a first heartbreak.

“There has to be a reason. One minute I was in love with a boy who loved me back and now, I’m not.”

“Shh, it's okay,” you said, rubbing you hand down Rosie’s back as you pulled her into your arms. How could Henry actually do that to her and flee the scene like a coward. Parker managed to chase him down in the parking lot.

“What the fuck Henry?” Parker called after him

“I did it because I love her,” Henry exclaimed, continuing to walk away.

“Bullshit,” Parker yelled as he punched Henry square in the jaw.

“Owww.”

“I said, I’d fucking hurt you if you broke her heart.”

“Yeah, I know. It was still a shitty threat, but I deserved that.”

“I don’t understand what happened Henry. One minute you tell me you love her the next you don’t…. I don’t know if I will ever understand but you can’t come by the house for awhile,” Parker pleaded, wanting to know the truth.

“Alright. Just tell her I’m sorry mate.” Henry concluded, feeling like literal shit and an asshole and a fucking idiot all at once. He had just broken the heart of the girl he loves. It was never supposed to happen this way.

Author note: I'm sorry for all those who love Rosie and Henry. Don't be afraid to call me a bitch for breaking your heart, my brother did when he read it. Also Tom is a literal asshole in this chapter.

I really can't wait for you guys to read the next ones, even if you don't ask for it. I will post hints for the next chapter with emojis because it's fun.

Guns, Glamour, Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

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

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

[develation]

A Lifeguard's preach- please read

Okay, hi, welcome to my Ted talk. So surprise for some of you but I work as a lifeguard, and I have some things to say about my experience for the 2 years I've worked as one.

A lot of people have decided it's okay to crap on first responders lately, which is a subject I will lightly touch on. But pool lifeguards have been under-appreciated for a very long time. The pool I work at is like a mini-waterpark. We have slides, basketball hoops, a water playground, a lazy river (with tubes), an obstacle course, and concessions. Were not just your neighborhood pool, which means there are more dangers to look out for. Because you can tell yourself that things never happen, but that's a lie. Every day, things always happen.

So today I was walking my stand (grazing stands there called because you walk back and forth for 20 mins straight and then move to the next stand to do it all over again for another 20 mins. repeat that process for 2 hours on lazy river rotation). And this lady decided to sit right in the middle of where I'm walking. Now in lifeguarding, we have to keep a 10/20, which means 10 seconds to see someone and 20 seconds to get to them. And the zone I'm on is SCS which is the little kid playground, y'know, with TODDLERS AND BABIES EVERYWHERE. So in order to properly scan my zone and make sure none of these babies start choking on water, I ask her to move. And she looks at me and goes, "well you should have a sign there that says that." She moves, but did this lady seriously tell me that we should have a sign that says- "Please don't sit in the Lifeguards way. They are trying to make sure you and your child don't die." Like what?!

It's not just her, I alone have been disrespected so much on this job, it's stupid. I've had moms tell me to LEAVE MY ZONE and go get their kid because it will be my fault if they drown when the mother herself is on the other side of the lazy river. I've saved a boy and the mother said, "He was fine. I'm not filling out the paperwork, I just want to enjoy my last ten minutes here." Like, YOUR FUCKING WELCOME.

I am so sick of this. Do people don't even know the amount of training we do just to even work? I have at least 200 hours of training, and I don't even work the full year's cuz of school. It's not just CPR y'know? I know how to and train to handle Rescue-Breathing, seizures, chest compressions (yes, that is different from CRP), allergic reactions, heat stroke, burns, chemical burns (mostly for employees because we work with that stuff), Heimlich, Spinals (head, neck, and back injuries), eye trauma, and more. I, WE, may be no police officer or EMT, but we know our shit.

For working in general, while you're sitting in that cool water enjoying life. Where sitting there (or even worse, walking) in 2-hour rotations sweating our asses off. You can talk about those umbrellas we get on sitting stands all day BUT THEY DON'T DO CRAP. Because the sun MOVES in the sky. And most shifts are from 10:45 to 6:30, open to close. I have only worked 3 shifts that haven't been 7 or 8 hours long.

"What about lunch breaks?" well guess what, we don't get one! Every 2 hours we get 17 min breaks (15 guards on stand and 3 in break room at all times, that's how our rotation works) that could be interrupted at any moment because people don't drown on a schedule. My water bottle is broken (it leaks) from how many times I've thrown that thing when a long whistle goes off.

Just imagine, you're sitting there eating your well-deserved sandwich, slipping some water from your water bottle, chatting it up with the other guards. And then out of fucking nowhere- BRRRRRRRRRRRRR- *Hi this is adrenaline, I'm gonna turn all the way up now* "OH SHIT SOMEONE'S DROWNING FUCK FUCK FUCK-." And now you, your boss, and other 2 break guards are sprinting full speed across the pool deck trying not to trip over your own equipment. With your food and water bottle forgotten on the concrete of the guard-room floor. [It was a very sad day. I had ordered Jimmy Johns just for that...]

I have saved 8 people, all of them children. And every day, there are at least 2 saves, which means someone is drowning and a lifeguard has to jump in for them. Realistically though? There have been too many days for me to count where there were 8 or if not more saves. People take pool safety for granted, there fucking idiots who think that just because they're tall enough to go down the slide they can swim in the 12-foot deep catch pool. They think that they can go in the lazy river without a tube. Or that they don't need a lifejacket. Parents are idiots, who don't watch their children. In one of my saves, I watched a kid disappear underwater in front of me. One second they were above water and the next, just gone. It's not like the movies guys, there's no screaming or splashing. There's the weird doggy paddle, and then they stop making distance and are weirdly treading, and then they're gone. And then you have to pick out from the kids who are floating with their backs on the surface, the kids who pretend to drown for fun, and the adults who think it's okay to "test" the lifeguards.

Just today, within the first 20 mins of open we have a lady pass out. There's something horrifying about holding someone's limp body in your hands and them not waking up. Last year we had a lifeguard pass out from the heat on the lazy river. Just flop straight onto the pavement. In years past we had a woman have a heart attack on the deck. We kept her alive until EMS arrived but she died in the hospital 3 days later. There was another lady who busted her knee open and bled everywhere. Stuff always happens.

I make $10.86 an hour to save people's lives and get shit on while doing it. It's not everybody, I meet those parents who say, "Don't worry, I'll yell at them." Those kids whole actually put their tubes back and put back the tubes that everybody left right next to the corral. That one dude who filled up my water bottle with his water because, "I looked like I was melting and needed something good today". Those girls who say I'm pretty despite all my scaring and me having short hair (yes I have gotten judged for being a girl and having short hair). But most of the time, we are ignored and looked down upon.

Trust me, we don't mind small talk. Or making jokes, telling stories. We just want to be appreciated. And I just don't feel that most of the time. My bosses have been amazing to me, and they are one of the only reasons I come to work with a smile on my face. But above all that, I just want to fulfill the childhood-old dream of being a hero. Of saving a life. I know I'm not quite suited out for firefighting or EMT's or policing.

But I'm still doing it. And I would like for others to just see me, instead of yelling at me for saving their child's life.

[blubberchaser]

One Hundred Inches

Ben stood in front of the full length mirror, backing up a few steps to fit his whole body in the frame. After two years of steady weight gain, he barely recognised the fat man staring back at him. His eyes worked up and down, taking in his immense size. He breathed in and out pushing his gut out as far as it would go and admiring the curviture of his body.

Looking down he saw nothing beyond his own swollen fat chest and belly stretched far out more than a foot in front. Even his nipples were long gone from view, folded into the roll of blubber on the other side of fat boy tits. He reached down, gathering as much of his heavy overhanging blubber into his arms as he could and lifting it to expose his crotch to the mirror. He remembered when I first told him I wanted him too big to jerk himself off, how excited I was watching his manhood progressively shrink into his fat rolls. He tried to free one arm to reach down and see what was left but his overhanging belly spilled out of his remaining arm burying his crotch under a roll of blubber. He grunted, taking a deep breath and thinking about trying again but laziness and the warning signs of impending hunger were taking over. He turned slightly letting the middle fold of his fat torso, just over his love handles deepen and tracing the stretch marks with his fingers all the way up to his chest.

Ben pushed his tits together,  feeling the softness and his sensitive stretched out nipples. He grabbed a handful of the each of the sides and jiggled the fat, smiling to himself. Fuck I wish these were bigger he thought, envying the chest size and pure flabbiness of record breaking fat men he spent hours browsing online at. Tits were a major focus point of ours, he loved how much attention I gave them, squeezing his chest rolls through his shirt when we were out in public to get his attention, lifting his shirt while I embraced him knowing I would be deep in his chest in a fraction of a second my tongue in the fold between them and the top of his gut, sucking and biting on his nipples so he would squirm, making all his blubber shake and bounce between us and turning me like nothing else.

I stood leaning on the door frame of our bedroom, admiring my fat boy lost in himself, appreciating my work fattening him up and playing with his own blubber. I don’t want to waste my time telling you about me on his big day. Five foot seven, 255lbs somewhere about half of Ben’s weight, meaty, footballer player build with plenty of it in my thighs and ass, shaved head with a few days stubble. I had started out the lighter of the two of us but that lasted not even a month of our regular routine of drive through visits, morning donuts and late night binges, me rubbing his belly and massaging his chest as he ate.

I watched Ben knowing what was going through his mind, how into his own body he had become the last year. The rolls the folds, the softness, how he bounces and wobbled all over every time he moved now. But what really turned him on the most was just how much he had grown, the limitations imposed by his own size, how much space his new body took up and how far his huge belly stretched out far in front of him. That really penetrated deep into Ben’s mind, was what he found most enjoyable and what kept him piling on the lbs . We were both always exchanging glances and laughing to each other when he tried to waddle through spaces, bumping furniture with his fat ass that he would have cleared with inches to spare just a year ago or when he reached out, bending down to retrieve something, forgetting he was a fat boy now, his huge mass of belly fat freezing him midway and making him grunt and call for my help.

I watched him a few mins more as he enjoyed himself exploring his body, I had no doubt he was as heavily aroused by playing with himself as I was watching him. His cock however was completely hidden from view, deep under that enormous belly overhang and buried in pubic fat while mine tented prominently leaving a wet patch on the front of my gym shorts. Only the way he started at himself in the mirror smiling and staring intently gave it away. I waited maybe 10 seconds before I could stand it no longer and slipping through the half open door, I had to get my hands on my fat boy.

It was easy to sneak up on him from behind. His body blocked the whole mirror and he was distracted playing with himself. Slipping my arms around his lower back roll just above his ass I embraced my fat boy in a hug from behind, squeezed gently against the rolls of blubber and pushed the sides of his gut up, something I know he liked because it made him look fatter. Ben turned sideways, bringing my muscled frame into view alongside his own in the mirror.

“What the fuck have you done to me?!?” he grunted out in his heavy midwestern accent.

-“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“This!” He grunted again, picking up the furthest section of his gut in his chubby hands, a mass of blubber that he had put on in the last few months that hung lower the rest and letting it fall. “I’m fucking huge, have you seen me lately”

-“Yeah, I’ve noticed you put on a few lbs this week” I replied squeezing deeper and making all his rolls of fat wobble and bounce off each other.

“Will you stop enjoying yourself for a minute measure me?”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it...” I laughed back

-“Okay don’t then, just stay there all day, letting me go hungry” he answered back, his eyes returning to our reflection in the mirror. Ben rolled his shoulders back and letting out something between a grunt and a growl, he leaned  forward, pushing his mammoth gut out as far as it would go and spreading his ass cheeks. Pretending to stretch he leaned back trapping the wet patch of my gym shorts between his beach ball sized ass cheeks. He lowered his voice and locked my eyes in the mirror.

-‘Please baby...I feel so much fatter”

“Alright, let me get the tape”

I pulled my hands slowly from under his gut and walked across the room, leaving him to admire himself a few moments more. I stepped over a pair of 6XL shorts with a jock strap tanged inside and to my beside table. It was covered in remnants of last nights fun. I screwed the lid back on a tube of lube and tucked it out of view.  I grabbed a series of wrappers, rolled them into a ball and went to stuff them in a three tub stack of Ben and Jerry’s.

-“Don’t waste that!” I heard Ben holler across the room.

“What?”

-“The last of that tub, Don’t waste it!”

I looked inside at a third of tub of congealed ice cream and chocolate, sloppy and sticky, I stirred the gross bit at the top into the molten chocolate and cream with a spare spoon.

“I thought you finished all last night?”

-“Nope bring it here”

Holding the sticky tub of ice cream remains in one hand I pulled open the drawer and dug around for the 120’ tape I kept handy. Grabbing it with one hand, I dumped the trash into the pile in our bedside trash can. “Come on!” I heard a grumpy, impatient Ben say from the other side of the room. I couldn’t tell if he wanted the ice cream or the tape more. He had gotten so fucking greedy recently. Anything I put in front of him disappeared within minutes. I regularly came home to an empty fridge and a pile of garbage on the counter.

I walked across the room and stood in front on him his gut pressed up to my flat stomach. Ben stared at me and then at the ice cream, visibly drooling and licking his lips, silently ordering me to feed it it to him.  I raised the sticky tub to his mouth as he tilted his head back, the fat mass under his chin moving to the roll at the back of his head where his neck used to be. The liquid mess sliding down the wax side of the tub and into his waiting mouth within a fraction of a second it was in his belly resting comfortably on top of a still half full belly from last night. he licked the rim of the tub, catching the last drips of melted ice cream. Tossing the tub aside, I returned to Bens body, examining the mass of blubber I knew every inch of. He was right, his gains had been out of control recently, visibly fatter almost everywhere.

“Okay, lets do this” I said looping the tape around his back. He smiled back at me, my happy growing fat boy, shifting himself so he could me wrap the tape around his girth. “Here hold this” I said, Ben dutifully responding by pinning the metal tab of the tape to his fat gut just next to his belly button with his chubby finger. He wasn’t the flabbiest of fat guys, but it still sank into his belly blubber a half inch. He was far too fat for me to reach round and grab the tape, so I walked round him securing the tape in the one gap between his copious rolls of fat just at his lower back. Stretching it round the other side, making sure it was over his biggest flab roll and didn’t slip between them. It sounds hard but after dozens of times in the last two years I had perfected the motion. I laughed a little and Ben knew why. Doing this always made me think back to when he was in the mid 200’s and it was a quick 10 second Sunday morning job. Reaching his belly button, my fingers fumbling over the deep hole in an ocean of blubber, my cock twinged and I took the other tab, ignoring the dirty thoughts in my mind.

“Relax” I said and he let his hands fall and rest on his side. “101.4”

-“No way, check again”

“ I’m telling you, it’s 101”

-“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure, how many times have I done this, almost every week for two years, you baby... are 100 inches of pure blubber”

-“Here let me see” he tried to look down, shifting gaze down, expanding his belly girth and making the tape pop from my fingers’ I laughed

“You know better than that, don’t you trust me?”

-“Yes of course, I trust you, I knew it was coming, i just wanted to see it for my self, WOW... 100 fucking inches round, that’s fucking amazing, it’s really great, I never thought... Well I knew we were almost there but I still can’t believe it”

Ben looked so excited, like all his dreams had come true, he put his hands on me, pulling me in as close as a man with a 100’ gut can. I let me body sink into the flabby fat mountain that was a severely obese Ben. I reached my hands round as far as they would go leaving a 2 foot gap spread across his love handles and back. As I pulled him close his belly between us pushed his huge fat boy tits up into his face and kissed him. Silly fat boy, I could still taste chocolate ice cream on his tongue. Ben forced his thick greedy tongue into the back of my mouth with the same force that he used when demolished slices of cake and chewed donuts.

-“I love you”he panted through his usual heavy laboured breaths.

We seldom had heavy make out sessions standing, it was just too difficult to get around all the blubber in his belly, tits and neck rolls. He took the hint and waddled over to the bed his ass cheeks colliding into each other as he took each step. Collapsing on the bed his ocean of body fat wobbling, he shifted his massive weight and heaved his butt on to the protesting mattress. We we’re one of those noisy couples the downstairs neighbours, if we had any, would hate. As many extra slats and reinforcements I had added to the bed, even bolting it to the floor, we went through two mattresses in the last year and I couldn’t stop metal springs screaming under Ben’s weight as he shifted to get comfortable.

Using his lard buried muscles he shifted his body back an inch at time, breathing heavy and making every pound of blubber wobble and bounce until he found a comfortable spot. His body spread out coving an area about four feet wide. Ben’s tits rolled to the side almost touching the mattress beneath him and allowing him to rest his hands just above his gut, somewhere where his ribs would be if they weren’t buried deep. He hugged his own body and smiled in ecstasy, mediating on his own huge size, how he never felt sexier and one of his ultimate dreams finally being reality.

I climbed on top starting at his overhang worked my way upwards, tickling his side rolls with my tongue and making him squirm and wiggle, his stretch marked skin visibly struggling like swollen a fat filled ballon, more moisturiser needed on those spots during our nightly pre bed routine, I made a mental note. I settled for a moment on his three inch wide nipples, nuzzling my face into those fat filled manboobs. Some guys nipples remained the same as they grew, Ben’s had always stretched outwards, expanding to their current size as his chest swelled up with one of the most impressive sized pair of fat boy tits I had ever seen on a man. I didn’t know it that natural or from all our heavy nipple play, the hour or so I spent enjoying them as he dug into pints of ice cream every evening. He moaned hard and moaned harder again as I sucked on them, biting gently, he shifting his hips so his under belly rolls and swollen fat pad rubbed against his buried cock. Something I really preferred he didn’t do during our nightly feeding sessions as it quickly exerted him, wasting energy and precious calories, but had become irresistible to Ben as our session got hotter and heavier and he simply gotten too big for me to reach both his cock and chew his hyper sensitive nipples at once.

