Tumgik
#also yes i purposefully didnt reveal the two past names
krakrac · 8 months
Text
hiiii time for an OC rant because thoughts have been thought and i need to scream about them into the void 💥💥
i have been thinking for some time now, about yrsk and the fact that he could be read as a DID system; with an emphasis on "could" since i never planned on writing him as a system and i myself dont view him as one and i probably never will (but who knows, he has already changed A LOT since he came into existence).
(had to add read more because god DAMN i will NOT shut UP)
to show what the hell i mean by that: first thing, he goes/went by at least three different names (it used to be just two but some development with the story has been made) and he treats each one of these names as a separate personality of sorts that acts in a certain way. they don't exist simultaneously – two of them are of the past and the third is his current one which would be named "yrsk". sometimes, yrsk does or says things (be they morally questionable or not) that remind him of the way he used to act when he still called himself one of the past names and he tries to avoid responsibility by attributing the "bad" things to one of the past names. basically saying "oh that wasn't me that was this fucking guy" to himself. also he does this more or less subconsciously and only in his mind, he never speaks about this with anyone (this might change as i write more chapters tbh, i can see him talking about it with nyr at some point in a distant future). of course each of these personalities behind the names is still him, the same person, and he is aware of it.
the second thing is how quickly his attitude can change. he could be all chatty and content one second, and harsh, tense and often emotionless the other. which could evoke switching between alters but it's actually just him switching into survival mode. "oh fuck there is danger, enough of shits and giggles i gotta concentrate on keeping my ass alive" kinda deal. since he has been dealing with danger (both short- and long-term) too often, he had to create a defense mechanism for himself at some point to not lose his mind out of sheer fear and stress, which was even reinforced by his mentor as some form of self-control was required by the martial arts he has been teaching yrsk. if you asked nyr, he would definitely agree that yrsk on the run or during a fight feels like a different person and that he could even notice a slight change in his voice.
also, there is this third thing going on with him, which could be a combination of the two points above, or you could very well view it as an actual alter switch (and i honestly wouldn't even be against making it canon because i actually have no idea what da hell was that): yrsk gained an opportunity to finally exact revenge on an enemy who has more or less destroyed a huge part of his life and he took this opportunity without hesitation. in that moment, he was in the survival mode but at the same time one of the "personalities" behind the past names sort of emerged (or possibly both tbh) – the one that wouldn't bat an eye at torture because that was exactly what he did to the enemy. he snapped out of it after the deed was done and needless to say he was horrified by it and infinitely disgusted by himself; it really fucked him up subsequently. hard to say if it was because he was aware it was him doing it, or because he wasn't aware of it.
ik in this case there is this stereotypical "bad and EVIL alter that KILLS people and is VERY fucked up" thing but again it wasnt written with DID in mind.
anyways rant over i guess 🫡🫡 i might've wanted to talk about more stuff but it's almost 3am and im starting to feel tired so i forgor what it was
also im not much more knowledgeable in DID than an average person so i will gladly welcome any thoughts on this rant, if anyone actually read allat lmao
0 notes
literaila · 3 years
Text
tricks and tips.
loki x gn!reader. title says it all. be warned. 
*
the first time you met loki,
he was sitting in a cage. it was cold where they were keeping him, somewhere far too excluded from everything else, someplace that you barely recognized yourself. it was cold, and it was dark everywhere except the glass composure he was trapped in.
this wasn’t really a prison, you knew. it couldn’t have been a prison for him when he was just sitting there, watching you, no movement, no sound.
but still, something about the cage made you want to crawl out of your skin.
or maybe it was him.
maybe it was his eyes, the cruel words he had spoken to everyone else. he wasn’t just a man, he would remind you, he was something other.
you’d first been called in to interrogate him (having a doctorate in psychology was very useful apparently) and try to determine what his next move was. 
though within five seconds of entering the room, you wondered why anyone would think there was any move he could make in the first place. he was completely enclosed, trapped in something that looked like it could hold even the scariest of monsters. 
and well, you werent quite sure if that was him. 
though, you couldnt deny the chill that ran down your spine as his eyes watched you as you walked closer and closer, not letting any fear you might have deter you from the job you were supposed to be doing. figure out what his next move was. simple. 
“hello,” you started, a professional smile on your face. you could’ve sworn he’d flinched. “i’m y/n.” 
the only thing you got in return was a roll of his eyes, clearly fed up with you, probably with the cage, and definitely with the wall he was leaning against. 
your neck ached in sympathy. 
“you must be loki, yes?” trying again, you drew a chair that was sitting next to the cage, probably leftover from the last person that had tried to talk to him, and leaned back, waiting for whatever answer he would give. 
turns out, that didnt take long. 
“prince” he, not quite hissed but announced. his face was not any more pleasant, and it was clear he wasnt joking. 
even still, you had to put in some effort not to giggle. it wasnt as if you’d ever gotten corrected by a ‘prince’ before. or that you’d even been in the vicinity of one. 
allowing only a small twitch at the corner of your lips, you nodded seriously, opening the notebook you’d been holding. “ah yes, prince loki. i’m sorry” 
“why are you here?” he asked, leaning his head against the wall again, and closing his eyes. “another person sent to discover all my secrets? figure out what to do with someone like me?” 
it was silent for a moment, the two of you were completely alone. it was still cold, it was still dark, but this close to the prince, you could observe the slow movements he was making. you could see his face clearly, the dread unhidden from his features. 
you supposed it must be draining, to have people asking you the same things, hoping to find out something new. 
you wonder how long he’d been left alone since he’d arrived in the small prison. how long he’d been watched. 
someone more cheerful, less conceded, might be a relief. 
“well yes, i guess so.” there was no point in lying, especially considering it didnt seem like he was going to cooperate anyway. “but i’m willing to bet that it wouldnt matter even if i tried,” 
he opened his eyes at that, something new on his face. something other than the distaste he already had for you. 
“its usually not safe to make bets with me, as i’m sure my brother already told you.” he spit out the word brother. it didnt surprise you, but you still scribbled something down in the notebook you were holding. you didnt fail to notice the change in topic. 
“i actually havent spoken to him yet, just the agent who called me in. i cant seem to remember their name...” 
loki stood up then, walking around the cage, stretching out. he looked different now, less angry, maybe a bit more tired than when you’d walked in. there was nothing else in the cage. no water, no food, no bed. it would be a struggle to stay sitting for long. 
“you dont work for shield?” the prince asked, now standing in front of you. 
“god, no.” you giggled at the thought, imaging yourself in the all-black uniforms you’d seen on almost every person that had welcomed you in. “i’m just here to... interrogate you.” you made an effort to keep the cheer in your voice, not wanting him to return to the other side of the cage and ignore you for the rest of the time you were locked in here with him. 
it wouldnt make for a very good report. 
“no i suppose not...” he drawled, smirking at you with crueler eyes than before. you recognized the insult but paid no mind to it. he was locked in a glass cage, multiple levels below the ground. he had a right to be a little bitter. “now about that bet,” 
huh. maybe a game would work then. you were almost sure that he’d been purposefully trying to move past that. 
“i think, knowing that you are the god of mischief, that even if i asked questions-- and you answered --that it wouldnt be too far-fetched to say that it would be all lies.” you watched his face change, the tiny twitch of his lips. “a safe bet, i’m assuming.” 
loki sat back down, this time in the middle of the floor with his long legs crossed over each other. he was looking at you completely now, blank face. it wasnt as scary now, and you werent sure if this was the right prison for someone as calm as he seemed. 
“i’ve been told its not good to assume,” he replied, looking down to his lap. 
you nodded along, silent then. 
it was another minute after, both of you thinking completely different things, before anyone spoke. you, of course, were trying to figure out your best course of action. what you could ask to get him to say something that you could report back to the people waiting for you, what he would need to hear to actually reveal something that wasnt already known. 
it was only when you looked up and saw loki scowling once again that you decided it was best to just keep the conversation going. 
“how long have you been here, then?” 
“here, physically? only around a day or two. i cant tell what time it is.” he looked around, nodding to the black walls, the light that was only coming from the floor beneath him. “on earth? ...well, far longer than i intended to be.”
“hmm” 
loki raised a brow. “hmm?” 
you looked down at your lap, undeterred by the demand in his voice. he didnt like to not know. 
“Its just that,” you looked back up at him, offering a smile and using your hands to gesture in the air. “based on what i’ve heard of you... on the news, it seems more like you came to ‘annihilate’ us all. and, well i just figured that would take a bit longer than a couple of days?” 
you kept eye-contact with him. he was far less intimidating when he was sitting like a child. far less intimidating when his eyes werent full of murder. 
he nodded, leaning his chin on his hand, staring. “that sounds like a question.” he muttered, uninterested. he looked a bit bored, mostly tired, but still. 
