#like even the dude ‘leftovers’ would already start moving to group up with each other. it’s just me who’s left out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sourbat · 4 years ago

Note

is hammertooth 39 (secret admirer) ok? It might be for any other ship instead if it's already asked !

*throws arms* have an entire fic.

Heads up: i cheated and wrote an AU

Rehearsal was every Tuesday and Thursday, from 5pm onward, though it was unusual for practice to extend beyond nine. Even in the rare instances it did break past the dreaded four-hour barrier, Toki wasn’t too worried. The cold still of the night never bothered him so long as he had space to move and breathe in, along with the lamplight to remind him he was above ground, and enjoyed the ten-minute walk from the rehearsal studio to the small building that served as both a used bookstore and café. Tonight wasn’t any different. It was just past nine when Toki entered the café, plaintive expression replaced with a hit of musical nostalgia and the hot, tasty aroma of roasting coffee.

Toki took to visiting the café two weeks into joining the band, after a session ended with a nasty downpour. Toki had somehow missed the industrial, brick building that hosted both shops until late at night while shivering and waiting for his bus that only arrived by the hour past eight. Though he barely read anything past age twelve, and had hardly any money to spare, Toki took residence in the store filled to the brim with dry-smelling books, posters, tie-dye shirts, puzzles and board games, and Toki eventually found himself cozily situated at a table located in the furthermost corner of the café, where the boundary between books and nitro cold-brewed drinks met. It was past nine, and hardly a soul was ordering anything caffeinated at this hour, but no one told Toki to leave, so he stayed. No one told him off the second time he stumbled in, this time entering through the café side of the parlor, and once Toki grew familiar with the table nearest the glass pane with a view of street, decided he’d make the warm-smelling shop a permanent fixture of his rituals until politely asked to leave.

Winter had officially arrived, and though the weather paled in comparison to Norway’s frosty, white winters, Toki donned his fair share of layers as he stepped inside the café. He was hit with a warm, flavorful scent, and inhaled deeply as he glanced at the counter, spotting the backside of the tall barista busy draining old decaffeinated coffee into the sink, and walked to his usual spot. He passed old music posters of punk-rock bands, indie groups and displays stapled to the brim with “wanted” ads or requests for roomies, and located his seat tucked by the window.

There was a cup of coffee waiting for him when he arrived.

Once he set his guitar aside, Toki eyed the cup, picked it up, and wasn’t surprised that it was still warm. He also wasn’t surprised when he removed the foam protector and saw the same sloppy heart hurriedly etched by the barista when he took the order, and wasn’t too shocked when he brought the lip to his nostrils and inhaled that delectable scent of sweet white and bitter chocolate intermingling with one another. Toki glanced around the area, spotting an older gentleman reading the paper, two students engaged in vigorous studying, the barista sorting through the remaining biscuits and treats in the display rack, and another employee pushing a tray of books just outside the café’s perimeter.

This was the fourth time Toki was greeted with a cup of coffee, and the fourth time he missed out on figuring out who had ordered it for him. The first time was understandable: rehearsal ended earlier than normal after a string snapped and cut Skwisgaar’s hand, and when Toki snuck inside, had a long line of people asking for smoothies and precooked take away meals. With all the hulabaloo, Toki barely noticed when the barista slipped by his table, dropped off the cup, and told him “it’s on the house” before parting, giving Toki no time to respond. By the time Toki finished being so giddy over the surprise gift, had considered that he’d need to give himself a shot before drinking, so much time had passed and when he looked around the café. He couldn’t begin to sort through the crowds and determine who bought him the surprised drink. The second time was stupidity on his part, having forgotten the promise of checking the café because it had been so cold, and upon being granted the cup, was so thankful he only had the forethought to thank the barista before greedily using the hot cup to warm his tired, chilled spirits. The third was a bust because, like today, when Toki arrived the drink was already waiting for him. Toki thought about asking the barista since he was the one filling the orders, but because Toki knew the barista was friendly with the girl customers and coworkers, he was hesitant to ask for a name.

He rubbed the tip of his nose, enjoying the heated friction caused by plastic and chocolatey steam, then settled into his seat and took the first warm sip. The beverage was warm, but not as hot as it normally was when he arrived half-past eight. Whoever was buying him drinks either probably had to leave before or around nine.

Toki took another sip, smiling to himself and whomever his secret admirer might be.

What if it’s a dude, Toki pondered midway through a gulp that, despite the beverage’s lukewarm temperature, still managed to fill his chest with a comforting warmth. Whoever was buying him drinks, Toki wished they weren’t so shy. Bad enough Toki had a miserable time figuring out when a person was flirting with him. He finally had someone signaling their direct interest, and they were too afraid to approach little ol’ him for a small chat. Toki didn’t see why. He’d love for someone to sit down with him and let him in how they figured the combination of white and dark chocolate would be his favorite, or give their opinion on the ancient, but tasteful punk that played muted in the background of the café side of the shop. Of course, Toki would also love to know when they noticed him, developed a crush, and decided to help bring an end to his long, cold nights with something so sweet and thoughtful, but for now would settle for a simple “hello.”

He finished his drink quickly, enjoying the warmth while it lasted, and settled into his corner, eyeing the intersection and bus top near the corner. A few minutes passed, and something knocked gently against his table. Toki jolted, turned and saw the tall barista retract his hand to then point a finger at the neglected cup.

“Hey, man,” he greeted coolly, offering a short nod to Toki. “You good?”

Toki couldn’t help but notice the clock on the wall, saw it was thirteen minutes to closing, and the barista’s serene politeness was likely a passive means of trying to kick him out. He gave him a nervous nod in return, then reached for his guitar case’s strap as the barista picked up the cup.

“You headed out already?” the barista commented once Toki slung the case over his shoulder.

Toki made one glance at the barista. It only then dawned on him that his admirer might be one of the workers in the store. The urge to ask the barista filled his gut with butterflies, and when the older man asked if there was something on his mind, Toki shook his head, stood so quickly his case almost got trapped with the chair, and stumbled off.

Perhaps another night, Toki thought, then exited the café.

…

After a particularly good, but exhausting rehearsal, Toki arrived at the café just shy of 8:42 p.m. The last of the early Christmas shoppers were making their rounds on the book half of the store, and there were a few shoppers, mostly families, huddled around the dessert and snack display.

When he exited the bathroom, Toki was greeted to the surprising snap of peppermint mixed with his mocha, along with a decent helping of cracked peppermint and chocolate sprinkles coating the whipped top. There were quite the number of cute, friendly faces in the area, though Toki was helplessly lost at determining whether the occasional glance in his direction was a possible sign of interest. He does pick up on the heat of his cup, and when he slides the foam covering down, sees the same sloppy heart had smeared when he pressed and dragged the cardboard against it.

Maybe it is a worker, he thought, eyes wandering around, darting between hanging lightbulbs, tables covered with neglected magazines and leftover gift wrapping. Given the size of the bookstore, chances were it was one of the late-night shift workers. Toki’s eyes settled on a family leaving the café, holding some wrapped books, and felt his stomach tickle as he took another sip of his delicious drink. They could be seasonal, he worried, after dwelling on the thought a bit longer.

A sharp voice called out a name, and when Toki trend, saw the barista leaving the pick-up counter to start chatting with the young woman working alongside him. The thought to ask the barista arose once more, and this time Toki counted on the unspoken bond between men to hopefully work up the courage to ask the older gentleman. Sure, the guy was always so friendly with the girls, but that didn’t change the laws of nature, right? Guys looked out for each other, Toki concluded, and convinced himself to leave the seat and approach the line once it had shrunk to an acceptable wait.

Toki stared at a few delectable treats, unaware that he was up next until the barista called for him.

“Hey there,” he greeted, voice cheery and befitting for the season.

Toki nervously fidgeted once the man caught his attention. A sharp, brown eye settled on Toki. “Uhm, hellos,” he said, both amazed and discouraged that his confidence would vanish so quickly with a simple look.

The barista glanced at his coworker, sent her silent nod, then returned to the register. He rested both hands on the counter, and with a friendly countenance, asked, “Anything I can get ya, man?”

The question was friendly enough, and the man, despite his rough features, had a nice smile that drew Toki forward.

“Uhm, askually…” The barista gave a nod. Toki thought about how he overstayed his welcome the last time, and wondered if the barista remembered, or cared. Probably not, Toki thought, or hoped. Prayed. “I justs wanted…”

“We got an issue in the back.” The female coworker popped her head from a room, her thick hair bouncing as she learned against the opened doorway. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re missing a shipment of soy and coconut milk.”

The barista’s smile faded as he turned and met with the girl. “Are you kiddin’ me?” he asked, then promptly returned to Toki and, with a slightly strained smile, said, “Sorry, man. One second.”

Toki nervously fiddled with his hands as he accidentally listened in on the conversation, catching on the older man’s growing frustration, and the woman’s insistences that it wasn’t her fault, that he should have a word with the blond with the glasses, that this always happens when she takes a day off from work. Suddenly, the question seemed stupid. Suddenly, Toki realized he was about to ask a stranger something rather personal. An agreement that the barista ultimately partook in, but a sacred act that was still rather private. And what if the barista refused to share the name, or the female worker thought he was weird for asking? Was it weird to be asking in the first place?

The barista abruptly returned. “I’m sorry. Do you mind wait–”

Caught in the moment, and terrified of having nothing to say, Toki’s eyes settled on the older man’s rolled-up sleeves, and he frantically blurted, “I just wants to tells you I likes your tattoos. Really ams a cool sleeves. Well, goodnights.”

He about-faced before either worker could react to his rushed fray of words and slipped back into his seat, burying his face with a beanie as he inwardly swore at how terrible that went. There was a good chance he'd have to avoid visiting the café side of the store come next week, and quite possibly after that. Maybe for the rest of his life.

Toki slumped, rested his head on top of the table, and stared dejectedly at the cup. After a few minutes, he lifted his stare, catching the bright shimmer of the Christmas decorations slowly encroaching on the industrialized setting of the café.

It would be so nice to know who his admirer was before Christmas, he thought.

…

The following week Toki spent all day at work, doing his and picking up Murderface’s shift (the man complained of an upset stomach, though Toki had his doubts), and after a long day, dragged his heavy instrument down the nearly hour-long route of bus rides, only to have Pickles greet him at the front doors of their rented space to let him know that rehearsal was cancelled. Nathan’s dad suffered some minor injury, but the event left their singer so shaken that he departed early to visit his family. Skwisgaar called the house earlier, but Pickles had an inkling Murderface would be too lazy to call and update Toki on the news, and as such, waited here to drop him back off at his place.

After pulling two shifts, Toki welcomed the ride, stowed his guitar in the back, and reclined his seat as far back as he could, then rested on his side. Pickles jokingly warned him to sit his ass up while they passed through the gentrified part of the neighborhood, lest a cop pull them over. Once he did, Toki spotted the café and secondhand bookstore.

The light at the intersection turned red, and as Toki stared inside the shop, became painfully aware of how close the holidays were, and how badly he wanted to know who it was who was buying him drinks. Toki glanced at the red light. If he drove off with Pickles now, that unknown admirer would leave behind a gift that no one would drink. The thought left Toki uneasy, filling with a funny guilt that made little sense. It wasn’t as though he could prove his secret admirer was even around when he arrived…though, the longer he thought about it, the less that made sense as well.

The light turned green, and right as Pickles hit the gas, Toki fumbled in his seat, and requested that Pickles drop him off here and please take his guitar home for him.

“Ya sure about this?” Pickles asked a final time before reaching across his seat to shut the passenger door. “S’ gonna be real cold tonight.”

“Ams sure,” Toki said, smiling through chattering teeth at the already rapidly declining temperature. He rubbed his cold palms together, feeling the wrinkled twenty that Pickles so graciously provided him once Toki explained his story, and forced a still grin upon his taut, shivering face. “Thanks for helpins, Pickle.”

“No prob, dood,” the older man replied. “Do me a favor? They don’t show up by half-past eight, give me a call. I’ll take ya to a bar n’ we can drink through this.”

“Okays.”

Pickles revved the engine. “Don’t wait too long, Toki.”

“I won'ts,” Toki replied through shudders, but knew it would be at least three hours before he could fully determine who was buying him the drinks.

Toki managed the first hour well enough, visiting various nearby stores and distracting himself as best he could, but found himself leaving after only a few short minutes, constantly drawn to the used bookstore and café. By the second hour, it was getting uncomfortably snappish, and Toki could see each miserable exhale, and felt the sting of every other inhale. Knowing the risks, he huddled near the bookstore, waited for a group to enter, and joined them and entered through the bookstore half of the shop.

He hid amongst the puzzles and board games, which proved to do a better job at keeping his mind off the inevitable as he read through summaries, rules and guidebooks. Once it neared eight, and Toki knew his drink would be placed around that time, he edged closer, covering a portion of his face with a scarf, and his forehead with his beanie, hoping that it would be enough to obscure his identity as he peeked around a display of recycled bookmarks, gift cards and keychains and stared into the café portion of the store.

By now, the familiar rock music that lulled in the background was gone and replaced with slightly muted holiday melodies filled with the jingle of bells. Though he’d sequestered himself in the store for an hour, the sight of his empty table made him shiver. He checked the time with his phone, saw he had about fifteen minutes left before the estimated time of ordering, and backed himself into a row of classical science fiction.

He maneuvered through some rows, shifting his position and checking the table from another vantage point. He caught the female barista on her phone, checking a text while the line was empty. Toki waited a bit longer, picking up this year’s best sellers and pretending to show interest, when he overheard the male barista call for his partner to man the register.

Toki lifted his stare, saw the clock on the wall, and realized this was just about the right time for the order to be made. About this time, Nathan would normally tell everyone he was done for the night, and Toki would take his ten-minute walk over here and enjoy his surprise drink.

“Still just a heart, Hammersmith?”

“Whatever. Just ring it up for me.”

Toki lowered the magazine further as he watched the male barista mark up a cup and attend to his work. The girl snickered, leaned across the countertop and tapped her fingernails against the register to charge the man for his drink.

“Y’know, this would be a lot easier if you wrote your number,” she said, paying no mind as the older man cast her a roll of the eye before returning to the drink. “Or, better yet: you can just hand him the drink and tell him you’re interested.”

“Customers,” the man stiffly replied, and the younger of the two shook her head, faced the front, and greeted the two older women making their way towards the front counter.

Toki’s heart suddenly jumped into his throat as he caught the older man turning, reaching beneath the counter and grabbing a container of whipped cream for his newly finished drink. His interest grew as he focused in on the man, watching thin lips form an even finer line as he covered the top of the drink with a nice, bounteous amount of whipped cream. As he grabbed a small shaker filled with sprinkles, Toki fumbled. His heart trembled, remembering how gently the man had knocked on his table last week. Toki had assumed his smile and polite manner were nothing more than a nice way of trying to coax a customer out of a closing store. He didn’t consider how confused the older man had been when Toki suddenly left, and how apologetic he’d been last Thursday when his coworker called him aside.

Toki gave one final, distanced glance at the older man as he covered the lid to his drink, walked around the counter and carried it all the way to Toki’s specified table. As the man hovered over it, readjusted its placement so it was more aligned on the center, Toki fixated on the older man’s hair, lush and tied in a bun, and the right of his arm that lacked the same amount of ink as the left, but possessed a few decorative rings that took to Toki’s fancy. He saw the man’s weary, but fretful smile as he backed from the table, returned to the counter where his coworker signaled one final “really?” before replacing her sarcastic gleam with amore controlled appearance.

The drink rested upon the table. Toki swallowed, then shoved his hand deep into his jacket’s pocket. The wrinkled twenty crinkled in his shaking, sweating hands.

Without a care of how it might look, Toki left the aisle and walked straight into the café. The older man didn’t notice, but the woman sure did, and once her forest-green eyes set upon and read the determination in Toki’s eyes, stepped aside and vanished into the back of the store.

Toki knocked on the counter. “Hellos?”

“Abby, customer–” The man glanced over his lanky shoulder, spotted Toki at the counter, and stopped himself from saying more. He quickly removed himself from the sink, then greeted Toki with a charming, albeit less prepared, grin.

“Heys,” Toki said, smiling warmly at the man. His eyes dropped to the nametag situated on the man’s apron. “Magnus?”

The man lifted his head at the sound of his name. “What can I do for you, man?”

“Wants to order something nice,” Toki answered, English slipping and turning messy near the end as he yanked the twenty from his pocket. “Whats do you recommends?”

Magnus turned slightly, eyes shifting passed Toki to the drink he’d just made him.

“Oh, donts worry about that,” Toki replied before Magnus could say a word. “Ams not gonna wastes a free drinks!” If he could say a word. Toki figured the man, despite his rough contours and cool appearance, was as shy as he figured his secret admirer to be. If his position didn’t force him to remain quiet, the fear of public rejection most certainly would.

“Well…” the man cupped his large hands together, “We have a hot cider that’s pretty popular. A gingerbread flavored latte.”

“Which ones you likes the best?”

“The cider is nice,” Magnus answered calmly. “Especially on a cold night like this one. It’s not as sweet, though.”

“Sounds good. Gets me a mediums, please.” Toki watched as the man ringed up the price of the drink. He glanced at the dessert display and chewed in inner cheek. “What’s about snacks? Anythinks you likes?”

Magnus shrugged. “Cider goes well with the gingerbread stuff.”

“Ams the bread good?”

“It’s nice, yeah.”

Toki went ahead and ordered both the bread and gingerbread man and, upon Magnus’ suggestion, asked for the bread to be warmed before paying for his additional drink and snacks.

“Can I have a name for this order?” Magnus asked. His expression gave nothing away. Toki couldn’t tell if he was eager to learn his name, or dreading to hear it.

“Toki,” he answered back, and when Magnus joked and asked if Toki was going to share those treats or hoard them for himself for the night, Toki ignored him, just smiled and told him to please keep the change before heading off to the restroom to supply himself some insulin.

He hurried out a few minutes later, head still spinning from the interaction, but found his table as it normally was, empty and bearing the single cup. Toki rushed to it, took his seat and grabbed the warm cup into his anxious hands. He brought it close to him, but refrained from taking a sip, and instead patiently waited for his name to be called so he could pick up his new order. He fished through his pockets, pulled out a pen, and snatched up a nearby napkin from another table and hurriedly began scribbling his number across the slightly stained paper. He drew back, observed it, and frowned.

“Hey.”

Toki carefully folded the napkin and stowed it into his pocket. He looked up at Magnus holding two bags in one hand, the drink in his other.

“Oh, you didn’ts have to carries all of thats for me,” Toki said with a mild gasp.

“It’s no problem, man,” Magnus replied. He offered the morsels to Toki. After a short thanks from Toki, Magnus stepped back, but didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered near the table, eyes resting on the drink he had made some several minutes ago. “You sure you don’t want me to toss that?”

“Nopes, that ams for me to drinks,” Toki answered. He glanced down at his recently purchased meal and, without looking up, added, “this ams for somebody else. Someones specials.”

“Oh?” Magnus broke into a sly chuckle. “Lucky you.”

“Yeah,” Toki said aloud, feeling relieved right when he had said it. He glanced up at Magnus, catching the slight hurt in the older man’s good eye, and after a quick inhale, said with a slight stutter, “it ams for you.”

“What?”

Magnus’ voice was terribly soft. His expression yielded to whatever whims he had held within him for so long, and Toki saw the comment had caught him so off guard that he almost looked like he might run away at any moment. Though equally as nervous, Toki swallowed away any fear he had in him, and grinned at Magnus.

“I saws you makins this drinks for me,” he explained through slightly chattering teeth. God, he was nervous. He was probably just as terrified as Magnus was, but unlike the older man standing before him, hands fumbling and tugging his apron ins desperate please to keep busy an in control, Toki knew exactly what he was going to say now. “Thanks you for getting me drinks after rehearsals.”

Magnus played with his ponytail. “Ah, well…it’s no biggie.”

Blushing, Toki added. “Was hopin’ I could surprise you with a drinks, too?”

That soothed the nerves. Magnus dropped his arm, face darkening as his head sunk with the shaking appendage, but lifted after a quick exhale and exposed the flattery hidden underneath. “I appreciate that…Toki.”

Now cupping his drink, Toki asked. “When does you get offs work?”

“Not till half-past ten,” Magnus confessed with a low, but pleasing voice that Toki was sure he wouldn’t mind hearing more often. He watched Magnus check the clock, frowning. “You, uh, sure–”

“I can waits!” Toki announced with a hearty beam.

He grinned wide, watching and holding in a chuckle when Magnus took another step back, hands pressing against the back of his head as he fought to control the rising excitement building in him. Toki caught a glimpse of some additional tats he overlooked before, noticed the red gemstone glimmering as Magnus brought his hands down, and wondered more about the man who’d taken a liking to him since he had started visiting the store.

“Beens waitinks for a whiles to haves a friendly chats with yous,” Toki said, resting his blushing face into his palms. “What ams few minutes more?”

Magnus smiled back at him. “Sounds like a plan.”

#magtok #hammertooth #magnus hammersmith #toki wartooth #coffee shop #AU #ficlet ask thing #thank you #totally not betaed #or edited #but I'll fix it and publish later

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haileyyanneupton · 4 years ago

Text

❄ small - one chicago au ❄

Hailey Upton and Adam Ruzek have been friends for as long as they can remember. When Hailey changes schools to be with Adam in her junior year, she’s introduced to a new group of people who feel strangely like home.

pairings: jay halstead x hailey upton adam ruzek x kim burgess kevin atwater x vanessa rojas kelly severide x stella kidd

warnings (chapter specific): swearing

masterlist | series masterlist

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

❄ four ❄

A little over a week had passed since Jay and Hailey had gone out for coffee and pancakes to work on their assignment, and each of them had decided that they would keep their poems a secret from each other until they had to present it to the class. Secretly, it was because Hailey hadn’t actually started the poem and had nothing to show him — meanwhile, Jay had already worked through at least half. It wasn’t a bad thing; she just hadn’t been able to find the right way to get it down on paper yet. Her plan was to keep collecting as much as she could about her literature partner; the group milkshake date seeming like a relatively good way to do so.

“Yo Upton, Rojas! Are you two coming, or are you just going to keep dragging your feet like slow pokes?” Stella called out to the two as they trailed a few steps behind her and Kim.

“We’re coming, we’re coming,” Vanessa rolled her eyes as she tutted. “Calm your farm, Kidd.”

Hailey only chuckled as the Stella and Vanessa both fought for the passenger seat of Kim’s car, Hailey not minding the back as she climbed in and waited for someone to accompany her. Eventually it ended up being Stella who called heads on a coin that came up tails, leaving her to take the seat beside the blonde.

The girls had all gone in Kim’s car while the guys went in Adam’s, all driving to the same place not too far from their school. It was a Wednesday afternoon and the upperclassmen had been given the afternoon off, allowing the group to finally go out as Adam had suggested a few weeks previously. Hailey’s mouth was already watering at the prospect of a banana milkshake — it was the only banana flavoured thing in the entire world that she liked. She had been buzzing with happiness all day as she awaited twelve o’clock to come; the second it did, she had almost launched herself out of her seat in pre-calculus.

The drive to the milkshake parlour was short, but nonetheless fun. With Fifth Harmony blaring from the radio (courtesy of Kim), the words to Dope were being shouted by all four girls as they pulled up in the parking lot, finding a space right beside Adam’s car as they all jumped out and raced inside where the boys had saved them all a table.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Kelly teased, earning a roll of the eyes from both Stella and Vanessa. "Took you all long enough. Did the car break down or something?"

"We were enjoying our drive here and listening to music, thank you very much."

"And?"

"And. . . we got stuck behind a railway crossing."

"Knew it," Kelly smirked, a mischievous look in his eye as the girls all headed to the counter to place their orders.

As Kim and Stella debated which flavour they would get, Hailey couldn’t help but notice the way that Vanessa was awkwardly hanging back in an empty space smack bang between the front counter and the table that the boys were sitting at. Everybody else seemed blind to it — but Hailey was perceptive. She could see the way that Vanessa studied her feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world, the way she tried to retreat without anybody noticing. Although Hailey didn’t know why, she wasn’t about to let it go unaddressed.

“Hey.” Hailey’s voice was only loud enough for Vanessa to hear as to took a step towards her. “You not getting a milkshake, V?”

Vanessa frowned ever so slightly, her eyes sad despite the fact that she tried not to let it show. “Nah. I — uh — I don’t really feel like one.”

Hailey knew that wasn’t the reason. There was something else. As she thought back over the day briefly to try and work out what could have upset her friend, it suddenly hit Hailey with as much force as a freight train. She felt almost dumb for not realising it sooner, her heart aching for Vanessa as she glanced back over at the girl.

“You can’t —“

Vanessa silenced the girl with a small nod — one that begged her not to go on about the matter. Vanessa couldn’t afford it.

Before Hailey’s brothers had moved out and gotten jobs, her family had been in a similar situation. Obviously it wasn’t the same — Hailey had never been bounced around foster homes — but regardless, the Upton’s were living paycheck to paycheck. Hand me down clothes were all Hailey knew, whether it be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt from her brother or a Spiderman hoodie from Adam, she was always dressed up in somebody else’s leftovers. She didn’t mind too much about that part, but she could remember the first time that she went to school without lunch. She remembered the first time, the second time, even the third time — after that, it all just blurred together. It all just became the usual for Hailey who at the time, was still in third grade in elementary school. As she grew older, things got even just the slightest bit easier — Adam’s parents would always put an extra sandwich in their son’s lunchbox for Hailey, or they’d send both children with a ten dollar bill to pay for a hot lunch if they wanted. When her brother Nate moved out — he had always been there for his youngest and only sister — things changed for the better, financially. He was making good money as a mechanic. He could afford to pay for Hailey’s tuition at a fancy private school, he could send a hundred dollars or so to Anne to cover the groceries; he even started sending Hailey money so that she could buy herself what she could afford to be a teenager. Was it a lot? No. But did it make the difference? Absolutely.

Glancing down at her wallet, Hailey spied the two twenty dollar bills she had shoved in there that morning before leaving for school, the green paper sitting untouched until she took one into her hand, closing her fingers around it so that nobody else could see it. In one swift movement, her hand dropped down to her side and her fingers became interlaced with Vanessa’s as she sneakily and subtly transferred the money from her hand to the brunette’s, leaving the girl with wide eyes as she snapped her head around to face Hailey.

“I-I. . . You didn’t have to —“

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”

The small smile on Vanessa’s face dropped for a second as she looked Hailey dead in the eye. “I’m not a charity case you know. I just. . .”

Her voice trailed off as Hailey squeezed her friends hand lightly.

“I know that, V. I know. And I’m not treating you like one. I’m lucky enough to have people look out for me and lighten the load when I need it — you deserve that too.”

“But I’m not going to be able to pay you back Hailey — you know that right? I don’t have a job and I can’t —“

“Vanessa, that’s not what this is. I don’t want you to pay me back. I just know what it’s like to feel like you’re missing out because of something so shallow as money, and now that I’m in a position where I can make your day a little better, I’d like to do so. God knows you’ve done plenty for me since I showed up.”

“I gave you an apple slice, dude!”

“It’s more than that,” Hailey chuckled lightly, her lips curling upwards as she saw Vanessa stare down at the twenty dollar bill with sparkling eyes. “Besides — you do not want to miss out on one of these milkshakes. They’re literally to die for. I would run through the fiery pits of hell, being tortured by satan himself to get one of these milkshakes.”

Vanessa shot the girl a lopsided smirk. “I dunno, Hails — walking up to the counter sounds like a lot less effort.”