I really didn’t want Ben getting too worked up this early in the morning, so I moved swiftly upwards to his neck roll and second, (maybe third?) chin. I really couldn’t tell generally there was one thick roll of blubber circling what had been his neck that restricted him tilting his head too far forward or back, but when he lay down with a big happy grin plastered on his chubby face, or laughed as my tongue tickled his blubber rolls a third smaller one appeared and disappeared.

“You know...” I said resting my head on his chest. “It’s really just a number, it’s not like everything you gained until now is any different” Ben gave me his massively overfed puppy dog, why did you stop eyes. The same pleading look he always gave me since he had both grown well beyond pleasuring himself in any meaningful or satisfying way and become far too lazy to even try.

-“Yeah... it’s a big number”

“A fucking huge number, three digits” I teased back, playing with my fat boy, rolling the blubber from where it had pooled on the opposite side of his chest, so it resembled its usual fat self, with half of Ben’s nipple hidden and the tip rubbing off the edge of his under tit roll.

-“You know I don’t want to stop, I love everything about this” he panted, reaching down and grabbing his under belly roll with both hands, easier now gravity wasn’t fighting him, he hugged his massive roll of overhang close to his body.

“Don’t worry” I laughed, “it’s not going anywhere, and I’m incredibly proud of you. You’re my prize fat boy, huge and perfect in every way.”

-“Good, I worried you were going soft on me” he grunted back to his normal gruff self, releasing his overhang roll of blubber back to rest on to his thighs and slapping his belly, sending a ripple through the soft, doughy outer most layer of his immense fat belly. “I know you’re into this as much as I am, I see you staring at this thing, practically drooling”

“Yeah, me go soft on you, I spent all morning at the gym. Only one of us goes soft, in this house” I laughed sticking my finger into the deep hole in a sea of blubber that was once a belly button.

-“So are we going out to celebrate”

“Of course”

-“When?”

“Now, if you’re hungry???” Now it was his turn to laugh.

-“How many years now, 2-3? When have I ever not been hungry, this thing is constantly rumbling, I’ve been sitting here half the morning waiting for you to come back. I hope you picked up food.” The man could focus on only two things, his cock, his belly or in most cases both. For the record I had never neglected to walk through the front door without a hot, greasy bag of something fried, rolled in sugar and served in a family size container. Not once in two fucking years had I let the gas gauge in my truck or my my partner’s insatiable gut hit the half empty mark.

“There’s a tray of cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, with a cup of extra Jizz and one of those half and half blended coffees milkshakes you like” but don’t fill up. I want to go out to lunch.

-“Okay, sure. Just bring me two to snack on while I get ready.

I had Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, sucking calories from a cup of syrup and half and half the size of a bucket. Getting a guy his size ready to go was a time consuming task. Showering him down on a metal bench we had built specially and was capable of holding twice his weight was the most time consuming part. Mostly because he would spread his legs and let his belly hang down between them and I couldn’t help parking my stiff cock in his belly button now it was no longer confined to tight gym shorts. But we had gotten every inch of him scrubbed down and into the roomiest pair of grey sweat pants I could find in his drawer of clothes that looked too big and oversized to fit anyone else, but on Ben nestled not quite snuggly enough to show off all of my fat boys rolls to the extent I liked but enough so they stayed up without him having to keep tugging on the waistband as his rolls made their usual seemingly independent efforts to wobble and bounce out of the clothing covering a man that was clearly too fat to be wearing anything at all.

I always waited to help Ben dress before I put on my own clothing, he enjoyed a naked muscle bound chaser manhandling him into clothes, hugging his belly and squeezing his love handles as we went and I didn’t have to get my own T-shirt damp and sweaty as I helped him manoeuvre the rolls of flesh into clothing and  get him to his feet. “Hey what shirt do you want”  Ben pulled back hard on the straw taking a mouthful of cream into his bulging chubby cheeks as he considered his options.

-Whichever one you want” he splurged, catching a splodge of whipped cream with his tongue and pulling it back into his mouth. I grabbed a thin white T-shirt from the top of the pile and pulled the almost empty cup Ben was digging around for the last drips of cream in from his grasp. He grunted, unsatisfied with being denied the pool of sweet fattening goodness at the bottom of his cup.

“Come on we need to get moving”

-Alright, lay it on me” he said impatiently.

I gathered up the handfuls of the sheet sized cotton shirt into my fists, pulling it over his arm and head. I negotiated the shirt down over his chest, adjusting his fat tits as I went and pulling it to the bottom of his belly where it stretched even thinner. It looked too small, the fabric stretching as Ben breathed in and out, but I knew once we got him standing we would be good. I slipped on his socks and sneakers and held out my forearms for him to grab.

“Come on baby, time to go”

Ben rocked back and forth twice, although his ass, chest and thighs were all massive most of his weight resided firmly in his fat belly, when standing he looked almost spherical, an immense fat blob with a head and limbs. He was getting to the stage where even with my help he some momentum to get himself off the edge of the bed. Ben’s  feet hit the floorboards causing them creak and dip a fraction of an inch. I let go of his forearms, bracing myself as his weight pushed me backwards and I caught the side of his gut taking a few dozen pounds of weight off his leg muscles.

“You good baby?”

-“Yeah, I got this” he huffed. “All good”

“First step is the hardest” I replied, rocking his flab back and forth, letting his legs adjust to taking his body weight. Ben reached a standing position his gut still hanging down, he extended his legs, taking the full weight of his belly and returning it to its normal position outstretched far in front of him. I reached round the back of his sweat pants, pulling them up over his ass fat and adjusting the elastic waistband to fit between two of his back rolls, before I tucked the front firmly under his overhanging gut. I pulled down the cotton shirt over his gut, barely hiding it from view under the thin, stretched fabric. He wobbled from left to right letting it adjust to all his rolls and folds.

“God you’re an immense fat hog” I said out loud without thinking.

-“Yup” Ben smiled back, “I really am, aren’t I? Now get your own clothes on, I can’t fucking stand here sweating all day. This 100’ tank needs filling” He pushed me out of the way with his gut and huffing and puffing reached past me to grab the cup I had left on the table by the bed. Knocking the top off with his chubby fat fingers, he stared unblinking at the clump of cream and chocolate syrup like a bright shining prize at the bottom that almost escaped him. He brought it to his lips letting the mass of calories slide into his waiting fat face. He pulled it back rolling his tongue over his face to catch most of the rim of chocolate on chin roll and held it up examining it to make sure there was nothing left at the bottom. A small drip of chocolate syrup left on the rim of the plastic slowly fell, leaving a sticky tail between the cup and Bens clean white shirt. He shrugged and tossed it in the mounting pile of trash. I had my jeans and shirt on by then and was just wrestling with the last boot.

-“Okay” he grunted, turning his momentarily satisfied belly towards the door “let’s get out of here”

As Ben had proved serious about about meeting our goals  it had quickly become necessary to trade my old house down to a rambling ranch style one with wider hallways and a total of three steps, one in the garage and two on the front front porch. I also took out the old enclosed shower and retiled the bathroom, remodelling our home to better accommodate my baby’s growing body and more limited mobility had become a fun past time. He would park his ass in an extra wide recliner, his belly over the edge of the arm rests of the chair and watch football in the living room, a sport I had never gotten into, coming from outside the USA. Yelling at the big screen Tv through mouthfuls of nachos and fried chicken, or working his way from one end of a giant burrito bigger than my forearm from this place nearby he loved and washed down with plenty of beer he often watched two or three games in a row his fat chins bobbing up and down, his mouth working overtime on his supply of game day snacks as his piggy guys were fixed squarely on meaty football players asses and trim waistlines as they ran around the field. While he enjoyed his me time, I would work on our older style home, shirtless and with a tool belt slung over my hips I retiled the bathroom, expanded the door ways, added a few extra reinforcements to our bed.

Ben waddled through the living room passed his recliner, his mammoth ass cheeks looking like two jelly filled beach balls bouncing off each other other trying to knock him off balance, it was only the forward pull of the weight from his belly that kept his momentum going forward once the started waddling in any direction. He paused for a moment to catch his breath by the front door, leaning on the wall, waiting for me to open it. Walking out into the drive and the door of the truck the sun caught his forehead and eyes, and he started to get visibly uncomfortable almost immediately, beads of sweat rolled down his fat cheeks and multiple chins. Ben spent almost all his time in doors, enjoying comfortable air conditioning that was necessary for a guy his size. He hated being warm and grumbled lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off and exposing his round fat belly and even fatter man tits for anyone who happened to be walking down our street or in their front lawns. I swear he made them jiggle a little extra on purpose as he wiped his forehead, making a patch of his shirt even more see through. I had the engine running and the A/C on full blast in the truck waiting for him, he just needed my help to get in it. He manoeuvred his backside to the edge of the seat and, one foot on the extra heavy duty running board the auto shop and installed in my truck and a firm grasp on the side handle he pulled himself up six inches.

-“Unnnmmmpphhh... I can’t get up, help me”

“Yeah you can” I replied, wrapping my arms under the sweaty over hang of belly flab and taking some of the weight off his leg until he could the edge of his huge ass on to the leather seat and his second leg up. Grunting like an animal and using every ounce of strength he had he, with me taking a good few lbs of weight off by holding his belly, Ben edged his ass back two inches at a time until he was into the seat.

I kept the passenger seat permanently back as far and as low as it would go. Ben was as short as I was and had lost a few inches as he grew outwards and sideways. Even so the the 10 inch thick layer of blubber that cushioned his ass basically had the effect similar to sitting on a stack of phone books, lifting him up an extra half a foot and left him with a lone inch or two of head room. The leather seat did a good job of cushioning his back fat into a comfortable position and although there was no way in hell it could contain his love handles we had done a pretty long road trip last month without him needing to get out and stretch too often. Flying anywhere was out of the question for us. The problem was likely to be his belly which was almost at the edge of his knees when he spread apart his legs apart and was fast approaching the dashboard. I could see his shirt had ridden up exposing his belly button which was about 4 inches from the passenger side glove box, I had to have him hold his gut back to open the time I forgot it was unusable with Ben in the truck. Ben relaxed shifting his butt back and catching his breath, feeling the cool blow of the air conditioning on his sensitive nipples through a paper thin shirt that was already damp from wiping himself.

-“Let’s go, I’m hungry” he cheered now that he was comfortable, slapping his gut and making the whole thing wobble again.

“You got it bubba!” I replied back with the same enthusiasm, leaning over to plant one on my sweaty whale sized, mountain of fat husband to show I appreciated his efforts leaving the house. “You’re so fucking cute when we go out, you know that”

-“Am I?”

It was a short drive to the restaurant, me trying to keep my focus on the road and not get distracted by the “oomph” that came from the passenger seat every time I hit a dip in the road and Ben’s body responded accordingly his whole body wobbling and bouncing. When we got to the restaurant, I pulled the truck up right out front across a double wide handicapped space. Out was a lot easier than in and Ben didn’t even wait for me to get around to open the door, before scooting his ass to the edge and landing his round globular body out onto the sidewalk. My truck suspension moaned and returned to its upright position as my heavyweight passenger side cargo unloaded itself impatient for more food. The smell of frying grease from the kitchen out back hung in the air, making Ben take deep inhaling breaths. He began to drool slightly and without thinking ran his hand over his stomach, rubbing his belly hungrily like he was warming it up, getting it ready to accept an in human quantity of fattening food and really make a pig of himself.

Ben waddled inside pushing the wooden doors open with his gut, making one slam loudly against the door stop. I always let him enter first, the man was a sight to behold. Huge out stretched gut, the top firm and doughy, the overhanging bottom a soft blubbery roll of jello that never stopped moving and refused to stay covered by any shirt we could buy. An impressive set of tits, bigger than any women’s implants but unmistakably pure natural lard, rolling over the top of his gut and continuing all the way round to his upper back. I liked to watch people react, it was a family place. Women always looked grossed out, sometimes sympathetic, shaking their heads often dropping their forks or pushing their own food away. Men starred, mostly impressed that a guy that big could move so swiftly. Ben barged his away across the room without noticing any stares. I told you... two track mind, his belly, cock or both. Once Ben started moving he didn’t stop until he got where he wanted to be. The effort showed on him, breathing heavy, grunting as he moved. Seldom bothering to excuse himself, he grunted it inaudibly out between laboured breaths the time his enormous ass bumped a table and knocked a glass of water to the floor. Resembling something between a half waddling, half lumbering lardass he hauled his body across the room, making floorboard creak and any remaining patrons give up pretending not to look. His body wanted him to take breaks, but his mind was determined to get his ass in a chair and he relied on momentum to keep him going once he stared. It was a lot easier to just keep going than to get him moving again once he stopped to lean on a wall and catch his breath.

We grabbed a table in the far corner where we could make camp for a few hours undisturbed. Ben pushed two chairs together and slid his ass between them and the table. A hundred lbs of Ben ass forced the chairs back a couple of inches as he lowered his bulk down, the legs scraping and leaving marks on the wooden floor. His extended belly prevented him from getting too close to the table. At home Ben preferred to balance a plate on his belly, using his gut and a table and shortening the distance between the plate and his mouth considerably. When we were out he behaved him self a little more leaning forward to shovel big mouth fulls into his waiting mouth.

I took a seat across the table and admired my fat boy. Sitting there looking huge and sexy, catching his breath, rubbing his gut. They always gave us the same waitress, I tipped her $100 cash upfront and ordered us drinks, a half gallon of Rootbeer for Ben, iced water for me. Ben picked up the tankard and chugged it down and in a matter of seconds she was back with a second.

“Are you doing okay over there bubba?”

-“Yeah, just winded” he huffed, wiping sweat with his napkin. I wanted him to do it with his shirt again so I could admire his belly some more. “Where’s the food?”

“Coming” I laughed, reaching over rubbing my hand down his gut and slowly towards his crotch.

The waitress returned with a plate of piled high with fried appetisers, a board of pizza slices, a tray of chicken and beef skewers each of them family sized. Along with a pint of ranch dressing.  It was easier to order one side of the menu than to slow ourselves down ordering specifics. She put a large milkshake with whip cream on the top in front of Ben. He liked to alternate between sweet and salty so he could eat longer without his taste buds getting bored.

Ben leaned forward grabbing a slice of pizza, wrapping it round a fried cheese stick and dunking it in the ranch dressing it up, scooping it along the bowl to give it a heavy coating. He lifted the greasy, dripping morsel to his mouth, opened wide and deposited inside, following it quickly with a second. His cheeks full, he groaned deeply and sexually, enjoying his food.

Ben worked at pace through the first three platters, mixing up the food to his taste, experimenting with the salty and greasy flavours. Lubricating the dry, breaded, fried goodness with a second and a third bowl of ranch dressing so it slid down into his throat into his insatiable cavernous gut. He interspaced the appetisers with blasts of cold frosted milkshake, leaning back and letting his gut spread out, settle and taking long laboured slugs, filling his cheeks with thick cream milkshake and swallowing it on top of the mouthfuls of junk food. It usually took him about an hour of steady eating before he slowed down. He kept piling greasy fattening appetisers on top of large mouth fulls of milkshake until his gut began to resist the constant onslaught of fat and sugar he was forcefully shovelling down his throat. It was air conditioned but beads of sweat were rolling down Ben’s forehead from the exertion of eating.

-“I gotta do it man... I have to... I can’t stop” he grunted out between breaths. Wiping his sweat away.

“Do what?” I smiled back.

-“Get bigger, get fatter. You have no idea how good this feels. it’s everything I ever wanted” he lifted the furthest flabbiest roll of blubber on the edge of his out stretched belly that seemed to be trying to separate itself from the rest of his body and let it flop down on top of his thick thighs, taking a moment to settle and stop wobbling.

Ben reached forward gathering up all the spare cubes on meat and scraps of breading  that remained from a spread big enough to satisfy a half dozen people into a pile on the plate in front of him and smashing it into one lump with his first. He picked it up what remained and deposited it into mouth, rolling it round to lubricate it with drool and swallowed hard.

-“Unnnnnufff... I love... so good, so huge and fat... want more” he mumbled his eyes closed. it was more than I could take. I swapped chairs so I was by his side. The edge of his belly roll pressed up against my thigh. I lifted the edge of the outermost flab roll of his belly up and let it rest on the side of my lap so I could get closer. I reached my hand across and began to rub the top of his gut, right at the swollen, tight part where his stomach was buried. My mind wandered back to the first time we had done this, same table, a third of the food, a much skinnier, unrecognisable Ben.

-“Thanks baby... that feels good”

“Don’t mention it, you able to handle desert?”

“Of course, just give me a couple of minutes to rest”

Ben’s physiology had adapted to his massive binging sessions, he was still the same country boy that could eat and be hungry thirty minutes later, just with a bigger stomach and a fuck ton more food. I handed him his refilled tankard of iced rootbeer, knowing it would cleanse his palate and help dinner settle in his belly. Eyes still closed, I helped him guide it to his lips and loosing the last of his politeness he chugged the icy cold soda down, letting drips spill out of the corner of his mouth and down his chins. I reached up swiftly with a napkin catching the drips.

-“Uhhh thanks... I totally needed that... this stuff is heavy” he nodded at a table covered in empty plates, three empty stacked bowls of ranch, milkshake glasses sucked dry with a cherry stem stuck too the side, I ate the cherries, Ben didn’t like them. I kept rubbing the top of his gut, letting him begin digesting thousands of calories.

-“Uhhhhhh... good” he moaned” leaning back far and starting to do his favourite trick again, pushing his hips forward slightly so his under belly roll rubbed off his cock and he was able to  jerk off without touching himself. He moaned again louder, the combined feeling of a full belly sloshing round and the pressure of his bulging soft under belly rolls rubbing against his cock driving his mind to dark places. Ben leaked when he ate to full, giving him the ability to jerk himself to completion if he wanted.

“Stop that, I know what you’re doing...you’re being really loud. I’ll get you off later!” He ignored me.