“oh right,” you leaned back, distancing yourself from him and returning your eyes to the notebook. “sorry”  
loki sighed, kept silent for a moment before he saw that you werent going to say anything else. he had to know. 
“if i tell you something, will you tell me what you’re writing in that thing?” 
your eyes perked up. that was a good offer. 
“i thought it wasnt smart to make deals with the ‘god of mischief’?” you emphasised the title with a wave of your hands, hoping to get him to smile. 
just something to report, you reminded yourself. just stay long enough to get him comfortable. 
“its not,” he smirked, watching you decide. this suddenly felt a bit too much like a dare. 
and, well, you werent something who backed away from a dare. 
“okay, deal.” 
loki didnt reply, only waved a hand as if to say get on with it before yawning. he was definitely paying attention, but his show of boredom was greatly appreciated even still. 
you werent used to being told what to do with gestures, but it was clear that loki was very used to telling other people what to do with just a gesture. it was the prince in him, you supposed. didnt mean you were going to listen. 
“why am i going first?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you now. 
loki laughed, full out. he gestured around him with wide eyes, energy sudenly coming back to him. he looked much more like a prince now, than he did before. “it would seem that i’m at a bit of a disadvantage.” 
you glared at him, unmoving. “how do i know you’ll tell me anything real?” 
lies, you thought. you were very familiar with them, familiar to listening to them and familiar to dealing with them. 
“you have my word,” he promised, sincerely with a hand over his heart. 
it was definitely too much. but still, you grabbed the notebook and flipped it around so that he could see. the look on his face might’ve been just enough to make this entire day worth it. 
it was just scribbles, after all. little doodles to help keep you focused. 
but of course, the god of mischief, prince of asgard, didnt know that. 
he only stared at you, an astounding look in his eyes. and you, only smirked. copying his gesture from earlier. 
get on with it. 
“fine,” he quipped. crossing his arms over his chest. copying you now. it only made you smile wider. “i wasnt born on asgard. i also murdered my biological father.” no remorse on his face with those words, just another yawn. 
well. that wasnt expected. 
“that wasnt the deal,” you said, instead of offering any sympathy you might have. pity you knew he wouldnt want. any disgust that came with the words. he didnt want emotions, and you still needed something to report. 
you suddenly felt angry with him, and you couldnt tell why. 
“darling, i said i would tell you something. not that i would tell you anything useful.” he laid down then, right in the middle of the floor. it was ridiculous. but then you could see him closing his eyes, putting his hand over his face to block out the light. “its not like you gave me anything useful either.” he teased the words out, yawning again. 
maybe you’d misread his mischief, his distaste. 
“when was the last time you got any sleep?” you asked, instead of acknowledging anything he said. 
his face snapped up at that, the pressure in the room rising to the highest level. it seemed that you’d struck a nerve. he had been there far too long. 
“another question,” he hissed, distaste back plain and clear in his eyes, tinting his mouth. he was mad now, angry. it probably wasnt at you, you thought. it was probably at the situation, at his brother, at himself. 
you might’ve known a bit more than you’d led on. 
“when i was a kid,” you started, pleasant smile back on your face. you were in the company of a prince after all. “my mom used to tell me to think ‘happy thoughts’ to fall asleep.” you saw him wince slightly, but you werent finished. “it helped lure me to sleep, and also keep away nightmares.” 
“why are you telling me this?” he demanded, quietly. whatever he didnt like about what you were saying, it was too late to take back. 
“just in case you needed some help. or a reminder to take a nap.” 
and then someone was calling your name, leading you out of the dark room. you looked back at loki once more, another smile. 
you were sure you’d be back soon. 
and loki, well he was watching you walk away. listening to the silence you’d left behind. 
compared to any other person that had attempted to talk to him, to get something out of him. you were the most entertaining. and also slightly annoying. 
but still, he couldnt get those words out of his head. and he couldnt get the weight off his eyes. 
five minutes later, your voice in his ear, he was sound asleep against the glass wall. 
105 notes · View notes
just-my-fandom · 4 years
Text
Chapter 2: Trick or Treat, Freak
Summary: After Will sees something terrible on trick-or-treat night, Mike wonders whether Eleven’s still out there. Nancy wrestles the truth about Barb. Dustins sister finally talks to Mad Max, but doesn’t get the response she wanted.
Tag list; @folly-olly @chinchillagirl18
Story list; Chapter 1
Note; Damn I suck at keeping up with series’, I’m sorry it took me five months to get the second chapter in, school and work is keeping me (too) occupied! I also started improvising in the end because my Netflix has been cutting out, and I don’t know the episode word-for-word by heart!
Tumblr media
“Oh! I want to see those pearly whites!”
You and Dustin are dressed all out. Gray suits and large backpacks, each holding your own proton blaster. Side by side, you aim your blasters at one another, smiling at the camera your mother held up,
“Who you gonna call?” Claudia hums the Ghostbusters theme song, and laughs when you purposefully hit Dustin in the shoulder with your blaster. 
You skid your bike to a stop just outside the school, laughing when Will runs up, yelling, “Ghostbusters!”
“Hey, Spengler!”
“Egon!”
“Venkman!”
“Whoa whoa.” Mike pulls you away from Lucas, pointing to Lucas’ name tag on his suit, “Why are you Venkman?”
“Because I’m Venkman.” Lucas states, Mike shaking his head. “No, I’m Venkman.”
“Why can’t there just be two Venkmans?” Will asks, innocently, Mike scoffing and glaring at Lucas. “Because there’s only one Venkman in real life. We planned this months ago.” 
Mike presses a hand to his chest. “I’m Venkman. Y/N’s Barrett, Dustin’s Stantz, Will’s Egon, and you’re Winston.”
“I specifically didn’t agree to Winston.” Lucas crosses his arms, Mikes eyes widening in an ‘are you serious’ expression. “Yes, you did!”
“I don’t think he did.” You look at Will, who shakes his head. “No one wants to be Winston.”
“What’s wrong with Winston?” Mike looks at you, and you press your lips together, tightly. “Winston joined the team super late, he’s not really funny, or a scientist.”
“Yeah but he’s still cool.”
“If hes so cool.” Lucas snips, “Then you be Winston.”
“I cant.” Mike sighs, and your eyes scan the school yard as they continue to argue, furrowed brows relaxing with realization. “Shit.” You face the group, “Guys?”
The four boys look at you, and you point past them, to the kids getting off the bus. “Why is no one else wearing costumes?”
Standing at your lockers side by side, Will watches you unzip your suit and step out of it. “You wore clothes underneath?”
“You didnt?” You pick up the suit and bag and shove them into your locker, slamming it shut before picking up your bookbag, turning and jerking to a stop to stare at Max, who rolled down the hall towards you on her skateboard.Your eyes watch as she skids to a stop in front of her locker, putting her board inside and grabbing her books for the next class.
“You really like her, huh?” You blink and look at Will, shaking your head as you sigh, deeply. “No. It’ll go away.” Your eyes shift back to the red head. “I hope.”
“Why dont you just talk to her?” Will asks, and you frown, finally turning your full attention to him. “She called us stalkers and creeps. I dont think she’d want to be friends with a creepy stalker.” Without realizing, your eyes are on her again, “Besides, she probably doesnt even like girls.”
“You never know until you talk to her.” Will raises an eyebrow, and you squint your eyes. “Since when did you get so good at this kinda stuff?”
“My mom has a boyfriend.” Will shrugs, and you snort, nodding towards the classroom you both shared down the hall. “C’mon.”
.           .               .
Max opens her locker and shoves her first and second period books inside, heaving a deep sigh of exhaustion.
A small clearing of a throat causes her to glance over, finding you, shifting your bookbag on your shoulder, and a nervous smile on your lips. Cute.
“Uh, hey.” You wave, and instantly drop your hand to your side, “I’m Y/N.”
“I know.” She nods, once, shifting onto one foot, “You’re a stalker like your four buddies.”
You laugh, nervously, shaking your hand as you pull at the sleeves of your shirt. “No. No, we weren’t stalking you. I-I mean my brother and my friend, Lucas, were, but I was just curious. You’re new here in Hawkins and I saw that you really like Dig Dug at the arcade.”
“So your brother is Dustin?” Max raises an eyebrow, and you nod, “Great. So you’re related to a stalker.”
“My twin, actually.” You flinch, “That’s not what I came to you about. Halloweens tonight, and since you’re new to town, I was wondering if you wanted to go trick or treating with us.”