Hailey only rolled her eyes with a grin as Kim and Stella finally stepped away, allowing the two other girls to order their drinks before returning back to the table where they would be bought out to them. Hailey took her usual seat between Vanessa and Jay (even when they weren’t in the art room, apparently their seating arrangement still stayed the same). As their milkshakes began coming out, Jay smirked in Hailey’s direction as she took her first sip of the banana flavoured beverage.

“What?” Hailey quizzed, arching a brow as she crossed her arms across her chest expectantly. “There a problem?”

“No. Just . . . observing.”

“You’re observing my milkshake drinking habits?”

“I’m observing your reaction to ordering the most basic drink on the menu.”

Hailey scoffed, openly laughing in the boy’s face as she turned to face him. “That’s rich coming from you, Halstead. You’re about as basic as they come.”

Jay only chuckled with a shake of his head as Kelly cleared his throat dramatically, calling for the attention to be bought upon him. Stella groaned from his left, her forehead resting against the table. Hailey let a small smile of amusement cross her lips; Stella wasn’t normally one to be embarrassed by Kelly’s antics. In fact, normally she joined in — but today, it was different.

“I have an announcement,” Kelly proclaimed, tapping the end of his fingernail upon his milkshake — Hailey thought he looked like a dork, but she also knew he gave absolutely no fucks. “You all must listen very, very closely!”

“Alright, alright, man. We’re listening. Out with it already!”

Kelly shot a lighthearted glare over at Adam who wore a grin in response.

“After much deliberation, there has been a mutual confession between the wonderful, amazing, beautiful, talented, badass —“ Kelly paused for a second to dodge Stella’s fist which was heading straight towards his groin. “— incredibly intimidating Stella Kidd and I. We — uh — we’re. . . “

“What this dumbass is trying to say is that we’re together.” Stella interrupted Kelly as she lifted her head up from the table ever so slightly, her chin resting upon her hands as everybody else broke out into a grin. “I told him we should tell you guys today, but I didn’t expect for him to make it into some kind of theatrical fucking performance.”

“You should have known better then that, Stell. It’s Kelly we’re talking about. King of Dramatics.”

“Yeah, I’m realising that now.”

Hailey was happy for the new couple, but she wasn’t as invested as she could see everybody else was. Apparently, Stella and Kelly had been making heart eyes at each other since freshman year, the rest of the group waiting for one of them to make a move on the other. Hailey knew there was something between them but figured that they were probably just close like she and Adam were — she couldn’t even begin to count how many times people had assumed that she and the boy she had grown up with were dating. Nonetheless, it became evident that Kelly and Stella were much more comfortable with their secret coming out; their hands fell into each other’s as they laughed alongside one another.

Sitting and watching, observing if you will, something suddenly became very apparent to the girl. It was one of those things that once she saw it, she couldn’t un-see it — the sight bought a small, fond smile to her lips as she stayed silent, simply watching. Well, she was — until Jay interrupted her thoughts.

“What are you staring at?” Jay asked, a small smirk on his face as Hailey leaned back slightly so that she could speak only just loud enough for the boy to hear.

“Do you see what I see?”

“Uhhh . . . ” Jay furrowed his brows slightly as Hailey let out a chuckle, shaking her head.

Without realising it, Hailey inched her way closer to Jay as she pressed her back against the cushioned booth they were in, her shoulder brushing against Jay’s as she grew even quieter. The freckled boy hadn’t seemed to notice either, despite the fact that they were practically sitting on top of each other at that point.

“Look at them all,” Hailey couldn’t help but let out a small snort as one hand rested against her thigh, the other holding her banana milkshake close to her chest. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier.”

“I still have no clue what we’re talking about here, Hailey. Give me something to go off of.”

“Right, right,” Hailey grinned up at Jay sheepishly. “So there’s Kelly and there’s Stella. Totally head over heels for each other, yeah?”

Jay nodded soundlessly, a puzzled expression still plastered upon his features.

“Then there’s Vanessa and Kevin. Now I don’t think they realise it just yet, but they’re totally going to be a thing.”

The boy’s eyes widened in realisation. “Holy shit.”

“Wait, just — just wait . . . ” Hailey held up a finger. “Now — look at Adam and Kim.”

If it were at all possible, Jay’s eyes grew even more as he too became fixated on the scene in front of them, the evidence now slapping him in the face. His mouth hung open wide as the corners of his lips turned upwards into a smile.

“I smell a bet coming on.”

Hailey grinned widely once again, a mischievous look on her face as her and Jay’s eyes locked. “You’re on, Halstead.”

“Twenty bucks says Burgess and Ruzek will get together by the end of the year.”

“Please,” Hailey scoffed lightly, folding her arms over one another before taking a sip of her milkshake. “Thirty says they’ll be together by the end of the month.”

“Ah, so you’re a risktaker.” Jay’s trademark smirk met Hailey’s gaze. “I’ll make sure to make a note of that for my poem.”

“Not a risktaker, per say — I just know Adam is an impatient, idiotic dumbass who can’t help himself.”

The mention of Adam’s name caused the boy in question to snap his head over to the blonde, a scowl etched into his features as he shot a playful glare over at the girl, Hailey not backing down from her words even the slightest bit. Before she knew it, everybody was back to their own conversations with people jumping in and out where they wanted to, leaving Hailey to do what she did best — observe. It wasn’t like there was something she was looking for or trying to understand; Hailey had just always been the kind of person who would sit and listen rather than interject herself into the conversation. She found that she learned a lot more that way — people would often tell you their darkest secrets if you let them do the talking.

She would never admit it, but somehow, her eyes kept finding their way to Jay as if his face was a magnet and they were calling her. She studied every part of him closely, taking note of how the corners of his eyes creased when he laughed, counting the freckles that looked as though they had been methodically scattered across his skin in the most perfect way. Hailey noticed his little quirks and even jotted a few of them down in the notes app of her phone, like how he tilted his head slightly when he didn’t understand something or was asking a question or the way he would run his tongue his bottom lip when he was thinking of something. Every little thing that made him unique soon compiled into an extensive list that Hailey had saved to her notes, ready to use when she eventually found the right way to complete her own literature assignment.

It wasn’t long before everybody packed back into the two cars, this time the order being switched up and mixed around. Hailey had gone in Adam’s car, because, well — duh — meanwhile, Vanessa switched places with Kelly and Kevin who lived closer to Kim and Stella anyway. While Jay and Adam talked each other’s ears off, Hailey was sat in the back seat with Vanessa who looked absolutely wrecked from their day.

“You look exhausted, you poor thing,” Hailey smiled halfheartedly over at the girl.

“Yeah, I am.” Vanessa yawned tiredly. “I was up half the night studying for that precalc test we have.”

“You’re like, the smartest one in the entire class, dude,” Hailey said, looking at her friend with an incredulous look. “You don’t even need to study!"

“Still doesn’t hurt to make sure I know what I need to know. And to make sure I know that I know what I know so that I can make sure you know what I know.”

“I think I just had an aneurysm trying to understand that.”

Vanessa grinned. “You’re welcome.”

The two girls shared a laugh as Vanessa leaned her up against the headrest behind her. Turning to Hailey slowly, the girl wore a small and gratuitous smile as her hand fell into the blonde haired girl’s hand, earning back her attention with the small yet simple gesture. Vanessa was a very physical person — she loved hugs, she loved holding hands with her friends to show them her love and appreciation — Hailey, however new to the group she was, was no exception.

“Hailey. . . I hope you know how much what you did today meant to me.” Vanessa began, her accent coating her words as her eyes fell to her lap. “I got moved to another foster home on Monday and. . . I know it sounds stupid, but asking for money before the first cheque from the state comes in is a big no no if I want to stay somewhere for longer than half a week."

Vanessa’s voice was low and quiet, only loud enough for the blonde sitting beside her to hear as Hailey’s heart squeezed tightly. She hadn’t missed the giant smile on Vanessa’s face as she was handed her Oreo milkshake, or the way her her mood had completely brightened in giddy, goofy happiness as she bounced around and made fun of Kevin. Hailey, despite her tough exterior, would secretly do anything to make the people she cared about smile. Absolutely anything. Without ever second guessing herself.

“I didn’t want you to be left out.” Hailey’s response was at a matching volume. “Feeling like the outsider all of the time. . . It’s not fun. I get that. That’s why I’m so endlessly grateful to have made such good friends here.”

“You? The outsider? That’s hard to imagine.”

“Three words, V. Three words.”

“Hm?”

“Private girls school.”

“. . . Yeah, say no more."

Everything that Hailey had said was the truth. She knew what it was like to be the outsider, she knew what it was like to feel like the ground beneath you was always shaking and about to give out on you no matter what you did. No amount of duct tape would hold it together, and given the fact that Vanessa had just had to uproot her life — again — Hailey could sympathise with what she was going through despite the fact that she would thankfully never understand it fully.

Hailey sighed lightly as she gave Vanessa’s hand a small squeeze. “I wish you could live with me.”

“Can I?”

Though Vanessa was clearly joking, as seen by the smile playing at her lips and her humorous tone, Hailey really did wish she could bring Vanessa to live with her — perhaps just not at her house. With her father. And her mother, who was always excusing the former’s behaviour. Always.

“I’m not sure you’d like it very much at my house.” The blue eyed girl let out an exhale as she spoke. “There’s a reason I spend so much time at Adam’s house.”

“I get it.” Vanessa’s eyes held sympathy towards Hailey. “But hey. . . we’ve got each other, right? We’ve got these two doofuses in the front seat, we’ve got Stella and Kim and Kelly and Kev. And one day we can all run away together and forge a home in the woods using our very minimal survival skills that would definitely not suffice to stop us getting eaten by a bear or something.”

At the sound of Vanessa addressing him and Jay, Adam turned around from the driver’s seat as he pulled up at a stoplight before directing his words to the girls in the back seat.

“Hey! I was a Cub Scout when I was younger, you know! ” He said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly in pride. "We’d be just fine in the woods."

“Adam, shut the hell up,” Hailey laughed as she looked at him incredulously, rolling her eyes at the boy. “You did Cub Scouts for two months and then you quit when you couldn’t get a single badge because they required you actually putting work into them. All you wanted to do was sit there with a juice box and a cookie.”

“Says the one who got kicked out of Girl Scouts for threatening to set a girl’s hair on fire!”

“She deserved it.”

“She was traumatised!”

“Good. I don’t like her. She tried to steal my backpack."

“It was ten years ago, Hailey.”

“It was my favourite backpack!"

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

aaaaaa! I apologise if this isn’t great I really struggled trying to write this one I don’t even know why 😂

thank you so much to @ruzek-halstead for proofreading! after writing this for so long I definitely lost the ability to do so, so marcia — you’re a literal lifesaver 🥰

tag list: @ruzek-halstead @lissethsrojas @sammywiths @butterflies44 @upsteadheart @shawnscheeks @puckluck28 @karihighman @thetwit @azu1ang3188 @juu-series @justanotheronechicagofan @stinaax @stayupton @fullwattpadmusictree @anna-justice

ps: if anybody ever wants to be added to the tag list, just let me know! it’s so easily done!

#chicago pd #one chicago #chicago pd au #alternate universe #hailey upton #jay halstead #kelly severide #adam ruzek #vanessa rojas #stella kidd #kevin atwater #kim burgess #au #cpd

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itshardcandy · 4 years ago

Text

Hot ‘n Cold

Kim Namjoon x Reader

(Written for a writing game by @letsgetitinbusan)

6059 Words

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Smut

Warnings: Consumption of Alcohol, Swearing, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before you tap it, kids), Outdoor Sex, Vaginal Fingering

Summary: A camping trip takes an unexpected turn

Preview:

“You feel much warmer already.”

“Mhh, you are helping a lot with that.”

“I think I noticed. Good to know I can be of assistance. It’s getting quite hot in here, don’t you think?”

Bliss. Overwhelming and all-consuming bliss clouded your mind when you walked out the door of the lecture hall you just took your last exam of the semester in. Making your way through the crowd of students towards the nearest exit you hurried out of the building knowing you wouldn’t have to set foot in that hellhole that dares to call itself a university for the next beautiful, fun-packed, exciting 8 weeks of summer break. On the way back to the dorm, fully immersed in your phone, you suddenly felt a large hand gripping your shoulder. Hurling around, the grinning face of Namjoon, your friend and next-door dorm mate, appeared in your view.

“Guess who got himself full marks on their last project of the year?”

Namjoon exclaimed practically beaming with elation and pride.

“Hmm let me think… Must have been that dude you hung out with last week, right?”

You said teasingly, pretending to think hard to guess the answer to this, truly very difficult, question considering the genius mind of your friend.

“No, silly, it’s me of course.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and continued.

“Anyway, how was your exam? Any more luck this time?”

“Ugh, I wish. It was a disaster, my brain feels like it’s been sucked out of my head. I’d be surprised if I actually passed though knowing my prof, I highly doubt it. That man just can’t teach a class for the life of him. It’s an outrage he has the audacity to have us take an exam on that waste of a time his lecture was if you ask me.”

You rambled on frustrated but continued jokingly.

“I might have to borrow that big juicy brain of yours next time so I have an actual chance to succeed.”

“Ready to get wasted at the camp tonight then, I assume?”

“Hell fucking yeah I am.”

Laughing, you both continued down the paved road leading to the big grey building that was your dorm. Dragging yourself up the numerous sets of stairs you asked yourself for the thousandth time why exactly you’d thought picking a room on the 5th floor of a building that has no elevator was a good idea. Well, at least you had the best crackheads you could wish for as neighbours so that was something, you thought to yourself. Over the years you had lived on that floor, you and the others had bonded over your shared struggles of living in that falling-apart building and the uncountable tragedies that unfolded within those walls, including that one hot summer in which the rusty, ancient water pipe burst and thus none of the inhabitants had running water for two weeks straight. Out of that emergency situation a new tradition was born with all of you packing your essentials and riding your bikes down to the shore and going camping every summer during semester break.

“Bet Jungkook hasn’t even started packing?”

Namjoon said and knowing his room mate, you agreed.

“Better help him then, we should leave as soon as possible so we can secure our spot at the campsite. I don’t trust people these days, that spot is getting popular and I’m not taking any chances.”

With a last wave at him you unlocked your door and disappeared into your apartment. Ever since your former room mate and parter in crime had moved out earlier that month you had the flat to yourself and you still weren’t accustomed to having that much space for your stuff. Sadly, your flatmate had moved across the country meaning she couldn’t take part in the camping trip this year.

Scanning your possessions, you skilfully grabbed various items and articles of clothing you’d be needing for the next few days and threw them on the bed. After ticking everything off of your imaginary list, you began packing the pile of things into your backpack.

Not much later and after checking your groupchat to make sure that everybody was ready to go, you left your room and walked down the corridor meaning to knock on the door on the right. It immediately opened and Yoongi appeared in the frame, manoeuvring his belongings into the hallway.

“Good to go?”

You asked to which Yoongi hummed in agreement. You descended down the staircase together carrying your equipment.

“Is Jimin downstairs already?”

You wondered, since Yoongi’s room mate was nowhere in sight.

“Nah, he still got that dance performance with Hoseok this afternoon. They will join us later this evening.”

“Right, right, forgot about that.”

In front of the building Namjoon, Jungkook and Taehyung were already loading their luggage onto their bikes. When everybody was done you set off on your journey revelling in the beautiful feeling of freedom awaiting you at the camping site. After a good hour you turned into the path leading towards the clearing at the beginning of the small forest by the shore. Upon arrival Jungkook immediately spotted the car that was parked right beside the track.

“How does he manage to be here first every time? I swear he does that on purpose just to rear me up.”

Jungkook whined at the sight of his brother.

Pausing the unpacking of his luggage from the trunk of his car, Seokjin greeted you all with a wave and a big smile.

“Great! You made it just in time to help me unload the tents.”

“Speaking of, we need to agree on sleeping arrangements since a certain someone managed to rip theirs last year.”

Yoongi said and all eyes lingered on Namjoon who looked at the ground in shame.

“Let’s see… We got four tents. That means Taehyung and Jimin in their tent and Yoongi and Hoseok will share one, I guess? Then me in my tent and Y/N in hers. Which means Namjoon and Jungkook will have to seek shelter in one each. Any preferences?”

Jin spoke and looked at the two tent-less members of the group.

“I don’t mind sharing the tent with Y/N. Uhh... I mean if she doesn’t mind of course.”

Namjoon said quickly and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Fine by me. As long as it’ll still be in one piece by the end of this trip.”

“Great, that’s settled then. Little brother, the honour of sharing a tent with this handsome guy is all yours.”

Jin said exaggeratedly gesturing at his face which Jungkook could only answer with a grimace, seeming a lot less excited about said fact than his brother was.

You busied yourselves to take the tents out of the trunk of the car and searched for the perfect spot to put them up. You walked across the clearing examining the ground thoroughly with Namjoon following behind with your tent under his arm.

“What about here? We’d get some shade from that big oak tree right there and it looks like the ground is as even as it can get.”

You asked and Namjoon agreed.

“Perfect. You really have a good eye for that. Remember the first time we went camping and you and your room mate placed the tent directly above a molehill?”

Namjoon laughed and you snorted at the memory.

“Please don’t remind me, I got the shock of a lifetime when suddenly something tried to make its way in from underneath the tent. Never screamed so loud in my life.”

“I remember you woke us all up thinking you were getting stabbed or something. Scared the shit out of me.”

Namjoon said and started setting the tent up. Since he was very skilled in putting the pieces together, you didn’t have to do much besides holding the poles up for Namjoon to drape the fabric around. After a few minutes the mission was accomplished and you looked pleased at the joint achievement.

“I’m really glad you picked me to share a tent with. Without you I would have been struggling a lot more to get it set up.”

“Well thanks for trusting me enough to let me into your holy cave.”

At that remark you stopped dead in your tracks and burst out laughing then turned to Namjoon with an incredulous look. Namjoon who seemed to have realised just now how much of an innuendo his comment had been covered his eyes with his right hand shaking his head in disbelief.

When the others were done setting up their tents, Taehyung and Jungkook began collecting some wood and stacked it into the fireplace that had been built in the middle of the clearing. The rest of your group took seats on the logs that were placed around the firepit and unpacked the food that you had brought. Jin and Namjoon took it upon themselves to act as masters of the meat and impaled sausages with some thin sticks to roast them over the fire. By the time the first batch was done, Hoseok and Jimin finally arrived and were greeted with shouts. They joined the jolly round busying themselves to some well-deserved dinner.

After you had devoured the sausages Hoseok whipped out a box containing some crackers, a bar of chocolate and a bag of marshmallows out of his backpack.

“Nothing better than some S’Mores when camping, am I right?”

Hoseok asked and handed the box around letting everybody grab some for themselves.

Jin nudged Taehyung in the shoulder who sat on his left and asked him to accompany him to his car. When they made their way back to the rest of the group, they were carrying bottles upon bottles of Soju.

“At the last wedding we catered for, those people ordered way too much alcohol and they refused to keep the leftover bottles so naturally I found a convenient solution to that problem and persuaded my boss to leave the good stuff to me. Not even he can resist my charms I assume.”

Jin told you and overall cheers complimented him.

“Awesome Jin, you working at a restaurant really has its perks.”

You said approvingly and happily accepted the bottle of peach flavoured Soju Taehyung handed you over.

While the supply of Soju slowly shrunk and the pile of empty bottles grew, your mood became more light-hearted over time and you all reminisced in the memories you had made over the years. Slowly but steady the sun set and it got darker. When the glowing red ball of light had finally disappeared completely behind the horizon Jimin and Hoseok declared that they were tired and proceeded to get ready for bed.

“That dance performance really makes itself felt now. Maybe I have to admit that I’m getting older.”

“Don’t worry Hobi, it took a toll on me as well. But at least we know we gave it our all.”

Jimin said and stifled a yawn. The two headed to the cabin at the edge of the clearing that contained a rather humble bathroom but at least it offered a tank of fresh water so that was something.

Gradually one after the other decided to go hit the hay and bid the remaining few people goodnight. When only Namjoon, Jungkook and yourself were left sitting around the fire, the three of you decided to play a drinking game resulting in Jungkook getting so drunk that he had to throw up. Namjoon hurried towards the bathroom in the cabin to get some water while you comforted Jungkook. You grabbed a napkin and wet it with the fresh water Namjoon had brought back and began cleaning around Jungkook’s mouth wiping the nasty residue from his face. Unfortunately, a lot had already dribbled down onto his shirt.

“I think you should get that thing off. We can wash it tomorrow but for now just change into a fresh shirt.”

You said to Jungkook and helped him out of the soiled piece of clothing. Jungkook who couldn’t control the movements of his limbs properly, let his right arm snap back after retreating from the sleeve of his shirt resulting in hitting the container of water Namjoon was still holding. A splash and Namjoon had gotten the majority of water over his chest. Cursing he let the now empty container fall to the ground. Namjoon tried to wipe some of the water off his body but it was useless, he was drenched. You laughed at the sight. It reminded you of a puppy who had just received an unwanted shower.

“We should get you to your tent so you can rest. Do you feel a bit better now?”

You asked Jungkook and he nodded. Namjoon helped you escort Jungkook to the tent he was sharing with Jin and made sure he got in alright, closing the entrance behind him.

Back at the fireplace, Namjoon stood by the flames as near as possible trying to get them to dry his shirt but the fire had already died down significantly so it didn’t really work. Resigning, he lifted the wet fabric above his head and threw it next to himself on the log. You couldn’t help but give him a sneaky glance. You had always thought of Namjoon as really handsome but something about him revealing his wet chest so shamelessly to you hit different.

“Do you wanna stay up or go to sleep as well?”

Namjoon asked and caught you off-guard in the act of looking him up and down, your eyes lingering on his chest a little longer than necessary. Flustered you directed your eyes away and shook your head.

“No, I wanna stay up, I want to enjoy this as much as possible.”

“You talking about my body or the night in general?”

Namjoon joked and you secretly asked yourself the same question. You proceeded to grab one of the last bottles of Soju and took a sip so you had an excuse not to answer.

“Want one as well?”

You asked and seeing him nodding, you handed him one of the bottles. After the first gulp he scrunched his nose looking appalled. Checking the label, he felt his worst suspicions confirmed.

“You gave me one of the flavour-less ones! What do you take me for – an animal? What have I done to you to deserve such torture?”

You laughed feeling not as sorry as you maybe should have as Namjoon looked really funny being so disgusted by his beverage.

“Sorry, I couldn’t see well and just picked the one nearest. Want a different one?”

You took a close look at the three remaining Soju bottles and gave Namjoon an apologetic smile.

“I’m afraid they are all plain as well. Seems like I got lucky and picked the last grape flavoured one.”

“So that’s what I get for trusting you. I feel betrayed.”

“Um do you wanna share mine? I don’t mind, I’ve had enough alcohol anyway.”

You offered your bottle to Namjoon and he didn’t hesitate to take it, chucking his own bottle away. How could he turn down such an offer when it appeared so temptingly? Taking turns emptying the drink, you sat in comfortable silence just listening to the occasional sound of the woodland creatures nearby and gazing up at the night sky. Here in the middle of the forest without all the street lights and neon signs lighting up the night, the stars were clearly visible and shone bright and clear. You loved the night sky, so naturally you were gazing upwards totally lost in the twinkling lights of the millions of stars.

You didn’t notice the lingering eyes of Namjoon who was admiring how the moonlight illuminated your silhouette. When exactly he had caught feelings for you, he wasn’t quite sure. All he knew was that it somehow happened and when he finally came to terms with that, he was already crushing hard and even though there had been the occasional teasing and ambiguous situation he still didn’t think there was more to it than just that. You had been friends for ages so anything beyond that was surely out of the question, right? Therefore, he hadn’t given it much thought but the way you had looked at him when he took off his shirt didn’t go unnoticed and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if there was a possibility that he wasn’t the only one who had developed a crush over the years.

“Do you ever wonder why we are here on this earth?”

Namjoon was pulled out of his thoughts by the sudden question. You looked at him and continued your philosophical train of thought.

“I mean look, there are so many stars and planets up there. Why out of all places do we exist on this one? And think about it… The moon and the stars are so far away but we still see them. They are so huge we can actually see them from here. Isn’t that amazing?”

Before Namjoon could answer you rambled on.

“And we are so small. We are so small, Joon, why are we so small? So insignificant? The stars shine so bright even after they had died but we are just dead, just rotting. Why do I even bother accomplishing anything when in the end it means nothing and everyone will forget that I even existed?”

You finished and stared at Namjoon. The sight of you looking so desperate and sad devastated him.

“Y/N… That’s not true and you know it. You are so loved by your family and your friends. You could never be insignificant and of course the people around you will remember you. Please stop thinking so lowly of yourself, I can assure you, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Th-thank you… I suppose I had to much Soju, I’m sorry you had to witness me spiralling into another existential crisis.”

“Don’t be sorry, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah… friends.”

You mumbled and looked up at Namjoon. Your eyes met, holding the gaze for a bit longer than expected before Namjoon cleared his throat.

“So, do you wanna go to bed? It’s getting quite late.”

“Hmhm yeah it’s getting colder, as well, now that the fire went out.”

You shivered suddenly at the cold air of the night, missing the warmth the fire had provided. Namjoon stood up and checked the fireplace to make sure it was really gone out so you wouldn’t accidentally set the whole forest on fire while you slept. You collected the remaining bottles that were scattered around the firepit and added them to the already remarkably high pile of bottles you had all emptied together. Finding the way to your tent turned out to be a lot more difficult, now that it was almost pitch black. You stumbled over a root that was sticking out of the ground and could only save yourself from falling by gripping onto Namjoon’s wrist tightly. He swayed back at the sudden weight pulling on his arm but managed to steady himself in time.

“Are you alright?”

Namjoon asked concerned and turned around. You were still holding onto his wrist but had found your balance again. When you let go of his arm Namjoon held his hand out to you.

“Wouldn’t want for you to trip again. Really, why don’t you wear your glasses more often? Couldn’t read the label on the Soju bottle, couldn’t see that big root. Honestly I’m surprised you managed to survive without getting into any serious accidents yet.”

“Come on it’s not that bad. And I hate my glasses, I look stupid wearing them.”

You scoffed. You hated your glasses with a burning passion but were too lazy to go get new ones that you would actually consider wearing.

“You don’t, you look cute with them and not stupid, at all, but if you prefer to stumble through life like a mole squinting at everything then suit yourself, I guess.”

“Thanks, I will. Besides, I wouldn’t want to miss out on the chance of being escorted to my humble sleeping accommodation by my chivalrous saviour now, would I?”

You said cheerfully and took Namjoon’s hand. You continued the short walk towards your tent. When you’d reached it, you opened the zipper and crawled inside and Namjoon followed you straight. Leaving your shoes in front of the entrance you slipped out of your pants. You made yourself comfortable in your sleeping bag while Namjoon rid himself off his jeans and tucked himself into his sleeping bag as well.

“Joon, can you hand me the water bottle? I feel like a raisin, all that Soju dried me out beyond measure.”

Namjoon felt his way through the items popped into one corner until he found the requested bottle.

You took it and quenched your thirst, downing almost half of the bottle in one go.

“Hey, leave me some okay? You’re not the only one who’s thirsty.”

You reluctantly stopped gulping down the water and held the bottle out in the direction of Namjoon. Since it was almost completely dark inside the tent, Namjoon had problems to make out the bottle causing him to hit it with the back of his hand. With a shriek from you the bottle flew out of your hand and landed on your legs, letting the water flow all over your sleeping bag.

“Y/N I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Did you get wet, is it bad?”

Namjoon apologized and pat his hand over your sleeping bag to see how badly he had fucked up but all you could do was laugh, being already so used to his clumsiness.

“It’s okay, really. But I won’t be able to sleep in that thing, it’s soaked and it’s getting cold tonight.”