“Baby, If you don’t stop that right now, we can leave without desert.” Ben’s ears pricked up, already feeling an empty space at the top of his gut forming that would perfectly fit a couple of slices of pie or an ice cream sundae.  Rounding out another meal, he didn’t want to leave.

The waitress cleared the table and deposited two thick double slices of pie and a 8 scoop ice cream sundae ‘to share’ I prepaid the check tipping her again to leave us alone. I didn’t know how long Ben would take to force these down. Finished with cutlery and tired of having to leaning forward to reach the table passed his gut Ben scooted his hips down forcing the top of his belly horizontal. it was harder for him to breath with it in this position but easier to eat. The back of the chair strained taking the shift in weight and the rolls at the backside of his Ben’s love handles splitting down the middle and half swallowing the back of the chair. He balanced the plate on the now flat top of his gut and picked up the whole slice of pie with his chubby fingers being careful not to crush it. Rubbing it in whipped cream, he brought it to his mouth. His features were’ almost indistinguishable as he shoved the slice in his face chewing and swallowing. His thick neck roll all the way around, bulging out at his ears, his chubby inflated cheeks, his short piggy nose he took deep breaths in and out of that made his tits wobble and threatened to knock the plate off his chest were all swollen up, each fighting for space. He worked his well trained lips and tongue around the slices of pie, getting a remarkable amount into his mouth and only a few crumbs on the shirt.

By the time both pie slices had disappeared Ben had well and truly lost the will to feed himself. Unable to shift his body or the chairs that anchored him solidly to the floor even an inch back, I pulled the table forward from where it had began to press against his belly.

“You know I love you right bubba”

-“Unf... yeah”

“100 inches... I’m so proud”

-Unf... yeah...” he shifted his weight a tiny fraction of an inch again, before giving up moaning, knowing there was no comfortable position to take the pressure off his gut. I loved when he reached the compliant monosyllabic stage of fullness and gluttony.

I picked up a spoonful of ice cream, bringing it to his mouth. He moaned again, pushing his lips apart and accepting the ice cream. We continued, him accepting tiny spoonfulls of chocolate, strawberry, caramel, vanilla ice cream compared to usual heaped spoonfuls covered in cream and syrup he usually shovelled in. Ben ate at the slowest pace I had ever seen him. His closed his eyes and after a while just kept them closed, moaning and muttering “please” and “more.’ I lost track of time and the last third of Ben’s Ice cream melted into a puddle at the bottom of the serving dish. The restaurant completely emptied out. We kept having to take 5 min breaks while I rubbed his belly until he was able to speak a little.

“Fuckkkk... I’m so full, please baby... please, I have to get fatter”

“Is there more left, please... I like the chocolate, I really like it, is there any more?”

“One... hundred... fucking.... inches, it feels so good. Thank you baby”

I was scraping the bottom of the dish, sad that the end was coming, but there would be many more. Ben had a way still to go, he was determined to gain and loved every lb of blubber we added to his growing fat body more than the last. I was downing my second espresso, getting the energy together to start the trip home. Ben laying back in his two chairs, eyes closed, breathing in and growling like bull as he exhaled. he might have be asleep even.

“Okay”

I said growling at him, getting to my own feet and feeling stiff after what must have been at least three hours.

“Time to go big boy” he nodded and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms and planting his feet for leverage. His ass made it a whole inch up from the seat of both chairs, the joints springing back into their original unburdened position before his fat ass came crashing back down, seriously threatening to collapse the things entirely. We tried again and the same thing happened, Ben’s leg muscles just not strong enough to bring his food filled body to a standing position.

“I think we may have over done it” I said. About 20 mins had passed since he had finished the ice cream and the most painful part of Ben’s fullness had subsided.

-“Haha... yeah... I guess we did.” He laughed back. “What do we do now?”

“Stay for dinner”, I suggested, only half joking. I was always pushing Ben’s limits, both physically and mentally.

-“Yeah, that’s an option, but I want to have some us time. Okay....help me get these chairs back and lets try once more, third time lucky. Will you do me a favour when we get home”

“Sure baby, anything.”

-“Will you get the tape out again, I want to be sure”

[lovelybunny08]

The Backroom

♡ Pairing- Yoongi X Reader

♡ Genre- Smut, doctor, fingering

♡Description- What happens when one of your fantasy comes true 

♡ Again thank you @artofediting for editing all my story. Seriously love you I dont know what I will do without you.😭😭 

♡ Word Count- 3,058

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Your job at the hospital is ER patient registration. It is rather straightforward occupation: register the patient when they come into the emergency room. Nothing more, nothing less. In most circumstances, it would be an easy job…but you’re not in most circumstances considering that the hospital you’re employed at is located downtown, only a few blocks away from a long strip of somewhat questionable bars and nightclubs. The daytime shifts were normally easygoing; the only complications being the odd day here and there where the ER would overflow with patients from minor ailments. Now, that was the daytime shift, but working the overnight shift (especially on weekends) was a different story. You can account for several times in which patients were so incredible intoxicated that you had to repeatedly remind them of their location followed by why they were there. Furthermore, attempting to register drunk patients into the ER was like talking to a toddler: a lot of babbling and no clear answers. Due to this, finishing your charts was next to impossible and the minutes dragged into eternity. You would do anything for a distraction…

…and wow, did your hospital always deliver.

The one piece of excitement to break up the registering monotony was the attending physician on call: Dr. Min. You never spoke a word to him, preferring to ogle him like every other female employee (and more often than not, the patients too). He was strikingly beautiful with slightly mussed blond hair and penetrating eyes softened by his gummy smile. He was physically astonishing, yes, but you also recognized that he was one of the only attendings that treated all the hospital employees equally. Although, there was one particular feature that plagued your mind most nights: his hands. The way his wide palms flooded into his long and firm fingers made arguing with the drunks worthwhile. Only God above knows how often you imagined those hands grasping your neck. As if to entertain your prayers, you have been blessed in that Dr. Min always works the overnight shifts for some unholy reason. At this point you’ve convinced yourself that that ethereal being is the only reason you continue working the overnight sift; otherwise you would have saved yourself countless hours of sleep and frustration.  

Snapping out of your recollection, you shake your head a little and look at the clock in the ER as it strikes 10 a.m. Your back was already aching in the creaky chair with you share a love/hate relationship. You had begun your day shift at 6 a.m., only to take on the night shift as well when one of your co-workers begged you to change with them. Being the ever-so kind and honestly broke soul that you are, you take it without a lot of convincing. Your eyes wondered about the relatively empty waiting room as you calculated how you would spend the five hours between your dayshift and overnight shift. You settle upon going home to take a shower and hopefully a short nap. Before you started drooling over the thought of your bed, the irritating squeak of a soccer mom with her cleated-up son snatched your attention. You huff as you fall into your chair and pull up a new registration form. You plaster the most convincing smile you can as you address her, “Yes ma’am, can I have the patient’s name please?”

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You awake to the blaring of your alarm and nearly throw your phone against the wall. You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you attempt to come out of the coma of a nap you fell into. You dress yourself in black work pants and a nice white shirt, at work you were required to wear business attire. You stumble to the bathroom to make yourself look somewhat presentable. Drunk people were brutally honest, and you had gotten enough rude comments about your tired appearance in the past. You make yourself some coffee and grab an apple as you head off for your overnight shift.  

You clock in at the hospital at 22: 30 sharp and begin to settle in at the desk to get your “day” started. After a few hours, you were surprised with how calm the shift had gone thus far. Granted, it was a weekday and people didn’t tend to drink and go as hard as they would on the weekends. You were currently taking a short break in the back room behind the desk when you hear a knock at the door. Your eyes flip to a computer on the counter expecting to see an alert for a patient needing to be registered. When no such notification appeared, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Another knock on the door drags your feet underneath you as you go to open the door. With widened eyes and a sucked in breath (can’t believe your body betrayed you), you greet the captivating gaze of Dr. Min. Realizing that you were just standing their gawking (good job being subtle), you address him.

“Oh-uh, hi, Dr. Min. Is there a patient I need to register?” You don’t fail to notice his deft fingers gripping a coffee cup in one hand. You mentally wipe your drool when he smiles at you and peers down at you.  

“No, I just came here to bring you some coffee.” He responded, waiting for you to take the steaming black liquid.  

You take the coffee with a grateful smile. You continue to stare at each other awkwardly until you realize that he’s waiting for you to let him into the room. In your haste, your slosh the scalding liquid on your hand as you pull the door open wider. You muffle a small yelp and watch curiously as he looks around the small space. The backroom was better described as a spacious closet with a couple chairs in the corner next to a counter in the back corner and a small bed lining a wall for the employees to rest when they have a break. The only other piece of furniture was a small cabinet next to the door where employees often kept little snacks and such. A computer which monitors patients waiting to be registered sits atop the small counter. There were no windows, only another door at the other end of the room which led to a small supply closet. You both make your way across the room and settle into the two chairs.  

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” His voice startled you when he interrupted the silence.

“Oh, well I’ve been working more of the morning shifts recently. I’m in charge of training new hires to do outpatient registration and insurance verification.” Gah, you sound lame.

“Then congratulations.” Dr. Min responded, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Thank you, Dr. Mi—"

“—Please call me Yoongi” he interrupted. Fuck, if you could only manage to stop staring at his hands long enough to come up with something decent to add to the conversation. You were pathetic honestly. Too distracted by a simple appendage that you had yourself…oh, but not like his. You felt yourself growing wet just from wandering how good and different his fingers would feel deep inside your p—  

“—So I won’t be able to see that pretty face as often?” Interrupted again damn it.  

You blush fiercely “Huh? Oh, uh, well-no. No, not really, only if they need me to work overtime, or I cover someone’s shift…” This time your eyes lock onto the way he runs his thumb across his lower lip, and you lick your own lips from pure instinct.  

“So, let me ask you this…’ Yoongi starts, with a deeper drawl to his voice. “Why do you keep looking at my hands?” You choke slightly from two things. The first, being that he caught you. The second, to keep yourself from shouting that you are indeed staring because you’d like to try on his hand as a new necklace. You cover up best you can.

“I-uh, have always wondered if you play the piano because you have long fingers?” FUCK, you suck at this. I mean yes, that has been a passing thought, but there was no way he would buy that. He smirks at your flustered state.

“Hmmm, is that truly what you were wondering?” He says with knowing eyes. “The answer is easy then. I’ve played piano since I was young and have kept it up because it—relaxes—me.” He whispers the last words, giving you a pointed stare as he drags your chair closer to his. “Now, I’m no detective, but most people don’t blush and rub their thighs when they think of piano playing. Try again. Tell me what you’re actually thinking.” You can feel his thighs pressing against yours, but you can’t break his stare when your faces are mere inches apart. However, when you feel his hand (HIS HAND) make its journey across his thighs and onto your own, your eyes fly down to the point of contact. At your action, Yoongi moves both his palms onto your knees and slowly begins dragging them upwards. Licking his lips, he leans across until his breath on your ear sends chills down your spine.  

“You can tell me, dear,” he drawls in a low, sexy voice.

At this, you stilled completely. What was even going on? Where was this coming from? Wait, what were you thinking?? The most eligible bachelor in the entire hospital was hitting on you and you’re questioning it? Within seconds, you come to the conclusion that while you may still wake up from this dream at any moment, you didn’t want to waste the opportunity. With a newfound courage, you lock eyes with Yoongi.  

“I want you to choke me with your hands,” his grip on your thighs tighten, “and I want your fingers deep inside me.” You’re blushing fiercely, but your stare doesn’t waver. His lips turn up in a smirk at your juxtaposed reaction. The next few seconds turn into complete chaos.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Yoongi growls.

Next thing you know, one of his hands are tangling into your hair as he pulls you in by your neck to crush your lips against his. You only take a second for shock before you’re kissing him back just as eagerly. The kiss was aggressive but controlled, passionate but dominant as well. You chucked internally because of c o u r s e that’s how he kisses. You soon feel his tongue skimming against your lips, demanding entrance. Without objection, a groan escapes you as his tongue overcomes you, eager to conquer its newfound territory. However, just as you placed one of your hands on his chest, he abruptly pulls away. He steps his way across the room reaching for the door. For a split second you panic, thinking that you had done something wrong that made him want to leave. Just when you’re about to call out to him, his fingers find the doorknob and turn the lock. He turns back around to be faced with your shiny swollen lips and confused expression. He leans back against the door and answers the silent question in your eyes.

“It’s safer to make sure that no one will be able to walk in on us. You wouldn’t want any eyes peering, now would you kitten?” His gives you a small smirk which is quickly replaced by his darkening gaze. “Now get on the bed.”

You’re pretty sure your heart stopped completely at the pet name, but the increasing need for his touch reminded you to follow his demand. You quickly make your way over to sit on the edge of the bed, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Seemingly pleased with your eager obedience, he strolls to come stand over you. Grabbing your jaw with his hand, he forced you to look up at him. “Are you sure this is what you want, kitten?”

It was obvious he knew the effect that name had on you as he lets out a small chuckle when you start rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any relief. He immediately stops your feeble attempts by slotting his leg in between your thighs.  

“I’ll help you, but I need a definite answer,” Yoongi glowered.

“Yes! Yes, gah please Yoongi,” you whine. You no longer care how desperate you sounded. You needed his hands on you. In response, he leans down to capture your lips with his, tongues intertwining immediately. He then begins to lean you backwards, crawling over you until your back is flat against the bed. With his thigh still between your legs and his mouth moving to suck on your neck, he takes the hand he’s not using for support and slowly begins to trail it until he’s gripping the bottom of your scrub top. He sucks harder at your neck as his hand moves its way back up your body, this time dragging your shirt along with it. Once he finally pulls the shirt off and over your head, he pulls farther away to take in the sight of you in your bra.  

“Just beautiful,” Yoongi whispers.  

While the small break did wonders for your ego, he returns to nibbling on your lips, your neck, your collarbone, anywhere he could bite onto. As soon as he unclasps and does away with your bra, He moves downward to pull a nipple into his mouth. You arch your back and let out a breathy moan as your hands fly to pull at the roots of his hair.  

“Oh my god, please Yoongi. I-I need—” you gasp. He releases your nipple with a pop.  

“Oh, does my kitten want more?” he responds with a sly grin.  

He then descends again to work on your other breast as one of his heavenly hands travels down to undo the buttons of your pants. Without warning or help, he yanks down your pants and continues to drag them off until they are discarded somewhere on the floor. He sucks in a breath at the sight of your white lace panties.  

“Fuck” he nearly moans.  

He rises above you onto his knees to strip himself of his white coat and scrub top. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull as you take in the sheer expanse of his flawless skin. Not allowing you much time to appraise him, he slides off your panties as those too join the abyss of discarded clothing. He groans when he sees the glistening on the inside of your thighs and can no longer hold control himself.  

As he crawls back on top of you, he captures both of your wrists with one hand in a tight hold above your head. Sucking on your body, leaving small purple bruises as he whispers sweet words of praise. He once more sucks your tongue into his mouth and kisses you deeply before he descends once more, pushing himself backward down the bed as he pulls your legs apart. His hands massage the inside of your thighs for a few moments before you suddenly feel his lips wrap around your clit. You scream out as one of your hands fly from above your head to pull at his hair. He groans at the response and the vibrations only spur you on further. Moans and encouraging pleas fall from your lips as he continues to ravage you as if he will never have another chance. Before long, he slides two of his long fingers deep inside you, beginning a scissoring motion as he slides them in and out ruthlessly. Unsurprisingly, it only takes seconds before he finds that special spot and has your body arching off the bed and you begging for release.  

“Yoongi, I’m sooo close" you moaned as your hand moves to dig your nails into his shoulder. He releases your clit and crawls upward, tongues clashing as he gives you a sloppy kiss; all while maintaining the merciless pace he had set with his fingers.  

“Fuck, you look so good like this, falling apart on my fingers” Yoongi moaned, impossibly increasing the speed at which he pumped his fingers inside of you. He leans in close to your ear to whisper,

“C’mon kitten, cum for me. Cum all over these hands you love so much.”

His words send you over the edge and your vision goes white as you cum harder than you have in months. He coaxes you through your orgasm, softly kissing you and purring more words of encouragement. Once you began to twitch from oversensitivity, he pulls his fingers out of you only to bring them up to his lips and suck them clean. Both of you come crashing back to reality; however, when his beeper begins to go off. He lets out a huff as he pulls off of you and goes to retrieve the device from his coat. After checking the message, he begins to pick his scrubs off the floor and dress himself.  

“One of my patients is suffering from tachycardia and the nurse wants me to make sure it’s nothing serious” he explains.

“Oh, I understand that. You’re a doctor, there’s always going to be someone who needs your help,” you flash him a cheesy grin in response to his eyeroll. After he finishes dressing, he gathers your clothes off the floor and hands them to you and he grips you and kisses you one more time. He pulls away after nibbling on your bottom lip and walks over to the door. He shoots you once last glance as he unlocks the door.

“Since you say that, you know I’d be more than willing to offer my services to—help—you anytime,” he winks, and before you could respond, he disappears back into the hallway, leaving you dumbfounded but satisfied. You felt like a proud scientist after their hypothesis is proved correct. His hands really were talented for more than just medical purposes. With that lasting thought, you throw your clothes on and return to the desk outside, acting as if you had merely taken a short nap. A short nap that left you with a stupid grin on your face and swollen lips. Yeah, you would definitely be requiring the services of the overnight attending from now on.  

[psychopersonified]

Kidnapped!Q

Don’t we 00Q shippers love a good kidnapped!Q story. Here’s my take on an attempted kidnapping story. 

Available on AO3 look for handle Psychopersonified. 

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Friday 10:00am

The buildings’ security system pings his phone ::Lobby Alert:: 

Frowning, Q sets down the steaming mug of ginger tea. He was looking forward to the steam helping clear his congested sinuses. He’s developed a cold over the last couple of days, and medical sent him home yesterday for an early weekend.