“No thanks.” Max slams her locker shut, stepping back, “I dont hang out with stalkers.” You press your lips together when she turns around, walking down the hall to the classroom you also had to walk to.
“Great talk.” You exhale, shakily, glancing around before following her. You drop down into your desk and heave a deep sigh, Will glancing over at you then to Max settled in the back, “So?”
“So what, Will?” You mutter, dropping your notebook on your desk before crossing your arms, leaning into your seat. “Did you talk to her?”
“Did I talk to her?” You repeat, and Dustin looks over his shoulder at your harsh tone, “Yeah I talked to her. She called me a stalker and a creep. Us stalkers and creeps. So she wants nothing to do with me.”
Will frowns and glances at Dustin, before he watches you prop your chin on your hand, and write the notes on the board.
. . .
“You’re late.” Billy is propped up against his car, cigar in hand as he watched Max round to the passenger side,
“I had to pick up make up homework.”
“Jesus, I don’t care.” Billy tosses his cigar down, stomping on it before tossing open his door, “Late again and you’re skating home.”
Max waits until he’s in the car before rolling her eyes, settling in next to him and curling up against the window. Halfway down the road is when Billy decides to speak up again. “God, this place is a shithole.”
“It’s not that bad.” Max protests, quietly, mind taking her back to you. She had seen how quiet you were in class today. She caused that by being cold to you in the hallway.
“You liking it here?” Billy snips, eyes glancing at her then back to stare at the road, “It smells like literal cow shit.”
“No.”
“Then why are you defending it?” Billy narrows his eyes to Max, but misses her rolling her eyes a second time that day. “I’m not.”
“Sure seems like it.”
“It’s just.” Max sucks in a deep breath, trying to make sure she didn’t have an attitude. “We’re stuck here, and.”
“Yeah. Whose fault is that?”
“Yours.” Max mutters, so Billy raised his eyebrows and glanced her. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” Billy raises his hand to his ear, “Whose fault is it Max? Say it.”
“No.”
Billy clenches his jaw, hand jerking to shift the gear of his car, which lurches when it suddenly picks up speed. Max’s eyes snap to the road, where up ahead, four figures pedal on their bikes. You and the party.
“Billy, slow down.” Max demands, Billy chuckling and looking at her. “What? Those your buddies?”
“No! I don’t know them.”
“Well I guess you won’t care if I hit em, huh?” Billy drums his hand on the steering wheel, eyes settled on you reaching over to shove Dustin, “Bonus points if I hit all of them in one? Or maybe just the girl.”
“Stop, that’s not funny.” Max turns in her seat, mind racing. She just met you. Is she really going to lose you before she has a chance to be friends?
You look over your shoulder at the loud roar of Billy’s car, your eyes widening when the car jerks to speed up, your gasp inaudible from how hard you suck in, “Guys. Guys, we gotta move!”
“Billy, stop!” Max orders, hand reaching out to jerk the steering wheel away from the group, to the opposite side of the road.
Your bike wobbles so you fell sideways, jaw hitting the rough road so your head jerked back up, groan loud as Dustin fell into the grass, Mike and Lucas dropping their bikes to scram back into the road, both grabbing your arms but their eyes remain on the car now speeding away.
“What the fuck?!” You jerk your arms away and rub your jaw, hissing before pulling your hand back, staring at the blood on your fingers and palm,
“Was that...?” Dustin points to the car, before looking at you, catching the blood on your face and hand, “Ah, shit.”
. . .
“I swear to God, if I get another 3-Musketeers I’m going to kill myself.”
You snort and toss your hair up into a lose ponytail, taking your candy bag back from Mike as you glance at Lucas, who holds up said candy and grimaces.
“What’s wrong with 3-Musketeers?” Dustin asks, foreign high offense to the dark skinned males statement,
“What’s wrong with 3-Musketeers?” Luke repeats, chucking the candy so Dustin barely caught it, grinning at it before shoving it into his bag, “No one likes 3-Musketeers,”
“Yeah, it’s just nougat.” Will agrees, shrugging at your scrunched nose face,
“Just nougat?” Dustin protests, Will nodding, “Just nougat. It is top three for me.”
“Eh, top five.” You squint, ignoring Dustins glare,
“Top three?” Mike breathes, Dustin repeating in agreement, “Oh, God, give me a break!”
“Seriously, I could eat a whole bowl of nougat, straight up!”
Suddenly, a figure wearing a white mask jumps out in front of you, your brows furrowing when the four boys at your sides all screech, your eyebrow raising as you glance at them, then to the figure, “That’s it?”
“Seriously?” The figure pulls off the mask to reveal Max’s face, her mouth gaped as she stared at you. “Out of all of you I’d expect you to scream.”
“I’m not a pussy.” You snip, Dustin hitting your shoulder with this back of his hand. You roll your shoulder away from him, narrowing your eyes to your twin.
Max nods her head and turns, only getting five steps before she glances over her shoulder, noticing that you nor the four boys had moved to follow her, “You guys coming or what? I heard we should hit up Loch Nora, that’s where the rich people live, right?”
“Seriously?” You mock, Max’s face slightly falling at the irritation in your voice, “I thought you didn’t want to hang out with us because we’re ‘stalkers’?”
“Look, I didn’t mean that,” Max sighs, and you hum, tilting your head,
“Was that before or after you had your brother almost kill us?”
“Wait. What?” Will looks at you, confused, Max shaking her head and narrowing her eyes.
“You think I did that on purpose? He’s an asshole either way, and, he’s not my brother.”
“Whatever.” You look down at your bag, “Let’s just go to Loch Nora.”
. . .
“Another full size. Like, seriously, rich people are such suckers.” Dustin shoves another snickers bar into his bag, handing you a full (favorite/candy) bar so you smiled, elbowing his arm, “Wait.” Dustin looks at Max, “You’re not rich, right?”
“No.” Max laughs, “I live up Old Cherry Road.”
“That’s totally tubular.” Dustin speaks, looking at you to see you shaking your head, nose scrunched up, “What? Did I say it wrong?”
“Just don’t say it at all.” You demand, and Dustin rolls his eyes, glancing over when Lucas chucks another 3-Musketeers at him.
“Hey.” Max speaks up, your eyes shifting to her. “Look. I’m sorry I called you guys stalkers.” She shrugs. “But I mean. You guys were spying on me a lot.”
“Yeah, I’ll admit to that.” You breathe out a laugh, pulling out a sucker to unwrap. “But like I said earlier today, we don’t get a lot of new people here in Fucktown, so we get every chance we can to see a new face. Especially a cute one.”
You stop mid way of putting the sucker in your mouth, eyes widening in realization to what you had said. “Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Max shrugs, eyeing you. “I never said I didn’t think you were cute.”
“So you think I’m cute?” You grin, Max rolling her eyes.
“I’m not admitting it.”
“I’ll take it.” You click your tongue, looking over at Mikes shout for you. You see him knelt beside Will, whose hands are over his head in an attempt to curl himself into a ball.
“Will?” You drop your bag to move forward, kneeling down in front of your best friend so you could grab his wrists, noticing how he flinched roughly, “Will, it’s just me.”
“I saw it again.” Will breathes, his eyes snapping up to you. “The thing I saw at the arcade.”
Your brows furrow as you glance over to Mike, who shakes his head, informing you he didn’t know what Will was talking about. “Okay.” You murmur, pulling Wills hands so he began to stand up with you. “Let’s get you home.”
“Wait, you’re just going to stop trick or treating?” Max asks, and you glance at her, eyes slightly narrowed.
“Yes. I am. Dustin, take my bag. Eat my candy and I’ll pop your bike wheels.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Dustin clutches your bag and his to his chest, gasp loud. He watches as you link your arm through Wills, leading him down the street back towards Mikes house to call not only your mother, but Joyce.
“Are they, like, a thing?” Max asks, crossing her arms as she turns to the three boys left with her.
“Ew, gross.” Dustin scowls, nose scrunched. “They’ve been best friends since like, first grade.”
“Besides.” Lucas shifts his bag to hang over his shoulder. “Y/N likes girls.”
Max nods, slowly, glancing in the direction to where she could see your back, her feet bringing herself to follow after your brother.
117 notes · View notes
boymeetsweevil · 6 years
Text
For Science 4/7
Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook
Word Count: 9.6k (im sorry its so long!!)
Warnings/Themes: definitely probably nsfw but purposefully not that many again. drunk jungkook being angry and then clingy, idiot kook, making out? ANGST?? Hoseok being the slimiest being on the face of the earth, 
Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.