“No worries, you can sleep in mine. It’s my fault that yours is wet, after all, so that’s only fair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll be freezing.”

“I won’t, I can stand the cold better than you, so just take mine and go to sleep.”

In the end you didn’t want to argue and the thought of sleeping without a cover wasn’t that enticing either, so you just got out of your wet bag and threw it out of the tent. When you wiggled into Namjoon’s sleeping bag which was a lot more spacious than yours and conveniently was already preheated by Namjoon. You felt the overpowering fatigue that set in and quickly slipped into unconsciousness.

After a while, you woke up at the sound of teeth chattering. You turned around only to see Namjoon laying curled up into a ball and shivering.

“S-sorry, did I wake you up?”

“What the fuck do you think you are doing? Do you want to freeze to death?”

“It’s f-fine, don’t worry. Just get back to sleep.”

“Fine my ass. Do I look stupid to you? Come here, your sleeping bag is a lot bigger than mine. We might have to squeeze a bit but I think we can both fit.”

You opened the zipper and shuffled towards Namjoon. When he had squeezed himself in, he tried to close the sleeping bag but it was no use.

“Doesn’t matter, just leave it open. It’s better than nothing isn’t it?”

You said and Namjoon turned around only now realizing just how close you were.

“God, how are you not frozen solid yet, you are ice-cold!”

“Not everyone can be as hot as you.”

You let out a small chuckle and pressed yourself closer to Namjoon’s body, making yourself comfortable as the little spoon.

“Then I’ll try to make you hot, as well, lying beside a fucking block of ice truly is no fun.”

Namjoon thought you had no idea how right you had been about making him hot. While the two of you had occasionally cuddled during movie nights at the dorm, nothing came close to just how close you were now with nothing between you, except for your underwear and your shirt. With you next to him and the added warmth of the sleeping bag around, Namjoon started to defrost and soon he was engulfed in the warm feeling, ready to fall asleep but he was too aware of your body pressed into him. It really wasn’t necessary for you to push your ass that far into his groin, he thought. It was almost as if you were doing that on purpose just to drive him crazy. But maybe he was misinterpreting everything and he would make a fool out of himself.

As if on cue Namjoon felt you move your body just a bit, letting yourself grind into him slightly. Throwing all caution over board he put his arm around your waist pulling you even closer and letting his hand rest on your stomach. You let out a satisfied sigh and proceeded to move yourself against him. The friction had its effects on Namjoon who noticed himself hardening, very aware that you must feel it too since his boxers barely concealed anything. You however, were finally content that your actions bore fruit. You had been sure of the potential that lay in yourself and Namjoon to be more than just friends and you were determined to find out if you were right about that during this camping trip. Sharing a tent was the best opportunity you could have wished for and considering the very noticeable bulge you felt being pressed into your back from behind you had been right with your assumptions.

“You feel much warmer already.”

“Mhh, you are helping a lot with that.”

“I think I noticed. Good to know I can be of assistance. It’s getting quite hot in here, don’t you think?”

You said and took off your shirt to throw it to your feet. You then turned over now facing Namjoon. He was taken aback by this sudden change and could feel your breath on his bare chest. You placed your hand onto his stomach and slowly progressed to explore his toned body.

“How exactly do you think this is helping us to cool down?”

Namjoon asked, sucking in his breath when you let your fingernails graze the side of his upper body.

“When did I say I wanted to cool down?”

You asked quietly, tilting your head up so you could meet his gaze. This was enough to convince Namjoon that he was allowed to act upon his feelings. He let his hand rest at the back of your head and leaned forward until your lips finally collided. He pulled you closer to himself and you wrapped your arms around his torso. The kiss became more heated and Namjoon let his tongue poke through his lips so you parted yours to let it in. When you had to let go of each other to be able to breathe again Namjoon stared at you, having to process for a moment if this was actually happening. With a huge grin you threw yourself onto him again to continue the kiss. Namjoon’s hands wandered up and down your back brushing against the straps of your bra. You felt his finger hesitate on the hooks of your bra.

“Go on – open it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, do you need a written declaration of consent?”

You giggled at how considerate he was being.

“Just wanted to make sure so you won’t hold it against me later.”

He smirked and with one move of his fingers he had opened the bra and pulled it away from underneath your body. Within seconds you found yourself turned over so you were laying on your back with Namjoon on top of you. With one hand he propped himself up to not crush you completely while his other hand immediately found its way to your breasts. Namjoon kissed you once more before he let his mouth trail down your chin and neck leaving hot kisses on your skin. You had closed your eyes revelling in the addictive feeling when you felt a sudden burst of pain shooting up from your breasts causing you to let out a surprised moan. Namjoon had pinched your right nipple with the hand he was using to massage your boobs. You opened your eyes in shock and found Namjoon smiling mischievously up at you. He had been keeping his eyes on you to observe how you reacted to his actions and was visibly enjoying himself. Letting his hand travel down to your stomach resulted in his face being conveniently positioned exactly over your breasts so he didn’t hesitate and began to caress them with his lips. Namjoon sucking on your tits while simultaneously exploring your still covered pubic area with his free hand had you aroused in no time and you could already feel your panties getting soaked from the movements of his hand, which Namjoon also didn’t fail to notice.

“Seems like you can get me wet in more than one way.”

You said referring to the accident earlier and Namjoon couldn’t refrain from laughing causing his body to vibrate which let his fingers move against your crotch in a delightful manner.

“Well, I know which way I prefer.”

Namjoon said when you let out another moan. He hooked his finger into your panties and pulled them down, so you lay before him completely undressed. His hands caressed your thighs for a bit until he put light pressure onto them to spread them open for him to kneel in-between. You suddenly felt the imbalance in your levels of being undressed, so you sat up catching Namjoon’s lips in a needy kiss while letting your hands palm his hardened length through his boxers for a moment before pushing the unnecessary piece of clothing down his legs so both of you were equally nude. Namjoon pushed you back to lay down again and you obliged. He let his one hand return to your breasts while the fingers of his other hand slid through your slick folds.

You didn’t want him to feel neglected and reached down so you could wrap one of your hands around Namjoon’s dick. Though your grip was only light, Namjoon let out a groan of pleasure at the sudden sensation. Encouraged by his response you slid your hand up and down his shaft and let your thumb graze over his tip every other time using the leaking drops of pre-cum to lube his length up. Namjoon stopped moving his fingers through your folds only to enter you with one finger a moment later. You let out a quiet mewl at the unexpected sensation. You kept your gaze on him, mesmerized at how Namjoon had closed his eyes and thrown his head back in pleasure when you had sped up your movements on his dick.

“God, Y/N, that feels so fucking good.”

Namjoon said letting out a sharp breath when you grazed his tip another time. Keeping up the pace Namjoon had set pushing in and out of your wetness he soon added a second finger. You whined at the delicious feeling and started speeding up jerking off Namjoon. When you felt the movements of his fingers getting unsteady you stopped only for Namjoon to shoot you a questioning look.

“Don’t give me that face. I don’t want you to finish now when the real fun hasn’t even started yet.”

You said and raised one of your eyebrows teasingly.

“But I don’t have any condoms with me. Do you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m on birth control, don’t you remember?”

“So, you are sure you want this?”

“Jesus, Namjoon, just fuck me already.”

You laughed, a little desperate by now.

Namjoon let out a low growl, your words being music in his ears. He moved his body back up to lay down next to you and involved you in another steaming kiss. Namjoon grabbed you by your waist and helped you get up. Straddling him, you sat on top of him and bowed down to kiss him again. He lifted your hips just a bit so he could position himself properly. With a last look into your eyes he lowered you down letting himself enter you slowly. You gasped at the wonderful sensation.

When Namjoon had pushed his length completely into you he held still for a moment to let you get accustomed to his size before he started moving your hips back and forth. When you began moving your hips yourself, with your hands placed on his chest for support, Namjoon moved his hands from your hips to your chest. Setting a steady pace, you began riding Namjoon, totally lost in the pleasure and Namjoon thought he had never seen you look more beautiful. He continued to massage your breasts and pinch your nipples occasionally which caused you to feel the familiar knot form in your stomach.

“Fuck, Joon, I’m close.”

You gasped out between moans and dug your nails into his chest. Namjoon felt himself near his orgasm as well but he was determined to finish second. He held onto your hips again and lifted you just a bit so he could thrust his hips into you from below giving you the chance to let yourself go completely.

“Don’t hold back, baby. I want you to come all over my dick.”

These words combined with Namjoon thrusting into you was enough to send you over the edge. Letting the waves of hot pleasure roll over you, you came undone moaning Namjoon’s name. Seeing your face of pure ecstasy and hearing his name come out of your mouth did it for Namjoon and he let his orgasm overwhelm him.

Panting, you both came down from your orgasms. You let Namjoon’s dick slide out of you so you could lay down again besides him. Smiling at each other like complete idiots you tried to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe it took so long for this to happen.”

“Well. I didn’t think it would happen at all. I thought you’d never see me as more than a friend.”

Namjoon responded and you looked at him in disbelief.

“Are you serious?? Kim Namjoon, you might be a genius on paper but when it comes to flirting you suddenly lose all ability to think.”

You laughed and Namjoon joined you.

You noticed the tiredness starting to set in again so you cuddled up to Namjoon and closed your eyes. You felt Namjoon place a kiss on your forehead then drifted away with Namjoon falling asleep soon after.

In the morning, you woke up from the blinding sunlight flooding the tent and heating it up even further. With your eyes still closed, you went over the events of the previous night smiling to yourself. When you opened them, you stared into the brown eyes of Namjoon.

“Morning sleepyhead.”

Namjoon said and scrunched up his nose when you poked him in the stomach.

“You know it’s creepy to watch people sleep?”

“I’m sure you can make an exception?”

“Hmm, kiss me and I might think about it.”

You grinned and Namjoon happily did as told. Since the morning sun made it almost unbearable to stay inside the tent any longer, the two of you got dressed and you tied your dishevelled hair up into what you hoped would look like an intentionally messy bun. When you crawled out of the tent you saw Hobi, Jin and Yoongi already sitting around the fireplace having some sandwiches for breakfast. Upon joining the others, Namjoon and you were greeted with knowing looks.

“Ah, finally, the two night owls grace us with their presence.”

Hobi said jokingly.

“Did you sleep well?”

Yoongi asked with a cheeky smile while raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, we somehow all woke up because of some suspicious noises in the middle of the night. You don’t think you know where they came from, by any chance?”

Jin continued amused.

Namjoon tried not to make eye contact with them and instead preceded to scratch himself at the back of his head.

“Ah come on, now you’re being shy? Last night you didn’t bother if someone could hear us.”

You said and slightly bumped Namjoon in the side with your elbow, earning laughter from the other boys.

“It’s still embarrassing...”

Namjoon mumbled but relaxed himself and grabbed one of the sandwiches Jin had held in his direction handing you the other one.

When Namjoon placed a quick kiss on your cheek before taking a bite off his sandwich you thought that this year’s camping trip was definitely going to be your favourite so far and the fun had just started.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x y/n #kim namjoon x you #bts Namjoon #hardcandywriting #kim namjoon

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bubbyleh · 4 years ago

Text

wolves

All things considered, Tommy was incredibly lucky that his dad found him when he did. Just a few months before his first transformation, which Tommy knows he wouldn’t have been able to control as well as he does now. Sure, full moons are the only set in stone time he transforms, but Tommy’s sure that, if left in that orphanage, something would have set him off sooner or later. And he doesn’t want to think about what would have happened after.

At five years old, Tommy acquired his first pack member. It had been impromptu, and spontaneous, but Gman knew another wolf when he saw one. He couldn’t just leave a kindred spirit at the mercy of humans, especially a child.

Tommy was so excited to finally have a home, but a little nervous in the days leading up to his first shift. It was good for him to have an older wolf there to help with adjusting. As he grew up, Gman taught him more about being a wolf, such as partial transformation or shifting outside of a full moon.

But Tommy remembers one lesson clearly. On a cold night, while stoking the flames of their fireplace, Gman explained the importance of packs to his son.

“They’re people who, look out for, you,” Gman says as he settles back down on the couch next to Tommy. “Your pack will… protect you. Keep you safe, and in turn. You will help them.”

Tommy pulls the blanket on his shoulders tighter. “So they’re- they’re like a family?” Gman nods. “Then… you’re my pack?”

The question seems to catch Gman off-guard, but his shock quickly makes way for a warm smile as he pulls Tommy close. “Yes. And you are mine.”

Nestling into his father’s side, Tommy can’t help but grin. Something in the back of his mind tells him that since two people is small for a family, it should be small for a pack, too. But honestly, the idea of it, being part of a group of people who will love you, no matter what, is something Tommy enjoys.

†††

Tommy is thirty-five when his boyfriend mentions a crypt. The two of them are lounging around Darnold’s room in his apartment, Darnold sitting on the bed with his laptop while Tommy sits on the floor.

“You grew up in- in a crypt?” Tommy tilts his head. Given the fact he has his wolf ears shifted right now, he looks quite a bit like a puppy.

“Well, yeah.” Darnold shrugs. “They’re convenient for inhuman folk who live in more populated areas.”

“What was that like?”

“Tommy, my mom showed you my baby pictures,” Darnold explains. “The cryptmates were all over those.”

Tommy blinks. Thinking back on it, actually, he does remember seeing unfamiliar faces holding baby Darnold in a few of those pictures. He was pretty distracted laughing at his boyfriend’s embarrassment, but really, he should maybe have questioned the literal skeleton playing peekaboo with an infant.

“I just assumed they were her- her clients!”

With a snort, Darnold pats Tommy’s head to calm him down. Tommy would never admit it, but since he’s a bit wolfed out, it does actually work.

“But, well. To answer your question,” Darnold scratches his chin as he speaks. “It was kind of like being part of a big family. There was always someone who had time to play with me, you know?” He smiles, mostly to himself. “I was never alone.”

Tommy can hear his tail thumping against the floor. “That sounds real- real nice!”

“Maybe we’ll move into one, one day,” Darnold laughs, before his eyes suddenly go bright. “Or we can make one! I know of a few of my clients who’d probably love to live in a crypt.”

Tommy doesn’t even think before agreeing with Darnold. He’s not sure why, but the concept of living in such close proximity to other people seems almost perfect. Some rational part of his brain tells him that it’s actually a terrible idea, considering he has his own apartment. But whenever he tries to come up with an argument against it, he realizes he doesn’t care that much.

Never before has Tommy thought about living in a crypt. And now he can’t stop thinking about it.

†††

It’s not the distant chirping of birds or the soft headbuts of a dog that awakens Tommy this morning. Nor was it a gentle nudging from his boyfriend, reminding him that he’s sleeping in way too late. No, what wakes Tommy up is a loud foghorn noise tearing through his room, and as he scrambles to sit up from panic, he sees Joshua sticking his head in through the door.

“Josh!” Gordon calls from somewhere in the crypt before Tommy can respond. “I said don’t wake him up!”

Joshua stares at Tommy blankly for a moment before frowning. “Sorry,” he apologizes, then disappears back into the hallway.

That’s one way to start the day.

It takes a few seconds of Tommy’s brain catching up with him to realize something. Today isn’t just any old day. Today is special, and important, and a lot of other things too!

Today is Tommy’s thirty-seventh birthday.

†††

The second Tommy walks into the kitchen, Benrey groans dramatically.

“Kid, you fucked it up,” Benrey glares down at Joshua.

Gordon, who’s busy with the mixing bowl, flicks the leftover batter from his rubber spatula towards Benrey. “Don’t say that to my son.”

The kitchen is full of activity. Bubby and Coomer are currently working at the stove, flipping pancakes and laughing to themselves. Joshua and Benrey were clearly once portioned out ingredients, but they've clearly devolved into messing around with each other instead of actual work.

Noticing Bubby sliding pancakes onto a plate, Tommy moves in. "Oh, let me-"

Bubby slaps Tommy's hand away with a spatula. "Nope! It's your birthday! Go sit down at the table."

Rubbing his slightly stinging fingers, Tommy does just that. He sits down next to his father, who offers him a smile.

"Hi, Dad," Tommy greets him.

"Happy birthday, Tommy," Gman says. "I've been put, in timeout."

"W-why?"

Coomer chimes in from across the kitchen. "He kept eating the whipped cream!"

Gman guiltily rubs the back of his neck. Tommy can see that they've already prepared quite a few toppings for the pancakes this morning, from a variety of fruits to the most sickeningly sweet syrup imaginable.

"This is- this is all for my birthday?" Tommy asks.

"Of course, dude," Gordon sits across from Tommy, abandoning his mixing bowl. "Darnold and Forzen had to run out. We ran out of a few ingredients." He smirks. "Don't worry, your boyfriend will be back to enjoy your birthday pancakes with you."

It's some combination of the lighthearted teasing from Gordon and the genuine act of making breakfast for his birthday that causes a flip to switch in Tommy's brain. He and his dad have been a two-person pack together for so long that he didn't realize. The second he moved into the crypt, his life changed in a way he couldn't have imagined. Tommy didn't just gain some cryptmates.

Tommy gained a pack.

And damn, if he doesn't love them for it.

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #monster au #tommy coolatta #my writing #on a dark and dreary night

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nctzendreamz · 5 years ago

Text

Little Things ⇒ (2) :: Mark Lee

The two of you still have to paint, right?

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

“This is so stressful.” You whine as you scroll through your phone intently; your empty hand covering the left side of your face. You were very much so frustrated, and as usual, Mark was silently watching you.

“What is?”

“It’s saying that we need to mix the blue with a more...solid color? To make it look more clean.”

“Then let’s do it.” His hand moves to motion towards the splattered newspapers on his wood flooring, set and ready to collect all the leftover mistakes and drippings.

“But it has to be perfect. I don’t want to mess this up.” You whisper gently, almost to yourself as you continue your search.

This wasn’t your usual attitude. The Y/N he knew couldn’t give a damn what a BuzzFeed article said about painting, or doing anything for that matter. This was a mere distraction, featuring you trying to do any and everything to take the attention off the clear elephant in the room.

How many times had he walked up to you today; each time involving him making the wrong touch, or uttering the wrong words? Not enough to make him not try again. This time, he takes gentle steps towards your horribly postured build, and locks your phone before you can even move away, throwing it onto his white sheets.

Usually, this was the part where you yell at him. You’d lightly punch his toned arm, once again, thanks to the age of twenty, and the two of you would fight over the device on his bed. Of course his feelings for you would make all of his hairs stand straight up, but even now as he looks back at it, he can’t sense your nervousness from those memories. Your giggle was prominent when he tickled you, and your smile was man-eating, but that wasn’t anything new.

Now, you simply stand in place. You take a deep breath, finally removing your gray jacket—his gray jacket, no longer chilly. The tension was too thick to be cold.

He knows you’re not going to say anything just yet. He can see all of your brain cells bouncing around your mind, trying to think of something clever to say. Something that’ll take the pressure off him.

“I think we’ll be fine just doing the blue. No solids, no extra. I don’t want it to be perfect just yet. I want this to be fun, and when it comes out looking like we painted it with nail polish, we can take so many pictures in front of it.” Mark chuckles, too amused about how much he sounds like you right now. Those combination of words were certainly Y/N approved; something you would’ve pointed out yesterday. Even this morning.

His breath was laying it thick on the side of your neck. You had no idea what he was thinking, but you can’t allow yourself to think about it because the wind from his lungs are causing you to sweat even more. You hated Mark so much, but you loved him even more. Even when he made you feel like this; a mess, unworthy. And you know he doesn’t do it on purpose. He was way too innocent to be such a heartbreaker. Someone who played with another’s feelings for the simple tingle for their tears and devotion. But it still hurts as he seemingly towers over you, your height not mattering because he always made you feel small.

“I’ll pour the paint in the bucket.” You mumble, taking a large stride to remove yourself from his un-tangible hold on you.

“I tried to talk to you about it the first time.” He whispers suddenly, but your heart doesn’t freeze. It doesn’t collapse into your stomach. You just want to explode. “I know.” Is all you can utter, rubbing the nervousness from your forehead repeatedly. It’s a horrible habit you formed as a young child. It’s old name used to be, “rubbing the headache away”. Now it had no name, as you didn’t want to give it anymore power.

“But I’m done pushing it under the rung.” His voice is waivering, and you don’t know why. You don’t understand how someone could be so oblivious to your uncomfort. Maybe he just doesn’t care, and can’t seem to notice the way your wrist hasn’t left your forehead. But then again, Mark knows you better than anyone. He knows that you want him to shut his mouth.

Zzz! Zzz! Zzz!

That’s the sound of your phone, just when Mark had once again inched closer to you. You tried to go around him, but he followed your movements wherever you tried to escape. He just needed the floor for a couple minutes. He didn’t like this. Why was this so hard? Two of the most stubborn people in the world did not deserve to be in such a predicament. And what made it worse, was that you usually weren’t so hard to open. You always were ready to tell him what was eating at you. He knows it’s different this time, but the confession had already been said. It was his turn now, but you were so convinced that his feelings were opposite of yours, your hands were metaphorically on your ears.

Why was he blaming you? God, he sounded so wishy washy right now. How could he blame you for believing his feelings weren’t the same? It was because he’s had so many damn chances to tell you, before and after he was aware that you loved him too, but he was too much of a pussy to say it. Even when you put yourself completely out there, he couldn’t fucking say it.

He has to force it out. He has to ignore his shaky hands, and even shaky feet from his legs completely losing control. “Y/N, I know you feel like this is awkward, and that you shouldn’t have told me.” He doesn’t know it, but this was horrible word choice. This was totally leading up to the, “but this doesn’t change our friendship conversation” but he didn’t notice. He was trying so hard as he takes your hand into his own, rubbing it softly as he always does when he doesn’t feel safe, or when he’s nervous as hell.

“But I need you to know that I—

The sound of his door being banged on interrupted all the confidence of his confession, no matter how poor it started.

“Who could that be?” He questions, his eyebrows almost crossing eachother because he truly doesn’t understand. Why was the universe messing with him? He was finally going to do it. He was going to take his happiness.

Your silence wasn’t abnormal, but at the same time, it’s eerie. You would’ve at least asked did he invite someone over and forget, but your eyes read almost too good to be true innocence. Maybe it’s because he knows you too well.

“I’ll get it if you want.” You move in a hurry to get the door, but his grip on your hand doesn’t remove itself.

The person behind the door knocks again, this time even louder. Mark runs to the door silently, looking through the peephole to see if he needs to tell you to hide in the bathroom or not, and get a sad attempt of a weapon out of his five kitchen utensils; all things he stole from the dorm. Also all butter-knives.

“Johnny?” He whispers to himself, even more confused now. But he still opens the door, because anything could be wrong, or hopefully really right for his older brother in spirit.

“Mark!” Johnny trails off like a frat boy. “What’s up dude!”

This talk—it was comedic and brings a smile to Mark’s face, but he still doesn’t understand. Johnny’s usual fashion isn’t sported today. He decided on sweat pants and a white shirt; socks and sandals being his shoe choice.

And Mark is so focused on speculating Johnny’s fit, that he can’t see the five other boys behind him, waited to be invited in. Jaehyun, Taeyong, Ten, Doyoung, and Jungwoo. All in similar outfits, food in one hand, and different brushes in the other.

“You told us you were painting today!” Jaehyun laughs, moving past Johnny and Mark to step into the warm abode. He clearly hadn’t felt the tension yet. Just the puzzledness from his younger group mate.

“And we had to join the fun.” Johnny adds. “Is anybody else here?”

And that’s when Mark realizes exactly how this happened. The minute you questioned him in the car, you weren’t actually scrolling through painting tips. That was a mere distraction while you waited for Johnny to text you back. He was your rescuer from him. Mark had allowed the pressure to get so high, that you actually called his bandmates to properly hide from him in the mixture of laughs.

“Hey guys.” Your voice yells throughout the house, a complete switch from the person he was just talking to before they came in. This was the Y/N he knew. Constantly happy, and not letting anything bother them. He wasn’t saying it was right, but it was you.

“Y/N!” They all yell in fake surprise, causing Mark to laugh a little too, even though he’s actually hurt. His hand goes to scratch his belly, and he realizes he needs to go in the kitchen to pull himself together.

All of this love between two people, and they still can’t figure it out—well, he can’t figure it out.

#nct #nct 127 #nct mark #mark nct #mark lee #mark #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark imagine #kpop #kpop imagine

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huttons · 5 years ago

Text

Never Really Was Enough, Pt II

word count: 3.9k

warnings: talk of homophobia, off-screen character death

summary: When Eva moves to Raleigh, it wasn’t a happy occasion. She needed to get away from her family and moving across the country was the quickest way for her to accomplish that. As she finds her place in Raleigh, she finds a new family with people she never expected to (especially with a certain red-headed hockey player).

authors note: written as part of FandomTrumpsHate for @antoineroussel <3

pt. one | ao3 link

~ ~ ~

“You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days, someone is going to find you.”

By the time November rolls around, Eva feels like she’s finally settled into Raleigh and can finally think of it as home. It’s a good feeling, one that she wasn’t expecting at first. But work has been going extremely well and she’s got a few friends now.

There still hasn’t been any word from her family, and while it isn’t surprising, it still hurts that they don’t care enough to reach out to her, especially with the holidays coming up. Eva is complaining about this when Sammy brings up the fact that the Canes are doing a Thanksgiving get-together in a couple of weeks.

“I just know that you won’t be going home, and Patrick and I can’t afford to go visit either of our families right now,” Sammy explains. “And don’t offer to pay for anything again. Just because you have the money for it doesn’t mean you need to spend it on us like that.”

“I know, I just want you guys to be happy,” Eva says. “But…if you really think that they would be okay with me coming, then yeah, I’d love to come.”

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a ragtag group of people who don’t have anyone else, so you won’t be out of place.”

“In that case, count me in. I was honestly expecting to spend Thanksgiving by myself, so I think I can handle hanging out with y’all.”

“Eva, did you really think that we would have you spend the holidays by yourself?”

Eva shrugs. “I mean, you guys have family, so it’s not like I was expecting for you to hang around here. And it would have sucked, but I wouldn’t have minded too much. I didn’t celebrate with my family too much anyways once I left for university.”

“That’s shitty,” Sammy says, bringing Eva in for a short hug.

“Yeah, but I got used to it, with it just being my brother and I for a while.”

“Well, consider us your new family. You’re going to be stuck with us forever.”

“I guess there’s worse things out there.”

~ ~ ~

Once the holiday party rolls around, Eva has baked what feels like a million different desserts. Sammy had been insistent that she didn’t need to bring anything, but it’s been a long time since Eva has been able to bake for a large group of people. Besides, it helps get her mind off of her nervousness of seeing Dougie again.

It’s not like she has a crush on him, but he’s exactly her type and if they continue to run into each other, then it’s something she has to get figured out. So, she bakes until she’s unsure of how she’s going to be able to transport it all. Surely there’ll be at least a couple of people who’ll be bribed into helping in exchange for extra dessert.

Once Eva arrives at the house that’s hosting the event, she texts Sammy to bring a couple of people to help her. As she looks at the cakes, cookies, and pies she made, Eva is starting to think she’s made it painfully obvious that she’s been stress baking. But she shrugs it off, knowing that they’ll all probably disappear by the end of the night.

“Jesus, how much did you end up baking?” Sammy asks, a bit of shock in her voice.

She looks over to see that Sammy has enlisted Dougie for help, and Eva is really wondering why this has to be the first time she’s seeing him today.

Eva shrugs. “You said there were going to be players here, I figured they could finish it all.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Dougie replies. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to eat everything, even if we shouldn’t.”

“Well, that’s good,” Eva says. “Let’s get going because this might take a couple of trips.”

When the three of them walk into the house, they’re greeted by a small group that’s hanging out in the living room. Within seconds, they’re there to grab the desserts from their hands, taking them to the designated table.