He goes to the tablet mounted on the wall and pulls up the security feeds. There’s no one in the lobby which is a little strange. Movement in the next window catches his eye. It’s the hallway camera looking down the length of his floor, one of the lifts just opened and three men in paramedic uniform steps out. Curious. Who on his floor is requiring assistance? Wait, shouldn’t the doorman be escorting them? Belatedly he realises the men have stopped at his door...

They don’t even bother with a perfunctory knock. Q sees the police style door ram before he even hears the equipment colliding with his door. The door frame splinters inwards but holds. It is reinforced to buy him time but will not hold indefinitely. The loud crash sends a jolt of adrenaline into his sluggish system. 

He springs into action, punching the panic button on the wall next to the tablet. It should send a signal to police and MI6.  Q then grabs his MI6 laptop and turns it over. On the bottom is a red tab sticking out of a slot and he yanks at it - hard. It is the quick release mechanism for the hard drive - allowing the user to remove the hard drive quickly in an emergency. Pulling it also mechanically rips the chip from the board, damaging it hopefully beyond recovery. It also triggers a self destruct code in the laptop to wipe any remaining RAM. He designed the mechanism himself after the Istanbul fiasco and is now standard for all field issued laptops. 

He pockets the remains of the hard drive just in case along with his phone and runs into the bedroom. One of the windows here open to the fire escape. He looks around the room and grabs the nearest coat he sees.  

He makes it to the bottom of the fire escape just as the front door bursts open. Shit, shit, shit. He runs down the back alley and emerges onto the main street a block away - activating the tracking and distress signal on his watch as he does. 

His phone buzzes not even a minute later, he knows it is MI6. He swipes answer without hesitation. 

“Q? Are you alright? We received two distress beacons registered to you a few minutes ago.” He recognises R’s voice immediately. 

“Mayday, not a drill. Three assailants, they came in though the front door.” Q blurts out. The professional words belying the panic rising within. 

“Police are on their way as we speak. Where are you?”

“I’m no longer in my residence, hostiles in pursuit. Taking southbound route towards rendezvous point. Do you have me on camera?” He’s panting from the run. 

“Yes we see you.” That gives Q a little comfort. He needs to stay within view of the CCTVs. 

“The assailants?” Q inquires still running down the street. 

“Two on foot. Appears to be searching for you. Turning the corner.“

There is short crackle through the speakers and 007 joins the line. His comfortingly familiar voice comes over the phone,“Q? Stop running.”

“What??” Q’s chest is tight, his congested airways making it hard to breathe. The instruction is counterintuitive. 

“Stop running.” 007 repeats, Q recognises Bond’s tone of controlled annoyance. “Slow down. Walk at brisk pace. Put on the coat, it’ll disguise you.” 

Q complies. The coat is too big, it isn’t his. But that’s probably even better.

“Trust me, Q-..,” Bond assures, “..-that’s it. Good.” He must be watching the video feed. “At the next opportunity cross the street. Do not run. Do not look back. Keep your head down,” comes the next set of instructions from Bond.

“How much longer till the extraction team gets here? I don’t know if I can make it to the rendezvous point. I can hardly breathe,” his lungs are burning. The cold air not helping his already constricted airways.  

Q tries his best to follow Bond’s instructions. The temptation to look back and get a relative bearing on his assailants is overwhelming. But if he turns back, it will make it easier for them to spot him. 

“ETA 8 mins,” R supplies over the line.  

“We’re on our way, and police should be there before us,” Q can hear Bond’s voice sounding like he’s on the move; a few moments later, muffled sirens wail in the background. He wills himself to calm. Pulling in one stuttered breath at the time. 

Breathe, walk, repeat. Eight.minutes.more... 

A few minutes later, R pipes up, “Q, they’ve turned into the same street. 100 meters. Try and blend in with the crowd best you can.” Shit. Q turns up the collar on Bond’s coat to hide more of his face. 

“Q, do you have anything on you that can be used as a weapon?” 007 asks. 

Q checks his trouser pockets. There’s just the hard drive he pulled.. and a Waitrose receipt. The watch he’s wearing has no weapons capabilities. Then he pats down Bond’s coat- something slim and hard is in the inside pocket. He removes it. Its an unexpectedly heavy silver pen. 

“Umm… only things I have on me is the hard drive... my phone, my watch and your pen,” Q’s voice catches in desperation. 

“My pen?” Bond prompts for clarification. 

“Y…Yes. Silver pen in your navy wool coat. Off the back of the bedroom door.” Fuck. In the back of his mind, he’s mortified that he’s revealed something so personal over the comms. Their relationship isn’t a secret; its probably the worst kept secret in MI6 - but its not official either.  

R’s voice cuts in, “-50 meters… shit, looks like they are heading straight for you.” 

“Q...listen carefully. That pen is from Q-Branch. Recognise it?” Now that Bond has mentioned it, Q realises it does look familiar. The lack of air is not helping with his cognitive abilities. 

“Which one is it? Ss-sorry that was months ago. I can’t recall at the moment.” He really can’t, his head is starting to hurt. 

“Its alright... It’s the taser version.“ Bond’s voice is infuriatingly calm.

“30 meters,” R updates.

“Q…shift the pen to your dominant hand. Prime the pen, remember how you showed me? In a few moments, when you feel a hand on you, turn around and twist away perpendicular to where he’s coming from, jab the pen anywhere you can reach, the face or neck if you can-.”

“20 meters.” R’s tone is urgent now.

“...Then run as fast as you can in the direction you were going. We’re just coming up to the bottom of the street. Can you do that?“ 

No! - “Yes… turn, jab and run”. Q swaps the phone and pen in his hands. 

“10 meters.” 

“Get ready.” Bond’s voice is steel.

“NOW!” R’s warning shocks him into action.

Q ducks and twists around, the attacker barely has a grip on the collar of the coat. The action catches the attacker off-guard. Q then swings his arm around and jabs the pen under the man’s jaw, the tip lodging into the soft flesh there. A little more pressure and the pen discharges, sending the attacker spasming backwards and dropping him instantly. 

The motion throws Q off balance momentarily and he looses his grip; phone clattering to the ground. But he recovers an instant later. Q turns back and makes a run for it, pelting down the busy street as fast has he can. 

He can hear the screech of tyres and sirens up ahead. He sees a familiar dark green Range Rover and black Jaguar sedan skid to a stop, blocking the end of the street. 

So close. He looks back over his shoulder to see the second attacker just meters behind and gives his legs a last push. 

Ahead, he sees the doors of the vehicles fling open, agents swarming out. He doesn’t have time to slow down so he uses his momentum to launch himself over the bonnet of the Jag - sliding on his hip across it to land in a crouch on the other side, sandwiched between the Jag and Range Rover.

Behind him, he hears the sounds of punches and kicks being thrown. A choked groan of pain and a crunch of bones. Slightly further away, there’s the sound of agents calling out to a third assailant to stand down. 

He thinks to pear over the bonnet, but ducks again when he hears, “Get down!” followed by the rapid pop of gunshots. Then all hell breaks loose. People screaming and scattering causing absolute confusion. 

Over the gunfire, he hears, “Sir! Q! Get in!” An agent is standing over him and herding him towards the rear door of the Jag. 

He crouch-crawls his way to the back of the sedan keeping low. The agent shuts the heavy bulletproof door after him. A few seconds later another agent enters from the opposite door, throwing himself into the passenger seat next to Q and shutting the door. The Jag peels away immediately. 

Q exhales shakily after a minute. Finally taking stock of his surroundings. He can see Tanner’s familiar profile in the front driver seat, eyes on the road, weaving through traffic. 

“Alright?” the agent sitting next to him asks. Q turns his head, it’s Bond. Relief washes over him and it’s all he can do not to launch himself into Bond’s lap. He nods in acknowledgement.

Bond reaches across to squeeze his knee. The briefest of touches. He notices the fresh abrasions on the back of Bond’s knuckles. 

“Third assailant managed to escape. Police are in pursuit. The other two are in custody,” R’s voice comes over the speaker. 

“Received. Principle secured, we’re in transit.” Tanner replies. 

“R, do we know who they are yet? Links to anyone?” Bond asks.

“Nothing so far. Facial recognition is still running. CCTV shows an ambulance arriving outside Q’s building. The assailants posed as paramedics to gain entry. Once inside, they shot the plain-clothes police officer stationed there. They had a collapsible gurney with them too. We’re assuming that was how they intended to move Q once they’ve incapacitated him. It would not arouse suspicion.”  

Bond takes a deep breath, the only break in his cool and collected armour. Hearing the details was difficult. Too close. Too damned close.

The Jag pulls up at MI6, Tanner using the underground entrance. He parks the car in Mallory’s spot, close to the tunnel that houses the lifts, only then does Q realise the Jag is M’s government car. 

Tanner and Bond get out of the car. Bond crossing behind the car to open Q’s door. Q feels odd - his limbs sluggish, uncompliant and cold. Belatedly he thinks he’s in shock. It must have shown, because Bond reaches in to gently clamp his fingers around Q’s bicep and slowly help him out. 

They make it into the lift with Q increasingly leaning on Bond to keep himself standing. Why does his lungs still feel like they cant get enough air? 

The lift doors open and Q all but tumbles out into the lift lobby. His vision tunnels and the colours wash out. That’s the moment he crashes. 

“Q!” Bond lowers him onto the marble floor. Taking care to cushion his head.

Tanner is already on his phone, barking at medical to send a team, “Level 5 lobby stat!”

--------

Update: Part 2 here

Notes: Yes, prompted by that No Time to Die trailer. But this story doesn't take place in that universe so to speak. Was thinking to use this for the imaginary Q Netflix series I’m writing. 

If you’re interested: 

Series 1 Pilot here.

Series 2 Episode 1 & 2 here. And Episode 3.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 88

Sophia, the day after her conversation with Tyche.

Thank you to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for keeping me going and on an even keel! Sorry the Author’s Note is so short... I didn’t realize until I had about 10 mins before I had to be back at work that I forgot to queue this for today *facepalm*

The next day was an entire education on new places I could be sore. A hot shower and analgesics only took the barest edge off, and I ended up needing a transport to get to my office instead of my routine walk. I did my best to ignore the grin on Conor’s face every time I moved too fast and winced.  After the third time I scowled at him, I brought up my datapad and did some research, careful not to tap my legs as I gestured, which had become something of a habit.

 “That snot,” I gasped. Conor glanced at me, so I clarified. “Tyche had me doing fencing footwork yesterday…. Intermediate footwork, it turns out. No wonder I’m so sore.”

 “Least it wasn’t sparring,” he pointed out cheerfully, gently lifting my chin to get a look at my lip.  “You should have let Noah heal that, love.”

 I brushed my cheek against his hand. “I want the reminder. May even let her do it again once it heals.”

 This time, it was his turn to scowl. “Not funny.  That face has been bruised enough for one lifetime.” He gently rubbed my cheek as the transport stopped. “Okay, time to go be the boss.  No fighting with the other kids.”  Despite the joking tone, his eyes were serious as he leaned in to kiss me before he headed to his shift.

 I realized that Alistair not only beat me to work, but could apparently hear me groaning as I tried to walk, because the door opened before I was even within three feet of it.  True to form, he gave me an appraising look before his expression settled on my face. “Door get a bit mouthy today? Or did your feet decide you needed to stay home?”

 “Tyche punched me, actually.” My tone was light as I inched my way to my desk. “For defending myself. And then she decided I need more ways to defend myself, so now I can hardly move.”

 “Solid logic,” he deadpanned as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I feel obliged to point out that the coffee is hot, seeing as you display a disturbing propensity to get hurt.”

 “Very funny.”

 “You have been warned, et cetera, so on, so forth.” He waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned, bringing up my agenda for the day. “Your first meeting is the one to discuss medical testing ethics, criteria for volunteers, and determination of the necessity of the procedures. Then you have time set aside to review the status of the Galactic Core Curriculum, along with proposals for expanded learning topics and their existing analogues in the education systems of other planets - “ He paused and tilted his head. “I will never cease to be caught off guard when sentences like that exist.”

 I restrained the urge to nod - or more accurately, my back twinged with a warning not to even consider it. “Believe me, I understand. Noah and I were talking about other species a few weeks ago. Did you know there is a species of avians out there who essentially live on a planet with no surface atmosphere?”

 “The Preeyar, yes,” he sighed wistfully. “Knowing that Fermi was simply impatient has been quite eye-opening, so to speak.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” I conceded. “We were too young for extraterrestrial civilizations, we weren’t listening properly, they apparently weren’t trying to contact us until recently…  But they do exist.” A smile crept on my face at the idea that we really hadn’t been alone in the universe.

My office door opened without warning, and a familiar voice chimed in as Alistair turned with clenched fists. “I do argue that we are entirely too dangerous to have been contacted.” Arthur Farro stood leaning against the frame, and Alistair relaxed marginally. “At least we were until relatively recently…. Throwing nuclear ordinance at each other the moment killing each other in the thousands - rather than the millions - stopped scratching that vicious itch. Who does that?  We’re like demented eight-year-olds who got bored of burning ants and started setting each other’s hair on fire instead.”

“You really should keep that door secured,” my assistant sniffed as he closed out my agenda, right around the time he caught Arthur squinting at it.

“He has the code,” I admitted.

“Or maybe that was accidental,” our resident history teacher continued, ignoring us. “I’m a big fan of assuming stupidity instead of malice where possible.  And, dear lord, does our track record make it plausible.”  Finally entering the room, he flicked a finger at my face. “That was not, however.”

Before I could stop him, Alistair took one glance between me and my friend, and strode to the door. “No.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ll clear your calendar. No. Have a good day.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arthur asked as the door closed behind my soon-to-be-ex assistant.

“That he’s a coward,” I muttered.

“You know damned well that’s not what I mean.”

“Tyche already decked me.” I gestured at my split lip and the bruise that bloomed on my chin overnight. “So, yeah, I know - “

“No, you really don’t seem to.”

“Arthur, stop.”

“I will not.” He stepped forward and placed both his hands, palms down, on my desk.  He knew I hated that gesture. “Bjornson’s entire narrative hinges on you being more dangerous than anyone realizes, and you putting up a display of false helplessness to make everyone trust you.  By decking one of his followers, not only did you show that you do, in fact, have violence in you - meaning that it’s now entirely plausible you’re as Machiavellian as they claim - but you’ve also gone and indicated for whatever reason that Jokull is enough of a threat to drop that premise.” Straightening, he crossed his arms in clear disappointment. “If you wanted to give him more credibility, good job. You succeeded.”

I swallowed every bit of hurt I felt at his words, reminding myself they were nowhere near as barbed as the ones Tyche had given me the day before. Instead, I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you done? Did you say everything you needed to say?” I paused, giving him a chance to respond. When he didn’t, I poked harder. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly, but big picture? I’m not a terribly gleeful person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But yes, it is your turn now.”

“Gracious of you,” I cooed sarcastically.  “Tyche made the same points yesterday, after punching me in the face, with the added gravitas of a guilt trip served with that special seasoning of having watched me almost die and thinking I abandoned her as a child. Also three hours with a rapier, whipping my ass. So. Far more impressive, I assure you.”

“Foiled again by the smaller Reid,” he sighed dramatically before catching himself.  “Rapier, you say? I was going to say no pun intended, but I’ve decided I did that on purpose. Yep. Totally intentional.”

I rolled my eyes before pulling up my tunic to show the bruises on my midriff. “I’m not very good at it, for the record.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, saber’s a better style anyway.  And I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, not entirely convinced. “As far as Bjornson… seriously. She gave me the scoop.  I seriously fubared the entire situation yesterday.  Apparently, our suspected cult leader only believes in physical attacks on those who would defend themselves. No honor in beating a beaten foe, et cetera.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he nodded, like I was a student he was letting reach her own conclusion.

“Which means I just made it open season on Sophias,” I groaned.

“Really, saber is much better for brawling tactics,” he hedged.

I laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t matter.  My walking privileges are revoked until further notice. Must be accompanied by one of six people, or two out of another ten, and on a transport.” The last word came out like a profanity.  It was a known fact I hated using them.

Hence why I was now being forced to, unfortunately.

“If you think there is any possibility that I’m going to argue against Tyche on that decision, I need to talk to her about that head scan,” he told me pointedly. “Then again, you and I have different definitions of the word ‘think’, but I’ll be clear - it’s not happening.  Moving target, faster than a walking pace, with a protective attachment? Which roster am I on, again?”

“Very funny. You already know.”

His expression softened slightly when he realized I was actually upset. “There is some good news in all of this.”

I threw up my hands and spun in my chair. “Oh, do tell, great military historian and warlord. What is the shining silver lining to the fact that I just gave a man who thinks I am the only thing standing between him and his New Start a golden ticket to sic his followers on me?”

“Okay, first off, sassy shit, my main career is a school teacher. I only moonlighted as a warlord to pay those apocalypse bills. Not my fault I was good at it.” Suddenly, he got serious. “The good new is, if he was too stupid to realize that your talent for inspiring loyalty meant you were a massive problem for any takeover plan, and a problem he’d have to deal with sooner or later….. Well, he’s probably too stupid to keep his little cult together much longer.  Leaders who don’t recognize more than one kind of strength never manage to build a lasting legacy.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…” I said, half to myself.

“Yeah, our guy is no Ramses II,” Arthur replied.  “Besides, those who seek power are rarely good at keeping it.”

“I would have given him my seat on the Council if he’d just asked,” I admitted.

“Besides the fact that you literally just proved my point, if he was suited to the Council, he’d be on it.  It’s not like you were the only candidate.”

I shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t even know I was on the Council for the first week. I think it was a week.”

When I turned to look at him, I was met with a flat stare. “I know it was explained to you at some point.  How does that search function work?” He reached forward like he was going to tap my head before I swatted his hand away. “You were appointed to the Council to replace Simon, you represent a specific population on board the Ark, when we arrive at Von, you will serve an additional two planetary standard years before elections are held, of which you cannot be a candidate….”