A/N: I would like to thank @b-angst-tan for beta reading this series as it is so far. I also would like to tag @m-icdrop , @jiminslye & @ephemeral-mindset to let you know that i finally got my shit together and posted lmao. hopefully i didnt leave anyone out who wanted to be tagged. if i did im very sorry and if you want to be tagged for subsequent posts, just DM me and let me know :)
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7
Tumblr media
You wonder if maybe you should have chosen something more weather appropriate as the chill of the still early air nips at your stockinged ankles. It was a hard choice: The fleece-lined sweatpants with the dried tide pod stuck at the hip or something cute and feminine so you could play catch-up with whatever nice thing Yoori was wearing. The sight of Yoori in a slightly similar outfit of an elegant pea coat and demure pleated skirt convinces you that you made the right decision. But while your anxiety about picking the right clothes wanes, a sudden wave of exhaustion hits you. Normally you would be able to rest on a Saturday after 90 minutes of contorting yourself into endurance-testing positions, but today you had no time to untangle mentally—only physically—as you rushed through a shower to give yourself enough time to run to your apartment to grab a change of clothes.
Yoori looks up from her phone and sees you approaching her where she stands by a Starbuck’s storefront. A large grin splits her face, revealing a pair of adorable dimples on each cheek. You’re not expecting her to shove her phone into her coat pocket so she can run over to you and crush you in her arms.
“Hi, how are you!”
“Oh, uh, I’m good. How are you settling in?” Her grasp is fairly constricting , but you try not to appear shaken as you spit her hair out your mouth.
“I’m doing fine. I leased my apartment while I was away so, I’m still at the hotel until that contract ends. But that’s only for a few more weeks. After that I’ll move back in and really be at home. You smell lovely by the way. What scent is that?”
“Thanks,” you blink, “It’s just soap.”
“Mm, what kind of soap?”
“The dollar store kind.” She nods with a smile. “Um, where are we going?”
“Just to this little place up on Main Street. It’s called La Lune, have you heard of it?”
“Of course I have. They’re notorious for only ever being un-booked twice a year! And even then it’s just because they’re taking breaks so the owner can fly to her house in Paris.”
Yoori plays with the sleeve of her coat. “I suppose it does have a bit of a reputation. I must have just gotten lucky with their date book.”
“Don’t you need an appointment to get in?”
“Yes,” Yoori trails off.
“Will we be able to even get in? I-I didn’t call ahead to make a reservation since you said you’d take care of the plans for today.”
“They said they have an extra spot open for us today since they’re training a new technician.”
You don’t push because you know what they say about looking gift horses in the mouth. But you can’t help but wonder how you could have gotten so lucky on your first attempt to get seen at the nail shop. Any suspicion you have about Yoori’s methods of getting onto the appointment book evaporates when you step foot into the shop.
From looking at the pictures of the interior that you could find on Google images, you know that the design is based off of a bunch of spas that the owner herself went to during her many travels to Europe. All the décor is a novel twist of organic meets minimal with polished woods and metals and clean, sloping lines all existing harmoniously. You sit down in a plush chair in the waiting area while Yoori chats enthusiastically with the woman sitting behind the front desk. She does a little spin for her as they most likely talk about how much prettier she looks since the last time she came to the shop.
After confirming the appointment, Yoori makes her way over and sits next to you. She leans over the arm of her chair to peer over your shoulder at the vials of designer nail polish in your hands.
“Do you know what color you’re going to get?”
“Not yet. I usually just do black since it doesn’t clash and it doesn’t make my fingers look as stumpy”
“What are you talking about? Your hands are precious.” She reaches over to bring one up to inspect. “You have such a nice natural nailbed color. A nude would be perfect.”
“You don’t have to flatter me, I know what my hands are like. We can’t all have perfect OPI model hands, Yoori.”
She grins at your indirect compliment. “You think they’re perfect?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Some things are just objective facts.” She’s quiet for a bit, a small expression on her face as she looks at you carefully.
“I think this shade would look good on you”, she picks out a specific soft shade that highlights that mimics that pink tone of your nails. “Plus, its suitable for the winter and spring. So, you could wear it for a while.”
“It’s really pretty. Thanks.”
“I could buy it for you. If you like.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing so much for me today as is. I—“
“Too late.” She swipes the bottle out of your hand and gets up to go pay.
The guilt is too much for you to sit back and let it happen, so you launch yourself out of the chair and rush past her to the front desk, debit card out and ready.
“I’d like the buy the shade that Yoori has in her hand, please. Thank you.”
Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t argue, and lets you buy the shade. You give her a pat on the arm and accept the tiny satin drawstring gift bag and try not to think about the chunk of money that just left your account.
You can only assume the rest of the nail appointment is nice but you can’t know for sure. You do know that you must have enjoyed yourself because you promptly fall asleep two minutes into the hot rock hand massage that comes with every booking. Yoori snapped a quick picture of your lax dreaming face and woke you up when the technician asked her what shape you wanted your nails. Leaving the salon finds you refreshed and with a beautiful manicure.
“Feeling hungry yet,” Yoori asks after she catches you staring wistfully at a random pedestrian with a bagel. “There’s still time for it to be brunch at the place I was talking about.”
“Yeah. It’s just too bad my nails are all nice now,” you joke. “Saturday mornings are for ribs at my house.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. They don’t have ribs on their brunch menu, I don’t think. Do you want ribs? I can check and see if there are any barbecue places that are open for lunch.” She fumbles for her phone and types frantically like she didn’t just get a hundred-dollar manicure.
“Yoori, Yoori, hold on! I was just kidding. There’s no way in hell I’m messing these nails up. I’m almost considering just drinking water for lunch so I don’t have to use my hands.”
“Wow, you…really got me.” She lets out a breath of relief before side-eyeing you. “Are you sure you don’t want ribs?”
“Positive.”
“Good,” she chuckles.
The two of you make small talk about what brought each of you to engineering as you take walking directions from Yoori’s phone. The walk ends at a pretty looking place with a yet another French sounding name. It’s filled to the brim with fresh flowers, giving the air a sweet scent that has your mouth watering even more. You take a chance and allow Yoori to order for you, trying not to be suspicious of the strange cheese dish she orders as an appetizer.
“—And that’s how we met Tae. We didn’t meet Hoseok until about a month later when he spilled his drink on me in line for the comic book signing at the campus bookshop that one year.”
“I think I remember that day, actually,” Yoori blinks up as if sifting through the memory in mid-air.
“Oh! Did you go? I feel like I would have noticed another girl there. I think I could count all of us there on one hand.”
“No, I wasn’t there. I’m not a comic book person actually. I just remember seeing all the people coming back in cosplay. There was actually this one really beautiful green elf costume I saw on my way to class. There were lights woven into the fabric and everything—I almost took a photo.”
Your cheeks heat up and you duck your head to take a sip of your extremely expensive blood orange mimosa. “That was actually me.”
“Was it really? Did you make it yourself?”
“No—well, yeah, I did the bulk. But Jungkook helped me a lot and Tae helped me find the materials.”
“And Hoseok?”
“Hoseok scratched his ass and watched.”
“Wow, I can’t believe that was you. It’s like destiny. We must have been meant to meet,” she lays a hand next to yours. You can’t help but notice how well the color of her pastel nails goes with your nude.
“Yeah, I suppose so. But enough about me, I feel like I’ve just been blabbering on and on about my friends.”
“No, I love hearing about them. I always envy people with lots of stories to tell about their friends. I feel like I have to ask,” she trails off, a shy smile splitting her face. “What’s it like being the only girl in that friend group?”
“It’s…only mildly frustrating,” you say with a laugh as your food arrives. It smells wonderful and given the amount of truffle shavings, you’re glad you chose to come here on a day that you weren’t paying.
“How so?”
“I mean, you know how guys are and you know how STEM guys are. Add to that the fact that they aren’t getting laid and you have a very interesting strain of emotional constipation.” Yoori nods along understandingly. “And let’s not forget all the stupid questions they ask me since they can’t ask any other woman.”
“That sounds like it might be frustrating.” You chuckle at her diplomatic tone.
“I mean it is, but they’re nicer than most guys and they mean well.”
The sly smile appears again and she leans forward to create a bubble of privacy.
“Nothing more than platonic has ever happened between you and one of them?”
Thankfully, a waiter rushes by and bumps the table a little and you can use that as an excuse for suddenly choking on your food. You certainly weren’t expecting her to inquire about your sex life so early into the conversation, and the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. Of course, the apple of Jungkook’s eye would ask you about which of your guy friends you’ve ever screwed around with.