“Wow, where was the offer for help earlier?” Sammy snorts.

“You didn’t tell us what it was for,” one of the guys replies.

Sammy just rolls her eyes, before heading back out to Eva’s car to get the rest of the desserts. Dougie and Eva trail behind her, laughing as they head out.

“So, couldn’t fly back home?” he asks Eva.

“Oh, she could afford it, but she decided she would rather be stuck with us instead,” Sammy interjects, giving Eva an out from having to explain.

“It’s a decision I’m starting to regret greatly,” Eva says flatly.

Dougie lets out one of his infectious laughs as they get to her car. The walk back is quiet and once they’re all back, Eva gets swept up into conversations with some of the office staff that recognize her from the last two events. She’s a little sad she doesn’t get to see much of Dougie, but it’s probably the best if she doesn’t want to fall halfway in love with him.

Before she knows it, Eva is feeling full and tired. The day passes in a blur, but she feels more content than she has in a while. In a way, it almost felt like the holidays with her family, before everything turned out for the worse. As she gets ready to head out, Dougie comes over to say goodbye.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much today,” he says apologetically.

“It’s not a big deal, I get that you’re popular around here,” Eva replies jokingly.

“Still, I’d been hoping to talk to you a bit more. I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable exchanging numbers?”

And, well, Eva can’t say no to that. So, she ends up leaving with leftovers that will last for days and a new number in her phone. She isn’t really sure if anything is even going to come of it, but she can’t help but to hope that they’ll at least become friends. When Eva gets home, she flops on her bed and opens up a new message with Dougie.

Debating what to say, she simply texts, I hope you got a chance to try something I made today, I wasn’t expecting people to like them so much lol

Once she sends it, she just whispers, “Why the fuck did I send that ? It sounds like I’m fishing for compliments now.”

Only a few minutes later, he texts back, I think you definitely made enough for me to grab something in time 😉 you did good tho, def worth breaking my meal plan for

Oh that’s good then

Dougie doesn’t reply, and Eva decides she doesn’t want to come off as desperate for attention, so she doesn’t send anything back. Feeling a bit weird about the whole thing, Eva tosses her phone on her nightstand, then pulls up Netflix and falls asleep binge watching tv.

The next week passes by in the same routine that Eva has grown used to. She doesn’t hear much from Dougie, most of their conversations are just her congratulating him on playing well. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Eva is a little disappointed. When they exchanged numbers, while she wasn’t expecting them to become close, it would have been nice for there to be at least a little substance to their conversations.

“Look, he’s just someone who appreciates talking in person more,” Sammy says when Eva complains about it.

“Is that you hinting that I need to invite him to hang out in person?” Eva asks, scrunching her nose in disdain.

“Hanging out with Dougie isn’t a bad thing. He’s a pretty chill guy and doesn’t expect you to talk all the time. The dude is huge into museums and shit. I know Raleigh isn’t known for having those, but it’s worth going to.”

“Wouldn’t he have already gone to them if he likes them so much?”

“Yeah, but I doubt he’s gone with anyone. Hockey players aren’t much on casually going to museums with their bros.”

“I guess you’re right. And he won’t think this is like…a date or anything, right?”

“No, he’ll just take it as the two of you going to a museum, nothing more. He’ll probably appreciate the company.”

“Fine,” Eva groans.

“Again, if anything happens, I’m taking all of the credit.”

“I really hate you right now.”

“Love you too, Eva.”

~ ~ ~

Dougie seemed ecstatic going to the museum with Eva. He basically confirmed what Sammy has said, that nobody was keen on going to any of the museums with him. So, on a rare Saturday that he has off, Dougie is dragging Eva to the Natural History Museum. He’s excited about the exhibit that they have on display right now, which is something about puzzles.

“So…is it like a history of puzzles?” Eva inquires, as they walk up to the museum.

“No, it’s all about brain games and engaging with the exhibit,” Dougie explains. “It’s all about being hands on.”

“Oh, that should be fun then. No wonder you seem so excited about it,” Eva replies.

“You should be good at them too, since you’re an engineer.”

“Just because I’m an engineer doesn’t make me smarter than anyone else. It’s not my fault society acts like I know more.”

Dougie just laughs. When they get to the ticket office, Dougie buys Eva’s ticket before she can do anything. She just rolls her eyes, and doesn’t say anything until they’re off to the puzzles exhibit.

“I can afford to buy my own ticket, you know. Engineering is lucrative enough for me to be able to buy my own ticket,” Eva says.

“Yeah, but I’m a hockey player, which is even more lucrative.”

“But have you considered that being a hockey player isn’t forever?”

“I’m one right now though, and that’s what matters.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I wanted to hang out with you willingly today,” Eva groans.

Dougie laughs loudly. When they walk into the special exhibit area, they both freeze as they take it in. He was right about it being an interactive puzzle exhibit, but apparently failed to notice that it seemed to be for young kids. Parents were standing around, watching their kids run through the mazes.

“Well, at least you’ll be able to solve them now,” Eva jokes.

“Is that a dig at my intelligence?” Dougie replies, faking offense.

“Maybe,” Eva says, a lip tugging at her lips.

“I’m sorry this was a bust, but do you want to take a look around at the other exhibits?” he asks.

“Sure, sounds good to me.”

And that’s how the two of them spend the rest of the morning looking around. As interesting as it is, Eva is more excited about being able to spend time with Dougie. He’s so much more down-to-earth than she was expecting and Eva feels her crush on him growing larger. While that isn’t what she was hoping for, she supposes there are worse people to have a crush on.

“Are you up for getting lunch together?” Dougie asks as they leave the museum.

“Yeah, if you let me pay for it,” Eva retorts. “Let me spend some of my money.”

“That’s supposed to be my line,” Dougie protests.

“Well, too bad,” she says, smiling widely.

“Fine,” he groans. “I guess I can let you get away with it this time.”

They end up going to a small café only a few blocks away and grab a small table in the corner. Conversation flows easily as they eat their lunch, and Eva finds herself enjoying herself a little too much. Besides Sammy and Patrick, it’s been a long time since she’s found someone she genuinely likes hanging out with. Sure, she hangs out with James and other coworkers on those late nights in the office (or diner), but it’s not the same thing.

“I had a good time,” Dougie says, as he walks Eva back to her car.

“Yeah, me too,” Eva replies. “We should do this again. I’m sure I can hang out during the week, as long as I make it up during the weekend.”

“You don’t have to do that for me,” he says, frowning. “I’m sure I can find some more weekends at some point.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I’ve had to come in during weekends before, it’s not an unusual experience.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Dougie, I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay then,” he says, smiling softly.

On Eva’s drive back to her apartment, she feels herself smiling stupidly. She really enjoyed being around Dougie and the thought of them hanging out again warms her heart. When she gets back to her apartment, Eva notices that Dougie has already text his schedule for the next couple of weeks. They manage to find a time for them to get dinner the following Wednesday. No matter what Eva thinks, she keeps saying that it’s not a date.

~ ~ ~

By the time Wednesday rolls around, Eva is freaking out. While she knows that it’s not a date, she still wants to make a good impression. Sammy is teasing her about it, but helps calm her down.

“Look, you said that it’s not a date, so just wear what you would wear if we were getting dinner,” Sammy says.

“Right, of course,” Eva whispers.

This helps her settle on a casual outfit, and Sammy soothes her a little more before heading out. Dougie sends her a text not too much later telling Eva that he’s waiting outside her apartment. When she heads down to the curbside, she looks around, trying to find him. She hears a honk from a car nearby, and sees Dougie waiting inside.

“You know, I didn’t picture you driving a Yaris ,” Eva teases. “It’s smaller than I was expecting.”

Dougie snorts. “You’re not the first person to say that. But it was the only rental they had when I first came here and I got attached to it.”

“Only you would get attached to a car,” Eva jokes.

“Why is it that you always find something to tease me about?”

“Well, it’s not like you make it that hard.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than I am.”

Conversation continues to flow in an easy banter as they head to the restaurant that Dougie had picked out. It’s a small family owned Hawaiian place that has been around for a while, with great recommendations. By the time that they get there, Eva is feeling much more at ease than she had earlier in the evening. Dinner continues in a similar fashion, with small jokes and talking about what Eva does.

“So, I can come to you with computer issues?” Dougie asks.

“I guess I could try,” Eva replies. “But that’s more IT than engineering.”

“Thought I would ask anyways,” he says. “So, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Uh, yeah?” Eva replies, a bit confused.

“So, um, I know that this might seem sudden, but I was wondering if you might want to go on a date sometime?” Dougie asks hopefully.

“Oh, Dougie, I…” Eva starts to say.

“Was I reading this wrong?” he replies, face falling.

“No, no, it’s just…let me explain,” Eva says, sighing. “I’m openly bisexual and while I figure that you probably have no problem with it, because you seem like a great person, but…I know how bad the sports community is about this kind of thing. And while I’m sure things might be fine; I also know that people go digging for things.

“I had a girlfriend back in university and I still have pictures of us on my Instagram together. We’re still good friends and those are still happy memories for me. I don’t want to have to hide that part of me and while I might be overreacting…I need to look out for myself, Dougie,” Eva explains. “So, while this isn’t a no, I do need to think about it. And I need you to think about it too, because if people end up talking about it…”

She feels like she laid herself completely bare, letting Dougie see more than she was planning on. But…Eva thought about this over the last few days, and wants to let her concerns be known. Dougie seems to still be processing the news, taking time to consider everything. She appreciates that he isn’t rushing to an answer.

“While I can’t say that I really get it, because I don’t, I understand why you would be nervous,” Dougie says, measuring his words carefully. “I’ll wait for you, though. I know that we honestly don’t know each other all that well, but I know that you’re worth waiting for.”

“Thank you,” Eva whispers. “It’s a lot to take in, I’m fully aware of that, but it’s something that I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about going on a date with me?” Dougie jokes.

Eva blushes. “Was that not obvious?”

“It’s just nice to get a little bit of validation.”

Eva just rolls her eyes. The rest of dinner continues in a comfortable silence, Dougie obviously processing everything that he was told. It was obviously a lot for Eva to trust him with everything she told him, so he decides to let her set the pace of what happens next. He doesn’t want to push her too much.

“We can still hang out if you want to,” Eva says softly, as they walk back to Dougie’s car.

“Yeah, I would like that, if you don’t mind,” he replies. “Even if we decide dating is off the table, I still want to be your friend.”

Eva smiles at this, and it helps ease her a little bit. Things are comfortable on the drive back to her apartment, and before she heads out, she gives him a tight hug. Once she gets up to the apartment, it feels like it’s only a few minutes later than Sammy is knocking on her door to get all the details.

“He asked me on a date,” Eva says.

“And?” Sammy asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I told him I would think about it. I just…I don’t want to have to hide my sexuality again, that’s why I moved down here to Raleigh. No matter how much I like him, if he can’t handle me not hiding it…I don’t want to date him,” Eva explains. “And I’m honestly not sure if I could handle shitty comments either. Like…I know it’s not all that likely, but there has to be a few people that’ll say something .”

“That’s shitty that you even have to think about that,” Sammy replies, hugging Eva briefly.

Eva shrugs. “It is, but it’s the reality of the situation.”

“Do you want to date him though?”

“Yeah, he seems like a great guy. If we didn’t have to think about all of this, I would have said yes in a heartbeat.”

“Then I think that’s something to remember,” Sammy says. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair, I just wanted all the deets right away.”

Eva snorts. “Thanks for stopping by, I appreciate it.”

“You always have me and Patrick, no matter what.”

Eva gives Sammy another hug before she leaves. Sighing, Eva gets ready for bed and mulls over everything that happened. She wants to say yes, wants to text Dougie about it, but she knows that she has to think about it more seriously now. And so does he, and Eva prepares for the minor heartbreak if he decides that she’s just not worth the trouble. But whatever happens, the end result will be worth it.

The more she thinks about it, she feels like she could handle whatever happens as long as Dougie is okay with it. Having his support would mean a lot to Eva, and as long as things don’t get too bad, she feels like she can handle whatever happens. Besides, it’s not like she’s a player that’s coming out, so things shouldn’t be nearly as bad.

A couple of days pass before Eva gets a text from Dougie that just says, I was wondering if we could meet up to talk about what’s going on?

Yeah, but could we do it at one of our places?

I could come to your apartment. I feel like you’d feel more comfortable there

Oh, yeah, that would actually be nice. Are you free any time tomorrow?

I can come over in the evening, once you get off work? I can bring dinner.

See you then 😊

Time seems to either go too fast or two slow. Eva barely remembers anything that happens at work the next day, and James doesn’t ask if she wants to work late, seeing that she’s a little bit out of it. Once she gets home, Eva paces aimlessly around her apartment, unsure of what to do. When she hears a knock on her door, she practically runs over to open it.

Dougie is standing there, with a bag of takeout. Whatever it is, Eva guesses that it isn’t meal plan approved. But she considers that with the conversation they’re having tonight, a bit of junk food won’t be too bad.

“Uh, come on it,” Eva says, stepping to the side to let him in. “You can set this down in the kitchen.”

Once he’s set down the food, Eva leads him to her living room, and they both take a seat down on the couch. It’s quiet for a moment, neither really knowing what to say. She’s unsure if she wants to go first, since her answer depends on what he’s thinking.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Dougie says. “And I can only imagine how hard it was for you to tell me what you did. You being bi, it’s a big part of who you are, but it’s not going to impact how much I want to date you. I want to date you because you’re an amazing person and that hasn’t changed. I know that it could turn out badly because people are shitty, but…we can figure that all out together. Admittedly, I don’t know what I can do to support you, but whatever that looks like, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Eva whispers. “I’m still a bit scared, it’s hard not to be, but I want to date you. You’re a good person and I feel like things could be good between us.”

“So, you want to date me?”

Eva snorts. “Yeah, I think I could do that.”

Dougie smiles brightly, then it dims a little. “Does this count as our first date?”

“I don’t see why not,” Eva says, shrugging.

“This isn’t how I imagined it going,” Dougie replies, scrunching his nose. “But I guess there’s no time like the present.”

“I admire your positivity.”

Dougie laughs, and Eva smiles brightly. It’s good to hear his laugh again, and Eva gets excited thinking about how she can hear it even more now.

“You know, I think your laugh is my favorite part of you,” Eva says.

“You’re really picking my laugh over my dashing good looks?” Dougie asks, feigning offense.

“Unfortunately,” Eva sighs.

There’s still so much that Eva has yet to tell Dougie, about why she left home and why she’s scared for people to find out about them. But there’ll be time for that in the future, and she doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

#dougie hamilton #carolina hurricanes #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey rpf #fic #mine

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kaistarus · 5 years ago

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Clickbait--Chapter 4

Summary: A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being a lack of personal privacy. Due to just one video, Kirishima’s least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he’s dragging down with him won’t mind…

Pairing: Kiribaku

Words: 3,990

Notes: Ya’ know when life and college happen? Anyway, I have full intentions to finish this story. It’s all plotted out, so don’t worry about me falling off the face of the earth :) I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait! Read the full story here

Kirishima stood stunned at his front door. He refused to believe that Bakugou Katsuki was standing mere feet away on the other side of that false wood. How could it be that Bakugou would choose the day Kirishima had run out of laundry to show up at his home uninvited? The pair of his questionably clean Mysteries Unsolved sweatpants weighed heavy on his waist as his eyes remained fixated on the handle, hoping if he remained still, he could convince himself it was all a cruel figment of his morning imagination.

Another round of pounding racked the door.

“What the hell was that, Shitty Hair?” An unmistakable raspy voice came muffled through the wood. Kirishima was wrong. Bakugou was here and this was real, and he was doomed.

Kaminari wrapped his arms around his head and groaned on the kitchen floor, “make it stop.”

“Is something wrong?” Sero asked. Mina rose from her seat and Kirishima tried motioning for her to stay still. She rolled her eyes and made her way towards where he was on the verge of another mental break.

He’s been having an awful lot of those lately, he realized. He seriously needed to take time to sit back and reconsider several of his recent life choices.

“Bakugou’s here.” He whispered, nodding towards the door. Mina raised her brows and mouthed ‘Bakugou’ to Sero who shot her an exhausted look.

“It wasn’t me,” Mina put her hands up defensively, then gave Kirishima a pointed look. “You know we have to open that door.”

“No, we don’t,” Kirishima began guiding her away from the entryway, but Mina pushed back against him. They started shoving back and forth; hands in faces, elbows in stomachs, Mina pulling every dirty tactic to fake-out Kirishima in hopes of getting a grasp on the doorknob; however, he had a major height advantage and easily blocked her path.

“Ei, we can’t just leave them in the hallway.” Mina puffed up her cheeks in a pout. She ducked beneath his arm, nearly reaching her goal before Kirishima wrapped his arms around her mid-section and tossed her over his shoulder. Mina kicked and squealed against him as he moved her away from the entrance. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“No, you’re being ridiculous!” Kirishima angled his face away from her flailing limbs, “betray me again Mina and I swear to god I’ll—Oh!” Kirishima fell to his knees when one of Mina’s uncoordinated flails resulted in a swift kick to his groin. The moment she was free she gave him a short apology before dashing away. Kirishima didn’t even have time to protest. Too busy face-planting the carpet in agony—physical and emotional—to the sounds of Sero’s cackling and Kaminari’s pitiful whines.

What a way to go out, he thought. Face smashed into the floor, ass in the air, and his dignity nowhere to be found. It’s a near spitting image of how he’d always imagined.

“The fuck is going on?”

Kirishima’s shoulders shot to his ears. He rotated his head towards the door to find an upside-down image of Bakugou and Uraraka staring down at him. Uraraka held her hands against her mouth like she was trying to hold in a laugh while Bakugou just glared. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one standing beside the open door, head cradled in his hands. Kirishima shot him a dirty look.

“I had to stop the knocking dude,” Kaminari said before slinking down against the wall. Kirishima grumbled several half-assed insults and turned away from their newly entered guests.

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” He heard Mina skip over to be obnoxiously friendly. He sneered. He definitely was not throwing a fit though because he was an adult and adults don’t throw fits. He crossed his arms.

“You sure? ‘Cause it sounded like you were haven’t quite the argument.” Uraraka said cheekily. Kirishima felt his face flame up. He let his butt sink down and hoped the rest of him would melt into the floor with it.

“Oh, that? Just the usual banter…” Mina laughed awkwardly, trying to wave it off. Kirishima sighed and suddenly he was reminded why they never collaborated with anyone outside of their small group. Chaotic mess.

He felt a kick to his side and grumbled. He attempted to ignore it, but the kicks increased in strength so Kirishima rolled over to tell who he assumed was Sero off. Words failed him when he was met with a set scarlet stare.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Bakugou gave him another rough nudge with the toe of his shoe. Kirishima tried pushing him off, but Bakugou just pressed down harder.

“I gave him a good kick where it hurts,” Mina winked.

“It was awesome,” Sero said. “A one-hit knockout.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “So, you just gonna pout for the rest of the fucking day?”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Sure, fucking looks like it.” Bakugou smirked. Kirishima narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, and nice pants.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened. He’d completely forgotten he was wearing Mysteries Unsolved merch. Bakugou’s smirk grew cocky and he nudged Kirishima a little harder. Kirishima felt like his face was going to start on fire.

“So, what’s our game plan for the day?” Uraraka asked, pulling Bakugou away by the top of his shirt. Kirishima was grateful. Another second of physical contact with mocking and he’d probably be dead. “We were promised a YouTube video?”

“I’m pretty sure only you were promised a YouTube video.” Sero pointed at her with his greasy spatula and Bakugou glared back. Sero put his hands up defensively. “Not that we’re disappointed you’re here…”

“Real convincing, Soy Sauce.”

Sero stared off for a moment, as if trying to process Bakugou’s words. They lost him for several minutes.

“I, for one, am more than happy you’re here. I’m sure Kirishima is too!” Mina shot him a smile. He made eye-contact with Bakugou and mumbled out a quick agreement.

“Well, what the fuck do you normally do for videos?” Bakugou asked, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Well, normally we just fuck around for a week and then I edit it to make it look like we’re cool.” Kirishima crossed his arms. “When I’m lazy I just throw together some leftover clips, call them bloopers and throw them up on my second channel.”

“I do that, but all in one day and once a month.” Kaminari piped up from the floor. Sero rolled his eyes.

“They didn’t ask you.” Sero pointed out. Kaminari stuck out his tongue, curling back up onto his side for his umpteenth hangover nap that morning.

“Well, are we gonna just fuck around then?” Bakugou asked. Kirishima felt his face warm up a bit and turned away from them.

“We could always do a challenge video?” Mina said, tapping her chin. “You post those on your second channel too sometimes.”

Kirishima shrugged. “I suppose. I haven’t done that in months.” It was actually a great idea. Those always got a lot of views since he rarely posted them, and he could use some bloopers for the next main channel video. “Yeah, actually that’d be great.”

“It works for my channel too since we can just split clips.” Mina smiled. “Especially if we’re on different teams.”

Now Kirishima was getting the feeling that he should be extremely against whatever idea Mina was coming up with. The way she was eyeing up Bakugou gave him all sorts of red flags.

“Teams?” Uraraka tapped her chin as well. Kirishima glanced between the girls who now wore identical expressions. He watched them lock eyes and smile mischievously each other. Why would he ever think introducing another deviously evil personality to Mina was a good idea? He looked to Bakugou who was staring at everyone indifferently. Did he seriously not notice the plotting occurring?

Kaminari suddenly perked up. “That’s absolutely genius. Think of all the views a video with Kirishima and Bakugou would get.”

Everyone except Kirishima nodded.

“I mean, we shouldn’t do a video just for views.” Kirishima lifted himself into sitting. “C’mon… don’t we have morals? Standards?”

Everyone in the room blinked.

“Do you have… morals?” Kaminari tilted his head towards Mina.

“Never heard of her.”

“Standards left me years ago.” Uraraka shrugged.

Kirishima’s jaw hung open and he turned to Bakugou looking for help, but Bakugou just shrugged loosely. Kirishima struggled for words before sighing. “At least let me shower.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mina cheered.

If anyone had told him that he would have his crush publicly released for clickbait only to be filming videos with the guy days later for that same clickbait… he’d think they were absolutely insane. Maybe he was the insane one?

What even was his life anymore…

The game Kirishima had no say in since he’d been in the shower was the Newly Wed game. The concept seemed innocent enough when they explained it to him. They were asked questions and their partner had to guess the right answer. Easy. The only problem being the abnormal amount of information Kirishima knew about Bakugou.

“We’re positive I shouldn’t be partnered with Mina?” Kirishima was already finding it hard to look at Bakugou now that Sero convinced him to wear Vlog Squad merch. Bakugou in his red Vlog Squad hoodie might actually kill him if he thought about it too hard.

“People already know we’re best friends.” Mina rolled her eyes. “They want to see you and Bakugou versus me and Uraraka.”

“This is fine with you?” Kirishima asked Bakugou who had been casually leaning against the kitchen counter. Seeing Bakugou fit so easily in his home was really messing with his head. Kirishima clenched his fists to remain focused.

“I don’t make mediocre videos.” He raised a brow. “Either this shit gets trending, or it was a waste of my time.”

Sero snorted from where he was setting up their filming area. “Sounds like a yes if I’ve ever heard one.”

Bakugou scowled and went to check what Sero was doing. Kirishima watched them discuss Sero’s equipment, defeated once again. Mina was already grabbing small whiteboards she left in Kaminari’s bedroom with her extra supplies while Uraraka scrolled through questions with Kaminari who was finally beginning to rejoin reality.

Once again it looked like his fate had been placed in the hands of his friends.

“You ready, Ei?” Mina smiled, hugging the boards to her chest. He took a deep breath glancing at the blonde boy in the center of his living room, looking over tech equipment with Sero. It felt like he was moving through this day half-awake, like he’d go to sleep tonight thinking it was all a dream.

He nodded.

The couples sat next to each other on the boy’s living room couch leaving a small space between them. When Sero signaled they were recording Mina and Kirishima gave their usual over the top introductions before introducing their guests. Uraraka waved overexcited while Bakugou barely acknowledged the camera.

“Denki is also here only this time we’ve kicked him behind the camera. He’ll be asking the questions.” Mina pointed to Kaminari with her dry erase marker and Kaminari leaned over the camera, shoving his face directly into the lens with a wide smile. Kirishima and Bakugou simultaneously groaned.

“What’s the punishment?” Bakugou asked, tapping his marker against the whiteboard. They all looked at him and Uraraka’s eyes lit ablaze.

“Uh, we didn’t come up with one.” Kirishima tilted his head.

“The winners can tweet something off of the losers Twitter.” Uraraka smirked, “it’s an oldie, but a goodie.”

“That’s no fair.” Mina puffed up her cheeks. “Bakugou doesn’t have a Twitter.”

“Who says?” Bakugou stated. Kirishima whipped his head towards Bakugou and Mina’s jaw dropped.

“You have a Twitter?” Kirishima asked. There’s absolutely no way. Kirishima had spent hours internet stalking this guy and never found any hints of a social media account.

“I don’t know,” Bakugou smirked while scribbling something on the whiteboard. “Let’s win and maybe you’ll find out.”

Kirishima turned red. Was Bakugou flirting with him? It was probably just for the video, but Kirishima was pretty sure he was being flirted with. Then again Kirishima hasn’t been flirted with in years, so he doesn’t know how to read any signals and could be misinterpreting every—

“Earth to Ei!”

“Huh?” Kirishima turned to Kaminari who was snapping at him.

“Team names?”

Bakugou turned their board around and Kirishima had to cover his face. In darkened letters, Bakugou had written ‘KIRIBAKU’ across the top in red. “Fucking obviously.” Bakugou cackled.

“Dude.” Kirishima whined.

Mina pouted, turning their board around which said ‘PINK BALLOONS’ with a few balloons doodled in the corner. “No fair. You’re baiting the viewers to favor you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bakugou said with a devious smile.

“Blasty always plays dirty.” Uraraka rolled her eyes.

“Fuck off,” Bakugou growled.

“YouTube friendly.” Kirishima muttered with crossed arms. “This is my only monetizable content, dude.”

Bakugou was quiet for a moment before mumbling. “Frick off.”

Kirishima started laughing and Bakugou had a small smile. Uraraka shook her head. “Bakugou isn’t monetizable.”

“I can be fucking monetizable.” Bakugou growled with clenched teeth. They all looked at him and he sagged his shoulders. “Fricking.”

“I was kidding. I can edit, don’t sweat it, dude.” Kirishima waved it off with a wide smile. Bakugou stopped for a moment and just stared at him. Kirishima raised a brow and Bakugou quickly turned away.

“Oh, he’s really sweaty. So that’s probably not—”

“Would you shut the fuck up!?” Bakugou leaned over and threw one of their markers at Uraraka. She squealed when it narrowly missed her face and threw one back that smacked Kirishima right in the chest. Uraraka apologized repeatedly while Bakugou sent her double middle fingers from behind Kirishima’s back.

“Alright, first question.” Kaminari said, completely ignoring the situation in front of him. Bakugou and Uraraka settled down, but the competitive air had risen exponentially between them. Kirishima and Mina glanced at each other helplessly. “What’s your partner’s favorite food?”

Bakugou snorted before confidently writing down an answer. Kirishima was surprised, but the answer was pretty easy—meat. He’d eat any and all kinds of meat if it was cooked well; honestly, even if it was cooked mediocrely he’d probably still eat it. He supposed that made it a broad guessing category.

“See this game is fun because it shows us who’s a stalker.” Sero nudged Kaminari and they snickered evilly. Kirishima’s eyes widened. So, it wasn’t just him who had that thought. He side-glanced Bakugou whose grip tightened slightly on the whiteboard as he zoned out on his answer. Was he rethinking his guess?