Ugh. “I was put forward as a recommendation by Simon. The other Councillors put forward their candidates. The population I represent voted based on my personnel file, since no one even knew any of the candidates at that point. We’d only been on the Ark about six months. Some of us, anyway.” Glaring, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a feeling I’m going to kill someone.”

He waved a hand at me in a very familiar gesture. “I see other people do it all the time. Jog your memory, and some phrase or word triggers it.  Cool to watch, though.” With a shrug, he continued. “Point is, Bjornson wasn’t even a candidate, same as me.”

“How do you know that?” I asked incredulously.

“Fuck, Sophia. You really need to keep track of your constituents.”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be a - Wait. You are one of my so-called ‘constituents’!?”

“Even voted for you,” he grinned.  “Didn’t know it was you-you, but… Communications background, peaceful but intelligent attributes to balance out our resident warhawk, fair enough to offset Huynh, and you seemed like the type to actually listen to Grey, Pranav, and Eino.” He shrugged. “To be fair, I was right.”

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[bitionraingang]

One Leads to Another

THIS IS FOR MY BEST FRIEND! hope everyone enjoys it! There will be a part 2!!

Changmo X Double K X OC

It’s been weeks since I found out my now ex boyfriend had been cheating on me for 2 of the 3 years we’ve been together. I ran out of our shared apartment with all of my belongings and crashed at my best friend’s house.

“Alright. So today, we are going to party our asses off okay?” She asked.

“Hell yeah. I need this.” I replied while slipping on my little black dress. This dress is perfect, it isn’t revealing, but hug and accentuates all my curves.

I gave one last look in the mirror before turning around.

“Damnn… you look smoking hot Y/n.” Chang IIl, my friend said while eyeing me. It was pretty normal for our group of friends to throw suggestive jokes around at each other, until I became part of a committed relationship which didn’t matter anymore.

“Thanks, but I’m not reserved for you today.” I said slipping on my heels.

Chang Ill walked behind me and put his groin against my bent ass and wrapped his hands around my waist to pull me up after I strapped the heels onto my ankles.

“You sure you don’t want to be with me tonight?” He whispered into my ear while teasing me.

“Chang Ill we all know how many girls you’ve been with. There’s no way I’m letting you in me.” I replied while laughing and prying his hands away from my body.

He gave a peck on my temple and said, “Well you know I’m always open for you to have me.”

“Nu uh, not a chance.” I replied while walking towards Joonkyung, who held my purse. He helped me sling the purse into my shoulder and pulled me into a side hug.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked.

Joonkyung was my brother from another mother to me. He was always there when I needed help. He was the best friend that I ran to after finding out about my ex boyfriend’s wrongdoings.

“Yeah, thanks to you as always.” I said returning the hug.

“Are ya’ll done?! I wanna leave!” Deok Kwang yelled from the bottom of the steps.

We were seated at the usual V.I.P. rooms thanks to the famous boys. Right away we got started with some drinks. After taking a few sips of my drink, I turned to Joonkyung who was conversing with one of the call girls.

“Joonkyung, I’m going downstairs to dance a little bit.”

His arms fell from the girl’s shoulders and grabbed onto my waist.

“Want me to go with you?” He asked.

I pushed the few strands of hair that blocked his eyes and shook my head.

“I’ll be good. Have fun.” I replied.

The bass in the song was so strong that I couldn’t help but to move my body freely along the upbeat music. Within a few minutes, I was joined by a group of girls and guys who wanted to dance with me. We all bopped along to the music. It felt so good to let myself loose after such a long time. As I took a sip of the drink in my hand, I felt a warm pair of hands land on the middle of my stomach. I turned around to see if it was Joonkyung who had come to check up on me, but I was shocked to see someone with bright silver hair.

“Hey, I’ve been watching you dance since you got here and wanted to know if I can join you.” He “whispered” loudly over the booming music.

I was so shocked to see one of my favorite rappers of all time behind me, holding onto me, and asking if he can dance with me. “Oh my gosh! Aren’t you Changmo?!” I asked, somewhat shouting so he was able to hear me.

He nodded and gave me a big smile. I placed my hands on his and rocked my body against his. As we danced against each other, it felt surreal. I was dancing with the man who I’ve only listened to on my Spotify Premium account.

“You want to talk for a bit?” Changmo asked into my ear which sent shivers down my spine. I nodded and grabbed onto the hand that he was holding out for me to take.

He brought me to a secluded room that seemed to be near the room I came from. We sat next to each other as a waiter brought another glass of drinks for us.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked.

“I’m Y/n.” I replied.

“Well, I’m Changmo. As you know. I just wanted to get to know a beautiful person like you.” He said while tracing his fingers on my forearm.

“Is that what you say to all the girls you want in your pants?” I questioned laughing.

“No, I usually don’t have the courage to do this.” He replied somewhat sincerely.

I gave him a flirtatious smile and said,

“Well, you’re doing a good job in trying to have me want you.”

He returned the smile and shifted closer to me.

“Well then is it okay for me to give you a preview with my lips?”

“Just keep in mind I have high expectations.” I said smiling and then leaned in to close the gap between us.

The next morning, I woke up with my head buried in his warm chest.

“Told you that preview I would be worth it.” He groaned making me chuckle.

“Wait. Changmo.” I said abruptly pulling away.

“Yeah?” He asked, eyes widened.

“You didn’t know wear a condom… You’re clean right?” I asked warily. I always wore a condom, not just to avoid pregnancy, but in case of exposing myself to diseases.

“I’ll get you a morning after pill. Sorry about that I completely forgot.” He said trying to pull me into his arms again.

“No, I’m on birth control so that’s okay, but I’m asking about other things. You don’t have anything right?” I asked.

He chuckled, “Sorry, no one’s ever asked me that before. But yes, I am clean. You’re the first person I’ve ever had slept with without a condom.”

“Okay, just making sure because I always do, but I completely forgot as well.” I said easing back into his arms.

“Are you clean?” He asked teasingly.

I lightly slapped his arms, “you think I would’ve asked if I wasn’t?”

I closed my eyes feeling tired from the intense workout while Changmo continued holding me and placing kisses on my face.

“You give so many kisses to a person you’ve just met.” I said without opening my eyes.

“I usually don’t, but I can’t help it.” He replied.

After a tiresome day, I made my way to Chang Ill’s studio.

Hey.” I said slumping down on the sofa.

Without turning away from the computer screen, he humphed a hey back.

“Are you working on a new song?” I asked.

“Yeah I got a sudden inspiration.” He answered.

As if he remembered something, his body jumped and swiftly turned to face me behind him.

“What?” I asked without opening my eyes.

‘Where’d you go yesterday?”

“You could never guess…” I said while sighing.

“Did you go home with Changmo?”

My eyes popped open and I jumped up, “how’d you know?”

He nodded with a grin, like a parent proud of their child’s achievements and said, “I have my ways.”

And just like that, our lives went on. Changmo lived his own. I lived my own. That was until I got sick. And I mean very, very sick.

“Ugh… I didn’t even eat anything… why am I like this…” I groaned against my pillow.

“Chang Ill is bringing medicine and porridge for you so hold onfor a bit.” Joonkyung said while brushing my hair that was sticking to my forehead.

“Did you sleep without the A.C. on?” He asked.

“No… I don’t know why I’m like this.” I replied.

“Since when did you say?”

“Maybe like two days after the day we went out? I think..” I groaned once again feeling like throwing up.

“And you haven’t eaten properly since that day, right?” He asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” I said and got up to run to the bathroom once again.

Joonkyung followed behind me and patted my back as I tried to release the toxicity in my body.

“Y/n… you said you guys didn’t use a condom right?”

With a big frown, I looked up at Joonkyung and said, “Joonkyung, I’m on birth control. I’ve been on it for the past 3 years, since I was with Dong Hae.”

“You do know birth control isn’t 100% effective.”

“That’s like 1 out of a million. There’s no way that it could happen to me.”

With a concerned look, Joonkyung shook his head. “That 1 could be anyone.”

My body stiffened at that thought and I could feel my blood rushing to my heart rapidly. Biting my lips I walked out of the bathroom and over to the nightstand where my phone rested.

“Chang Ill.”

“Hey, you okay? I’ll be there soon. I’m like 10 mins away.”

“Bring a pregnancy test too.”

“Fuck. Are you being ser-” and I hung up. Joonkyung walked over to me and pulled me into a hug. Tears slowly escaped my eyes as dug myself deeper into his warmth.

I stood in front of the mirror, just staring at my reflection. I was too afraid to look at the test.

“Y/n.” I heard Joonkyung’s voice from the other side of the bathroom door. My head turned towards the door, but I couldn’t say anything.

“Did you take a look?” He continued.

My head whipped towards the pregnancy test that sat on top of the closed toilet.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

Taking a deep breath, I slowly picked up the stick and took a look.

“Y/n. Answer please.”

My heart dropped at the two big red lines that stuck out on the white stick.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.” I chanted roaming back and forth in the bathroom.

The banging on the door became louder.

“Y/n?! Open up! Open the door! Changmo! Look for the bathroom keys in the kitchen drawer!” Joonkyung shouted.

“Y/n, it’s okay. Just let me in okay?” He begged. My hand was shaking as I continued to stare at the stick that changed my life. Why hadn’t I used a condom? But I was on birth control. But if I had a condom, I wouldn’t be like this. My reflection in the mirror showed my disheveled hair, shaky body, with tears falling freely to my chin. The door to the bathroom jiggled open and came in a rushing Joonkyung and Chang Ill. They knew the test was positive from my current state and pulled me into a hug. I was crying in the arms of Joonkyung as Chang Ill brushed my hair out of my face.

“We’ll be here for you no matter what okay?” Joonkyung whispered.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Chang Ill added.

It’s been 3 days since I’ve found out about my pregnancy. Joonkyung and Chang Ill stayed over at my house since the day I found out. I was taking in the truth better than the previous days. I still couldn’t eat, but Chang Ill forced me to for the sake of the baby in my womb.

“How are you today?” Chang Ill asked.

“I’m feeling better… thank you Chang Ill.” I said while gripping his hand.

“Hey, no need to thank. It’s what friends do.” He said giving me a hug.

“Are you going to tell Changmo?” He asked.

“I don’t even know his number… And it was a one night stand. He wouldn’t want a child from a one night stand.”

“I could try to get you in contact with him. And he deserves to know even if you decide to get rid of it.”

“Chang Ill, I know that, but what if he says to get rid of it? I don’t want to live with the fact that I got an abortion and an innocent baby died because of my or his selfishness. I’m not getting rid of the baby.”

He sighed with a look of relief and gave me another hug.

“I was so scared that you would say you wanted to get an abortion. Oh God. I feel my legs shaking.”

“You’re not the one pregnant or even the father.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, but I’m going to be the Godfather.” He replied.

“Uhh… that’s Joonkyung.” I joked.

“Hey!” He said pulling away from the hug.

“Just kidding, of course it’s both of you.” I said smiling.

“There’s that shining smile.” He said poking my cheeks.

Four months have passed and I was entering my second trimester. I haven’t met Changmo since that day and I was somehow able to convince Joonkyung and Chang Ill to not let Changmo know because I was afraid that he would make me abort my baby or take it away from me. Joonkyung was busy with his new album so these days I was hanging out with Chang Ill more. There were rumors that Chang Ill was becoming a father since he was seen so often with me shopping for baby supplies. Luckily, my face was not released to the public. There only were pictures of Chang Ill with a lady that looked pregnant occasionally joined by Joonkyung. Since the weather was still warm in late September, I had a thin shirt with a loose cardigan.

“Chang Ill, what do you think about this?” I asked raising a pair of baby Jordans.

“That’s so cute!” He replied with a giddy expression.

“Let me get it for you.” He said taking it out of my hands.

“No, you already bought so much for us! I want to buy it!” I exclaimed.

“But Coco is my first godson. Of course I have to buy it.” Chang Ill whined.

“I told you his nickname is Peach! Not Coco!” I said while smacking his hand away.

“I think Coco is cuter.” He said as he skillfully took the Jordans out of my hands and ran to the register.

“Chang Ill!” I yelled slightly as I finally caught up to him. He gave me a grin as I smacked his back.

“For my baby, anything.” He said giving me a side hug.

We were headed for my favorite ramen shop for dinner as Changmo got a call from his boss, Dong Gab

“Chang Ill, can you come into the office right now?” He asked.

“Umm, I’m actually out with Y/n right now and we’re getting dinner right now. Is it okay if I go in a little later?”

“Actually, can you both drop by? It’s important.”

“With Y/n? I can -”

“We’ll be there soon oppa.” I said cutting off Chang Ill.

“Alright, thanks see you.” Dong Gab said before hanging up.

“Y/n, we already know what this is going to be about. You’re pregnant. It’s only going to stress you out.” Chang Ill said looking back and forth from the road to me.

“Chang Ill , I’ll be fine. Dong Gab oppa isn’t going to yell at me or anything. Don’t worry. I’m stronger than you think.” I said trying to lift his worries.

He sighed loudly before saying, “Wait. Oppa? Dong Gab oppa? Yah! I’m older than you and Dong Gab, but you never call me oppa! Why is Dong Gab an oppa to you?”

I chuckled and said, “That’s because mentally, you’re younger than me!” which resulted in a pouty Chang Ill driving to 1llionaire Records.

“Hey Dong Gab oppa. How have you been?” I asked as he welcomed me with a hug.

“Good. What about you? How’s the baby?” He asked as we sat down.

“Peach is -” I started before I was cut off by Chang Ill shouting,

“Coco!” I glared at him before continuing,

“PEACH is good. He’s 4 months now, half way through!”

“That’s good.” Dong Gab said smiling.

“I called you guys in because right now there’s a video of you two going around at a shoe store buying baby shoes and Chang Ill called the baby his baby. And fans are going crazy right now.” He continued.

“A video? At a shoe store? That was literally 30 minutes ago.” Chang Ill exclaimed.

“Yeah, and Y/n, you’re face was revealed in the video. I’m trying my best to have lawyers take it down immediately, but then again because you were with someone famous, and it was taken in public, it might be hard to.” Dong Gab sighed.

Feeling overwhelmed at the situation, I took in a deep breath.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

“No, you’re not revealing yourself to the public. Your face was enough.” Chang Ill said. If I were to come out and explain my situation, then 1) I would be telling everyone in Korea that I am a single mother 2) I would get backlash about being a single mother 3) I would get backlash about being a scandalous woman… the list could go on and on.

“Chang Ill’s right Y/n. There’s no need for you to expose yourself to the public. We’ll do that for him, but as for you, try to stay on the downlow and don’t hang around together in public too much.” Dong Gab said with a concerned look.

Chang Ill and I nodded as we drifted into our own thoughts before it was interrupted by Dong Gab’s million dollar question.

“Are you planning on telling Changmo?”

I froze and just stared blankly back at him. Changm Ill instead answered,

“She doesn’t want to because she’s afraid he might tell her to get an abortion or take the baby away from her.”

Dong Gab nodded before adding, “But you don’t know that… shouldn’t you at least try? If it doesn’t go well, you know we’ll all be here to make things right for you.”

“That’s not the only reason.” I started.

“What if he thinks I did that to him on purpose? Or like I’m lying about him being the dad, but want him to take responsibility? I don’t want to become a pathetic person.” I said finally letting out my true feelings.

Dong Gab got up to sit beside me and gave me a hug.

“You’ve got it all wrong. Look at you, you’re 4 months pregnant right now and you didn’t tell the father. He should know then you didn’t do it on purpose or that you’re trying to force him to be responsible for a baby that’s not his. Changmo is smarter than that.”

So somehow, I was now in front of Changmo’s studio. Chang Ill palmed my cheeks and lifted my head so I could meet his eyes.

“No matter what happens, remember that I will always be here for you. That includes Joonkyung, Dong Gab, everyone. Okay?”

I nodded and stirred up a smile so that he wouldn’t be too worried. One part of me wanted Changmo to accept the baby and become a responsible father. The other part of me wanted to turn around, go home, and hide in my bed covers.

“I’ll be out here so don’t worry. Call me if you need me.” He said lightly turning my body towards the door.

I stepped in and was faced with a young lady who was managing the front desk.

“Hi, how can I help you?” She asked.

“Hi, I’m here to meet Changmo.”

“Are you the new program’s producer? Did you make an appointment with him?” She continued.

“Umm… no. I need to speak to him as soon as possible for a private matter. Is it poss-”

“Honey, you’re not the first to try this tactic. If you really want to meet him, make sure you buy tickets to the next concert.” She said while shaking her head.

“No, I do know him personally. I just wasn’t able to get in contact with him privately.”

“Well, maybe that means he doesn’t want to speak with you. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She replied getting up from her seat.

“No, please. Can you just tell him Y/n is here to speak to him. He’ll know. Plea-”

“Y/n?” A familiar voice cut me off.

“Changmo!” I exclaimed.

“Hey, how you’ve been?” He asked while reaching out for a hug.

“Could’ve been better…” I said while returning the hug with my side, trying to avoid hugging him with my stomach that was bulging out.

“What brings you here?” He continued.

“I’m actually here to see you. I need to speak to you, is that okay?” I asked lightly grabbing his fingers.

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go to a cafe in the front.” He said taking my hand into his own.

“No, let me!” I said trying to push him out of the way from the register.

“No, no. I want to treat you.” He said blocking the view. Rolling my eyes, I turned around to grab a table.

To be continued......

[shawnstoriesx]

Bear Pt 1

hello! this is my first time writing so I hope you enjoy it ! any feedback would be appreciated!

I also rlly like angst so this is a lil angsty lol

YN parked her car and started on the short walk to her shared apartment. It was late in the evening on Friday, YN choosing to stay behind at the university library to finish up her notes and start on an essay instead of going straight home. It was only Week 2 of the her 2nd year and she was already being bombarded with assignments. All she wanted to do was recuperate over the weekend, take a much deserved nap nap, spend the Friday night in watching Netflix.