You blot at your face with a cloth napkin. Luckily for you, the way you look when you’ve narrowly avoided asphyxiation and when you’re concealing guilt is very similar. “Oh my god, please. I’m trying to enjoy this food, not regurgitate it. But to answer your question, no. They’re not my type. They’re too…” you make some abstract gesture in the air with your fork and Yoori nods.
“What about Jungkook, then? Surely, he’s decent otherwise I’m sure you would have warned me by now.”
“No, he’s nice. He’s a little out of it sometimes, but that’s always been his thing, you know? But he’s really kind and warm and funny in his own way. Plus, he’s in love with you so I don’t think you have to worry about him doing the man-child thing too much.”
Yoori blushes and shifts in her seat, looking a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I figured as much.”
“Can I ask what took so long for you two to finally meet up? I just—I know he’s been contacting you for a while now.”
“It’s complicated,” she sighs.
“I can keep up.”
“You could say I’ve just always been very wary of the men in our department. They’re not your average guys, but they’re still men. They still want the same things from you. And,” she looks away from you to continue. “I wasn’t sure if Jungkook was that way as well. So, I kept my distance. This must seem pretty suspect to you. Especially since it happened after he got put on the department website. I’ve heard what some people have been saying.”
Your hands fly out to console her. “Oh my god, of course not. That makes total sense. You’re not obligated to entertain everyone who expresses interest in you. I get it.”
“Oh, gosh, I feel so bad.” She hangs her head in her hands and you watch helplessly as her hair nearly falls into her water glass. When you inquire why, she shakes her head with guilt. “Jungkook never outright expressed an interest in dating until a few weeks ago. All the times before that, he’d been a perfect gentleman via text. But it was the way he would stare at me in public with those…those moonpie eyes!”
“He does look like that sometimes. Especially with those glasses.” She points at you like you’ve hit the nail on the head.
After doing a cursory look around the restaurant to make sure no one around will be able to hear her confession, she elaborates. “It was just so obvious how he felt and I was so used to guys feigning wanting to be platonic friends only to corner me in the parking lot after what was supposed to be a friendly dinner out. I-I couldn’t trust him. But then I heard that you were friends with him and I decided I would give it a chance.”
“Why would you trust him just because of me?”
“I have my reasons. And I just figured if you were willing to be friends with him, he might not be so bad. Plus, my mom has been pestering me about getting married and I wanted to get her off my back.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. It means the world to him and he can finally stop pining silently. When is your first date,” you ask neutrally. Although you know that as soon as you get a date, you’ll have to terminate your weekends with Jungkook.
“Oh well we haven’t really discussed anything like that. I think he might ask about it soon, though. I’ll keep you posted.” The little eye roll and laugh she lets out breaks the heavy mood and you try to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.
“Tell me about your friends, Yoori.”
“Me? Well, I probably don’t have as much to say as you do. Most of my friends have long since finished the program and I’ve been so busy with my dissertation that I just don’t have as much time as I used to for hanging out and stuff like that.”
“I thought you were friends with Sunyoung. The bio double major? Jungkook said you were pretty close.”
“Well, he’s right. At first, we were. She’s been really busy ever since she got engaged, so,” she trails off.
“To that Jaehyun guy, right? But, wait,” you drop your fork as the details fall into place. “Weren’t you guys all friends? And didn’t they get married like half a year ago?” Your heart breaks when you realize Yoori may have been alone for at least 6 months while working.
“I could tell I was making things difficult by third wheeling, so Sunyoung suggested I give them some space.”
You were pretty certain you saw Sunyoung and Jaehyun hanging out with a few of the other women in the engineering building on the regular when you went to print things for class using the department printer. Even with her indirect language, it’s pretty clear what happened between Yoori and her friend and you don’t push. Though you do feel bad for the animosity you felt towards her when she first introduced herself.
“Well, I’m glad we met. It’s nice to finally have a new girlfriend,” you say. She looks up at you with slightly dim eyes but perks up when you lace your fingers together briefly.
The smile she gives you is brilliant and infectious. “Me too. So much,” she says quietly.
Tumblr media
When brunch ends, Yoori suggests continuing your stroll so you can walk off the post-food sleepiness. The weather is a bit brisk and there are unanswered texts from Jungkook on your phone, but you don’t say no and keep the notifications unread. Something about the fact that you’re in the shopping district with a pretty manicure and your pretty friend makes you feel good. Good in a way that you haven’t felt in a really long time.
You link arms and window shop for hours, though it doesn’t feel like it. She pulls you into store after store because she saw something that she thought would look ‘splendid’ on you. Somehow you manage to look past her imploring eyes and put the designer garments back on the rack, but not until after she’s made you try them on and spin around in them so she can sing your praises. While you browse each shop, you make comments about the other shoppers or the items that make her dissolve into giggles or make her cheeks flare up with a warm blush and a gaping, incredulous smile. By the time you finally part ways, you almost don’t want to get into the cab she’s called for you, but your feet are aching and the sun is starting to set. She blows you a theatrical air kiss and makes a surprisingly dorky ‘call me’ gesture with her hand that has you covering your face so she can’t see how hard you’re smiling. When you step out to face Jungkook’s building, the mood of the day’s outing lingers on you like a perfume. Or maybe it’s a halo. Either way, Jungkook notices something about you is slightly different when you finally arrive at his doorstep.
“Hey,” you greet him without looking and instead focus on getting your feet out of the little heeled booties you’d been wearing for so long.
“You changed?” His voice is muffled from where he lays with his cheek smushed into the sofa. The xbox controller in his hand dangles as he takes in your appearance. “When did you do that?”
“I went back to my house after yoga. I couldn’t go meet her in a rank t-shirt and the sweats that I slept in.”
When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to see why he’s so silent. One look at the handful of empty beer bottles sitting neatly by the floor by his feet lets you know what the deal is.
“You been drinking, Jeon?” Jungkook when he’s drunk is quite the handful, but the owlish way he blinks at everything when there’s liquor in his system is almost funny enough to make the rest of his drunk antics worth it.
“Yep,” he hiccups. He tries to shoot finger guns at you but almost ends up flipping you the bird.
It draws a string of giggles out of you. He squints and takes in your frizz free hair, your glowy skin, your nice blouse and skirt, the easy way you walk over to the couch to sit by him. His stare is tangible.
“What?”
“You’re really pretty,” he rasps and his hand reaches out without his permission to trace the swell of your cheek.
His comment takes you by surprise and you can only laugh awkwardly and lean out of his reach, unsure of what to do with such a blatant compliment.
“Wow, I spend one afternoon with Yoori and you’re calling me pretty? She must have rubbed off on me real good.” You take the controller out of his hands to un-pause the game of Zelda he was playing.
“S’not cause of her. ‘S cause you’re not hiding,” he mumbles before picking up the other controller that was laying off to the side. His comment doesn’t reach your ears which he’s secretly glad for. “You want a beer?”
“Sure.”
He reaches over the arm of the couch to fish out one of the leftover full bottles and hands it to you. He doesn’t say anything while he watches you chug half of it, meanwhile nudging the inside of his cheek with his tongue. A classic sulking Jungkook pose.
“Oh my god, what? Are you mad I got to spend the day with her and you didn’t?”
He blinks, surprised, when he realizes that he’s actually not mad about that. Rather he’s mad you spent so little of the precious Saturday with him, though it wasn’t clear at first. To think that he’s jealous of Yoori is funny enough to break him of his brief pouting session.
“Yeah,” he fibs, “but it’s fine.” He scoots clumsily nearer next to you. “You’re here now and there’s still the rest of the weekend.”
“That’s true. But I don’t want to play Zelda. Let’s do Mario Kart?”
“Loser each round has to take a shot and winner picks the next course?” He’s already stumbling his way back to the kitchen to pull the tequila bottle someone left in his fridge a while back and a pair of plastic shot glasses.
“Is there any other way?”
It takes three rounds, the first two of which are Rainbow Road, but you quickly catch up to him in terms of tipsiness level. Your whole body feels like its vibrating, and the tequila makes it seem like your blood is carbonated. Like you could float away at any moment. By a streak of luck and then redirecting to Bowser’s castle, you manage to get in the winning position. You’re on a roll and get cocky enough to start gloating, egging Jungkook’s underlying competitive nature on.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath as you cross the finish line 9 seconds before him. His stomach feels sloshy after four shots and the bottles of beer he downed earlier. You slam down his, now full, shot glass in front of him, spilling some of the clear liquid onto the table.
“That’s like, what, your fourth one? No, wait, it’s your fifth one. My bad.” You stick out your tongue as you perch next to him, pressing yourself to his back and reveling in the way he grimaces at the shot. “If I had known you would make the game so easy, I would have stayed out with Yoori.”