“Alright, flip.”

Bakugou hesitated briefly, but when he turned the board it read the right answer. Kirishima’s heart fluttered unreasonably and he tried desperately to fight back his dopey smile. However, Mina was also correct. Bakugou and Mina both smirked at their personal victories, then glared at each other.

“What the hell?” Bakugou sneered, erasing his answer. “Why would you know that?”

“Because I pay attention to her behind the scenes videos.” Mina winked at Uraraka who blew her a kiss back. “Why would you know Kirishima’s favorite food?”

“Look at the guy,” Bakugou gestured to him with the marker. “He’s never seen a damn vegetable in his life.”

“I eat vegetables.” Kirishima scoffed. Bakugou gave him a pointed look and Kirishima turned away with pouted lips. So maybe they were his least favorite food group, but once a month he chose the salad option when they got fast food and he deserved credit for that.

“The second question,” Kaminari drawled out, now hanging upside down off their ottoman. “How old was your partner when they had their first kiss?”

Kirishima knew the answer was fifteen. He also knew that Bakugou got his first kiss on a dare because Uraraka had teased him about it on one of her Instagram stories. Obviously, he couldn’t write all that, so he pretended to be uncertain about the answer, erasing a couple of times, before finally writing the correct number.

When he finished Bakugou was looking at him suspiciously.

“What?”

“That took you a while.” Bakugou said, raising an eyebrow.

“It was… a hard question?” He tried to lie, but he was never good at hiding his emotions. Mina always said he got betrayed by is big eyes; he was an open book whether he liked it or not.

“You’re a shit liar.” Bakugou smirked. Kirishima felt his face turn red and he racked his mind for an excuse. He came up completely empty.

He frowned. “I know.”

“No throwing.” Bakugou said, completely serious. “I can’t have Pinky going through my phone.”

When they flipped their boards Kirishima obviously got it right claiming he guessed. Uraraka had gotten it wrong and Mina clung to her shoulders fake crying about betrayal, and how she thought what they had was real. Bakugou fake gagged through the whole act.

“How many siblings does your partner have? Bonus points for details.” Kaminari said, now slugged onto the floor.

Bakugou started writing. Kirishima stared in awe because he just didn’t stop writing.

“What are writing a novel?” Uraraka asked, snorting. Bakugou just threw up a middle finger.

When it was time to flip the boards around Kirishima’s jaw dropped. Bakugou had filled the whiteboard with information about his sisters. Even Mina lowered her board down.

“Two.” Bakugou stated confidently, looking right into the camera. “One is older, and her name is Misaha who you facetime once a week; she’s 23. The second is Aiko. She’s still in high school. 16, I think?”

Bakugou looked at Kirishima for confirmation and Kirishima just nodded his head slowly. Bakugou smirked and motioned for Kaminari to give them points. Kaminari blinked a few times but drew several tallies on their side of the scoreboard.

“How do you know all of that?” Mina said, slamming her whiteboard with only a zero written on it on her lap.

“You literally have to be following him on social media and have watched like three vlogs.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and erased his answer. “He never shuts up about his family. Posts about them all the fucking time.”

“He’s not wrong.” Sero shrugged.

Kirishima tilted his head. “You watch my vlogs?”

Bakugou shrugged. “So, what? You watch our stuff.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughed. “But that’s different.”

“How?”

“Well…” Kirishima furrowed his brow. Bakugou’s content was good? Bakugou and Midoriya were real YouTubers? Kirishima didn’t feel like he was anyone worth Bakugou’s free time?

Kirishima shrugged.

“Whatever, you’re both awesome we get it. Can we continue?” Kaminari took a deep breath, oblivious to Bakugou’s vicious glare. “What’s your partner’s favorite movie?”

After that Kirishima was starting to feel like Bakugou was less someone unreachable that he should be idolizing and more just… a person. Kirishima wasn’t afraid to answer the questions he knew truthfully; Bakugou even high-fived him when he knew the name of Mysteries Unsolved’s first YouTube video. He didn’t have to feel anxious around the guy anymore and it felt… amazing.

Once Mina realized Bakugou was a bit of a Vlog Squad fanboy she nearly quit the game. There was no hope for her and Uraraka since the boys ended on a near-perfect score. Bakugou somehow even bullshitted that Kirishima would want The Rock to play him in a movie. The girls stood absolutely no chance.

“This is so unfair,” Mina whined as she reluctantly she handed over her cellphone to Bakugou after they’d completed recording. He cackled, and Kirishima swears on whatever god was out there, skipped into the kitchen. Uraraka pouted and held her phone out to Kirishima. He gave her a half-smile, pretending to be sorry, but secretly thrilled to take revenge on someone who’d been plotting his demise since she’d stepped foot in his home.

“Be kind to me.” Uraraka batted her eyes.

“No promises.”

Mina screamed from the other room and they both went wide-eyed, sprinting into the kitchen. Mina was lying on the floor dramatically with her cellphone clutched to her chest while Bakugou sat at the counter laughing. A genuine full-bodied laugh. Kirishima swore his heart stopped.

“Kirishima!” Mina sat up and pointed at Bakugou. “I want him out of this house. He’s never allowed here again. Banned I say! Ban him for life!”

“Well,” Kirishima smiled at Bakugou who was still having a hard time containing his laughter. “It’s my house… so… no?”

She stood and stomped passed him towards Sero and Kaminari while mumbling about how useless he was. Kirishima rolled his eyes and went to sit next to Bakugou at the counter.

“What’d you do?”

Bakugou smiled at him and again Kirishima felt himself go through the beginnings of a heart attack. Maybe he should be more careful around this guy. “Check out her Twitter.”

Kirishima took out his phone and pulled up Mina’s account. He couldn’t contain himself and he burst out laughing too, covering his mouth with his hand.

Alien Queen: Omg guys. I knew my vibes were off!?!? I’m like totally freaking out. It normally doesn’t look like this should I like call 911??? L

Attached to this tweet was a picture of a toilet with a bright green poop floating in it. Kirishima looked at Bakugou who was just smiling proudly. He’d never thought Bakugou capable of something like this. This Bakugou, the one in front of him, was a million times better than the idealized one he’d created in his head.

“Have you done Round Face’s, yet?”

“Oh.” Kirishima pulled out Uraraka’s phone. Bakugou took it and quickly entered the password before handing it back to him. “I’ll just do this.”

Kirishima commented on Bakugou’s post. ‘This happened to me last week. I feel you. Solidarity in numbers, babe. Keep me updated.’

Bakugou started to cackle again and Kirishima smiled. Then Bakugou tried to reach for Kirishima’s actual phone and he instinctively pulled it away. “Whoa, I didn’t lose. If anything, I carried.”

Bakugou snorted and just motioned for Kirishima to hand it over. He scrunched up his nose but unlocked the screen and gave it to Bakugou. Bakugou raised a quick brow at Kirishima’s sexy rock background but shook it off and started punching in a number, then Bakugou’s phone started ringing. When Kirishima realized what was happening he took a shaky breath.

Where was one of his dumb friends when he needed them?

They were all respectfully hanging out in the living room while he flirted with someone in the kitchen. When have they ever not meddled in a situation that didn’t need meddling? This is an opportune time for Kaminari to do something stupid or Mina to think he needs help.

Hello?

Bakugou set Kirishima’s phone on the counter next to him and it vibrated. A new message from an unknown number.

“For whatever.” Bakugou shrugged. “Collabs and shit.”

“Right.” Kirishima smiled softly. “Collabs and shit.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but a small smile forced its way onto his face.

“Hey!” Sero shouted. “We’re playing Smash. You guys in or what?”

Bakugou’s eyes immediately lit up and he whipped his head towards the living room. “Fuck yeah, I’m in.” He hopped off the stool and looked at Kirishima expectantly. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

Boy was he.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard.” Kirishima stretched his arms. “I’m kind of the Smash Bros god of this house.”

“Not for long.” Bakugou left the kitchen, hopping onto one of the couches and swiping Uraraka’s Switch controller. She whined and swatted at him, starting another argument between the two. Kirishima rolled his eyes and clutched his phone tightly before placing it in his pocket.

He was very excited about the possible ‘collabs and shit’ this contact may lead to. Until then, he grabbed a controller from Kaminari and selected his main man Luigi. He had a title to defend.

#kiribaku #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bnha #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #fanfic #lmao i promise i won't abandon this fic #i love it too much #and i love them too much #:)#youtube au #clickbait #bakugou x kirishima #kiribaku fic #kiribaku fanfic

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years ago

Text

For Science 5/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!JK

Word Count: 17.5k haha wtf (NSFW)

Warnings/Themes: omg okay swearing, Boobies, graphic-ish Cunnilingus, endangement of Hoseok’s chin, Spit :/, Masturbation, mentions of porn haha, Making out, (Hoseok’s) male gaze??? Idiot!Kook, Jealous!Kook, Violence? (lmao it was very mild violence and mention of blood but not graphic), gratuitous use of soap-opera level drama

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I’m tagging @m-icdrop , @jiminslye , @ephemeral-mindset, @sugarandpoppy, @monstar95, @sweetestkth, @limitlesxxsxx, @simplyfinessin, @park-geemin to let you know that this is here! If any of you would like to stop being tagged with each FS update, let me know. And if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, also let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7

Being a good friend, as you’re realizing now, is so terribly hard and you wish someone had told you earlier in life so you could make the informed choice of becoming a nun. Or maybe just a plain old hermit.

Either way, waking up in the middle of Yoori’s bedroom finds you feeling less rested than you would have liked. Probably because you dreamt that you had been transfigured into a dog by Hoseok wearing a witch’s costume and forced to be the family pet to Yoori and Jungkook’s 16 children. You end up waking with a jolt, still in Yoori’s bed and covered in cold sweat, wanting nothing more than to go home and leave everything at school behind.

Still, you soldier through the rest of the night, staring at your laptop instead of doing work, only eating half of the pizza she ordered for you and numbly carrying a large Tupperware container that held the leftovers back to your apartment.

You end up eating the pizza for breakfast the following morning in some meagre effort to comfort yourself. Nothing helps, though. Not using the special body wash that you usually reserved for special occasions. Not putting on the velvet joggers you wore when you needed a pick-me-up. So, you try going in the opposite direction. Instead of putting in extra effort, you put in zero. You don’t bother stressing about putting your hair into an intricate style so you’ll look more put together. You don’t bother trying to buff your skin to a shining, baby glow. Instead you slather your face in moisturizer and throw your hair into a bun, which seems to do the trick. Giving up on some of the tinier details that would often gnaw at the edges of your collectedness improves your mood slightly. So does taking the rest of the pizza in with you for lunch.

The universe takes pity on you and the day goes by quickly. On Friday, It feels almost as though you only blinked but now the sun was setting around 4:30, as had become habit.

You wipe the drool that was pooling at the corner of your mouth while you tried some old number theory problem sets from a class you took freshman year. It had been difficult because you’d forgotten how shitty proofs can be, but it had also been just the time sink you needed.

Coming to the usual study spot you and Yoori established a few hours prior was bittersweet. Normally she would be there, perhaps with a steaming mug of something calming waiting for you, ready to work in companionable silence with gossip breaks sprinkled in between. Today, she wasn’t there, so you had the whole table to yourself. You sit in her chair to throw some novelty into the mix. And because you miss her. But now that your momentum is broken, you decide to turn to the window instead of people watching. Even though there’s none of the softly falling snow Yoori always raves about, the view is still nice.

The last few rays of the winter sun are stretching out, leaving the campus bathed in blood orange light and catching the reflective parts of the packed snow on the ground. There’s something picturesque about the way the campus pond, now frozen, sits in the center of the landscape and frames the sheet of mountains running in the distance. But it feels very lonely as well.

You check your phone and find no text messages from Jungkook and only one from Yoori asking if you have plans for Saturday night. You tell her no and begin packing up.

Normally, you’re not a big going out person, but you find your lack of plans for this weekend a little bothersome. You know Jungkook and Yoori will obviously be busy that evening, and perhaps even the whole weekend. But that leaves you with Taehyung and Hoseok to have a good time and the prospects for that seem weak. You try sending a text to the two of them asking if a bar sounded like a fun idea but Hoseok messages back that he already bought drinks for tonight. You suppose you’ll have to try again next weekend.

Taehyung’s words of assurance about how Jungkook suddenly getting a girlfriend wouldn’t change the group dynamic float into you’re head. But you’re not so sure you believe them in this moment. Things don’t seem as fun and you’re not sure if it’s just because you’ve spent the whole day moping or if it’s because Jungkook has been carrying the group dynamic on his back the whole time and you never even noticed until now.

It’s a frightening thought and it’s also a little unfair to Hoseok and Taehyung. Although you’re not as close to them as you are to Jungkook, it’s not like they’re strangers. You’ve spent a great deal of time on your own with both of them, and even though you fight with Hoseok from time to time, you have made some nice memories with the both of them.

As you walk to Taehyung’s apartment for game night, you’re reminded of the times you’ve spent with the both of them. Like when you needed to fulfill your PE requirement for the year, so you and Hoseok took a snowboarding class together. You can admit, albeit reluctantly, that you bonded over many nights of numb toes and icing each other’s injuries. There’s also the time that you and Taehyung thought learning Russian would be a fun idea. You ended up leaving the Russian club after the first weekly meeting, but Taehyung still goes and is now the club Treasurer. It had been a fun hour of your life, though.

“Hey,” Taehyung chirps when you finally arrive at his apartment.

“Hey!” You fling yourself at him, full of emotion from the walk down memory lane you just took. He’s stiff in your arms for a moment, but settles into the hug after a beat.

“What’s this all about?” He chuckles, patting your back affectionately.

You extricate yourself from him and drop your things at the doorway before turning to Hoseok with a determined look. He snorts at you but doesn’t try to hide from your grabby hands, much to your surprise.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m really glad we’re all friends. You mean a lot to me,” you mumble into the collar of Hoseok’s shirt as you press wrap him in a sincere hug.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

“Except you,” you push him off you roughly. “Not you. I don’t like you.”

“Aw, come on!” He grins wryly at you from the floor. “You know you like me.”

You make a show of brushing the residue of your hug off the thin and oversized sweater you’re wearing. “No, sorry. I was a different person 20 seconds ago. I’ve changed. I’m better now.”

Hoseok hops up and chases you around Taehyung’s tiny dining room table until he manages to trap you in a corner by the kitchen entrance and wrangle you into a bear hug. You play dead to deter him, but instead he just laughs at the limp way your feet drag on the floor and waddles with you still in his grasp to the living room. Taehyung looks for the right game to play.

He chooses Wii Resort, which is not even remotely close to being your favorite, so you sit out and let the third controller lay unused on the ground. Instead you find yourself seated with your back against Hoseok’s chest in the La-Z boy, feet stretched out to rest in Taehyung’s lap as he sits on the matching ottoman.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you whine.

“I told you to wear layers. I’m trying to lower my utility bill,” is all Taehyung says as he moves his mii into yet another jungle setting for a mini game.

You pout. “This sucks.”

“It really doesn’t,” Hoseok interjects, “This is one of the better game nights we’ve had in a while.”

“You’re just saying that because this is the only time you’ve been able to win at a game.”

“Be nice to Hobi.” One of Taehyung’s hands drop down to dig into the arch of your foot as a warning. You squeal, knee kicking out wildly and without your permission, forcing your head to crack back against Hoseok’s chin.

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you, Tae?” Hoseok reaches up to clutch at his face, controller falling into your lap.

“Dude, I was defending you! How is this my fault?”

“You know it’s against the rules to tickle her when another person’s nearby unless it’s a tag-team.” He whines and taps you on the shoulder. You turn to face him sheepishly, knowing it’s partially your fault too. “Am I bleeding?”

“Thankfully, no,” you coo after a careful inspection. “But if that were any higher up on my leg, I don’t think you’d still have a face.”

“I know.”

You pat his hair soothingly, but turn back around soon after Hoseok stops cradling his face. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“We can’t! I’m not even buzzed yet. And we haven’t gone all the way around the board.”

“Tae, this game is trash. I don’t want to just sit and watch.”

He waves a hand dismissively, unpausing the game without even looking at you. “It’s not my fault you’re a fake Nintendo fan.”

“Ooh, are you gonna take that,” Hoseok’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s comment.

“I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response,” you sniff. Reaching out, you grab at the closest, non-empty beer bottle you can reach and take a swig. “But I am gonna get going so you can enjoy your shitty game by yourselves.”

“Come on!” Hoseok whines again from above you and from your vantage point it looks like his face is starting to swell. You silently hope that it doesn’t get bad until after you leave. “You can’t leave. Then it’ll just be two guys playing Wii resort.”

“Arriving in 13 minutes.” You burrow further into his chest to steal some warmth for a minute. You vow that the first thing you’re doing once you get home is taking a hot shower.

“Let her go, Hob. She’s not cool like us.”

Taehyung’s Mii reaches the top of the mountain at that moment. The victory cry he releases is entirely too loud and definitely not appropriate for someone only playing Wii Resort. He gets up from his chair and starts gyrating at the TV where Hoseok’s mii is crying large blue tears.

“Congrats on your victory. I’m out.”

The ride home turns out to be less relieving and more depressing as you get closer and closer to your apartment. Jungkook and Yoori are probably somewhere having an amazing date and will probably then go have amazing virginal sex in the backseat of Hoseok’s frat brothers’ car that Jungkook borrowed for the occasion. Taehyung and Hoseok actually like Wii Resort and will probably spend the rest of the night getting drunk off their asses playing that and having more fun than is objectively reasonable. Meanwhile you will probably stand naked and shivering in your bathroom for, like, 8 whole minutes waiting for hot water to make it through your plumbing.

Nothing like depressing thoughts to start your weekend off well.

Perhaps the universe decided to take pity on you once again because when you get home and disrobe, you only have to wait 6 minutes for the hot water. And it doesn’t run out after another 5. You also let yourself sing loudly to your Spotify ballad playlist titled ‘lady heartbreak’. Normally, you only cry to that playlist, so you think of it as personal growth.

Once you’re out the shower and your voice is hoarse from the ‘singing’, you change into light pajamas. Despite the fact that your heater is fixed, you still keep it firing at almost full blast because you prefer the heat to the cold.

Before you can flip back the covers on your bed when you hear a loud knock on your door. You figure its either Taehyung or Hoseok, or both of them, looking for something to do now that the game has lost its charm after a million rounds. But a quick glance at your phone shows no text messages from them saying that they’d be stopping by, which they usually do. The door thumps like someone’s body is slamming against it and you pray that its one of your stupid friends just being inconsiderate and disorderly.

You’re about to leave your room to see who’s at your door when another loud sound startles you. Its as if someone is carefully trying to rattle the window leading to your fire escape. All the while the loud knocking at your front door continues to ring through the apartment. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re certain you saw a news special about something like this. Pairs of burglars come to innocent women’s houses after they’ve stalked them long enough to learn their schedule and see if they live alone. Then they both show up to the house at different spots to distract the victim and break in more efficiently.

In this scenario, you’re certain they’re expecting you to go to the front door. But you’re smart, dammit. You decide to give them a surprise and approach the window first instead, phone clutched in your hand with the police a button-press away. You yank back the curtains and quickly activate your flashlight mode to see who is trying to break into your house. The pair of wide eyes that greet you back almost make your drop your phone.

“Jungkook,” you hiss incredulously.

Carefully, you unlock your window and slide it up so he can climb off the fire escape and collapse face first into your room. Clearly, he is slightly inebriated.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shh,” he sticks a finger into your face, “She’ll hear you.”

“Who’ll hear me?”

The apartment is eerily quiet when you realize that the loud knocking is replaced by jingling of keys and the sound of the front door being pushed open.

“Jeon Jungkook, who the hell is that in my house?”

“It’s Yoori,” he whispers with genuine fear in his eyes. “Crap!”

You can’t do much besides react on auto-pilot and pull back the many blankets and comforters lining your bed for him to dive under. The sound of Yoori’s slow, stumbling footsteps as they make their way into the heart of the apartment are better than any horror movie soundtrack. You find yourself diving into bed too, knees bent, hoping that you look casual and can hide Jungkook’s shape. He pokes his head out and grins at you from the shadows between your bare knees.

“Is anyone home,” Yoori calls from somewhere in the living room.

“I’m in my bedroom,” you respond. “It’s the last door on the right in the hallway.

A few moments later, Yoori is peering curiously from behind your door. You realize she still hasn’t seen your room despite the fact that she’s been to your apartment in passing a couple of times now.

“Hey, Yoori.”

“Hey. Wow,” she hiccups, “This is very you. I like the tapestries.” She turns in a circle to take in all of your room’s décor.

“Yep. So, uh, what brings you here?”

“I asked Jungkookie to drop me off here.”

“Oh, you did? Where is Jungkookie now,” you ask neutrally before casting a brief but discrete annoyed look down at Jungkook’s semi-visible face under the covers.

“I think he’s probably filling up the car’s tank. He has to return it to the fraternity before it gets too late.”

“He didn’t want to come in with you?”

“No. I told him I wanted to have some girl time with you to talk about the date. But then I got to your door and remembered that you don’t like to talk about romantic stuff like that.”

You shove your hands down into your lap and over his face so he can’t see the way yours heats up in embarrassment.

“W-well that’s just because he’s my good friend, you know. I didn’t mean much by that.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” She smiles down at you sleepily before walking over and moving like she’s going to sit with you in bed.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shoot your hands out to keep her sitting.

“Why not?”

She pouts softly down at you. You wince knowing that her feet probably hurt from a night in heels and all she wants to do is sit to rest. But your loyalty lies elsewhere at the moment.

“Because…I have no pants on.”

“Really?” She grins and peeks down like she hopes to see through the blanket covering your lap. “That’s okay with me. You probably don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. And if you did, who cares?”

You decide that you won’t probe her about that and instead redirect the conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m kind of shy when it comes to that stuff.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” Yoori sighs sadly. “Maybe one day we’ll get there. That should be our next friendship goal. Getting you to feel less shy around me.”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

You watch as she swings her heels tiredly in her hand and searches for a nearby cab. She finds one relatively quickly and gives you a one-armed hug around your shoulders before scooping heading out. You wait a few more minutes, just in case she magically returns for something she left behind despite the fact that she left the spare key on your bedside desk and the front door locks from the inside automatically. Once you’re certain you won’t be found out, you rip the sheets back angrily.

“Explain yourself quickly, Jeon.”

Jungkook squints up at you now that the dark cover of your blankets isn’t shielding his eyes anymore. He’s lying on his stomach between your bent legs, propped up on his elbows. It’s a compromising position that you’re glad Yoori didn’t catch you in.

“I told her I needed to fill the tank, but I told her I was doing it at the gas station on 5th street instead of the one across the street from here.” He grins up at your cheekily like he’s done something extra clever.

“Yeah, I figured as much. But why did you do that? And then why did you risk falling 20 feet to climb up the fire escape and come in through the window.”

“I wanted to hang out. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while.” His hand reaches out to stroke at the expanse of your bare thigh.

“Jungkook, you’re dating Yoori,” you sigh and move your leg away. “The weekend stays are over now.”

“We’re taking it slow, though.”

“Not slow enough for this to still be a thing.”

“It is slow enough.” At your raised eyebrows, he stammers. “We-we haven’t even held hands yet.”

“Really,” you can’t help but ask. The pang of satisfaction you feel knowing that Jungkook still hasn’t taken things further with Yoori makes you feel a bit guilty. But you can’t help it.

“Really. So we can still do this, right?”

“I don’t know, Kook.” Your lip ends up tucked between your teeth in indecisiveness.

“Please? I missed you,” he whispers quietly. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear from him and you give a quick nod lest you start shrieking from joy if you open your mouth.

He shuffles until he can pull you closer by the hips. When you’re on a slight incline, your multiple pillows holding you up, Jungkook removes his glasses. You watch silently as he places them next to the spare keys before leaning into your space, eyes dropping closed.

You let your jaw relax in anticipation of his mouth. But you’re surprised when the first thing you feel is the dry press of his lips to your cheek. It’s sweeter than you were expecting, but you’re not complaining. Eventually he makes his way over to your mouth and begins kissing you in earnest. Small pecks transform into languid caresses of his lips over yours. Your tongue comes out to swipe at the seam of his lips and he immediately opens up to let you in, groaning at the feeling of you in his mouth.

He lets a sharp breath leave his nose and surges forward, pressing himself to you as close as he can after having shuffled you even closer so he could lean over you. When you suck on his bottom lip, he lets out a low snarling sound. His hands come down to clamp onto your waist like a warm vice. Carefully, you entangle the fingers of one hand in his hair, while the other smooths down the curve of his broad shoulders. The feeling of the muscles in his back flexing under your hand is a feeling you didn’t realize you could take for granted. But somehow you have because its amazing to have it back.

The two of you make out for a while. Jungkook tastes of dessert wine and cheesecake. Its not necessarily a combination that you find unpleasant, but it reminds you that he just came back from a date. And while he left that date and came straight to you, you still don’t like it. You kiss him harder with the hopes that it’ll take away the remnants of his time out with another girl. A girl who is your friend. He whines and lets you ravage his mouth. Little do you know that each swipe of your tongue against his own has his growing harder in his slacks.

“Wait a minute,” he gasps against your mouth before slowing down a bit by planting small kisses on the hinge of your jaw and the soft skin of your throat.

“Too fast?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles bashfully.

You’re content to let him come back down from his fast-approaching high by sucking lightly on the skin near the collar of your white tshirt. There will probably be some light bruising that you’ll have to cover up if you’re still going out with Yoori tomorrow, but you don’t care about that right now. Instead you’d rather revel in the sensation of Jungkook’s traveling kisses. Though they started at the hollow of your throat, they’ve collected on your clavicle and he’s now trailing them over the fabric of your shirt by your sternum. It’s sweet.

And then its suddenly not so sweet as you feel his heated breaths puff over your nipple.

Obviously, you’re turned on and you’re not wearing a bra because you thought you were going straight to sleep. So its completely understandable why your nipples would be hard, then. What you’re not certain of is what Jungkook is planning. He’s no longer continuously pressing kisses into the shirt and is now sporadically planting them around the stiff peak that is raising your shirt material slightly, just breathing heavily over it. The heat you feel doesn’t do anything to calm you down and instead it has you squirming in his hold.

One of his hands comes up to rest some of his weight on your shoulder, effectively keeping you flat to the bed. A quick glance at him has your breath hitching loudly in your throat. He’s staring intently down at your breast, like he’s trying to make a tough choice. The moment is so thick that you don’t dare move. Not to encourage him nor to inquire what he plans. Instead you lay with bated breath, watching him slowly descend the last few inches. You squeeze your eyes shut milliseconds before his mouth envelopes your covered nipple.

“Oh shit,” you curse quietly.

Despite the thin cotton barrier, you can feel very clearly the hot, wet pressure of his tongue swirling around your nipple. All of the movements so far are experimental, hesitant in their rhythm. He hollows his cheeks softly and sucks and all of the sudden a long, drawn out moan leaves you. It gives him the confidence he needs to take his free hand and pinch at the other side, fingers mimicking the rhythm his mouth is setting over you.

Quickly, though, the shirt becomes unbearable and you get annoyed at the thought that such a stupid barrier exists between you and Jungkook’s mouth. You wriggle resolutely under him until he huffs in annoyance and pulls away to see why you’re interrupting him. When he sees that you’re merely hiking the shirt’s hem up to your armpits and exposing your breasts to him, he hums contentedly. He swoops back in, this time to the other side, and begins laving at the tightened bud. Your hands scrabble for purchase and eventually make their way back to his neck again.