However, as soon as she pushed the door to her apartment in, YN was met with loud music and the sight of her roommate and 3 other girls she didn’t recognize running around the room, putting on makeup and pregaming. They were dressed for a night out in shorts and tank tops and were already in the mood, dancing along to the music Upon hearing the door open, Alexa turned around and gave YN a warm grin before pulling her towards the small group of girls, urging her to dance with them.

“Go out with us YN! You deserve a night out!” Alexa yelled as she pretended to grind up on YN.

YN chuckled before giving her friend a playful shove. “Nah I’m drained I’d rather spend the night in. You guys have fun though” YN responded.

After a couple more minutes of Alexa unsuccessfully trying to convince YN to come, Alexa and the other girls left while YN was sitting on the couch, trying to decide what movie to watch.

YN and Alexa had just met this year after YN responded to Alexa’s post about needing a roommate to split the apartment rent with. They had different personalities and interests but were still able to get along fine, instantly clicking with each other when they first met up to decide whether or not they were a good match. YN was definitely more reserved and introverted while Alexa was very outgoing and loved surrounding herself with people. Everywhere Alexa went, she always had a group of people following her. They seemingly worshipped Alexa and why shouldn’t they? YN’s roommate was kind, funny, inviting, and not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Alexa was a natural beauty. She really was the total package and YN was grateful that she was able to find such a great roommate.

After finally finding a movie and reheating last nights dinner, YN made herself comfortable on the couch. Just as the movie was starting, she heard a ding from her phone. It was a text from Shawn, her childhood best friend.

“Going to the club tonight w some friends. Wanna come? I’ll pick u up”

They’d been inseparable since middle school but with YN attending university and Shawn taking a gap year to travel before going to community college, they had seen less of each other. This didn’t affect the friendship at all though. They still talked regularly and were still the bestest of friends. YN just missed seeing his face but now that he was finally starting community college nearby, the two planned on seeing each other much more often.

Just as YN was about to respond no, Shawn sent another message.

“Hoping to find a girl tonight ;-) need my wingwoman”

YN’s heart dropped just a little bit. YN had always had a teeny tiny crush on Shawn. And why wouldn’t she? Shawn was handsome and kind and treated her like no other guy ever had. The crush she had was never serious though and she knew that she and Shawn were too good of friends to ever see each other in that way. Regardless, YN couldn’t help but get jealous whenever he talked about one of his previous girlfriends and every once in while imagined herself to be the person receiving all of Shawn’s affection. That couldn’t hurt right?

“no lol I don’t think me being there is gonna help you get a girl. I can’t work miracles” she responded. She could already imagine the laugh that Shawn probably let out after reading that text, deep and warm.

Shawn and her quickly caught up through text until he suddenly stopped responding mid conversation. That was odd. Even when he was busy or at a party, Shawn would always respond to her texts as soon as possible. Or at least with just a “ttyl”

“His phone probably died” YN thought and she resumed her movie.

As she was getting ready to go to bed early, another notification popped up on her phone. Thinking it was Shawn, YN rushed to her bedside where her phone was charging.

“Oh” YN couldnt help but let out a disappointed sigh. It was just a text from her roommate.

“Bringing home a guy I met at the club. Text me if u have a problem w that”

“Great...” YN thought. She was a little uncomfortable with it but it wasn’t that big of a problem, at least Alexa asked her beforehand.

“Yea no problemo. keep it down tho ;-)” she quickly typed before falling into her bed and was fast asleep within 10 min.

The next morning, YN woke up refreshed and alert. Wanting to make use of this energy, YN quickly brushed her teeth and changed into her workout clothes, a gym tank and some running shorts. YN hadn’t worked out much before (okay she didn’t work out at all outside of PE) but freshmen 15 really did a number on her and since then, YN has made an effort to exercise more often. She speed walked out of her room and to the kitchen to grab a banana and her keys, barely noticing the person standing in the kitchen until she heard her name.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice called out.

She looked up to see the confused face of her best friend, Shawn Mendes. standing in her kitchen. in nothing but boxers. with hickeys all over his neck.

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” YN shouted, confusion and bewilderment obvious in her voice.

“Uh well...” Shawn started sheepishly, a blush creeping up in his cheeks, before he was cut off by Alexa opening the door with a box of bagels in her hand.

Suddenly, everything was making sense to YN. Alexa came home with Shawn last night. Her Shawn. And they had sex with her sleeping peacefully in the next room. To say YN was completely and utterly shocked was an understatement.

It’s been a couple weeks since that morning and Shawn was a common sight now in the apartment. But he wasn’t there to hang out with YN. He was there for Alexa. They started seeing each other after that night and although it wasn’t official, it seemed that Shawn only had time for her, not for his best his best friend of 8 years. First it was cancelled hangouts. Then he just stopped responding to her texts. And now, they were lucky to even exchange anything beyond a quick greeting whenever YN came home after a late night studying to see Shawn and Alexa curled on the couch together.

“You wanna grab some boba really quick YN?” Shawn asked. Shawn and Alexa were headed to the movies later tonight but Alexa got caught up at work and was going to be an hour late and he was already at the apartment.

“Nah I’m busy” YN said begrudgingly. And she really was. She had to catch up on her readings but she also really didn’t feel like talking to Shawn right now after he had so easily forgotten about her after meeting Alexa.

“You’re always too busy now, we never hang anymore” Shawn whined, walking behind her and wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

O so now he has time for YN now that Alexa isn’t here.

“I’m not the one who’s been cancelling our hangouts to spend time with his girlfriend” YN retorted, her voice tight as she tried to focus on the textbook in front of her. She felt Shawn shift his body and could tell that he was trying to get a read on her face.

“Hey...that was mean. And that’s not true, you cancel because you’re busy with your classes too you know” Shawn replied. A frown was obvious on his face as he tried to figure out why YN’s mood changed so quickly.

Believing it to be a result of stress from her workload, Shawn grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of her chair, enveloping her in a big hug. YN tried to fight her way out but it was no use. He was too strong, his broad arms wrapping around her frame completely. The smell of his cologne relaxed her and she gave in, resting her head in the crook of his neck and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I miss you, YN. Please come with me” he whispered sincerely, lips ghosting over her ear. I mean, when he asked like that, how could she ever say no. A slight blush bloomed on her cheeks as she slowly nodded her head, eyes not meeting his.

YN quickly found a table in the crowded boba shop while Shawn ordered and paid for their drinks at the counter. Within a few minutes, Shawn was seated across from her. Taking a sip from their drinks, an awkward silence loomed over them.

Eager to break free of the silence, YN spoke first, hoping that her tone masked how sad she was that YN and Shawn were no longer talking as easily as they had before. “So how are you and Alexa?”

At the sound of Alexa’s name, Shawn instantly piped up, a smile growing across his face. “She’s absolutely amazing YN. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about her before.”

He went on and on about how great Alexa was and YN couldn’t help but feel sad. But she was happy for him and Alexa nonetheless. At least they were happy together, even though she was still alone.

“And I still can’t believe she’s just as into Harry Potter as we are. You and Alexa are like the same person.”

A confused look took over YN’s face. “Wait what?” YN cut in.

“O I was just talking about how similar you two are. You share all the same interests: Harry Potter, Hozier, hiking.”

That was definitely odd. When she and Alexa first met up, YN distinctly remembers that they didn’t share many interests at all. “Maybe Alexa picked up those interests along the way while trying to get to know YN. Alexa was sweet like that” YN thought.

“Are you okay YN” Shawn said. The concern in his voice bringing YN back to the present

“O yea sorry lost in thought.” YN chuckled.

“O okay then..”Shawn started. “I wanted to ask you a question.” His voice took on a serious tone. “How do you feel about me asking Alexa to be my girlfriend?”

YN choked on the pearls she was drinking. She and Shawn both shared a nervous chuckle.

“I’m asking because we’re best friends and it must be kinda weird for me to date your roommate and...”

“I’m fine. Why would it bother me. Happy for you two” YN quickly retorted, giving a shallow smile.

Shawn gave one of his goofy grins where his entire face seemed to be smiling. His eyes crinkled and his face just lit up and it made YN’s heart race.

She missed that smile but this time, Shawn wasn’t smiling because of her. He was probably thinking about Alexa. And that crushed YN. She didn’t know why. She had never been this jealous with Shawn’s girlfriends before. Maybe it’s because this time, YN personally knew the girl. Maybe it’s because this time, YN knew that it only took Shawn one night at the club to fall for Alexa while it’s been nearly 8 years with YN and he’s only ever seen her as a friend.

YN could feel the tears pooling at her eyes and she quickly tried to hide them by bringing the sleeve of her hoodie up. But Shawn was already staring deep into her eyes and noticed the tears right away.

“YN are you okay? Honey...”

Honey. That was his childhood nickname for her ever since they made far fetched plans in 3rd grade to live in the forest together. YN would be a gardener and collect honey for Shawn, her pet bear. She was his Honey and he was her Bear and they used to refer to each other with these nicknames whenever possible, mostly as a joke because of how domestic it made them feel. But upon hearing this nickname again, YN suddenly realized how it’s been a long time since she last heard him call her that. Ever since he met Alexa.

Her body turned cold and her face became stiff at the thought. She stopped tearing up but her eyes were still glossy. “Yea I’m fine. Just tired.” she sighed.

He stood up and cupped his large hands around her face, holding her face under the deep gaze of his chocolate brown eyes. “Cut the crap YN. What’s up? You’ve been distant and Alexa and I are worried about you.”

Avoiding his eyes, her gaze fell on the door of the shop just as Alexa came in, looking fresh and bright in a short dress. A stark contrast to YN’s hoodie and jeans combo with dried tears. Of course Shawn would fall for Alexa and not her. Alexa was perfect. Perfect personality. Perfect looks.

Alexa quickly spotted the two, with Shawn’s hands cupped around YN’s face. YN didn’t know if she was imagining it but she could’ve sworn that she saw Alexa’s eyebrows raise and a look of contempt or hate cross her face before it was quickly replaced by a perfect smile.

“I’m fine Shawn. Alexa’s here and I really should go.” YN responded dryly. She pushed away Shawn’s warm hands, cheeks instantly feeling cold from the loss of contact, and collected her things.

“Whatcha doing?” Alexa chirped after landing a quick kiss to Shawn.

“I was just about to leave. You two have fun.” YN said quickly, already walking away before she had completed the sentence.

YN could hear Shawn calling out to her and imagined that he was running up to her, about to pull her into one of his big bear hugs that never failed to lift her spirits. But that daydream was quickly cut short by Alexa’s whining that they were going to miss the movie. YN continued to walk back to her apartment, still hoping that Shawn would run up to her any minute to check on her and make sure she was alright. By the time she reached the door to her apartment, YN turned around. Just to check if Shawn was a little behind from her brisk pace. But the walkway was just empty.

YN was just alone.

[peytonhudson]

Daddy || Peychuck

tagging: @thepuckrmn & @peytonhudson

time frame: valentines day night

location: puck’s tattoo shop

notes: puck is soft. 

puck

Puck managed to kick out all of his employees 15 mins before Peyton was supposed to show up. He felt bad lying to her, but it was for a good cause. Puck had told her that he was slammed at work but that she should swing by later to watch him work and get a drink after. What she didn’t know was that he had completely transformed the back room into their own private date night. Candles were scattered around the room, giving it a soft glow. Puck made sure to get all of her favorite food, including Devon-delivered cheese fries. He set the bottle of champagne in ice and did a final walk through of the room. Hearing the bell from the front door ring, he grabbed the bouquet of roses and stood up in front of the set up, blocking her view. “Hey babe,” he said with a smile. Handing her the roses, he stepped aside to reveal the decorated back room. “Surprise!”

peyton

Peyton had fallen in love with Puck knowing who he was. She was the cheesy one in their whatevership, and it really didn’t bother her that he wasn’t into Valentine’s Day. She just wanted to spend time with him — plus she’d blown up his phone all day with romantic puns so it wasn’t as though she didn’t get to be cheesy. Once Lexi was at her mom’s, Peyton picked up the large heart shaped chocolate box she had filled with miniature alcohol bottles instead of chocolate and made the now very familiar trip to Puck’s shop. Her smile brightened when she saw him standing in the middle of his empty shop with the roses in hand. “Hey baby,” she greeted him happily, moving up to him and pressing a quick loving kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute, and I-“ Peyton’s words drifted and her eyes widened as Puck moves to the side to show the transformed back room. “Oh my god,” She breathed out as she took a step forward to look at all the effort he had put in. “You are... something else, Puck Puckerman.”

puck

A big smile spread across his face as he watched her react to the set up. Feeling proud of himself, he stepped into the backroom. “I hope that’s a compliment,” he joked as he moved to the coffee table. Puck lifted the lids of the food containers. “Got your favorites. Cheese fries. Pizza. More cheese fries. And ma sent you brownies. Yes. You. Not me.” He grabbed the bottle of champagne and worked on opening it. “I just wanted to do something special for you.” Puck popped the champagne and watched the cork fly out into the empty studio. “I wanna spoil you. You deserve it,” he explained as he poured the champagne into two glasses. Sitting on the couch, he beckoned her to join him and handed her a glass. “A toast. I moved here thinking it was just going to be a a few years to build my brand and get out. I never thought I’d meet someone that was going to turn my life upside down. You had me hooked from the first time we sat on this couch together. I fucking hate this holiday….but I would literally do anything to make you happy.” Puck clinked his glass against hers and leaned in pressed a loving kiss to her lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful.”

peyton

“Definitely a compliment,” Peyton replied with nod, grinning from ear to ear. She watched as Puck walked through the room, opening up all her favorite foods and popping the champagne. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. They hadn’t always had a smooth relationship, but he really was the best thing that’s happened to her since Lexi was born. The very best. “This is so much better than watching you work.” She commented, still slightly in awe of it all. Peyton placed the roses carefully on the coffee table before moving to sit down next to him, leaning in to kiss at his cheek softly. “I love this... and you, so much.” She took the glass from Puck and listened quietly to his toast. It was so hard to sit there and not tell him she had heard him the other night, it’s been hard all week, but if she didn’t already know he was in love with her, she’d be able to tell from this. She happily returned his kiss, cupping at his cheek gently, “Happy Valentines Day, handsome.”  Peyton looked down at box in her lap, and hands it to him. “Compared to what you’ve done, this is nothing. But... It’s Valentines Day.” She smiled and took a sip of champagne before placing it down on the coffee table and shifting to sit in Puck’s lap. “You have no idea how happy you make me, baby.” She muttered softly as her fingers raked through his hair. “Talking to you is honestly the best part of my day, and I can’t even imagine my life without you in it anymore. You’re perfect, and sexy, and you have the world’s biggest -  most badass -  heart. You pun with me, and listen to me ramble about nothing for hours, and find a way to make me laugh when I don’t even want to. I’m so insanely in love with you, Puck, and I’m so lucky to be lo-” Peyton cut herself off before she accidentally blurted out something that would kill the mood or cause him to run. “But there are cheese fries within arms reach and my heart is also very much in love with them.”

puck

Taking the box she handed him, he leaned back to give her room to get into his lap. He opened the box and smiled widely at the contents. “Oh fuck yeah. You know me so well. Are we gonna get drunk tonight and have sloppy sex? Say yes. Thank you, baby,” he said as he leaned in to kiss her. His eyes stayed locked on her as she spoke about what he meant to her. Puck had been completely emotionally closed off for the last 10 years, but this girl had broken through every single wall he had built around his heart. “I’m the lucky one,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to fucking marry you, Peyton Hudson.” Pulling away, he reached over and grabbed the container and put it on their laps for easy access. Puck took a couple of fries and held them up to feed them to Peyton.

peyton

“Of course.” Peyton chuckled, smiling against his lips as they kissed. The more Puck told her he was going to marry her, the less it felt like a joke. And the more time she spent with him, the less she wanted it to be. She would marry him in a heart beat. It might not have made sense, but nothing about the way she felt about Puck — or even their relationship to some degree — really made sense. “And I cant wait to be Peyton Puckerman,” she murmured happily. Peyton shifted slightly on Puck’s lap to make room for the container of food, “You really do know the way to my heart.” Peyton joked as she took the fries offered, humming contently to herself. “Do you think if I didn’t accidentally text you, we’d still be here? I mean together... right now. Not here-here, like in Doveport or... alive. I’d really hope we’d both still be alive either way.”

puck

He popped a couple of fries into his own mouth and nodded in agreement. “Cheese fries are a fucking gift from God.” Puck rested his chin on her shoulder as he thought over her question. “I dunno. I mean we bumped into each other on the beach…exchanged phone numbers…ran into each other at like bars and stuff…I mean I always thought you were gorgeous. I was just preoccupied with being an whore and you seemed like the good girl type. But then you accidentally texted me. And you sent me that pun about wanting me inside of you and I realized you weren’t as much of good girl as I thought.” He lifted his head up to look at her properly. “I think you would’ve always been in my life in some sort of way…but I’m really fucking glad you texted the wrong person.” Puck shifted her in his lap to face him more. “You and Lexi really gonna move to LA with me?”

peyton

Peyton quietly continued to eat more cheese fries as she listened to him talk about what things could have been like. “Wait... You don’t think I’m a good girl?” She joked and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I didn’t think I’d ever be a girl who’d turn your head, honestly? I’m just me, and you’re... you. There’s a reason girls fall at your feet, babe. I mean, I’ll fight them now, but back then I didn’t feel like I stood a chance. So... I’m really happy you were my wrong number. And I love that you agreed to go with a possibly crazy person to a wedding of no one you knew... Our wedding will be better, don’t worry.” Peyton moved the container of food off her lap and onto the couch next to them, turning her attention to the hazel eyes of the man she had fallen for. “We are.” She replied simply. “You know I always wanted to move somewhere bigger for my career, now it’s just happening a little sooner? But I’m going to be wherever you are. And Lexi... She’s just part of the package deal. She loves you though, and would probably be more upset than me if you left without us. Unless... you were joking about us moving with you?”