You’re so busy teasing him about his slow gaming reflexes that you don’t notice the way his smile twitches after he downs the drink. He moves uncharacteristically fast and all you can do is sit there as he tosses the tiny plastic cup to side and then turns to lunge at you. Your back hits the couch cushion with a soft thud and your breath leaves you in a whoosh. If it had just been him caging you into the couch because he was fed up with your taunting, it would be fine. But the moment his fingertips dig into your sides, you lose it and start thrashing.
Jungkook knows better than anyone else that you’re a wild tickling victim, all flailing knees and elbows. Truly a danger to anyone who dares to tickle you. But he’s still smart despite being five tequila shots and a few beers in and uses his bulk against you to keep your movement to a minimum. Perhaps it’s a little cruel to take it out on you, but he still can’t get over the selfish simmering of regret at not suggesting you ditch Yoori in favor of letting him spend the day wrapped up in you. He missed you, is what it really boils down to.
“No,” you cackle underneath him, “No, please! Jungkook this isn’t fair. Please!”
He merely flashes you his teeth in a mean grin and continues until your eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and you’ve stopped squirming so you can keep your bladder in check.
“Jungkook, please,” you beg softly in surrender, toes curling.
Maybe it’s the angle. Maybe it’s the pleading voice you’re using, maybe it’s the sparkly quality of your eyes, or the fact that you smell like lavender. The color, not the flower, he notes. Whatever it is, his eyes fall closed automatically and he leans in to slot his mouth over yours. It’s a slow kiss and even though his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, it has a chaste feeling still. You wriggle your arms out from under his weight and push him off you slowly. Thoughts of Yoori float around in the back of your mind and you can’t turn them away without feeling awful.
“We can’t get into anything today,” you snap and smooth out your skirt. “I got my period while I was out.” You wince when the lie comes out, but you don’t know if there’s any other way to put enough distance between you so you can keep your head straight.
He watches you look around until you spot your overnight bag at the end of the room. “Are you leaving?” His tone bleeds annoyance and takes on a sharp edge.
“Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious. Because it kind of is and the longer you stay, the weaker your resolve gets. “We can’t fool around if I’m on the rag.”
“Just because we can’t fool around, doesn’t mean I want you to leave.” He’s thinks for a second. “Do you want to leave?”
“Well, if we don’t fool around, I should probably go. Otherwise, why the hell am I here?”
His frustration flares up once more and you’re surprised that he’s as upset as he is. “Because I want you to be? And because maybe you want to be here too? Is that so weird? You said yourself this wasn’t anything to make a big deal of.”
“It’s not. But—”
“Then why the hell are you leaving?” He rakes both hands through his hair until he looks frazzled and barks out a sarcastic laugh. You’ve never seen him so angry with you before and strangely your first instinct is to get angrier.
“As opposed to sticking around? To do what?”
“I don’t know. Anything? We could play Mario Kart until our eyes bleed. You could let me practice kissing you and feeling you up all night. Or we could just be silent and drink until we both pass out. I really don’t care just…tell me what you want. Just stay if you want to stay.”
Your cheeks warm at his blunt words, but you put your bag down. He lets out a sigh of relief when you don’t charge out the front door, but he tenses up again when you head out the living room and only relaxes finally when he hears the shower start up. After nearly half an hour, you emerge looking squeaky clean and a little guilty in sweats. He’s not sure what the cause of the guilt is, but he tries not push. You shuffle over to stand in front of him, the sheepish curve of your shoulders making you look tiny.
You hesitate for a second before planting a knee on either side of his thighs and seating yourself in his lap. Your arms come to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders and you rest your cheek on top of his head.
“How was your day,” you mumble into the strands of his shiny chestnut hair.
He preens silently at the affection that he didn’t realize he’d been craving all day and his arms mirror yours. They come up to snake around your waist as he reclines a bit and shifts so he can relax into the couch without jostling you. Out of all of the things you’ve started physically doing with Jungkook, cuddling with him like this might be his favorite thing to do. There’s something incredibly satisfying about getting to bury himself in your scent and softness.
“Fine. Got my work done, skyped with RealiCorp. Met Tae for lunch. Tried to call you to see if you wanted to do dinner with us, but I guess you were busy. How was your time with Yoori?”
“It was,” you sigh, looking for the right word. “It was really fun. Honestly, its really nice to talk with another girl for a change. I’m glad we were able to.” He hums sympathetically and squeezes you a little tighter. “She’s really nice. You’ll be good together,” you admit.
He tenses a bit and changes the topic.
“I could fall asleep like this.” It’s the truth. The way your fingers run through his hair and the warmth of your breasts pillowing his head make him drowsy. Though he can’t focus on it as much as he’d like or else he’ll ruin the mood with an awkward boner.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, shifting so he can smile into your t-shirt.
“You’re so…” you can’t get the words out so instead you hastily smack a loud kiss onto his cheek.
It shocks both of you, but he doesn’t look put off. Instead, he merely adjusts his glasses, which you jostled with the force of your kiss. The gesture is so characteristically him that the floodgates open and you keep planting kisses on his face until he laughs and starts trying to catch your mouth with his own. He manages one or two cheeky kisses on your lips, but you swerve around enough to keep things PG. He huffs and keeps trying, one of his hands coming up to grab at your arm and keep you still. He leans forward, forcing you to lean back in his lap until you can’t anymore without risk of falling. When you clutch at his shoulders to maintain your balance, you’re right where he wants you.
Your eyes are squeezed shut as he brushes his nose against yours. It’s cute, he thinks. By now he knows in theory how you feel about period sex, but where’s the harm in kissing?
“Why are you being so shy? I just wanna kiss you,” he scoffs while attempting to nip at your bottom lip.
“Just kissing?” You open your eyes cautiously, lids at half-mast. He nods hurriedly, fingers drumming an impatient beat on the small of your back.
“O-Okay.” You barely get the word out before he’s swooping in with a low contented sound.
Making out just for the sake of making out reminds you of your time with your first boyfriend, the summer before college started. Only this is so much better because it’s Jungkook and because there’s no race to sex like there was when you were 18. Every press of lips is a deliberate choice and when you finally come up for air, somehow, you’re horizontal and are regretting the lie you told terribly.
He pulls away with a kiss-swollen pout and checks the time. When it’s an appropriate hour for bed and he suggests you both retire to the bedroom to watch TV before bed. You’re a little wary at first, but he’s a gentleman and doesn’t do anything untoward. He even lets you take control of his laptop and the HDMI cord while he writes continuously in his journal. You try to peer over at what he’s writing once you recognize it as his sex journal, but he pins you with such an offended look that you can only turn around feeling properly scolded without having actually been verbally addressed. You don’t think too much of the fact that he’s writing in it despite the fact that you haven’t done much in the amorous realm and he wrote on and off the entire day yesterday.
Even after you’ve watched three episodes of Elementary, he’s still writing. You unplug the computer and turn to look at him in his pretzel legged position. Every so often he’ll look over at you and then return to frantically writing in his journal. You try to engage him in an unspoken staring contest, but your eyelids drop closed and prevent you from winning. Only once it becomes clear that you’re trying to sleep does he wedge his journal underneath his half of the mattress and turn off the lights.
Tumblr media
Passing through the weekend and into the next week doesn’t suddenly bring things back to normal. Instead it feels as though you’ve entered the twilight zone.
You and Yoori text on and off all of Sunday and into Monday to compare schedules and see when you can meet up for some quality girl time. This means that Yoori has started to come meet you outside your lecture halls when your classes end to walk to the library together and you arrive at your agreed meeting spots with her preferred coffee order. Your nails are holding up amazingly and you tell her so constantly while she smiles at how excited you are at something she often takes for granted.
Yoori suggested you have your your study sessions in the corner of the library coffee shop because the picture window shows all the light snow you’ve been getting and provides a nice form of visual ambiance to work to. Sometimes the guys attempt to crash the sessions. Often times you have to shoo them away by letting them take your ID card to stock up on hot chocolates with extra whip from the front counter. Your funds are depleting at an alarming rate, but it’s better to have the uninterrupted time with your first girl friend in a long time so you can get to know her better.
“So, are you going home during winter break,” you ask one day while typing away at the results section of a lab report. Yoori sits across from you in an oversized cashmere sweater you wish you could pull of half as well as she does. She’s been working silently for nearly an hour and you know she won’t take a break unless you distract her from the work.
At the sound of your voice, her head pops up instantly, her loose bun spilling out of its structure with the movement and cascading down her back. A freshman walking by the table nearly slams into a door trying to keep looking back at the same time. She closes her laptop, completely unaware of her effect on the people in the surrounding area.