“Jungkook,” you breathe raggedly into the crown of his head.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the—mmh fuck—the occasion for all this?”

He comes up with a slick popping sound, looking up at you with dark and hooded eyes. The sight sends a bolt of arousal to your core.

“Just been wanting to.” With that, he returns to making a mess of your chest.

Somehow, in the series of achingly long minutes that follow, you manage to get his button down and undershirt off. The sight of the smooth planes of his skin make your hands itch to feel him. You try to pull him up so you can have better access, but he won’t budge as he begins to kiss lower once both of your breasts have been thoroughly marked. You give up and try to predict what he’ll do next as he digs his fingers into your waist appreciatively and kisses a ring around your belly button.

He proceeds lower, his destination becoming increasingly obvious as he playfully flicks at the tiny ribbon decorating the front of your panties before halting. Tentatively, he pushes an index finger underneath the elastic lining where your thigh meets groin. You can feel what you suppose is the puff of his breath across the crotch of your panties.

“Can I—”

“No,” you blurt, legs snapping closed. Jungkook scoots back just at the right time to save his head from being crushed. “S-sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Do you just…not like it?”

“I’ve actually, uh, never…” you trail off until the words are lost in the mounds of pillows surrounding your head.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never really had anyone go down on me before.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up behind his slightly damp bangs. “Not even with Yugyeom?”

You wince at the mention of your ex. Yugyeom had been your first and only boyfriend and you had a good run and even what most would call an amicable breakup. But one of the more bitter moments was the one time you’d attempted to get him to go down on you only for him to wrinkle his nose and tell you ‘he wasn’t into that sort of thing’.

“He just wasn’t interested.”

Jungkook nods understandingly for a minute before his gaze is drawn to the space at the apex of your clenched thighs again.

“Are you? Interested?” His tone is heavy with implication and the way he casually hovers over you while sitting back on his heels just makes you feel tiny.

“I-I mean, I guess I am,” you stutter.

“Okay.” He gets back onto his stomach, hands gently prying your knees apart until there’s enough room to accommodate his broad shoulders. “So can I?”

“Go for it.” Your words come out in a squeak.

“Thanks,” he smiles softly.

You can’t see anything because you’ve thrown an arm over your eyes self-consciously. Normally, these moments between the two of you have your stomach in knots for a different reason, but now you’re just plain nervous. You’re diligent about hygiene and you remind yourself that you just took a shower. But it had just been a normal shower and not a booty-call shower. What if he thought you smelled weird? Or that you tasted weird? For some reason, this felt more intimate than all the times before this where he was merely watching and you were the one doing the work down there.

Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down with your help when you lift your butt. You bite your lip nervously and lift your arm slightly so you can watch his reaction.

He doesn’t have any sort of adverse reaction once you’re completely bare in front of him, though you suppose he’s familiar enough not to act surprised by anything. But you’re not expecting him to dive in suddenly until he’s less than an inch away from your sticky folds. You shouldn’t be embarrassed that you got turned on from making out, but it’s like everything has flipped and suddenly you know how he felt during those first few times together.

You can’t take the silence anymore. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so quiet.”

“I’m just trying to decide what to do first.”

“Oh. Sorry I can’t be of service.”

He smiles at how awkward you’re being before moving a tiny bit closer and taking a large inhale. Your eyes widen and you move to clamp your legs closed to shut him out, but he’s ready this time. One hand presses down on your pelvis while the other one presses on your hip, effectively pinning you to the bed.

“Calm down. It’s just me,” he whispers before inhaling deeply once. Twice. Three times more. All the while you can’t help but squirm. But he only increases the pressure of his hands with each antsy wiggle of your hips.

As soon as you decide to be still again, he releases your hip to spread you open with two fingers and presses a gentle kiss to your clit. You nearly jump off the bed at the foreign sensation.

“Jungkook, wait, I—” but you don’t manage to get the words out before he kisses you again.

This time his tongue flicks out to collect some of arousal that’s been steadily collecting despite your nerves. As soon as the flavor spreads on his tongue, he freezes. You wonder for a moment if he’s going to pull back and say he’s made a mistake. But then he surges forward again and begins licking broad stripes across you, catching your clit every so often.

He watches you carefully to gauge your reactions to what he’s doing. Taking in your heated face and dewy skin, he deduces he’s going in the right direction. And when he drags the flat of his tongue over your entrance as if to drink from you, your lip automatically gets stuck between your teeth and your eyes flutter shut. It’s a good series of reactions, but he wants more from you. He wants to get you to do that thing where your back curves up off the mattress or get your hands to scrabble at his arms to ground you while you shake under him.

“Oh god. Right there,” you gasp when he wraps his lips around your clit randomly and sucks.

Jungkook nods resolutely before re-wetting his lips and repeating the action. You moan loudly when his tongue brushes against you in the midst of the suction. Your hand finds its way to the back of his head and presses until the lower half of his face is almost entirely flush with you. You remove your hand almost immediately once you realize what you’re doing.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I got carried away.”

He pulls back with a wide grin and shining cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s good to know its going well.”

Your hand falls back down to rest tentatively near his head. You watch the shining brown mop of his hair return to bobbing between your legs and feel another rush of arousal gush forth. Even if you couldn’t feel it, Jungkook’s following groan of pleasant surprise and the wet sounds that follow have your eyes rolling to the ceiling partly out of acute pleasure and partly out of disbelief. Why couldn’t your life always be this nice and worry-free?

Jungkook’s gently circling fingers around your entrance have you snapping back to the present. You wonder if tonight is going to continue being a night of firsts when you remember that Jungkook probably hasn’t done much ‘internal’ work.

“Would it be too much?” Even though he doesn’t specify, you know what he’s asking.

“Just go slow.”

You’re already quickly approaching an orgasm, but hopefully this will get you there quicker. You feel almost sluggish with the fiery heat that’s seemingly been spreading from your core to the rest of your body in time with each pulse of his tongue. But when he inserts the first finger, you feel impossibly warmer.

His jaw drops open as your warm heat envelopes his digit immediately in a wet, vice-like grip. He can only imagine what it would feel like if he could be inside you the way he wanted to be, but even that pale phantom grip in the back of his mind is enough to have him bucking into the mattress. He leans in to press lingering kisses to your lower lips while twisting his wrist in matching time. Soon you’re clutching at his shoulders, gripping his hair, kicking your feet anxiously as your high approaches. You can almost taste it and stars are collecting in the corners of your vision as Jungkook continues to lap at your center messily. As if he can read your mind, he withdraws only to enter again with two fingers this time. It’s just enough thickness to stretch you the way you want, but the angle is off.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm?”

“Bend your fingers back and press up.”

“Like this,” he asks while making some motion, concentration creasing his brows.

You quickly reach down and re-orient his wrist. With great care, he reproduces the motions at the new angle and delights in the fact that you’re now quaking above him. Broken variations of his name tumble from your lips as the waves of your orgasm take over. Your legs kicks out as they characteristically do and so he positions them to hang more safely over his shoulders, despite the fact that your ankles tickle at his sides. He presses a chaste kiss against the skin of your inner thigh and hopes you don’t notice the way he nuzzles into the skin to wipe his face off a bit.

When you’re limp and your breathing has returned back to normal, he crawls over your legs to lay beside you.

“Was that good?”

You turn to face him and take in his sweaty face and pleased expression. You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, but he just grabs your hand and squeezes it before releasing it.

“It was good. But don’t get a big head, you still have to climb back out the window later.”

“Am I banned from the door?”

“I’m still mad you decided it would be a good idea to climb the fire escape when you’d clearly been drinking.”

“Not a lot, though. I was still able to drive.”

“That’s not something you should advertise,” you laugh.

He shifts a little awkwardly next to you and you realize he might not have gotten the same thing you did from eating you out. He notices where your gaze travels and grins shyly, shoving a spare throw pillow over the tent in his slacks.

“Ah, sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just wish I wasn’t so tired. Otherwise, I could—”

“Don’t feel like you have to. I was just gonna take care of it myself.”

“Oh. Like, right now?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

You sit back and watch as he slowly shirks off his dress pants and briefs in one go. His erection springs forward and from the almost angry red flush across the shaft, you figure he must have been pretty uncomfortable. He strokes it absent-mindedly and realizes that he doesn’t have any lube before turning to you.

“You wanna do the honors,” he asks with his palm out. It takes you a while to understand what he’s asking.

“Like, you want me to…?”

“Yeah.”

With all your remaining energy, you attempt to spit into his palm in an attractive manner. You’re not sure if you succeed, because as soon as you’re done he gets to business. The way he moves his hand over his length is rough and fast. Almost as if he’s trying to play catch up; not necessarily with you, but maybe with himself. With whatever thoughts had been plaguing him earlier while you came on his fingers and tongue. His breath leaves him in little punched gasps and the sounds are so pleasing that you lean forward and capture his lips with your own.

You wouldn’t quite call what you’re doing kissing. It’s more like a series of brushes of lips as his erratic hand movements cause him to move in and out of your space. Though he occasionally stops to steal a few kisses, they only seem to egg him on further until he can only touch his forehead to yours while he brings himself over the edge, spilling into his hand.

“Better?” You pull away to grab some wet wipes out of the side table drawer.

“Definitely,” he sighs. “I can put these sheets in the wash before I go, if you want.”

“Oh,” you blink up at him. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I have to get some sleep. I promised Yoori I’d take her to breakfast at Dreamies.”

“Wow. You’re taking her to Dreamies? Are you sure you’re not more serious than you’ve been letting on?”

“It’s not like that,” he laughs stiffly as he tugs on his clothes. “We’re getting food to-go and then going to a butterfly garden.”

“Well, that sounds fun too.”

You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Dreamies is the diner you and the rest of the group frequent when you’ve all done too much drinking the night before and need good hangover food. It’s also open 24 hours, so sometimes it’s where you all go when you have nothing better to do or when you just want to have a wholesome time. A lot of good memories have been made in Dreamies, but its always been with the whole group. The idea of Jungkook bringing Yoori there for a private date doesn’t exactly sit well with you. Though it’s not like you can say anything because no one ever did establish that Dreamies was a group space exclusively. And even if someone had, who are you to make demands about where Jungkook and Yoori go out on dates?

Jungkook makes good on his promise and puts your sheets in the wash and even makes your bed while you wait for the washer to stop. He leaves when the dryer cycle finishes, pulling you in by the waist and kissing you deeply before strutting out the door with a flourish.

“I come bearing clothes,” you say as soon as Yoori opens the door.

She’d told you over the phone to bring some things to go out in after bugging you about firming up weekend plans. It still isn’t clear where you’re going, so you have brought a variety of outfits to cover the spectrum of possible events. You figured that you would get ready at her place as soon as you found out where you were going. But when she opens the door with makeup already done and her hair already curled, you’re a bit confused.

“Hello! How are you, my lovely?” She envelopes you tightly in a hug before taking the clothes out of your hands.

“I’m great. I got all excited on the way over because I thought we were gonna glam up together here, but it looks like you already did that.”

“I know,” she grimaces. “It’s just that Jungkook asked me if I wanted to go to the arcade out of the blue after we got brunch and I didn’t know what type of atmosphere that might be, so I just got as ready as possible. And then we went on a drive. We didn’t actually interact with any other humans. I could have worn my PJs.”

“That’s Jungkook for you,” you snort dryly. “So, uh, how was that drive?”

“You don’t have to ask me how our date went. I know it’s awkward to talk about dating your best friend. I’ll spare you.”

“Thank you.”

Yoori hands you a glass of your favorite wine, something she’s been keeping regularly stocked in her wine fridge since you became friends. You toe off your shoes before heading into the living room with her.

“Do you want tonight to be a surprise or do you want me to tell you where we’re going?” She reaches out to play with a loose string on the throw blanket adorning the couch, watching you with wide eyes as you drain your glass.

“Tell me. So I can pick out my outfit accordingly.”

“Okay. Just…promise me you won’t knock it before you try it.”

“I wouldn’t do that unless you said we were going somewhere ridiculous.” You tilt your head with a no nonsense stare. “And we wouldn’t do that, right? We’re not doing anything ridiculous?”

All she does is beam at you before pulling her phone out and scrolling through her photo album until she comes to the right image. She hands you the phone silently, lip bitten in anticipation.

“Hell no,” you say as soon as you see the flyer she’s taken a screenshot of. It’s advertising a Lady’s Night at a club with an open dance floor and drinks at a discounted rate. Immediately you hand the phone back and wish for more wine to magically appear in your glass.

“Please? I feel like it would be so fun, and it’s supposed to be a really great place. Pretty please?”

“Why can’t we just stay in and order Thai? I like your place, you don’t have to take me anywhere.”

“You make us sound like an old married couple. Besides, you never spend your weekends anywhere other than with those boys.” When you give her an unamused stare, she backpedals. “Charming as they are. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all. But don’t you think it would be fun to switch things up? Neither of us go out enough. We’re wasting our youth and beauty.”

“Excuse me. You’re dating my best friend, remember?”

“And by ‘we’, I meant not me.”

You roll your eyes and opt into searching for the wine bottle she used to pour your first drink. It catches your eye across the room where it sits at the long cherry dining table. You move to get up, but Yoori clamps down on your wrist with a pleading expression.

“Please?”

“I don’t want to spend the money.”

“I’ll pay for both our cover charges. Please?”

“The drinks will be shitty and I’ll need to be drunk to enjoy it.”

“We can drink here first and call a cab. Please?”

“I didn’t bring any makeup.”

“You left some over here from last time. Pleeease?”

“But the guys there will—“

“I’ll protect you,” you frown, unconvinced. “Please? I’ll even stay sober the whole night so nothing gets by me.”

“Fine. But only for an hour.”

“What? That’s too short, nothing good can happen in an hour. That’s too unrealistic. Two hours.”

“I’ll give you an hour and a half. After that, we’re coming back here and I’m sleeping over. Deal?”

She considers your conditions for a brief second before finally letting you get up. “You have to let me do your makeup and let me put pictures on my Instagram story.”

“Sure, but that will cost you another 15 minutes.”

Your back is turned to her as you fill up your glass, but you can practically see her writhing with indecision. Schooling your features into neutrality, you turn back to face her, and she straightens up.

“Deal.”

It takes much longer than it should have to get ready, but in the end, that’s a good thing because Yoori had originally wanted to show up to the event on time. Though you don’t get out much, even you know that arriving fashionably late means a better chance at getting there when everything is in full swing. Much better than getting there when there are 10 people in the whole club and no one is having any fun yet.

You let her apply your makeup, but you don��t let her pick your outfit much to Yoori’s chagrin. It doesn’t matter though because you’re no less miserable as she drags you into the bathroom to take a series of selfies.

That’s not to say that you hate selfies or that you never take them. You take them when you’re bored, when you’re texting the group chat, when you’re talking to your mom, when you’re home alone and feeling yourself. Next to Yoori, though, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. Yoori doesn’t know your angles, Yoori doesn’t know your favorite filters and it’s not something you can just ask someone to change. Specific filters and angles are the bread and butter of anyone’s best selfies, and they’re not easily interchanged for someone else’s. As an engineering student, you can appreciate the complex science that is selfie-taking. And as much as you love Yoori, you don’t want to be the eyesore on her Instagram and cost her followers. Part of you hopes she gets drunk so you can take her phone and delete them later.

But she stays true to her word and doesn’t drink any more after leaving the apartment to go to the club. You stay true to your word as well and toss back another drink as soon as you get there, hoping that it will calm your nerves. In all honesty, you know there’s nothing to be nervous about, but you still order a second drink at the bar immediately after so you have something to do with your hands. You look good and you most likely won’t see any of the people at the club ever again, but you still feel out of place.

“You look terrified,” Yoori whispers in your ear. She’s been watching your expression carefully the whole time and has started to regret bugging you about coming.

“I am.”

“If you want, we can just go home now. I didn’t realize you hated going out this much.”

“It’s not that I hate going out,” you shout over the music. “It’s just that I can never let go off what other people might be thinking about me. And if I can’t do that, I can’t have fun.”

Yoori nods in sympathy. Although, she also doesn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized, she knows you’re coming from a different place. You’ve spoken candidly to her a few times about you feel like the two of you make an odd pairing. She remembers the way you spoke about her, all laudatory words, and then how you spoke about yourself. Yoori wants to compliment you the way you do her, but she knows that certain kind words only act as cold comfort for you.

“What can I do?”

You ponder the question for a bit. You figure, if you can manage to fake having the time of your life for 10 minutes, you can trick yourself into actually having fun for the rest of the night. With that thought, you finish your drink in a few large swallows before grabbing Yoori’s hand.

“Do you wanna dance with me?”

Yoori blinks down at you with wide eyes but nods somewhat shyly. You let her guide you into the throng of dancing bodies. As the song washes over you, you do a simple two-step while you decide what type of vibe to go for. Quickly the song grows on you, and you begin to put more energy into your dancing. At the sight of you enthusiastically swiveling your hips to the beat of the song with a smile on your face, Yoori beams.

The night unfolds like that. You manage to throw away your inhibitions in favor of dancing for hours. Yoori takes a couple videos of you when the right song comes on and puts you into a sexy musical trance. You take turns shooing random guys away who thinking they can casually fist pump their way into your sacred space. A few girls much drunker than you wander over to you and you welcome them with open arms and dance with them for a few songs, but they always float away after a while. Not without Yoori inquiring where their friends are and waiting until said friends come to collect them first, though. All in all, it’s more fun than almost all of your game nights combined. The thought makes you guilty for all of .3 seconds before you remember that none of the guys would ever go out dancing unless it was a means to an end of getting laid.

When the clock strikes 1:30—much later than you had originally promised to stay out—you collect your things and let Yoori guide you once more. This time she leads you outside to get a ride back to her place. She lays her pristine white leather jacket on your sweaty shoulders when she sees you shivering from the drastic temperature change that comes with leaving the balmy dance-floor.

“Tonight was so fun,” you drawl on the way over. Your head lolls onto her shoulder and she smooths the stray strands of hair off your forehead.

“It was. I was worried for a minute that you wouldn’t like it.”

“Mmm, me too. Yoori, this was great.”

“You never say my name.” She gets out of the car first before paying the driver and then goes back in to get you, slinging your arm over her slender shoulders.

“I know. Feels weird if I do.”

“I like it.”

“M’kay.”

As soon as the door opens, you race for the bathroom. One of the prices to pay for a good night out is dealing with a wine bladder and a hangover. The peeing, you could handle. The hangover, though, dwells in the back of your mind ominously as you brush your teeth and hastily remove your makeup. You’re pretty sure you haven’t taken all of it off when your face hits the cushion of the couch, but the couch is leather so you don’t care. Yoori, however, does care.

“Oh, no you don’t. Come here,” she grabs at you until she gets a hold and can walk you the remainder of the way to her room.

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“You don’t want to sleep on the couch either.”

“Where we goin’?”

“To bed, silly.”

You nod and let her escort you there. Immediately, you slide your skirt down and scramble to take off your crop top. As you fumble with your sleep shirt, Yoori respectfully turns away to change into her own pajamas, cheeks burning.

The covers feel pleasantly cool under your hands as you wait for her to finish changing. “Which side d’you want?”

“I usually sleep in the middle, actually. But I can sleep on whichever side you don’t pick tonight.”

“I sleep on this side.”

“Okay,” she nods agreeably.

“Tomorrow, do you wanna get Dream—oh wait. You went already. You probably don’t want it a second time. I’ll just go to Starbucks or something on my way back.”

“N-no! I’d love to go tomorrow. I was hoping to try their waffles at some point, anyway.”

“Okay, great. Goodnight, Yoori.”

“Goodnight,” she says quietly after the lights have been turned off.

Emotionally, the following week is fine, but it’s hard on your body.

Your hangover takes over your whole Sunday, leaving you to slightly behind on work Monday. It creates a spiral of catching up on work that has you staying up further and further past your bedtime and unable to be as social as you’d like. Yoori lets you know via Snapchat that she misses you but that Jungkook has taken your spot at your usual study table. The two of them look adorable in the little puppy ear filter Yoori’s put over the short video. You watch with mixed feelings as Yoori blows a kiss and then remembers that Jungkook is there and ushers him into blowing a kiss as well. It’s not nearly as enthusiastic and stiffer than the one Yoori sent you but it still sends your heart into a fluttering tizzy.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough. But as soon as you wake up that morning, you feel jittery and off. All your warm clothes are in the hamper, none of them salvageable for one last wear. And all your motivation has been zapped after the week of constant working you just had. Classes prove to be no better despite the fact that they give you time to get out of your head.

The rest of the day is syrupy, leaving you struggling through it even as you try to go with the flow of the sluggishly passing hours. Normally you aim for productivity, but as soon as your final lecture for the day ends, you find yourself unable to pass time with work. You take a walk through campus and even venture all the way over to the theatre department, on the other side of the common grounds. You try to sit on the frosted benches looking out over the man-made pond students often frequent, but your joggers aren’t prepared for the extreme cold and you realize maybe familiarity, instead of novelty, is what will make the time pass by quicker.

You decide to text Taehyung. His schedule is something that you’ve come to passively memorize after weeks of the information casually floating through past conversations.

You: Im bored

BigBoi: Where r u I’ll pick u up

You: @ Seemond’s pond…

BigBoi: ???

Taehyung arrives not ten minutes later, cheeks flushed with exertion from hustling over. He’s also not at all dressed for the weather, but doesn’t look bothered by it either in his university hoodie and thick knitted scarf. His beaten sneakers crunch loudly on the thin layer of white that’s collected since the last snowfall a few days ago.

“Oh my god, Tae, aren’t you freezing?”

Immediately you approach him and pull the hood laying limply along his shoulder blades over his colored hair. The roots have since started growing in and the color has faded enough to give him more of a coppery rose gold look. It’s a color so many Instagram influencers would have shit themselves over last summer trying to perfect at a professional salon, and here Taehyung stands with it after a bleach-happy accident in his dorm’s communal bathroom sink.

“Not really. I was actually nearby looking for a printer in BPD hall.”

“What for?”

“Financial aid forms,” he sighs. You grimace in sympathy before shirking your oversized black mittens.

“At least put these on if you’re not even going to pretend you checked the weather this morning.”

“What about you?” He gestures to the parts of your bare hands that he can see poking out from the sleeves of your own large puffy jacket.

“I’ll be fine. This has fleece-lined pockets. Meanwhile,” bending over, you peer into the front tummy pocket of his hoodie. “You only have a tootsie roll lining.” You dig your fist into the pocket and pull out the scraps of trash he’d been hiding in there with only mild disgust marring your features. “How do you live like that?”

“Dunno, just do. Maybe it’s because people like you can’t help but throw it out before I get the chance to get sick of it and do it myself.”

“Fair enough.”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know. I’m cold and I don’t wanna do work.”

“How about a movie marathon?”

“Sure.”

* * *

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you said movie,” you huff as the black opening credit scene dissolves and a French couple in a black and white colorscape whisper to one another in a moonlit alley.

“You said you didn’t care what we watched.”

“That was under the assumption that I would be able to understand it. There’s not even subtitles.”

“You don’t need them.”

“Yes, I do, because I don’t speak French. And neither do you.”

“That doesn’t really matter. You can read their body language and get all you need to from that.”

You try to fix your stare on the couple who is now running from the police with a pair of bloodied knives in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“This isn’t a horror movie, is it?”

“No,” he trails off suspiciously. When you whip your head to the side to glare at him, he cracks. “What? It’s not! It’s a thriller.”

“Anything that could give me nightmares is a horror movie, Taehyung.”

“It’s not even that scary,” he says right at the moment when the couple is seen carving into a police man’s face with the previously shown knives.

The cinematic effects are gross but clearly dated and if you were a reasonable person, you would find it laughable. But instead the dyed corn syrup dripping off the actor’s face just makes your stomach clench and you grab onto Taehyung’s arm out of disgust and anger.

“Why would you put me through this?”

“To get your mind off of Jungkook,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your mouth drops open when you realize partly that he’s right and partly you haven’t had a single moping thought about Jungkook and Yoori in the near hour it took to pick up snacks from the convenience store and walk over to Taehyung’s place from the pond while avoiding ice patches. It’s honestly a brilliant plan, but you hate him for it at the same time.

“You’re a dick.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp punch to the meat of his shoulder and revel in the bashful look he gives you while rubbing at the spot. “But thank you. If you wanted to get my mind off it, you didn’t have to use horror to do it.”

“True, but my options were limited since, one, I don’t have cable, and two, I don’t want to watch reality tv.”

“We could make fun of shitty rom-coms. That’s a good compromise.”

And that is how you end up watching a slightly watered down knock off of Fifty Shades with the TV remote in hand, rewinding, so you can point out where you can see the camera person’s reflection in the female lead’s pendant necklace.

“That’s a huge oversight. I can’t believe these people walk around like they’ve dedicated their lives to a certain level of craft only to do this”

“I mean, the fact that they used Papyrus font in their online movie poster should have clued you in,” you snort.

Both of you watch as the male lead swims up to his co-star where she stands at the foot of the pool he’s in. The grin he flashes her is blindingly white and his teeth resemble pearls in an unattractively artificial way.

“Why do people think veneers like that look good,” you sigh and shift so you can reach over and play with the faded pink strands of Taehyung’s hair. He leans in unconsciously and shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe they think people won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I suppose that’s fair. But with everything being filmed in high definition these days, there’s less wiggle room for that sort of thing.”

Male lead reaches for the slender ankle of his co-star and tugs her into the pool, soaking her dainty white eyelet dress. When she comes up for air, she pouts for a second before swiping at him and missing. She nearly falls face first back into the water but he reaches out with a condescending laugh and catches her with ease despite what physics would predict to be possible. The moment turns serious quickly as the pair stare into each other’s eyes. You don’t understand how she’s supposed to be the homely girl next door when she’s got what you know are the most expensive mink lash extensions on the market and the most symmetrical, albeit oddly familiar, face you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” Taehyung scoffs as the actor pulls her in for a heated kiss. “They really think that’s what buildup looks like. It’s fifteen minutes in and we still don’t know his name. And didn’t they just meet for the first time the day before this?”

“Keep up, Tae. Don’t you know all women want in life is to get rawed in the pool of the mystery guy who cut them off in the supermarket 24 hours prior?”

“Ah. That must be why my sex life is so grim.”

“Look at that,” you gesture to the couple that is now stumbling out of the pool and into the man’s perfectly lit mansion in a race to get to the bedroom. “That could be you if you had decided to take your dad’s car this year and cut some random girl off in the parking lot of the Price Chopper.”

“Damn. Would I have his mansion too?” You nod gravely.

“Probably.” You finish plaiting the hair of his sideburns and leave him with a little inflexible pink braid poking out from his temple.

“How’s it look?” He gestures to the side of his head with your handiwork on it.

“You look really great. You might not even need to break the rules of parking etiquette to snag a hot date.”

You both return your attention to the TV only to find the movie couple in a fairly compromising position. The lead actress is bent over the arm of a sofa as the camera ‘artistically’ captures the rapid way the actor drills into her from behind. It catches both of you off guard and a nervous laugh bubbles its way out of you.

“This is ridiculous.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns to laugh at the display with you.

“Yeah,” you say half-heartedly.

Even though the movie is horribly done and nothing in its execution per se turns you on, it is Friday. And your body has gotten pretty used to your weekend schedule. Which, up until recently, would have meant that at this hour Taehyung and Hoseok would be out somewhere looking for a place to vape while you helped Jungkook out of his pants at his apartment.

But that’s not what’s happening right now because Jungkook is probably on his way in a rental car to pick Yoori up for their third official date. To the movies. Still, that doesn’t stop your body from revving up more than it should after watching such a stupid romance movie. If you close your eyes, you’re sure you could remember with scary accuracy the feel of Jungkook’s hands on you.