puck

“You knocked me off my feet...I mean literally because I wasn’t paying attention and ran into you...but the thought still counts.” He smirked at her mention of their wedding and wrapped his arms tightly around her. “Hawaii at sunset with an open bar and only cool people invited. Sounds like the dream.” A smile replaced his smirk as she spoke about moving to LA with him. Shaking his head at her question, he leaned in to kiss her quickly before responding. “Never was joking. Seeing you and talking to you has been the best part of my days since we started hanging out. I don’t wanna think about a world where you’re not close by. And Lexi too. I’d do anything for that little girl. Both of you.”

peyton

“You don’t have to think of that world.” Peyton replied with a warm smile. “Our world would be weird if you weren't in it. Plus there’s more for all of us in LA. Just don’t leave until I’ve graduated... Two and a half more months.” It was one thing to find someone who loved her, but it was another to find someone who cared about her daughter just as much. It was hard not to fall more in love with Puck when he talked about Lexi like this. Peyton leaned in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead before pulling away and reaching for the container of brownies on the table. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to share with you, but I can keep a secret if you can?” She smirked slightly, taking a bite and holding it out for Puck.

puck

“I can wait a few more months. You’re worth it,” he said simply with a smile. Puck couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment. “You can keep a secret? Uhhh are you sure about that, babe?” he said teasingly. Leaning in, he took a bite of the brownie in her hand. “Delicious.” Puck raised his head to capture her lips with his. “You taste better,” he muttered. Moving the container away from them, he shifted her in his lap so that she was straddling him. His hands ran over her back as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Puck preferred to explain how he was feeling through his actions rather than words.

peyton

“Hush, I could keep a secret.” Peyton joked, not even believing herself as she says it. Honestly, the only secrets she’s been able to keep are the ones that could hurt Puck. Everything else slowly eats away at her until it eventually blurts out at inappropriate moments. She leaned into his kiss, humming against Puck’s lips softly. “You taste like cheese fries and brownies. No wonder I’m so crazy about you.” Peyton lets Puck shift her to get closer to him, and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. When Puck kissed her like this the world always seemed to fade around her, his lips had a way of telling her how he was feeling even when he couldn’t. Eventually pulling away for breath she rested her forehead against his and brushed her thumb softly over the back of his neck.  “I wouldn’t change a thing,” She whispered into the small space between them, the words of his half-asleep confession still playing in her head. “I’ve never been this happy, Puck.”

puck

Puck stared up at her when she pulled away from him. A smile spread across his face as he listened to her speak about their whatever-ship. “I’m happy too,” he replied quietly. Puck dropped his head into the crook of her neck and squeezed her tightly, just wanting to hold her for a moment. He pressed a kiss to her neck before pulling away to look at her properly. “You know. After my dad leaving…and Quinn…and the baby…I dunno. I thought there was something wrong with me. Something about me that made it impossible for people to stick around or for people to love me. I accepted it. Closed myself off to emotions and was happy doing the casual thing for the rest of my life. Until I met you…you’re pretty fucking stubborn, babe.” Puck leaned up and kissed her lovingly. “But like stubborn in a good way. Because you took the time actually see me. Instead of just using my super sexy body for your pleasure.” He cupped her face in his hands and smiled up at her. “I can’t wait to fucking marry you, baby girl.”

peyton

Biting softly at her lip, Peyton fell quiet as she listened to him speak about how he felt. She knew it didn’t always come easily to him, but that was okay, Puck had a way of showing her how he was feeling. Her hand glided down his chest and rested over his heart. “Hawaii...” Peyton murmured with a bright smile before leaning in to press her lips against his tenderly. “For the record, baby... you are so easy to love,” she pulled back on his lap and shook her jacket off onto the couch next to them. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to get you to see yourself the way I see you. I promise. It’s probably going to drive you crazy,” Peyton chuckled. Reaching for the hem of her shirt, she slipped it over her head and dropped next to her jacket. “I’m all yours...” She told him quietly, leaning in to bury her face in the crook of his neck and smirking against his skin. “Daddy”.

puck

He smiled at her words. “Hawaii,” he repeated. The idea of them getting married in Hawaii may have started as a joke, but the more time they spent together, the more real it became. Puck leaned back against the couch as he watched her take off her jacket. A smirk crept onto his lips as she pulled off her shirt as well. Not wanting her to feel alone, he took the chance to pull off his own shirt as well, tossing it to the side. It was all beginning to remind him of their first night together. His smirk grew wider when he heard her call him daddy. “Oh you fucking know how to get me going, baby,” he said as he tightly wrapped his arms around her. Puck just held her close for a moment, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Mine,” he muttered. His fingers tangled into her hair, pulling her head back so he could capture her lip with his in a heated kiss.

peyton

Peyton closed her eyes against him for a moment, happy to just enjoy the feeling of his body close to her. When it came to Puck she could contently do this all night. He made her feel safe, and loved all without having to say a word. “Yours,” she smirked, biting into his neck gently. Her hands cupped his face, instinctively deepening the kiss between them. A lot of things were the same as the first night they spent together. It was still easy, and it still caused her skin to electrify. But the way they kissed had changed, and the way she felt about him had definitely changed. Peyton pulled away from his lips, close enough to still feel his breath on hers. “Best valentine ever,” she muttered with a smile. 

And then they fucked a lot. K bye.

[shadysadie]

The level of how fast and loose corporations blatantly disregard human life is staggering to me.

The planet is on fire, the coral reef is dead, and we have garbage patches in the oceans that are quickly becoming the size of continents. But really, to me though things have always kind of difficult to fully comprehend. Maybe because there are so many players involved so its harder to point fingers, maybe it's because that scale is so big I can't wrap my head around it, or maybe it's just too far away.

But I live in Superior, WI. Last year the oil refinery in town started on fire.

The first explosion happened around 10 in the morning and since the daycare I work at was so less than half a mile away our whole building shook like a semi landed on the roof. Bookshelves fell over, toddlers fell over, things fell off tables, one of the dramatic pre-schoolers yelled, "We're all going to die!"

We told the kids a dragon had landed on our roof, what else were we going to say? We had twenty panicking pre-schoolers and no idea what had just happened. We figured it out pretty quickly, a coworker and I went outside to see what happened and already there was a giant mushroom cloud.

We all spent most of that morning watching the news on our phones because surely there was going to be directions to tell schools and childcare facilities what to do right? Nope. Well, okay, technically there was, but the directions were, 'don't panic, don't evacuate, everything is under control.'

Surprise, things were not under control. By 1pm here were 3 more explosions, all way bigger and louder than the first. FINALLY, we get word that yeah, maybe we should evacuate after all. A mandatory evacuation zone is established in a 3 mile radius of the refinery. At this point they inform the public, by the way, the fire is right now only burning oil, but its right next to a tank full of hydroflouric acid and if that catches fire it will completely wipe out everything within a 10 mile radius. Comforting to know when your stuck in a building less than a mile away full of small children.

Obviously staff couldn't leave until kids left because we didn't have any way to transport them anywhere safer, but my boss made sure to send the staff members with children of their own off right away. My wife was picking up our girls from their school's evac site, so I stayed with my boss and one other coworker until we were down.

The roads became gridlocked really fast so it took about two hours for most parents to arrive (Superior is small, so it usually takes 15 mins or less to get from one side to another) But after two hours we were still left with 3 brothers, a baby, a toddler, and a pre-schooler. At that point my boss decided we NEEDED to leave, the parking lot was covered in thick, black smoke and it became clear if we stayed we would not be able to escape at all. So we packed the kids into her car, (figuring it didn't matter that she didn't have car seats, traffic was going 2mph anyways) and headed out. I found out later that the boys' single mother couldn't get off work to get them. She worked at Wal-Mart, and even though it was inside the evac zone the employees couldn't leave without permission from corporate. Corporate did not grant permission at any point. Employees who left during this were fired and blacklisted, same with people who didn't show up to their shifts. In one case that meant a mother had to choose between leaving her kids in a cloud of poisonous gas or not being able to feed them, but luckily my boss is not a monster.

I eventually make it to my wife and kids and we head out of town, here's a picture from the top of the hill in the next town over, about 15 miles away.

We went to my friends farm in the country to stay and watch the news coverage. The fire went into the night and got to the point fire fighters couldn't even get close enough to combat it. There were fire balls, literal fire balls the size of cars, shooting out of it. We were safe, but we still knew a lot of people who couldn't get out. Like our elderly neighbors who we had to leave behind because Ma was too sick to get from the bed to the car. It was the longest, scariest day of my life.

Eventually the national guard showed up and got the fire out, they did manage to keep the hydroflouric from combusting, so after a couple of days we could go home. They told us everything was fine, but we knew they weren't being completely honest. The tap water tasted weird after that, it still does. It leaves a strange filmly feeling in your mouth and somehow makes your mouth feel drier after drinking it, but so far it hasn't killed us so I still drink it. Lung problems were rampant that year, particularly with children. All the babies and toddlers had constant chest infections all through the rest of spring and summer. Pre-schoolers did a little better but they still all sounded like a group of 80-year-old chainsmokers. A year and a half on and that's pretty much cleared up, though there's a huge spike in kids with asthma. Doctor's assure us its probably unrelated. Rashes are another thing that increased in prevalence. Big tough, splotchy, dry patches. But they don't hurt, they're just ugly.

We found out the fire started because a bunch of safety protocols had recently been abolished to make the plant more efficient. Husky Oil paid us for lost wages during the evac as well as money spent on hotels, gas, and food but so far they've refused to acknowledge any responsiblity for the strange health conditions nor have they put any money into studying the long term health affects of the fire on the citizens.

Today I found out that the plant is reopening and they still plan on using hydroflouric acid in their operations. I can not express how deeply disgusted I am by this. That day felt like being in Hell (truly, fire and brimstone Hell) and now I find out the company learned nothing from it. They are 100% okay with sacrificing our town (which by the way is named Superior because it is on the tip of Lake Superior, the biggest source of fresh water in North America, and connected directly with the other four Great Lakes, so NOT a lake we want to fuck up) to make a profit.

I might not be able to fathom the severity of global climate change, mass extinction, or garbage continents because my brain is unable to comprehend a scale that large. But I can share with you an example of one very dramatic event with a very clear culprit to highlight the complete lack of responsiblity and human decency that corporate America has. That we allow them to have.

[bangtanniex]

Rose; a preview

Title: Rose

Rating: preview is T-M

Group: BTS

Ship: Yoongi x Taehyung

Trigger Warning: implications of prostitution, rapey language, f-slur

Summary: Min Yoongi stumbles upon an auction for genetically created people--also known as GEs--and impulsively buys one to save him. It's not until they both get to Yoongi's apartment that he realised what he'd done.

Yoongi tried not to glance at the clock for the umpteenth time as he impatiently waited for his shift to finish. He’d been standing in the middle of the art store he worked at trying to explain the difference between Conté and charcoal to an older lady who obviously didn’t know the first thing about art. This was one of the things that annoyed him most about working here. Too many people just coming in and just buying whatever without knowing the medium. You wouldn’t go into a music store and just buy some random instrument without knowing what you’re getting yourself into. Yoongi let out a quiet sigh, hoping that the woman didn’t think that he was sighing at her. The last thing he needed was for her to complain to his boss on the day he gets paid.

Despite Yoongi having just spent the past 10 minutes explaining in detail the difference between the mediums as well as the type of paper that works best with each and the immense importance of fixatives since both mediums smear super easily, the woman ended up walking out of the shop with charcoal, the cheapest sketch pad in the store, and no fucking fixative. Normally Yoongi would protest to this, but he just wants to get his pay card and go home. Let her ruin all of her drawings. Maybe today will be the day that he’ll finally get over his art block and complete a drawing for the first time in months. Unlikely but Yoongi believes in miracles.

As soon as his boss came to relieve him, Yoongi all but sprinted into the back room to grab his things. He shoved his phone into his pants pockets and walked up to the screen on the wall and waited for his ID chip to be scanned. After a few seconds, a small transparent card slid out of the slot below the screen. Yoongi grabbed it and glanced at the luminescent numbers telling him how much he’d made. He placed that in his pocket as well and walked out the back door of the shop. The shop just so happened to be in the biggest marketplace in the region and there was some event was happening so the streets were packed with more people than usual. During days like this, Yoongi would usually take an alternate route to get home but something compelled him to check what the event was today. Call it curiosity or whatever.

As he got closer, he saw what everyone was gathering towards and Yoongi almost stopped dead in his tracks. An auction. Yoongi could clearly see a group of people on pedestals waiting to be sold. It made him sick to his stomach to see it. It wasn’t like Yoongi was completely oblivious to auctions and the selling of GEs. It was often advertised everywhere but this was his first time seeing one. Hell, it was his first time seeing a GE in person. Usually, you’d see them in movies or in advertisements. But rarely in a place like this. These weren’t like the ones you’d see flaunted by the rich. These were tossed out onto the streets for one reason or another and collected by traders.

GE simply stood for Genetically Engineered and describe the people who were created entirely within a lab. Each one was created specially for whichever rich person was willing to pay the price. The buyer had complete control over how they wanted them to look, down to the smallest of details. The one thing they couldn’t engineer, however, was their personality. When you give someone sentience, they do tend to develop their own thoughts and feelings, wants, and dreams. Yoongi couldn’t help but find this absolutely fascinating but some people tended to think otherwise. If they didn’t like the personality, then the GE was thrown out. They all ended here, in the auctions where they’ll be sold for much less than they’re worth.

Yoongi hadn’t noticed that he’d continued walking towards the auction while he was lost in his thoughts until he made eye-contact with one of the GEs who was right in front of him. Yoongi swallowed a gasp as his breath was knocked out of him. The first thing that caught his eye was the colour pink. Not the obnoxious or loud colour of hot pink, no. This was a lovely and soft pink; the colour of roses. The man in front of him was simply beautiful and Yoongi felt as if his world had burst with colour for the first time. There was so much to take in and Yoongi knew that he had to immediately draw the man to capture this memory, but he also knew that no drawing could ever do the man justice. Yoongi’s eyes bounced to the fluffy pink hair that fell down his forehead towards his matching eyes. When the man tilted his head at Yoongi, his cheeks shimmered with a light pink highlighter that contrasted beautifully with his tan skin. No doubt that this “highlighter” was a natural part of his skin and not just makeup. Yoongi couldn’t focus on one thing for too long as another thing caught his eye. Lovely plump lips were parted in surprise, a thick diamond choker glistened around his neck, sharp collarbone was on display as his jacket laid open. Said jacket was a thing by itself. Yoongi didn’t know the first thing about clothing but he couldn’t help but think about how beautiful it looked on him. From where the jacket was parted, Yoongi could see a lacey bralette. The jacket was stark white with long tassels hanging down past the man’s hands. A flowing skirt covered the man’s long legs. Yoongi looked back up to study the man’s face again, eager to memorise it to recreate later when he noticed that the man was looking back at him. He was so entranced by his beauty that he never noticed. Yoongi felt his cheeks warm up at how caught up he got. It wasn’t like he was being lecherous or anything. He wasn’t the type of man to ogle at an attractive man like a pervert. He was an artist who loved beautiful things and the man was a work of art. Their extended eye-contact was interrupted by a group of men that stood off to the side of Yoongi staring at the pink-haired man with matching leers.

“D’you reckon that hair is natural or dyed?” one of the men questioned aloud to the men around him. One of them snickered in return.

“There’s one way to check.” The first man grimaced as his friend broke out in gross giggles.

“Nah, ‘M not a fag.”

“Hm, me neither but I wouldn’t mind seeing those lips wrapped around my cock. It’s pretty enough to be a girl.” The other hummed in agreement. Yoongi looked back up at the man on the pedestal to see him cringe and his cheeks flare in embarrassment. Yoongi wasn’t sure if it was due to the perverse comments or the man’s usage of it as if he wasn’t human. Yoongi noticed that the trader in charge of the auction had walked towards the pink-haired man and began introducing him but he wasn’t hearing anything the man was saying. The only thing he could hear was the chatter of the people around him, all talking aloud about all the perverse things they’d do with the man. Yoongi could see him grow more and more uncomfortable and his cheeks became a dark red. In a spur of the moment decision, Yoongi felt himself rush towards the trader and shove his newly acquired pay card at the man. He couldn’t even think about how much he’d given the man, knowing that it was well over whatever shitty price it was. As soon as the trader announced the sale, Yoongi walked up to the pink-haired man and offered his hand to help him down. Said man looked at him in confusion but grasped his hand without much hesitation. Yoongi escorted them through the crowd without letting go of his hand. It wasn’t until they arrived at Yoongi’s small flat, that he realised what he’d done.

[animaelynn-blog]

Rant about work, read at your own risk. (I’d appreciate it though)

I want to log this experience.

First, let me tell you a bit about myself.

I’m a trans girl.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a job, I’ve been looking for work. I’m a very outgoing person and absolutely love to be around people.

One day me and one of my friends went out looking to help get me a job, i brought resumés, and i personally like to fill out paper job applications so the employer knows I’m not the type of person to fill out things online only to not show up, i like to show my initiative.

So, eventually i make my way through the mall and find a place one of my friends work at. It’s amazing! It’s like a gift shop with all kinds of unique things i have tons of interest in, so obviously i ask if they’re hiring and when they gave me a paper application i filled it out then and there.

So, i wait and make sure to either stop in or call to make sure they know I’m serious about working there. Got a date set up for an interview - Aug 15th.