“Yeah, I am. I haven’t in the past few years but my grandparents are coming from the countryside, so I should probably go this time.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you. I’m sure they’d all like to see you.”
“Are you going?”
“No,” you give a bittersweet smile as you play with the damp stirring stick next to your drink. “My family lives too far away for me to be able to go home and make the plane ride worth it. I’ll probably see them in the summer, though.”
“Won’t you be lonely? Do you want to come home with me?” Her brow furrows in sympathy and she reaches out to rub at your arm.
“No, that’s okay, I’ll be fine. It’s not my first rodeo, you know. Plus usually some, if not all, of the guys stick around since they live nearby but still want a break from their families during the day. But thank you though.”
“Okay, well there’s still time if you want to change your mind.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you almost done?”
“Almost. I’m waiting on my VASP energies to come in and then I can update my poster and I’ll be all set.”
“VASP? Since when do you do chemistry,” you get up to peer at her computer screen.
Yoori pats the open seat next to her and let her explain the very quick favor she’s doing with a professor she’s been in contact with since undergrad when she thought she would be pre-health.
“—So basically, now she’s just waiting to evaluate grain boundary energies to see if the electrolytes we’re using actually have the right structure to make a difference in hydrogen atom velocities. And I’m just here to help with some minor calculations.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
A small ping from your phone alerts you of an incoming text from ~JK~.
Is Yoori with you?
“Um, I think Jungkook is trying to reach you.”
“Oh! I keep my phone on silent during the day,” she explains and hurriedly switches on the volume before opening whatever texts he must have sent her before he texted you.
“Really?”
“I have yours set on urgent, though.”
You grin. “And why’s that?”
“Because! What if you send me another meme about neural networks? I can’t just let it rot away in my inbox.”
“No one appreciates my memes like you do.”
“Aren’t I great?”
“So great,” you admit with clenched eyes and fists for dramatic feeling.
“I wish I didn’t have to go. I’m enjoying you complimenting me.”
“Oh. Are you headed somewhere?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The energy files just arrived and I’m about to finish entering them. I think Jungkook wants to meet up to discuss things, so I’m just going to pack up now and meet him at the dining commons before the dinner rush kicks in. I’ll text you later.”
“Okay, sure.”
After Yoori packs up to leave, you consider texting Jungkook to ask what he plans on discussing with her, but it feels so clingy and invasive that you’re ashamed of yourself and force yourself to dive into work. The lab report is nearly done, but there are a few articles you could read to get further ahead in your classes. It takes a long while, and you work through the usual dinner time to do it, but you manage to finish thanks to having turned your phone off as soon as Yoori left.
When you turn it back on there are a few recent messages from Taehyung and Hoseok inquiring about late night munchies plans. You figure eating with them is better than eating soup alone in the middle of the nearby convenience store. And better than ignoring the messages in favor of going home early to have pity sleep for dinner. You text them back saying that you’ll meet them in 10 and pack your things up.
You arrive at the smoothie place feeling haggard and not ready to balance Taehyung’s energy and Hoseok’s chaotic existence. The bright side is that there is a medium chocolate shake sitting in the empty seat at the tiny high table they’ve managed to save. You greet them with a tired smile and immediately suck down the drink, reveling in the way the chocolate is already lifting your spirits a bit.
“You look like shit,” Hoseok greets you. Taehyung slaps his arm, but turns to you with concerned eyes.
“Are you sleeping?”
“Why are you guys acting like you don’t see me passed out throughout random parts of the day 80% of the time?”
“Because you don’t look like you do,” Hoseok quips. At your blank stare, he goes back to innocently sipping his guava juice. “Just looking out for you, buddy.”
“Yeah, well I slept all of this weekend, thank you very much. What about you guys? You get up to trouble at the Dairy Queen again? Is that why we’re here this time?”
Tae nods somberly. “Hobi put lit firecrackers in their dumpsters again. But this time he almost caused their elderly delivery guy to go into cardiac arrest.”
“Something is wrong with you.” Hoseok merely winks at you in response.
“The worst part is that I didn’t even have anything to do with it, but they still wouldn’t let me in, even when it was just me and Kook,” Taehyung whines.
Hoseok snorts. “Ok, that’s on you. You were my accomplice even though you technically didn’t touch the fireworks but people remember your face better than they do mine. Should have waited at least a week before trying to go back in there.”
“Wait, this was all in one weekend?”
“Yeah,” Tae reaches over and dips a fry into your cup. “The fireworks were Friday, after game night. And then we tried to go in on Saturday, but they wouldn’t let us in. We tried calling you and everything.”
“You’re mad at me now? It’s not like I could have helped you.”
“Yeah, you could have,” Hoseok corrects, gesturing to your general chest area. “You’ve got the tits for that sort of thing.”
“Why are we friends,” you ask him with a soulless smile.
“Because you won’t let me motorboat you.” His response is immediate and just as dry. It spooks you a little.
“Well, I’m gonna go. I would say it’s been fun, but it hasn’t.”
“Wait!” Taehyung scrambles out of his chair and helps you back into yours. “You can’t leave. Jungkook might be done soon and said he’ll try and meet up with us. It’ll be the first time we’ve all been out together in such a long time.”
“We literally saw her on Friday,” Hoseok groans and tosses his head back in what looks like a mini tantrum. You roll your eyes.
“That was at Kook’s house, that’s not ‘out’. It doesn’t count.” Taehyung turns to plead with you, eyes big and starry, with a comical pout on his face. “Please stay? For me? Ignore him. I do.”
“Hey!”
“Fine,” you sigh before shaking your empty cup. “But I need another one of these. And Hobi is buying.”
“Like hell I am.”
“Do I have to remind you that if it weren’t for you and your whipped cream fixation, I wouldn’t be in the red for dining dollars and I might be able to afford my own drinks from time to time? You owe me, Jung.” You try to poke his sternum menacingly, but he moves to snap his teeth at your finger and you quickly pull back with a shriek. He agrees, though its reluctantly at best.
While Hoseok waits in the line to order your refill, Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours. Carefully, he attempts conversation.
“How are you holding up?”
“With what, work? It’s the same as always. Tedious.”
“No, I mean with…Did Kook not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That he planned to officially ask Yoori out tonight,” his voice is quiet and uncertain.
“Oh. No, he didn’t tell me. But, it’s not like its our right to know. He’s an adult. H-how did you find out, though?”
“He told me.”
“And me,” Hoseok says as he sets down the second milkshake in front of you.
“I see.”
You start drinking on autopilot, too busy thinking about why Jungkook wouldn’t tell you such big news despite your being his best friend. You figure maybe he found out about your big fat crush on him and decided he’d rather tiptoe around you than have to let you down gently. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough about you enough to tell you these things now that Yoori was in the picture. What’s good is that the latter thought doesn’t make any resentment towards Yoori rise in your stomach. Instead you just want to curl up in a ball and wonder you did in your past life to deserve such a horrendous love life. Or, you suppose, lack thereof.
“He just shared his location. I think he’s on the way,” Taehyung tentatively disrupts you from zoning out any further.
If you hurried, you could probably take the campus shuttle home and be on your way home before Jungkook arrives, but part of you wants to see how he’ll explain his decision to you. You decide to stay because you don’t want to be anything less than supportive of his new relationship though it’s kind of crushing you in the process.
“Tell him to hurry up, then. You know what happens when I drink cold things,” your voice is light and a little bouncier than is appropriate and you know Taehyung knows what’s going on in your head. But Hoseok doesn’t and you don’t want him to.
Jungkook arrives 10 minutes later with Yoori in tow. She looks sheepish until she sees you sitting at the table and her dimples make an appearance. She runs ahead of Jungkook to envelope you in a hug. You’re still working on the physical boundaries of your friendship given that you’re not a huge fan of suffocation. Still, you pat her arm and let her get her fill before pulling back and offering up half of your chair. She gratefully accepts it and links arms with you immediately after settling down. Everyone scoots closer to open up more space and Jungkook pulls up a seat as well.
“It’s good to see you both, again,” Yoori chirps politely. Hoseok melts at the sound of her voice and beams at her. It’s gross.
“We’re good. It’s nice to see you so often now.” Taehyung chances a look at you. The initial shock of watching you and Yoori become fast friends apparently still hasn’t worn off. You don’t blame him but he’s so obvious about it.
“It is, isn’t it? You guys are just so fun to be around.”
“We like hanging out with you too, Yoori.” Hoseok’s voice climbs almost half an octave trying to sound so abnormally accommodating. Everyone else tries to contain their laughter. “You know, you still haven’t come visit me at the dance studio. I’m starting to get hurt feelings.”