“Hey.” At your awkward silence, Taehyung’s voice lowers and he leans in to tease you, “You’re not actually enjoying this, are you?”

“N-no, of course not.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Holy crap, you are. You’re into this.”

“No, I’m not! Stop!”

“This is hilarious. I can’t believe you like this.” He stares at the screen with a baffled smile on his face, trying to see what could be so appealing about the affected look of arousal on the male lead’s face as he bites his lip with zero finesse. “Is it him?”

“It’s not him,” you scrabble for an answer, “I-it’s the actress.” At that his eyes widen and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. “I mean, I recognize her from a porno, that’s all.”

“No way,” he says before studying the woman’s face. When the actor pulls tightly on her ponytail and forces a whining moan out of her, his eyes light up with recognition. “Wait, yeah, you’re right.”

“Told you.”

“Hold on. You watch porn?” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I watch porn. Sometimes I need some visual stimuli too. And she’s been in a few of them.”

“Hmm,” he says finally, “Never would have thought you’d like her stuff.”

“You say that like you’ve thought about what I’d watch.”

“Well, you’re just so—“

A sharp sound comes from near the front door as Hoseok barges in hurriedly, nearly falling and spilling the grocery bags in his hands. He places them on the small table outside the entrance to the tiny kitchenette.

“Tae, I tried calling you like 5 different times about getting the door. Why didn’t you pick up your...phone,” Hoseok trails off as he takes in the fact that you’re in Taehyung’s apartment, very early to the Friday game night, seated very close to Taehyung with a flaming cheeks on the couch while what looks like soft-core porn plays in the background.

“My phone must have died from the cold. Bro, I’m really sor—“

“What the hell are you two doing,” he sneers.

“We were just watching a movie,” you pipe in when you sense a weird shift in the mood.

Obviously, you’re closer to Jungkook than you are to Taehyung or Hoseok, but you really don’t understand the strange energy in the room. Hoseok looks angrier than he should about Taehyung not helping him with carrying some snacks and Taehyung looks overly imploring. Perhaps this is just how they are when they’re annoyed, but it still strikes you as odd even from a slightly distant perspective. When no one says anything you get up slowly, like you would around wild animals in a territory death match, and move towards Hoseok to help him with the food.

“Here, I’ll help you put these away,” you say quietly with a soft hand on his back to get him to break his cold glare. “Don’t be mad at Tae, he didn’t do anything.”

The glare is only slightly softened as he turns to you, jaw clenched. “Well, what about you?”

“What are you talking about?”

The genuine confusion on your face seems to dissolve whatever’s left of the sudden rage that filled him, and he breaks down and lets you take the bags he’s still holding from him. While your back is turned, Hoseok looks suspiciously over at Taehyung, who is still staring back with large, nervous eyes.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly when you finish unpacking the first bag of chips and come over to him to take the next one.

“Whatever,” you huff good-naturedly. “As long as you leave me out of your little lovers’ quarrel, I’m fine. Go make up, I’ll finish with these.”

You watch Hoseok amble over to Taehyung and begin whispering frantically before they finally come to some sort of agreement and hug it out.

When you come back to the couch, Hoseok has taken your spot next to Taehyung and has man-spread all over the rest of the free space. Even the back of the couch is claimed by his outstretched arms. Both of them stop their whispered conversation and turn to see why you’re hovering.

“What’s up,” Hoseok inquires suspiciously.

“Are we gonna do anything tonight? I could be in bed right now, but instead I’m here.”

“We have to pick the game first. My vote is for poker.”

“No poker. You still owe me like 80 bucks from last time you thought you could bluff,” Taehyung crosses his arms in a huff.

“That’s in the past, I’m a new man now. This Hoseok doesn’t owe you anything.”

“You’re an ass.” Taehyung springs to the side and quickly locks Hoseok in a sloppy headlock.

You watch them struggle on the couch in mild interest until Taehyung loses his footing and Hoseok’s wiggling underneath him pitches them both onto the floor. Someone’s head hits the coffee table on the way down, and you wince in sympathy, but they carry on like nothing happened.

The idea of letting them tire themselves out seems appealing at first but when Hoseok sinks his teeth into Taehyung’s hoodie-clad bicep and draws out a yelp, you intervene as neutrally as possible.

“Why don’t we just start with Gin Rummy?”

“Okay.” Hoseok drops Taehyung’s arm from his mouth, suddenly content.

You give him a wide berth and wait until after he goes into the kitchen to hunt for a deck of cards to offer Taehyung a helping hand up off the ground. He doesn’t make eye contact with you as you make your way over to the table, so you can’t silently grill him.

“How many is it? 5 per person,” Hoseok asks while shuffling the cards.

Small Styrofoam bowls are neatly laid out across the center of the table, each one filled with the chips from earlier. You perch in the chair next to Hoseok so you’re close to the Cheetos.

“It’s 7, I think.”

“Cool,” is all he says before handing you your cards.

You go around the table for a few rounds, placing cards down that you don’t need, picking up cards that you do and the occasional chip. Halfway through the first round, Taehyung gets up to turn off the fluorescents and turn on the fairy lights Hoseok won’t stop teasing him for having. You sync your phone up to his speaker and play music in the background and revel in the fact that you’re getting back into the swing of having fun with them. Without Jungkook.

“You still got beer, right?” Hoseok doesn’t look up from his cards since he’s very close to winning the round and he needs only 1 more card.

“Yeah,” you say, slapping down another card. “We picked some up at the convenience store. I’ll go get a pack for the table.”

“Thanks. I think I’m gonna call out for food too. What do you guys want?”

“I want pancakes,” Taehyung smiles brightly at the prospect of something other than the sad deli meats in his fridge.

Opening the door to his fridge leaves you confused. “You have stuff for pancakes.”

“Yeah, but I have to cook it,” he pouts at you through the window in the kitchen wall.

“It’s your turn,” Hosoek informs you.

You load up with supplies for making pancakes and head over to the table to distribute the ingredients amongst yourselves. Taehyung cracks eggs when it’s not his turn, Hoseok levels out the dry ingredients. You’re pouring milk into a bowl when one of your favorite songs from high school starts blaring through the speakers.

“Oh shit! Do you guys remember when this came out?”

“They played it at my homecoming dance,” Hoseok grimaces at the memory while you gyrate and mix the ingredients in a large bowl. “And then they played it on the radio for, like, 3 months straight afterwards. It was fucking annoying.”

“Yeah, but it’s been so long now. It’s good again. Come on, get up.” You pass Taehyung the bowl and creep towards Hoseok.

“What are you doing?” He smiles up at you like you’re crazy. You lace your fingers together and pull him out of his chair.

“What does it look like? I’m making you dance with me.”

“But you can’t dance, though.”

“Don’t ruin the fun,” you whine.

At first he doesn’t dance with you. He just continues to stand and lets you mouth the words at him and occasionally wave your hands in his face or pinch his cheeks when the lyrics get good. He even lets you bump hips with him and pretend to grind on him from behind.

Despite himself, your good mood is infectious and when you scamper back in front of him for the chorus, he surprises you by taking you into waltz position. It doesn’t fit the song, but it’s funny because you end up doing a bouncy-looking two step that resembles a sped-up prom dance. Taehyung hoots supportively from where he stands in the kitchen, melting butter on the stove.

Hoseok bends you over into a theatrical dip, causing you to let out a shrieking laugh and clutch at him so he doesn’t drop you. The song ends, but he jokingly holds the pose until your thighs are burning and you’re yelling for him to pull you back up. The front door clicks open while you bicker lightly.

“Look who decided to show up,” Hoseok drawls and finally brings you back up slowly, so you don’t get a head rush.

You blink away the stars that were starting to form in the corners of your eyes and realize Jungkook is, in fact, back from his date. At 9:43, no less. With Yoori in tow.

In your opinion, it’s much too early for someone to be back from date night with the long-time love of their life, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Instead you fiddle with the hem of your sweater nervously. Something about Yoori and Jungkook being present in the same room makes you a bit anxious. Perhaps its because it makes your policy about stopping your weekly rendezvous until things get physically serious between the two of them seem very flimsy.

Yoori and Jungkook are both clearly tipsy. You can tell from the way Jungkook hangs himself off her petite frame like he’s looking for support. You roll your eyes and go over to wrestle him from her and waddle him over to the dining room table where he can sit.

“How was your date,” you turn to Yoori who is hovering behind you with sleepy eyes.

“It was alright. The movie was a little boring,” she stage-whispers into your ear. “Don’t tell Kook.”

“You didn’t like the movie?” His head lolls back so he can look up at Yoori with doe eyes. Disappointment makes them look extra round and shiny.

She raises her brows guiltily. “I thought the new superhero movie would have been more your speed. I didn’t mind the idea of seeing it. I like action films.”

“Oh.”

You scamper out of the dining area as fast as you can to join Hoseok and Taehyung in the kitchen. The awkward couple moment they’re having isn’t something you think you should be privy to anyway.

Taehyung chuckles at the mortified expression on your face while Hoseok’s considers you stoically.

“Are they being too mushy in there?”

“No, not really.” You sigh. “It’s just weird realizing that I’ve never really been around them when they’re together. I don’t like the idea that I can’t get a read on the situation when they’re both good friends, you know?”

Hoseok snorts dryly. “Well, you know what they say. Dating changes people.”

“Yeah, but this is Kook we’re talking about,” Taehyung murmurs while stirring the hidden flour patches at the bottom of the bowl back into the batter. “Do you really think he’s changed that much?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’ve changed,” Hoseok suggests.

And maybe you have. Not in the normal way, where you outgrow people. But maybe something about you has changed since you started being intimate with Jungkook in such a way where you can’t be just his gaming buddy or his companionable silence partner. Gone are the days where you could push down your infatuation long enough to sit pressed close to each other on the couch when the Iron Man movie series is marathoning on TV. You’re not sure if that’s made things easier or harder on you. Perhaps its been a little bit of both.

“What are you guys up to?”

Jungkook has managed to amble over to the kitchen while staying upright thanks to Yoori’s guiding hands. Now he’s peering into the entrance of the kitchen after the way you, Taehyung, and Hoseok whispering to one another piqued his interest. Yoori lays on the sofa, recovering from too many glasses of complimentary movie chardonnay.

You keep your head down and pretend watching Taehyung ladle batter onto the griddle is fascinating enough not to reply. Thoughts of whether or not something crucial has shifted occupy your mind too much for you to speak.

“Just playing cards and making pancakes,” Taehyung shouts over the crackling sound of the first pancake hitting the hot skillet.

“The usual,” Hoseok jokes before pitching his voice into a slyer register. “How was the date?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook answers shyly, eyes glued to your silent form. The button down he’s wearing suddenly feels too tight and he undoes the top button to give himself some air. “How was your night?”

“Here, I’ll take over,” you mumble.

You take the spatula from Taehyung’s hand and motion for the guys to leave the kitchen while you flip the pancakes. It’ll give you something to do, and Taehyung’s thoughtful enough to go without asking questions. They don’t move far and instead Hosoek and Taehyung crowd Jungkook just outside the kitchen doorframe. Hopefully none of them notice how you turn the heat down so you can listen better. A masochistic part of you is curious to know how the date went even if you’re not sure if you can face him without combusting.

“Come on, tell us what happened. It’s just us guys,” Hoseok hisses before remembering that you’re you and you’re probably listening. Suddenly he feels like a douche. “We’re all friends,” he corrects himself. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be aware of your eavesdropping and complies.

“I…what do you wanna know?”

“Where’d you go?”

“To the movies. To see Cloud Break.”

Taehyung whistles lowly. “That’s supposed to be the number one date movie of the year.”

“It was very romantic,” Jungkook cracks a small, shy smile. “But I don’t think she really liked it.”

“Stil. Sounds like our boy is a real Casanova, huh?” Hoseok pats him roughly on the back with a wide grin. “The movies, though. Did you make it to third base?”

“Jeez, don’t sound so excited when you ask that,” Taehyung says with a cringe.

“What? I just wanna know if he’s any closer to swiping that V card. So,” Hoseok turns to stare, “Did you?”

“We’re taking it slow,” is all Jungkook says, eyes shifting behind the guys, towards you.

“Pancakes are ready,” you call from the kitchen. You figure it’s safe for you go back out, so you load a plate up with a tall stack and turn the stove off. Yoori’s head pops up at the sound of fresh food and hops up to come join you.

After you put the plate down, you wait until everyone is seated. Oddly enough, Jungkook and Yoori both sit on either side of the head of the table, leaving you to sit in between them.

“Thanks for cooking,” Jungkook mutters as soon as you sit down.

“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my part to have a fun Friday,” you answer awkwardly.

“These look better than the ones at Dreamies,” Yoori beams over at you. She cuts her pancakes happily before shoving a large, syrup-laden bite in her mouth. She gives you a cute thumbs up that breaks your serious mood for a moment.

You give her a warm squeeze on the shoulder. “Thanks for the high praise.”

“So, uh, what else have you guys been doing,” Jungkook inquires politely.

“Well,” Hoseok mentions nonchalantly through a full mouth, gesturing towards you. “I caught these two watching porn earlier when I came in with groceries. And this one couldn’t keep her hands off me after that.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s cheeks start to heat as he looks between you and Hoseok and then you and Taehyung.

You almost choke on your own food as Hoseok’s words register. “That is so inaccurate. How are you so comfortable lying like that?”

“Is it not the truth? Kook, you even saw her when you came in. Seems like she’s a real minx when she gets going. Who knew all it took was Fifty Shades.”

Taehyung tries to come to your rescue. “We weren’t even watching Fifty Shades—”

“So, it was actual porn,” Hoseok’s eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

“Oh my god,” you raise your hands in surrender and then push your plate back. “I can’t do this. I’m freezing and you’re annoying. Tae, I’m stealing some clothes. Yoori, you look cold. I’ll bring you something too.” You storm out of the dining room and make a beeline for Taehyung’s room.

While you were used to Hoseok’s ribbing, today you were extra sensitive to it and you needed some air. But you are actually cold, so you do spend a few minutes rummaging through Taehyung’s immaculate wardrobe until you find a sweater that has you smiling widely at the memories it evokes.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you remark with arms out to showcase the sweater when you come back. The four of them all turn to see the sweater you’re wearing.

It’s a run-of-the-mill sweater until you look at the picture that’s been screen-printed onto the front. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung in your freshman year that was taken minutes after the annual Mud Run. It had been a split-second decision the two of you made after a terrible set of midterms, but the smiles on both of your slightly rounder and muddied faces don’t indicate any inkling of regret. You give Yoori the only cashmere you could find that wasn’t on the floor.

“Of course he still has it,” Hoseok smiles proudly, “I put my blood, sweat, and tears into making it. And I was there to take the fricking picture at the end of the race at 9 am on a Saturday. Do you not still have yours?”

“Sadly no. I lost mine when I moved into the sophomore dorms.”

“I wish I had been there to watch the race. I should have stayed on campus,” Jungkook chimes in, cheeks full of pancake.

“Yeah,” Hoseok counters, “But if you had stayed, you wouldn’t have ever gotten Yoori’s number in the first place. So, it all worked out in the end, right?”

Suddenly, you’re not hungry and the lively mood that the night started with has disappeared. Taehyung must sense the subtle downward shift in your shoulders and runs to get the bottle of wine Hoseok bought for you that’s been chilling in the fridge.

“Why don’t we play another game,” he suggests once he’s back at the table and filling your glass.

Yoori perks up. “That’s a great idea! Let’s play something old-school. Do you have any board games?”

“I don’t think either of us has played a board game since before 2010. Much less owned one,” Jungkook winces.

“Really? Well, it doesn’t have to be a board game. Why don’t we do another old-fashioned one. Like Charades.”

Hoseok places his head in his hands elegantly, face the picture of innocence. But you know better.

“Yoori, how do you feel about Truth or Dare?” You squeeze your eyes shut and hope she says she’s never heard of it. Or that she hates it.

“I love Truth or Dare! Let’s play once everyone’s done eating.”

You curse under your breath, but return her excited smile when she turns to you and fills your cup once more. As a safety precaution, you finish the single pancake you’d served yourself earlier before taking another sip. Its not that you’re hungry, but you’d rather not be drinking on a completely empty stomach.

When everyone has had their fill of food, new bottles of booze get taken with you to the living room. There, you all rearrange the couch and the various upholstered chairs that Taehyung has collected until everyone is seated comfortably. Taehyung sits down last because he was in his room searching for his trusted 20 sided die.

“Okay, who’s who?”

“I call 3’s,” Hoseok calls with a hand raised straight in the air.

“No way,” you huff, “You’ll have way too many chances to be It. Pick multiples of at least four or I’m banning you from playing.”

“You can’t ban me from playing. Tae, can she ban me from playing?”

“I’m gonna go ahead and say yeah,” Taehyung says casually. You smile at Hosoek smugly.

“Fine. I pick 5’s.”

“I’ll take 3’s,” Yoori says once she understands the rules you all are operating under. No one goes to argue against her.

“I call even primes,” you say. You’re really not interested in playing this game.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at you. “Why even play if you’re gonna be like that?”

“You’re both wrong,” Taehyun grins. “Odd primes is where it’s at.”

“I guess I’ll take leftovers,” Jungkook sighs. He’s equally unenthused to be playing, but mainly because every previous time he’s played the game, Taehyung has dared him to smack Hoseok’s ass as hard as possible. It never ends well. “What is that? 3, 4, 5, 8 and what else?”

“14 through 16,” you supply automatically.

“Wow,” Yoori coos and latches onto your arm. “You’re so smart.”

“Alright! If everyone has a number, let’s play,” Hoseok shouts.

In the first few rolls, Taehyung and Yoori get the majority of the turns. Yoori is kind and sticks with truths for the most part, forcing Taehyung to bring up the strawberry shaped birthmark on his ass and Jungkook to talk about how he still doesn’t know how to ride a bike. Things pick up a bit when Hoseok manages a roll and Taehyung makes the mistake of choosing Dare. In response, Hoseok tells Taehyung to pull down his pants and show everyone the birthmark. You and Yoori exchange wide glances and giggle quietly as Taehyung downs the rest of his drink for some liquid courage.

“Taehyung,” Yoori giggles behind your hand as you attempt to cover her eyes. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” he grumbles before turning to face away from the group. He tugs his pants and boxers down a few inches before the pert curve of his butt. There, just south of the equator on the globe of his ass lies a very strawberry-shaped birthmark.

Immediately, Yoori chokes on her drink trying, and failing, to stifle her laughter at the pure ridiculousness of the mark. Meanwhile, you aren’t doing much better.

You pull your lip between your teeth as you hold back the cackle you desperately wish to let out. Instead, you opt for reaching out and pinching at the nearest cheek. The way he jumps slightly out of your reach while cupping his junk and glaring weakly at you sends you over the edge.

“Not bad,” Yoori snorts out between giggles.

“Yeah, wait a minute.” You gasp. “You have a cute little ass, Tae. I thought you said you didn’t have time for the gym.”

Taehyung’s face flushes, but he still smiles a self-depricating smile as he pulls up his pants finally. “I don’t. This baby is 100% homegrown.”

“I see. Must be all the tater tots,” you say with tears nearly rolling down your cheeks.

“And all the La-Z boy sitting.”

“Nice.”

Jungkook huffs audibly. He crosses his arms as he watches the game unfold, suddenly infinitely less interested in playing than he was a few minutes ago. “This is stupid.”

“Are you not having fun?”

He turns to Yoori quickly while remembering that he’s seated next to her. His own cheeks color with a bit of shame that he’d been caught being petulant.

“It’s not that. I mean…I just thought this would be a bit more mature.”

Yoori cocks her head to the side to appraise him and takes a sip of wine. “Is Truth or Dare known for its sophisticated gameplay?” A reserved and unreadable smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Not really,” he stammers. “I just figured you wouldn’t be interested in immature stuff like this.”

“Hmm. I’m actually having quite a lot of fun. Don’t worry about me and loosen up.”

Jungkook swallows roughly and mentally chides himself for being weird. Even he’s not sure where the pouting spell came from. Regardless, he smothers down the party pooper vibes and tries to enjoy the game as best he can.

Taehyung rolls a 10 and pouts at not be able to get back at Yoori. After all the laughter and the handful of swipes she’d made at his birthmark, he’s eager to pay her back somehow. But all he can do is turn to Hoseok with a bored expression.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare. Do you worst!” Hoseok sits excitedly at the edge of his seat while waiting for Taehyung to come up with a juicy truth or dare.

“Uh, I don’t know, bro. I dare you to do, like, 30 pushups or something.”

“That’s such a shitty dare.”

“I couldn’t think of anything. I was hoping Yoori would roll so I could give her a taste of her own medicine,” he says while locking eyes with Yoori. The two engage in a semi-serious staring competition for a while before they break into laughter.

“This is bullshit,” Hoseok mumbles as he rises from his chair and gets into position to do the pushups.

The room is quiet while everyone waits for him to finish. Sound of his exertion floats over from his section of the circle and you swipe through your twitter feed in the meantime. But you become so engrossed in a recipe for spinach dip that you don’t realize Hoseok has rolled a 2 and is calling out to you.

“What,” you say, distracted by the amount of leafy greens going into the dip.

“Put your phone away,” Hoseok whines, “It’s game night rules.”

You don’t look up from your screen. “Doesn’t count when we’re not playing video games.”

“You suck.”

“So do you.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” you say on autopilot before realizing the mistake you’ve made.

You let your phone clatter to the ground and prepare to take back what you said, but you can see that its too late from the smirk Hoseok is wearing. It’s the worst kind, too. The smarmy one that lets you know he’s thinking about doing something greasy. You’re willing to bet all the money left in your student account balance that he’s going to dare you to show him your boobs.

“Dare you to kiss Yoori,” he says smugly, like he’s got you cornered.

You’re only slightly surprised and let out a breath of relief. The idea that he might dare you to shed your layers to sit in Taehyung’s freezing living room in just your bra and bottoms was really worrying you.

“Really, Hoseok? What are we, 13?”

Taehyung chimes in with concern. “Yeah. They might not be comfortable with that.”

“I’m fine with it,” Yoori perks up slightly in her seat.

“Okay,” Taehyung hesitates, “But Jungkook—”

“Might not approve of it? Why don’t we ask him,” she supplies before turning to Jungkook. “Kook, what do you think?”

“Well, I—”

“Why the hell would he care,” Hoseok cuts him off. “Dude, you don’t care, right? It’s harmless and its 2018.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.” He pushes his glasses up with his ring finger, a nervous tick you’re familiar with. Your first instinct is to go over and see what’s wrong, but you quell the urge.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok mumbles to himself when he realizes this is really happening. You get up to join Yoori in the love seat she’s occupying. Before you can change your minds he speaks up. “No pecks. It has to be real.”

“Figured as much,” you roll your eyes and gesture for Yoori to scooch closer to you. She sends you a smile that’s hidden from the others by the shiny curtain of her hair. You mirror it back automatically.

“For 60 seconds,” Hoseok shouts. Yoori’s eyes widen at the time condition but she doesn’t say anything.

“That’s too much.”

“30 seconds, but you have to use tongue.”

“Hoseok!” You and Taehyung yell simultaneously.

“Fine,” he says before thinking for a beat. “45 seconds but no lame stuff. Final offer.”

You check in with Yoori to see if she objects, but she merely rests her cheek on your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Deal, you damn pervert.”

Hoseok scrambles to get his phone timer launched while you and Yoori arrange yourselves accordingly once and then a second time when Hoseok says he can’t see. You whisper an apology on his behalf, but Yoori waves it off and pulls you in with a gentle hand resting at the base of your neck. You can’t help but notice that even from a few inches away, her skin is flawless. Its almost unfair.

“Alright. Start.”

Yoori swoops in and immediately parts your lips with her own. They’re soft and taste like the moscato she’s been drinking, and it’s honestly a very tantalizing sensory experience. You let her take over, let her press you closer until her nose brushes your cheek and she sucks your lip into her mouth. It takes you by surprise and when you gasp softly, she teases the border of your lips with her tongue ever so lightly. You let out an appreciative hum, surprising yourself. She smiles, nearly breaking the kiss, before nipping at you once. Tentatively, you brush your tongue against hers. She surges forward and works over your mouth until the soft chiming of Hoseok’s alarm alerts you that the dare has been completed.

You pull away first with hot cheeks and a slightly swollen mouth. Yoori looks pleased with herself as she looks over your flustered state. Neither of you see any of the guys’ shocked, wistful expressions. Yoori moves to smooth down the flyaways she created when she pressed you into the seat’s upholstery.

“You kiss just like Jungkook,” she laughs before pulling away slightly. The others murmur in the background as they strain to listen in.

“Wait, what?” Her words are slow to register at first. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yeah. Loads of times,” she snickers, “On the way to the restaurant, in the parking lot of Dreamies, in the back of his car. My apartment. We’ve even—” She takes in the mortified look on your face and grimaces. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to hear about this stuff. I’ll stop.”

You make mental note of all the occasions she’s mentioned. One of which was their first date. But just yesterday Jungkook had told you that they hadn’t even started holding hands as a couple. And while he hadn’t made a comment about anything else, the implication behind the statement was that they definitely hadn’t done anything more than that. Something about his more daring behavior struck you as unusual. But if he’d been getting other practice elsewhere, it wouldn’t be odd at all.

He had lied to you. And you wonder what else he’d been lying about.

When you turn around to face Jungkook, he looks pale and scared. You’ve only ever seen him look like that a handful of times and it was when he was in deep shit and it was his own fault. During those times, you’d somehow managed to show him why he was wrong while also making him feel supported. This time, though, there was no way you could do that. Not without throwing away what little dignity you have left from getting into this heinous arrangement in the first place.

Taehyung, Yoori, and Hoseok look on silently as you and Jungkook exchange the long look. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls rapidly as adrenaline runs through his system. When you stand up, he stands up at the same time, a hand instinctively reaching out.

You ignore him in favor of grabbing your things without a word and pulling up the bus schedule app on your phone. You’re not going to force yourself to wait around for an uber to pick you up, but you’re also not going to subject yourself to further torture by walking home in the middle of winter. Once you see that the next bus is coming in 20 minutes, you put on your jacket.

“I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys around.” You wince as your voice cracks a little bit, but don’t bother lingering to see if people noticed. You hurry out with the hopes that you can find a place to hide and wait for the bus before Jungkook can follow you out. He calls your name, softly at first, but you don’t acknowledge him.

But you don’t get any further than a few meters away down Taehyung’s hallway before Jungkook’s catching up after having sprinted out after you.

“Jungkook, stop,” is all you can trust yourself to say as you stare at your shoes.

“I can explain.”

“Fine.” You look up at him, gaze sharp. “Explain.”

He seems taken aback like he didn’t think you’d let him speak. His demeanor turns sheepish. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It just...happened.”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that? You made a choice, Jungkook. It didn’t just happen. I want to know why you chose to lie.”

“I just…wasn’t ready for the weekends to stop.”

“Look, I get it. You got used to getting your rocks off. But we had a deal. It shouldn’t have mattered that you didn’t want it to end. As soon as you and Yoori got physical, we were supposed to go back to normal.”

“That’s not why I decided to lie,” he hisses.

“Then why did you?”

“Because!”

“Because?” You scoff. “That’s not an answer.”

“Because I,” he stammers, not sure of what to to say. “I didn’t feel comfortable detailing mine and Yoori’s intimacy to you.”

“You didn’t feel comfortable?” Your voice is carefully low, but raises as you continue. “You didn’t feel comfortable telling me, the girl who has been your best friend since we were kids, about you and your new girlfriend? The girl who you had spit into your palm yesterday so you could jerk off in her bed yesterday? You didn’t feel fucking uncomfortable then, Jungkook!”