The day come i show up 20 minutes early and rehearse what I’m going to say because i really really want this job. I casually walk into the store about 5 minutes early and say I’m there for the interview. To which the reply was “Could you come back in about 10 minutes, we just had something come up”

Im all like “yeah, not a problem. I’ll be back then.” I sat down on one of the benches in the mall in my free time and quizzes myself trying to drill everything i need to say in my interview into my head. When time expires i took another deep breath and walk in again. I was thanked for my patience and we headed out of the business to a few seats outside the store. (To me this is odd, shouldn’t the interview be in the back where it’s quiet?) regardless i follow and the interview begins and I’m told the reason we’re outside the store is because they just found out that they’re going to have to move locations within the mall and i know more than most of the people that work there because that’s what the interview delay was about. I was asked if that was a problem and i said “no, not at all as long as you just don’t want me strictly for moving things” i said jokingly.

So, the interview continues and I’m feeling great I’m nailing all these questions and one of the questions was something similar to “am i accepting towards other people” and without missing a beat i said “well, absolutely I’m trans so I’d be quite the hypocrite to look down on others.” Oops, accidentally outer myself i thought. I can kiss this job goodbye.

But, to my surprise i was told most of the staff is LGBT and not to worry and that relieved me greatly and i was told i would get a call back soon (i was impossible to get a timeframe because of the move, understandably.)

So, i continued to check in every week or so until i was told to come in and they’d go over the basics and rules with me and get me familiar with the layout. (I wanna say maybe a week later) So, obviously i show up and everything was explained super hap hazardously because i was told “you won’t need to know most of this since were moving to another location... fair enough)

They had me put ceramic and fragile items in the proper boxes and such and then the next week they did the same after those 2 days i filled out a tax paper and was told about the app they used to communicate with and was added and told the schedule would be posted there.

They have me scheduled for 4 hours one day that was all i figured ok cool I’m new that’s no big deal. I was careful packing things and was praised for not breaking anything accidentally because i was told i would and it happens to everyone.

A month and a half pass and i get called into the new store to help organization and learn the new layout. I was secretly upset so i asked my friend when we got off why they didn’t schedule me at all during the move and i was told that the owner doesn’t like women doing heavy lifting and labor because of a past accident (a bit sexist i thought but it made me happy as i was being referred to by my employer as female, so I’ll take it)

My friend also told me in confidence that she was going to be promoted to manager and not to say anything but she was excited and i was excited for her.

My first day working (basically, since i was never really given proper training still.) THEY HAD ME OPEN BY MYSELF. I was sick to my stomach but there was instructions written down to help so i wasn’t worried and under the instructions on what to do and such it read “if any questions please contact (my friend), Manager 1, or Manager 2. (In that order)

My friend was listed first so naturally i thought that was the progression to go through, plus knowing she was in the process of being promoted i figured it was that way to help her understand how manager varies from regular employee. I followed the instructions to a tee. Found things to clean and stay busy during all of my shifts. I loved when the customers would come in it was very easy for me to establish connections and help sell stuff which was ya know my job. Always with a smile.

I’d come in for shifts and people hired around the same time as i was we’re sitting down doing nothing. I’m not the type of person to just tattle on someone so i try to help them and tell them to do anything to stay busy. To me we’re all like a family and i loved my coworkers.

I picked up on things really fast but i have the habit of repeating what was just said or wanting reiteration so i know what I’m doing is correct and it helps me remember for future reference.

Since, i picked up on things easy I’d have my coworkers asking me things which i just learned (because the computer system changed during the move and they were having trouble adjusting to the new one) and i was glad i could help them. It’s my work family i want what is best for us as a whole.

Now, this is where things start to get weird because this comes the day after the whole Trump wants to erase trans people thing.

I was asked my shirt size as all employees needed to wear them on the weekends and was told mine was lost. A few days before i noticed we had a for hire sign in the window which initially didn’t even catch my eye because i was told someone was in the process of getting let go because they made fun of a coworkers weight and didn’t stop.

Later, we had an abrupt day where everyone was to be at the store for retraining (wasn’t surprised because they really didn’t do it to begin with- this included Manager 1 overseeing Manager 2 while Manager 2 reviewed the normal employees. We went through the basics and i nailed it again, i actually got ahead of the Manager on something and how they were to be done because i was so proud of what I’d learned by myself with basically zero training.

I left there estatic. I nailed it.

I was asked about a minor screw up on my part i was never told about so i wasn’t worried.

I was asked “why i clocked out an 30 mins after close” to which i replied it was my first day closing and i wanted to triple check my math to make sure all the earnings for the day was accounted for.” To which i was told 15 mins after close is the absolute latest and i told my manager that it wouldn’t happen again.

I was also asked about my friend (you know the one that was going to get promoted to manager?) i was asked if i was told she was a manager to which i said no. Because ya know when something is said in confidence it stays there and i wasn’t about to get someone i deeply care about in trouble or fired especially someone who worked there basically since the beginning. I’m not the type of person to ever bring this info to their attention or hold it over their head. I believe good things come to good people.

A few hours later, i got this message through the app we used at work.

“Hi (My Name),

As you know I was in today to review employee status at (The store). After reviewing the status of all team members with (the owner) and (manager 2), it has been decided that we will not be able to continue your employment with (the business) long term. You can continue to work the next week that you're scheduled, and we can schedule you for one more week of work after that. November 10th would be the last possible day. We wanted to give you the courtesy of an advanced notice so that you can make future plans for yourself.”

I sat in my car re-reading this message thinking it had to be sent to the wrong person.

My first, response to this message was vague and thankful for the opportunity type response.

However, after talking to a few of my closest friends i was convinced to inquire more about this to which i was sent this message.

“(My name),

The issues we have been observing include difficulty with approaching customers and difficulty taking instruction and focusing on tasks. As the final decision was made with (the owners) input, it is not reversible.

These were my strengths, the things i was most proud of. I would have understood if it was things i wasn’t great at. But, it wasn’t. Which besides telling me in person was another slap in the face.

It because obvious that they were not basing any of this on any of the days i actually worked but only on a few hours that day. Keep in mind i never worked with anyone longer than one hour and worked alone mostly. At no point until the review day did i ever work with any of my managers since the store opened.

I got fucked over and I’m now currently looking for a job that accepts trans people and a place that actually takes interest in me as an employee and not a number.

Sorry, for this rant. I just wanted to share my frustration.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Protection Squad - Ten

10/15

A kind woman offers you a place of work at the animal shelter she owns and one of the animals seems to take a strong liking to you. You thought Suga was just like any other cat you happened to meet in therapy. You realise how wrong you were when he reveals his true self to you in order to do everything he can to prevent anything hurting you ever again.

Pairing- Reader (Y/N) x Suga [or is it… :)) ]

Genre - Shapeshifter!BTS & magic AU

Warning- multiple possible triggers; Mental disorders talked about and portrayed (depression, anxiety , suicidal thoughts and acts) abuse . near death . plus possibly more . If you are uncertain if you can read, privately message me about what you wish to avoid and I’ll tell you if the story contains it.

Protection Squad Masterlist

Shelter Layout

All at once, consciousness greeted you. The first thing you noticed was that you couldn't feel your hands or any of your left arm. For a moment, you panicked, thinking some kind of irreversible damage had occurred to you but then you shuffled and realised you were laid on your arm which is why it was dead. A little more movement told you your hands were tied together behind your back, a little too tightly hence the lack of feeling. As carefully as you could, you resituated your body until you managed to sit up, realising that your ankles were also tied together. Looking down, you saw rope making your restraints.

A low groan made you jump and your eyes shot up to see a naked male on the floor opposite you. Your eyes widened at the sight. Much like you, he was restrained but in comparison, your rope and tied limbs looked like paradise. He had metal chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, what looked like barbed wired threaded within the chains. It was only then you noticed the dried blood on his body, especially around where the metal touched his body. Another loop of barbed chain wrapped twice around his slim waist, either end either connecting to the chains on his wrists or ankles.

Pure horror shot through your veins, turning your blood to ice finding three loops of barbed chain wrapped tightly around his throat.

"Ohmygod." You breathed out in a distressed whisper, your hands automatically coming up to cover your mouth, afraid of who might hear your words.

As you realised what had lead you to this moment, the male in front of you suddenly mattered so much less and your head whipped from side to side in search of your companion that you could only hope was still breathing.

Hobi was nowhere to be found and fear welled further up your throat making you feel sick to your stomach.

"No no no no, where is he?" You spoke shakily, forcing yourself up onto your knees to look around the area.

The place you were in didn't even register in your mind. You could've been in a castle and you still wouldn't have noticed, you were too preoccupied with thoughts of Hobi.

As it happens, you were not in a castle but unlike most kidnapping horror stories, you were not in a dingy run down warehouse located in some remote place far away from civilisation with blood stains on the floor. The walls around you were white, the floor and ceiling too. On the other side of the room stood a large metal bench, one similar to the one in the medical office at the shelter but this one had multiple thick leather restraints attached. Behind the bed stood tall a cupboard from floor to ceiling. Beside that a wall mounted rack full of terrifying tools, some looked medical, some looked made for DIY and some pure medieval torture devices. But, you didn't notice any of that.

You realised that besides you and the naked man, the room was empty. As hope began to tingle within at the thought of having a fighting chance, your eyes finally settled on the bars surrounding you and the man. You were in a cage that took up half the room. A crude toilet in one corner consisting of a bucket with a roll of paper beside it.

"Fuck, no." Your voice turned desperate and you fell back against the wall to sit on your backside, holding your knees up against your chest. "What the fuck am I going to do?"

The man groaned again but you were too busy both internally and externally panicking to pay him any attention, at least until he yelped in pain, shocking you back to the present situation.

"D-don't move." You managed to stammer out and he froze. "It's barbed." But, he didn't listen and turned, rolling painfully on the chains, wincing as the spikes dug further into his flesh just so he could look at you. His eyes widened and you could see nothing but fear and pain in his orbs.

"No...Y/N..." He whispered and your heart stopped for a second. "No, why did they have to take you too?" He shuffled closer to you on his side but you moved further away causing him to stop. "I won't hurt you, fuck, the last thing I'd ever want is to hurt you."

"How do you know my name?!" You demanded, all rationality flying out the window. This naked man before you was a complete stranger, you were certain you hadn't even seen him fleetingly in the streets. Strangely enough, though, his voice struck something within your mind, it sounded familiar but for the life of you, you didn't understand why.

"Oh...shit." Realisation washed over his features and he pushed himself up carefully into a seating position, once again ignoring the metal piercing his body. "This is never how you should've found out."

"Found out what?!"

"About me, about Yoongi, about Jungkook and Jimin and Namjoon and Seokjin and Taehyung."

"Y-Yoongi?" Despite the situation being so dire, at the mention of his name, your heart hurt. "Y-you know him?" He nodded. "Who are you?" Your voice was quiet again. You didn't have it in you to yell anymore.

"I'm Hoseok." Your eyes blew wide at the mention of Yoongi's best friend. "Has Yoongi mentioned me?" It was your turn to nod. "Okay, that's good." He smiled awkwardly. "I never wanted to meet you like this." He motioned to his body, only then realising he was naked. "Ah, that's even worse." Somehow, he laughed lightly and you wondered what kind of guy could find any kind of humour in the situation you found yourselves in.

"What about you all?" You prompted. "Are you guys involved in something? Is this gang stuff?"

"What?" He barked out a laugh and you frowned. "No, Y/N, we're not involved with the mafia or gangs or anything bad. We're all just normal guys well, I mean, ignoring our nonhuman sides."

"Your what?"

"We...We're all shapeshifters, Y/N." You stared for a moment before glaring angrily. "I know, we should've told you a long time ago but Yoo-"

"Fuck off." Hoseok clamped his mouth shut. "What kind of a fucking idiot do you take me for? Fucking shapeshifters?!" You laughed humourlessly, the sound is only dry and dark. Hoseok swallowed at the noise, you had never sounded like that and he wanted it to go. Honestly, angry Y/N kind of scared him. "This isn't a movie, Hoseok, fuck, is that even your name? Are you one of them, working to try and get something from me? Well, I can tell you, I have nothing of worth to anyone. If you want to kill me, just do it, I'm done with my life."

"W-what?" He paled at your confession. "No, Y/N." Ignoring your shuffles to get away from him, Hoseok moved over to grip your hands in both of his, his eyes suddenly looking so broken and distraught. "No, you can't be done with your life. You have so much to give. Seokjin-hyung is going to teach you to be a vet. You can help so many animals like you helped Bob!"

"H-how do you know that?"

"I told you, I'm Jung Hoseok, best friend to Min Yoongi." He smiled but it was full of pain. "He'd hate to hear you talk like this."

"He'd hate to hear me talk full stop, Hoseok." You scoffed. "But none of this is important, tell me the truth, Hoseok, none of that shapeshifting bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Y/N, I swear. All seven of us are shapeshifters." You only stared at him, still not believing his words, jaw tense. "We weren't born this way, we were human at one point but something happened to us all and now we have animal DNA within us. We can take on the form of the animal but it's all us, we just have their bodies. At first, the animal is sort of a quiet presence in our heads, like a humming, but it fades with time." He could see that you didn't believe him and looked down at his hands, pulling them from your own. "You see this?" He showed you the mark on his right palm. It looked eerily familiar to you. "You recognise it, don't you?" An honest nod moved your head in confirmation. "Every shapeshifter has this mark somewhere on their body in both forms. Mine if on my right palm and my front right paw." Then it hit you, why it was so familiar. Your eyes snapped back up to him and he smiled softly. "Yeah."

"Hobi." You muttered and he nodded. "No way."

"I'm Hobi, Y/N. I've been by your side almost every day for months. I was with you at the park, I saw him approach you from behind and tried to run to you but the other guy, he roped me and tranquilised me."

"Why? Why would they do this?"

"Shapeshifters are insanely fucking valuable on the black market. It's partly an ownership thing and partly some fucked up fetish. Some shifters can just change part of their bodies on demand so cat and dog-shifters are especially highly sought after, for the ears and tails."

"Furries." You spoke without even meaning to and Hoseok cracked up.

"Yeah, furries." He grinned, no longer noticing the wire digging into his throat every time he spoke or moved. You did though as fresh blood trickled out from the wounds and down his bare skin.

"Why would they do this to you? This is barbaric." You reached up to run your fingertips just under the bottom row of spines in his throat.

"I can't shift without ripping myself apart." He explained. "But don't worry too much, once it's off, I'll heal fine, the spikes aren't too deep in, nowhere near far enough to do any major damage, I'd not get them money dead or badly damaged."

"Why are you so calm about this?!" You shrieked in disbelief. Practically all fear had left Hoseok and he looked pretty much indifferent.

"Freaking out won't benefit me. It'll only use up energy and make you freak out too."

"Oh..right." You nodded and although it felt practically impossible, you started to calm down. "Do we know anything about the situation?" You asked, looking around to really take in the room that time knowing that Hobi/Hoseok was right in front of you.

"No." Hoseok frowned, turning to look around too. "I imagine they'll torture me for information. You're innocent in this and they figure you know nothing."

"Okay." You nodded before speaking again. "They'll kill me when they get what they want from you, won't they?" Hoseok didn't answer so you looked back at him. His whole body was stiff. "It's okay, I'm not delusional, I know that I'm a liability, that's the only reason they brought me along. They couldn't leave me at the park, I'd alert people to your kidnapping and I saw the guy that grabbed you, I could point the finger and get them caught."

"I don't want to admit how right you are. I don't want anything to happen to you." Hoseok looked desperate at the thought of any harm coming to you but you just shrugged and looked back around the room. "Do you-do you really not care if you die?" You only answered with another shrug as you had spotted a blanket just outside of the cage and got up on your knees to shuffle over. "Y/N." Hoseok's voice reflected his desperation for your safety but you ignored him to squeeze your arms through the gap to grasp the material.

It took a good few tries before you managed to have a good enough grip and pull it through the bars. You went straight back to Hoseok and carefully wrapped the material around his body.

"You take it, shapeshifters run higher than humans," he muttered, trying to fight your hands weakly but you glared at him. He quickly lowered his arms to allow you to finish bundling him up.

"You're naked, Hoseok, you need this more than I do." He made a face showing he was uncertain. "Fine, if not for the sake of warmth, keep it for the sake of me not having to see your penis flapping around everytime you move."

"Oh." Red painted his face and he had the decency to look away in embarrassment while clutching the blanket tighter to his body. "Sorry."

"Not your fault." You settled back down, eyes still scanning the room for anything that could be of use to you two.

"Actually, it is, I never wear clothes when I know I'm going to shift." You looked at him curiously. "The others do but, I prefer to just be naked anyway no matter my form." He chuckled.

"You can wear clothes when you shift?"

"Yeah. Of course, you can never see them but they become like another layer of skin under fur or whatever."

"Oh, they don't get damaged?"

"Only if we get injured." You made a noise of consideration but said nothing and returned to your task of looking around. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something useful."

"There's nothing, they won't leave anything close enough that could benefit us in any way."

"Blanket."

"That's different."

"How?"

"It's not a weapon or escape tool."

"We could wrap it around someone's throat and strangle them to death," Hoseok said nothing so once again, your attention returned to him.

"Honestly, I think I'm kind of more scared of you right now more than our kidnappers." He chuckled and your lips twitched up into a smile. "You're taking this all pretty well."

"Like you said, no point freaking out, it'll only use up energy and rub off on the other."

"You're trying to plan an escape."

"Well...I've got to do something. I can't just sit here and not keep my mind busy or else I will go crazy."

"True." Hoseok moved closer until he was sat shoulder to shoulder with you and also looked out around the room.

For a good ten minutes or so, you both surveyed the room carefully, discussing potential ideas but inevitably shooting them down upon talking them out until the dead end.

A click of a key echoed around the room so you both looked over at the door as it opened. In walked the man you saw grab Hobi. Your body tensed up at the sight of the man and Hoseok moved closer to you, placing his hand on your high comfortingly so you calmed knowing getting angry would not be worth it. But the second the next man entered the room, nothing Hoseok could do would possibly calm you.

"J-Jeremy?"