“W-well, it’s just that I’ve been so busy and I still haven’t figured out a gap in my schedule when I can properly come see you. I’m very sorry,” she squeezes your arm unconsciously as she bows her head a little to him in apology. Your pulse picks up sympathetically for her.
“Hobi, if she wanted to see you do sweaty body rolls in an empty room, don’t you think she would have done it already?” When his smile twitches at your comment you add a quick, “I’m only trying to be realistic. I’m looking out for you, buddy.”
Yoori hisses your name in your ear, but you can tell that she’s trying not to smile at your sharp wit from her tone of voice.
“Anyway,” Hoseok starts up again, “Yoori, don’t you and Jungkookie have some good news to tell us all?”
Yoori’s cheeks redden at the sudden shift in topic and she looks to Jungkook for help. His face is similarly pink with embarrassment, but he still clears his throat like he’s about to make a toast.
“It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to say that I can’t do game night this Friday since I’ll be having dinner with Yoori in town.”
“You’re all welcome to join us, if you like,” she quickly amends. Your eyes widen and you swoop in to help Jungkook save face. You know it probably took him a lot to muster the courage to ask her out in the first place and if you don’t do anything, you know Hoseok will gladly wriggle his way in and ruin the date.
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly intrude on your dinner. But, thank you, for the offer. Right Tae? Right, Hobi?” Hoseok sulks but wordlessly agrees to stay out of their date.
“Yeah,” Taehyung jumps in to help you. “We’ll just have the game night at my place. I want to play cards anyway, instead of console games this time around.”
Everyone nods until the awkward air dissipates and all that’s left is the background noise of the diner and the sound of people finishing their drinks. The cold from your shakes starts to seep into your bones and you decide to use this as your exit ticket.
“Hey, sorry to ruin the fun, but I’m freezing and I didn’t bring a real jacket, so I think I’m gonna head home. You guys have fun without me, though.”
“You can just wear my sweater,” Jungkook pipes up and begins to pull the thick, woolen pullover he was wearing over his head. But you hold your hand up to stop him as you get down from your stool and collect your trash.
“No, Kook, you’re fine. I’m just gonna use the cold as motivation to get to the bus quicker. Have a good night, everyone.”
“It’s colder out there. At least take his sweater,” Yoori calls out to you. “For me,” she adds when you look like you’re thinking about it.
“Fine,” you huff as you take the sweater from Jungkook. You slide it on in front of everyone so they can have their worries assuaged. It’s still toasty from his leftover body heat and smells like his laundry detergent. He might not get it back for a while. “See? I’ll definitely be fine now.”
“Why don’t I go with you? I’ve still got a robotics assignment I have to work on. Plus, we can split cab fare instead of waiting for the bus.” Tae shrugs on his own coat and goes to stand by you.
“Okay.” You ignore his probing look until you finish waving to everyone and leave the restaurant.
Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets as you request a ride home through an app on your phone. The silence is companionable, but the waves of pity and sympathy rolling off Taehyung are damn near palpable and you’re about to burst if you don’t address it.
“Just say what you’re thinking. I can practically hear it anyway.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m not 12. I’m not going to be devastated just because they’re going out on one date.”
“Yeah, but,” Taehyung hesitates for a bit, trying to cushion the blow, “You know it’s just a matter of time before they become official, right?”
“I know that too,” you wince when your voice cracks a little.
“If you ever need anything, you know we’re here for you.” You raise an incredulous eyebrow at the implication that Hosoek would do anything less than laugh in your face if you came to him looking for comfort. “Well, I am, at least.”
“I know, Tae. Thank you.” You let him wrap you in a one-armed hug, but don’t let him pull away so you can steal his warmth as you wait for your car to arrive.
Tumblr media
Yoori’s apartment is nicer than anything you’ve ever seen. So much so that you have a hard time believing that you even live in the same town. It’s technically not your first time visiting her building and you’ve called many a late night cab from her plush lobby. You’ve even started to make small talk with her doorman since you’re there so often. But something was keeping you from coming up and visiting her actual apartment. All the times you’d hung out off campus had been at your place or at Jungkook’s place. There had been a lull in all that since Jungkook announced that they’d be going on a date only a few days prior.
After that fateful day, it was hard to act like there hadn’t been subtle changes in the way people were acting. Jungkook was suddenly super busy or always at the gym and couldn’t ever pick up your calls. And when he did return them it was only when you were dead asleep and couldn’t pick up your phone. For that, you were actually kind of grateful because you were certain that the next time you saw him on your own, he would try to break it to you that he couldn’t return your affections and that you could no longer be friends.
Taehyung and Hoseok, on the other hand, were still somewhat normal, but Hoseok was too excited about Yoori’s unofficial entry into the friend group and Taehyung kept soft-touching you like he could take up your pain through osmosis. Yoori was the only one who hadn’t suddenly turned weird and it was only because she wasn’t aware of the chaos floating around you all.
When she’d asked you to come shopping with her on the high street, you had a hunch that it was so she could get some new outfits for the many date nights with Jungkook ahead. You didn’t expect her to try and rope you into buying things as well, though you managed to get out it by truthfully explaining to her that Taehyung and Hoseok were still using your student ID like it was a credit card in someone else’s name and you had to be frugal as a result. But just when you thought you were in the clear as you approached her building, she invited you up to help her style the stuff she bought and stick around for dinner. To keep from having to explain yourself, you said yes.
But you instantly regretted it as you stood in the middle of her chicly decorated bedroom with picture windows and realized that despite the fact that you were extremely fond of Yoori, there was still a very small part of you that wished you had her life. It felt juvenile and reminded you that even after you stopped being a teenager you still had a ton of self-esteem issues left to address. The sooner you finished helping her with her outfits, the sooner you could maybe curl up on her couch and down the bottle of wine you bought while you were shopping earlier.
“I don’t think I like this one as much now that we’re not in the store anymore.” Yoori frowns at her reflection from inside the walk-in closet. The fact that she had a walk-in closet did not surprise you, but your mouth still dropped open when you the little seating area and the full-length panel of mirrors inside of it.
You finish picking out an alternative and then call out to her. “Come out and let me see it?”
She emerges in a short and slinky dress that would be perfect if it weren’t for the way it slouched at the neckline. It seemed intentional in the store with the way the salesman was pushing hard for her to buy it, but now it looked oddly frumpy.
“I think I see what you mean. Turn?” She obeys and turns gracefully, the skirt flaring out around her hips. “Why don’t you try these? They’d look amazing with that red blouse you wore when we went to the movies that one time.” You hand her some satiny trousers that she picked up on a whim but ended up really liking. If she paired them with red, Jungkook’s favorite color, he’d eat his heart out.
“You’re right, I think this is the one,” Yoori smiles widely at you and comes out with two pairs of shoes in her hand. Silently you point to the pair that would go better with the outfit, the ones with a subtle gold traces etched into the stiletto heel.
“If you want, you can wear your hair in a ponytail. Show off your neck, he’ll like it.”
“Really?” She laughs, slightly bashful. “Is he a neck guy?”
“For you? He’s a neck guy, hand guy, lips guy, ass guy. You name it.” As soon as Yoori hangs up her outfit for the date and puts it on her closet door, you flop face first into her bed, exhausted in so many ways.
“Why do you know so much about his, um, preferences? Is he vocal about that sort of thing?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” your voice is muffled by her bedspread.
“And are you not vocal about that sort of thing, then?”
Luckily she can’t see your face as you roll the question around in your head. You’re no prude and if it weren’t for the unfortunate series of events that is your life, you would love nothing more than to swap sex stories with Yoori as a form of bonding. But given that you can’t and you don’t really want to end up having to listen to her talk about sex with him when it comes, you decide one more white lie won’t hurt.
“I’m just a really private person, so I don’t really do that.”
“Good to know,” she chuckles and you miss the disappointed look on her face when she realizes she won’t be able to share with you. Although, it would make sense that you wouldn’t want to hear her talk about your childhood best friend like that. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Sleep.”
“Are you tired? How about we take a rain check and think about it again in a few hours? I’m gonna go come up with some slides for my coding class, but you’re welcome to nap in here and I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.”
“That…sounds great. Thanks, Yoori.”
“No problem.”
You wait until she closes her bedroom door and you’re certain you’re alone. When the sound of the soft music that she plays when she works drifts through the speakers in her living room, you crawl up to the head of the bed, get under the covers, and cry into the pillow. The sleep that follows is amazing though and you think it’s half because your body was running on fumes and half because Yoori has the best mattress you’ve ever slept on.
2K notes · View notes