“Well, you’re always talking about my comfort. Shouldn’t it matter when I’m uncomfortable? Even if its at a weird time?”

“Fine. Let’s say you were uncomfortable. You still should have told me.”

“Why is it your business?”

Your jaw drops open. “Maybe because yours and Yoori’s relationship is the reason this whole thing started? And maybe because if you’re going to be running between the two of us and swapping bodily fluids, I should know? For my own fucking health?”

He stammers when he realizes that reason never came to mind once. Its a losing argument, he knows. As a last ditch effort, he turns things around.

“Is that the only reason why you’re mad? Because you think I would have given you an STD?”

“Are you serious,” your voice cracks again as tears take hold of you. “You think that’s all I care about?”

“You haven’t made any other points,” Jungkook sniffs like he’s indifferent to your shimmering eyes. “What else am I supposed to think? Is there something else?”

“I can’t believe someone so smart can be so stupid. You really don’t get it? I can’t keep sneaking around with you like this because you’re dating a girl who’s my friend now. But even if she weren’t, I can’t keep doing this because I have feelings—”

The front door opens and Hoseok slides through and closes it softly. He takes in your bowed shoulders, watery eyes, and shaking hands before pinning Jungkook with a glare that’s so potent he steps back a bit.

“You okay,” he nods his chin at you subtly.

“Y-yeah, Hobi. I’m fine. Me and Kook were just talking.”

“Just talking, huh?”

“Hoseok,” Jungkook grits through clenched teeth, anxious for you to continue what you were about to say. “Go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, I think it does. I mean, she’s my friend and you’ve been screwing her over figuratively and literally for the past month now, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and tears of embarrassment slip over your waterline. “You knew?”

“Of fucking course, I knew. You were walking around like you were suddenly getting laid and Kook was showing up to TA sessions with hickies on his neck the week after we made a joke about you taking his V card off his hands. All at the same time that you magically have to start staying over after game night at his place for tutoring,” he spits the word out. “You’re the smartest girl I know. There’s no way you actually have that much to learn from Kook of all people.”

“Oh, come on,” Jungkook drawls and steps in between you and Hosoek. “Don’t pretend to care about her now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re always picking fights with her. You don’t care what’s going here, you’re just trying to feed the flames.”

“Kook, stop,” you rasp from behind him, but he ignores you and shoves a hand into the center of Hoseok’s chest.

“Say more,” Hoseok smiles darkly, egging him on. The two of them stand inches apart, each one poised to attack the other at a moment’s notice.

“You’ve been itching to see things fall apart for me because you can’t handle being the oldest and the least accomplished in the group.” You try not to gasp but it’s hard because you’ve never heard him say something so nasty to anyone, let alone to someone you would both call a friend. “You’re just mad that your…your indifferent stoner, beta cool guy act hasn’t paid off and you’re still alone with your hand on the weekends. I can tell when someone wants what I have. You’re like every other stupid bully from high school, but with none of the popularity.”

Your mouth drops open, but you can’t find any words to stop the situation from escalating any further. Jungkook smirks at his silence. But Hoseok merely raises a casual eyebrow before turning to look down at you from over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“If you wanted sex that badly, you could have just come to me, you know. Offer still stands now, too.”

Before you can counter anything either of them has said, Jungkook’s fist collides with Hoseok’s jaw. The sound resonates in the empty hallway with a loud crunching sound followed by Hoseok tumbling to the floor and Jungkook yowling in pain at his damaged knuckles. Jungkook automatically turns to you, grimacing and cradling his hand, but you swerve past him to check on Hoseok.

He’s still very much conscious, but the blow took him by surprise and he lost his balance. There’s a little bit of blood when Jungkook’s fist split the skin on the side of Hoseok’s jawline and you can tell already that there will be swelling and bruising. But he should be fine and he doesn’t show any of the signs of concussion that you remember reading about a while ago.

You pull him up by the hand and sling his arm over your shoulder when he stumbles once upright. Together you hobble back into the apartment. Taehyung and Yoori are sitting stiffly at the dining room table when you come in and both rush forward to help you. Jungkook shuffles in after, at a loss for what’s going on.

Wrapping a bag of frozen vegetables from Taehyung’s freezer in a dish towel, you tend to Hoseok’s minor wounds. Taehyung looks tired and frantic as he looks at his friend in pain.

“I don’t get it. What happened out there?”

You hang your head in shame and to avoid both Taehyung and Hoseok’s watchful gazes. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t say anything, but you’re so embarrassed and disoriented that nothing satisfying comes out.

“They were fighting. And Jungkook punched him.”

“But why would he do that? Hoseok, did you say something?”

“Don’t blame Hobi, he was trying to help me,” you whisper so Yoori can’t hear. You’re not sure you can handle breaking the news to everyone just yet. “Tae, I haven’t been honest with you a while now. Things have been going on between me and Kook and it hasn’t been right. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but its been eating me up.”

Jungkook watches as Yoori stands off to the side, looking lost and a little out of place as she tries to parse out where the boundaries for her are. She looks between you and him with uncertainty in her eyes before she finally comes over to check in with him first. He waves her off and watches her naturally gravitate towards you.

When Yoori comes asking you what’s happened with worry in her eyes, you look back at Jungkook for a moment before bawling your eyes out in the middle of the kitchen. Yoori envelopes you in a hug immediately, and you let her comfort you despite the fact that you’ve been secretly highjacking her relationship. Sobs wrack your body for a moment before your phone chimes to let you know your bus is coming soon.

You whisper in her ear that you’re sorry and you’ll explain when it’s the right time. You squeeze her soft hands to your cheek and stutter out that you don’t deserve a friend like her, but that you hope you can remedy that sooner rather than later. With that, you whisper a goodbye and head out, giving Jungkook a wide berth.

He turns around just in time for him to catch one last glimpse of you before the door swings shut behind you.

#btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #bttnetwork #btswriters #bts smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenarios #bangtan imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfction #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios

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bran098 · 5 years ago

Text

turtle crossing

I was saving the diapsids long before you VSCO girls made it trendy by ditching plastic straws in your venti Starbucks cups.

A couple of years ago, driving along my small stretch of road, I saw a turtle up ahead, smack dab in the middle of it. I slowed down, pulled off to the side, and looked both ways before stepping foot onto the asphalt. It was a rather small turtle, just doing its business, taking its time to cross the road. That is until it saw me. One look at this lumbering dude and it withdrew its limbs into its shell.

I picked it up and asked it not to bite me as I slowly and gently walked it across the road in the same direction it was headed. I hoped it wasn't the snapping kind. I didn't know much about turtles but was it possible it could whip its head around, elongated and angry, ready to strike my palm with its powerful jaw? Thankfully it never peeped out of its head hole and let me taxi it to the other side. Once it was safely out of rubber harm's way, I carefully set it down and stepped back a bit to see if it would come out of its shell. It eventually did and continued on its course.

I drive a lot and see a lot of dead animals in the road and it breaks my heart a little each time. I try to swerve to avoid as many as I can but not all animals can be avoided and it should always be done within reason. And I started to think about that "within reason" and realized most of us don't apply that logic to our day-to-day lives and routine activities. Consideration, kindness, and good deeds are all lacking in society. I've often wondered where that breakdown started to begin. Surely it's not just one factor but a multitude of reasons we've all become rancid.

One thing that I've noticed is we don't seem to be taught how to give and receive love. We all feel alone and alienated and bullied and often that bullying comes from a lack of love on the aggressor's part. We live in an iced coffee cancel culture where it's popular to point out everyone's flaws. We are quick to condemn an off-color comment but we don't try to correct it. It's instant damnation without education and no opportunity for growth.

It's easy to write people off and think the worst of them because when we realize people can make mistakes, we have to face the reality that we also make mistakes. And that's a hard pill to swallow because mistakes mean growth and change and it's more comfortable being petty. We don't expect people to do better because we don't want to do better ourselves.

We openly hate others expecting no consequence but expect retaliation when someone hates us. We are taught suspicion, paranoia, and protection. But it really just boils down to fear and ignorance, two qualities that are not only tolerated by #45 but encouraged. Because when you can create, orchestrate, and control someone's fear, you can stroll in as the savior and when people feel safe, they trust you. And when they remain ignorant and uneducated, they will never question you.

When I was in school learning about civil rights and segregation, I looked around at my mixed classroom, all shades of black and white, and I thought to myself, "I am so glad that's all over." I look back on that memory with a mix of fondness and embarrassment now because I was so naive and innocent and really thought racism was dead. If only it were true and if only I could still live in that fantasy world. But at the time, living in the south, I should have been old enough and astute enough to know better. I guess I always brushed off the random racist relative or neighbor as a one-off, some leftover ideology that hadn't quite been eliminated yet. But my generation was better. My generation knew of tolerance and acceptance and did not listen to their small-minded elders. I was so wrong.

What I only came to recognize later on was that racism and bigotry never left us. Neither did sexism or homophobia. I just don't think I've ever seen it displayed as openly and proudly as I do today. And when you put God into the mix, it's an even more dangerous combination because now people can justify their hatred by hiding behind a religion. *"I'm not pro-life. God is! I'm not pro-slavery. God is! I'm not pro-guns. God is!"* Everyone is quick to claim religious freedom unless it has to do with the freedom to practice a different religion other than theirs. Then all of a sudden it's a crusade against Christianity.

I've witnessed all this from afar and I've been guilty of apathy. As long as it wasn't bothering me, I didn't care too much. I figured it would all work itself out eventually. Good defeats evil, right? Actually, not at all. There is no force in the world that will help or shift the tide toward good. No force except the force that humans can exert to make those changes themselves. I don't want to sit back and watch the world quite literally burn. I don't want to see minority groups oppressed or omitted entirely. That's not what I've grown up wanting to be. I've always wanted to help, to unite, to connect not only myself to other people but connect those around me.

It seems like a monumental task to try to save a world that already has one foot in the grave. And frankly, I don't think I'm up for the task. But what I am up for is doing all that I can, this small, insignificant, fragile glass human, to try to make someone's day better and hope that whatever good comes from that will then be delivered to someone else.

I guess it's the little things that still matter, those niceties and favors that have gotten lost or forgotten over time. Like paying for someone’s coffee or giving a genuine thanks when someone hands you a burger through a drive-thru window or bags your groceries at the checkout line. When someone tells you a joke, when you ask how their day was, when someone breaks off a piece of candy for someone else to enjoy. It's thinking about others, being considerate, taking the time and energy to do something for someone else, be it big or small. 'Cause those little interactions can really make a big difference in someone's day.

Maybe people don't bother with manners anymore because many of us feel so insignificant ourselves that we feel we can't make a difference in anyone's day. That lending an ear or offering our skills or services wouldn't be worth anyone's time. But that's just not the case. For example, I think I'm the biggest waste of space but that doesn't impede me from trying to help others. I think it gives me a sense of purpose and helps me not feel so worthless. If I wasn't there to make someone smile, maybe no one else would have come around either.

I'm glad I came around for that turtle because not long after I set it down to safety, a semi-truck came barreling by. It would have surely crushed that creature into the concrete had I not intervened. It was no inconvenience. It didn't take more than a few minutes out of my day and I was glad to assist another animal in need. What I did might not change the world and maybe the turtle didn't know it was destined for certain doom but moving it was a practice of showing mercy and concern for something else, something I need to do more of, something we all need to do more of, all in hopes that our slow and steady deeds might just add up to something significant.

#writing

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serenlyss · 6 years ago

Text

Petrichor

Rating: G Pairings: Ritshou (can be viewed as romantic or platonic) Summary: Shou and Ritsu have a heart-to-heart concerning the events of the World Domination arc. Crossposted to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18465340

Eyy I'm back with another post-WD arc drabble, this time with Ritshou. I've never written any shippy MP100 stuff before so hopefully they come across as still being in character. It's not explicitly romantic though, so you can interpret it as being platonic if you want too. Anyway, hope you all like it!

The morning after Mob defeats Suzuki Touichiro is… interesting. None of them really know what to do now that it’s over. They don’t breach the subject aside from figuring out where they’re going to stay and how they’re going to get out of their battered clothing, and it seems as though they’re determined not to talk about it yet. Even Mob, who would normally be oblivious to moods like these, has his lips tightly sealed, apparently just as loathe to bring it up as the rest.

Reigen brings them back to his apartment and lets them sleep in his living room. He gives away his leftover food, his pillows and spare blankets. Shou comes along, despite having a house to go back to, and no one questions it. Maybe he appreciates his new friends. Maybe he wants to make sure they would be okay. He keeps the mood light with quips and sarcasm and a rambunctiousness that’s somehow endearing instead of annoying, and the others appreciate him for it. It keeps them from focusing too much on the weight of what had just happened.

He’s the first to fall asleep when all is said and done.

Ritsu wakes early the morning after despite not going to sleep until well past three in the morning, uncurling himself from the fetal position he finds himself defaulting to and untucking the blankets from around his shoulders. He shivers as the mild air of Reigen’s apartment tickles his warm shoulders, and debates going back to sleep for a minute before reluctantly slipping off the fold-out futon couch and padding barefoot to the kitchen for a drink.

Mob and Teru are still fast asleep, the blond boy having shown up at some point during the night after Ritsu had passed out. As he reaches for a plastic cup sitting on a shelf, however, he notices that Shou isn’t on the ground where he’d fallen asleep the night before. In fact, he’s not in the living room at all. Ritsu’s brow furrows in confusion as he sips at his water, setting the cup aside on the kitchen counter for the time being.

He can’t have gone far, Ritsu rationalizes, glancing around again to make sure he hasn’t just been moved or something. He wanders the little apartment, peeking around corners and into closets. Where had he gone off to? The bathroom is empty, and everyone else is still sleeping.

Had he left the apartment on his own? If he had, he hadn’t left any sort of note saying where he’d be going. Perhaps he’d wanted to get some fresh air, and figured everyone else would be sleeping in anyway?

Ritsu makes his way back into the kitchen, poking his head into the laundry room. The washer is empty, and the dryer filled with clothes Teru had brought from his wrecked apartment to share with the rest of the group. With a start, Ritsu realizes that he’s still wearing his torn-up jeans and bright yellow hoodie from the day before. There are blood stains and patches of dirt all over it, and one of the sleeves has been ripped off entirely. Apparently whatever magic had healed his wounds hadn’t extended to his favorite sweatshirt. What a shame. He crouches down in front of the dryer and sifts through the pile of clothes, wrinkling his nose at the selections. As expected, Teru’s wardrobe consists of bright, gaudy colors and patterns, all of them far too busy for Ritsu’s liking, but he doesn’t really have another choice. After a moment of deliberation he selects a pair of light gray sweatpants and a red tee-shirt with a more subdued pattern to swap his old clothes out for.

He slips out of his ruined clothes and into Teru’s fresh ones, sighing in relief. He hasn’t showered yet since the ordeal of the day before, but just having clean clothes to wear makes him feel much better already. Maybe he can jump in the shower before Reigen wakes up, and avoid having to ask him for additional favors.

He leaves his old clothes on top of the washer for now, unsure of where else to put them, and walks out of the laundry room. Teru and Mob remain fast asleep, and there’s no noise from Reigen’s bedroom. He wanders back over to the bed, observing his sleeping older brother. Mob looks much better than he had the previous night, the color returning to his face after the stress of using so much power had sapped away his energy, and he’s drooling on Reigen’s pillow. Ritsu suppresses a chuckle, a smirk growing on his face. Well, at least he’s getting plenty of rest, he tells himself.

Movement at the corner of his eye catches Ritsu’s attention, and he turns his gaze to a door he hadn’t noticed before at the back of the small dining area by the kitchen. It’s a sliding glass door, and beyond it he can see the city. A balcony? It seems like a fancy addition to such a small and cramped apartment, but in a big city like Seasoning, he supposes it makes sense.

He approaches the door, lifting a hand to turn the handle and go outside, then pauses. Shou is leaning on the balcony’s iron railing, his bright red hair easy to spot among the city's gray and brown hues, but it’s not his colorful appearance that catches Ritsu’s attention. His expression is soft, a slight frown on his face, and his eyes stare at something far into the distance. Or maybe he’s not looking at anything at all. He doesn’t look sad, exactly, but it’s a far cry from his enthusiasm and cheerfulness from the night before, and Ritsu finds himself experiencing a sort of mental whiplash.

He’s only known Shou for a day, but he’s already seen so many sides of him. His fierce determination, his strong wit and cunning mind, his magnetic charisma and endearing optimism. This Shou, though, the melancholic boy too caught up in his own thoughts to even notice what’s going on right behind him, is unfamiliar. A weight settles in Ritsu’s stomach and stays there as he turns the handle and pushes open the door.

Shou blinks at the gentle noise of the door latch clicking open and turns to see who’s approaching, an easy smile coming to his face when he sees that it’s Ritsu. The smile is only half there, however, lacking its usual confidence and snark. “Ah, Ritsu. You’re up early,” he says, voice still soft from sleep and quiet to match the serenity of the still-sleeping city below.

“You’re one to talk,” Ritsu shoots back without a second thought, crossing the few steps to the railing. He turns around and leans his back against the cold metal, letting his hands hold him up. It’s slightly colder outside than it is inside, and the balcony is damp from rain that must have fallen overnight. The air smells wet and earthy, and the cold ground sucks the warmth out of the soles of Ritsu’s feet. It’s comforting, somehow, like the rain will wash away the damage that’s been done, even though he knows that isn’t how rain works. “Geez, it really is quiet, huh? I guess no one’s gonna be going to work today.” He glances down at the empty streets below. Usually they would be filled with bumper-to-bumper traffic, sleep-deprived commuters honking at each other to speed up as they make their way to work, but instead there’s not a soul to be seen. They’re all too afraid of another catastrophe to risk getting too close to the giant broccoli in the middle of town.

Shou hums noncommittally in reply to Ritsu’s words, an oddly dismissive move from someone as talkative as him.

He falls quiet for a moment, and Ritsu watches him. He gauges his expressions, his movements, whatever he can use to determine what he’s thinking and how to respond. It’s a habit he’s picked up from years of pacifying Mob, trying to keep his stress levels as low as possible to avoid an explosion.

“Are the others still asleep?” Shou asks after a few long moments of quiet, turning his gaze back to Ritsu momentarily.

Ritsu nods his head. “Out like lights. Reigen, too. They’ll probably sleep for a while longer, and I don’t want to wake them. I guess my body’s still on autopilot from school, and it wouldn’t let me sleep in.” He shrugs his shoulders casually. “What about you? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” Shou replies with a soft chuckle. He doesn’t elaborate any further, just falls into that melancholic quiet once more.

Ritsu gnaws on his lower lip for a moment. He’s well aware of how all of them had been avoiding talking about what had happened last night, and he doesn’t blame Shou for being tight-lipped around someone he literally only met the day before, but he still finds himself bothered by Shou’s silence, in an inexplicable way. Maybe it’s the obvious way Shou is avoiding talking about what’s on his mind. Maybe it’s the wistful look in his eye, the way he stares into the distance without looking at anything. Or maybe it’s just Ritsu prying into business that isn’t his. He blinks suddenly, a thought coming to mind.

He’s worried about Shou.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs, the question thick on his tongue. It’s a question with a lot of weight, he knows, and while he doesn’t want to overstep his bounds, he can’t deny that he’s genuinely concerned.

Shou doesn’t react to the question in any meaningful way, just shoots him another empty smile. “Yeah, dude. Whatever your brother did with all that energy yesterday, it healed all my wounds. Shame it couldn’t fix up my clothes, though, but I borrowed some of Teru’s.” He tugs on the edge of the bright pink sweater he’d snagged, grinning. “I could go for a shower, and maybe some ramen or something, but, y’know, I’m not dead, so that’s a plus.”

This only serves to make Ritsu’s frown deepen. “You know that’s not what I was asking,” he insists. “I mean, like… how are you feeling? After what happened. You seem… sad.”

Shou’s smile falters, his lips quivering as though he wants to speak but doesn’t have any words. He glances away. “Ah, you got me,” he says with a brief laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “I was thinking about my old man. They’ve already hauled him off to prison for the whole world domination thing. I knew it would probably happen eventually, but I guess I never thought about what comes next.” He sighs softly, crossing his arms and leaning further on the railing in front of him. “He may be a pretty shitty guy, but he’s still my dad, you know?”

Ritsu doesn’t know. His own father has always been a stringent rule-follower, strict but kind, and he knows he would never turn on his own son the way Shou’s father had. He doesn’t answer; the question is rhetorical, anyway. “What’s gonna happen to you now?” he asks instead.

“Dunno, at least not yet,” Shou admits, glancing away. “I can’t exactly go back to my dad’s place now that he’s not there. I’ll probably go try to live with my mom for a while instead. It’s been a long time since we were able to spend more than a few hours together.”

Ritsu nods. It makes sense. “I’m glad you have someone else you can rely on,” he says, turning around so he’s facing the streets like Shou is, instead of staring through the sliding glass door into Reigen’s kitchen.

Shou hums absent-mindedly in reply, but Ritsu can see that the gears in his head are still turning. His brow is furrowed in a thoughtful way, eyes staring at nothing in particular. Ritsu waits, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

“Ritsu, you’re a smart guy, right?” he says eventually, question piercing the silence.

Ritsu turns to him in surprise. He swallows, hand moving to rub the back if his neck in a somewhat embarrassed manner. “Er, yeah, I guess so,” he replies modestly, not so comfortable with the idea of singing his own praises. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you think my dad will ever really change?”

Ritsu feels his breath catch in his throat. His mouth opens, but no words come out. Shou doesn’t look at him, but his voice cracks at the end of his question, and he looks as though he’s barely holding himself together. Ritsu quickly closes his mouth and glances down, staring at the empty sidewalk below.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, unsure how else to reply. Do people like Touichiro ever truly change? The old Claw thugs seemed to have turned over a new leaf, at least, so maybe there was hope. “Honestly, you’d be better off asking my brother. Shigeo’s the kind of guy to give anyone a second chance. It’s never a lost cause until he says it is.” He cracks a fond smile at this. “He’s been like that since he was a kid. I couldn’t tell you where he got it from, though.” The back of his mind tells him that it’s actually Reigen who taught him the important of being a good person and giving others second chances, but he doesn’t say it aloud. He isn’t exactly inclined to give a scam artist the benefit of the doubt, as much as Mob seems to enjoy hanging around him.

“Ah, I guess you’re right.”

A moment of silence goes by as the two of them stare off the balcony and toward the destroyed city in the distance. Then Shou sniffles, his grip on the railing tightening. Ritsu blinks, confused, and when he turns to look at the boy again, a tear rolls down his cheek. “Shou?” he says, not sure how to respond to this. His hand twitches instinctively, wanting to do something, anything, but he has no idea how to approach comforting someone he’s only just met. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, even if it felt like much longer, and Ritsu never has been good with feelings and emotions.

Shou reaches up to scrub at his eyes with the long sleeve of Teru’s borrowed sweater, and he sniffles again, making a confused noise as it comes away wet. “Ah, now I’ve done it,” he says, and he sounds miserable. He grimaces, shaky and vulnerable, and glances away, hiding his face from Ritsu. He continues to grip the railing tightly, knuckles white, as though it was the only thing keeping him standing. He muffles the sobs that try to escape his mouth.

Ritsu feels the weight in his stomach grow heavier, his chest tightening. In some ways, Shou had taken the heaviest blow of everyone. How long had he lived with a father who only wanted him for his power? How many times had he cried like this in private, with no one he could turn to for comfort? The thoughts make Ritsu feel sick.

He shifts closer to Shou, shoulder-to shoulder, and moves his hand to wrap around the other boy’s back. He rests his hand on Shou’s opposite shoulder, quietly offering some semblance of comfort. He squeezes gently, hearing Shou’s breath hitch at the contact. “It’s alright if you want to cry,” he says softly. “I won’t tell anyone.” He hopes his words come as some comfort to the grieving boy, though he half expects Shou to withdraw immediately. He doesn’t seem like a very emotional kid, and it wasn’t like they were close friends, either. After going through what they had together, however, Ritsu feels as though there are certain thresholds they’ve already long passes despite their short time knowing each other.

To his surprise, Shou doesn’t hesitate, immediately turning and pulling him into a tight hug. Ritsu’s caught off-guard at first; no one has hugged him like this since he was much smaller. Still, he doesn’t pull away, gently laying his hands against Shou’s back to reciprocate.

Shou’s a quiet crier, the only noises escaping him being sharp breaths and hiccups, but he clings to Ritsu like a lifeline, gripping the back of his borrowed shirt as though he’ll fall through the floor if he doesn’t. Ritsu doesn’t know what to say to make him feel better, so he doesn’t say anything, just rubs small circles into his back.

It only takes a few minutes for Shou to calm back down, but even after his tears have stopped and his quivering has gone away, he doesn’t remove himself from Ritsu’s grasp. He leans his forehead against Ritsu’s shoulder, taking a deep breath. “Sorry,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I didn’t think I’d be getting emotional about this… not so quickly, anyway.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” Ritsu assures, and Shou finally pulls back, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. He doesn’t meet Ritsu’s gaze, well aware of his red nose and bloodshot eyes. After a beat, Ritsu adds, “Crying always makes me feel better when I’m feeling stressed out, and I think it’s safe to say that we’re all feeling pretty stressed.”

Shou chuckles softly, straightening the edge of his borrowed shirt. “Yeah,” he agrees, and lifts a hand to run his fingers through his slicked-back hair. “Thanks for understanding. You’re a good friend, Ritsu.”

Friend. Ritsu hasn’t really thought of that before, but he supposes they are friends. “Any time,” he replies with a small smile, and he means it. Normally he keeps his friends at somewhat of a distance, even at school. With his classmates, there’s always an unspoken reputation to uphold, but he doesn’t feel that way around Shou or Teru. Even Shigeo has begun bleeding from one category into the other as Ritsu relates more and more to his brother’s struggles with his psychic powers.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can he hears the sound of the sliding glass door cracking open.

“There you are! Sheesh, you two gave me a heart attack, waking up so early and coming out here. I thought you’d left, or been kidnapped or something!”

Reigen is standing in the doorway, still in his pajamas. His hair is sticking up in all directions, uncombed, and there’s short stubble on his face that has grown in overnight. Ritsu tries not to laugh.

“Ah, sorry! We were just getting some fresh air,” Shou says smoothly. His voice is devoid of the shakiness and uncertainty it had held just a few minutes prior, and aside from a slight redness to his face and eyes, it would be impossible to tell he’d just been crying. “Still, you’re up earlier than I thought you’d be. I was sure you’d all be asleep a few hours longer.”

Reigen relaxes at this, though he still looks annoyed at the perceived trouble the two had caused him. “Well, it doesn’t really matter, in any case,” he brushes off. “Come back inside, it’s freezing. I need to go to the store and pick up some more food for the next few days, but for now you can eat whatever’s around. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. Teru’s already up, too, but Mob’s still sleeping, so keep it down for now, alright?”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Ritsu sighs in a less-than-enthusiastic manner. It’s hardly freezing, he thinks, but doesn’t bother to say it out loud. Reigen doesn’t bother calling him out on his poor attitude as he nods and disappears from the doorway to get cleaned up.

Shou flashes him a grin, his regular confidence and optimism coming back. There’s a softness to it now, though, a quiet acknowledgement that something had changed for the better. “Guess we should go help Hanazawa hunt for breakfast, huh?” he says.

Ritsu nods. “Yeah. If we hurry, we can have it done by the time Shigeo wakes up,” he adds, slipping his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and stepping back into the apartment. “Guess we’re about to see who’s the best cook out of all of us, huh?”

Shou snorts, clasping his hands behind his head as he follows behind. “I’ll just knock myself out of the ranking right now by saying it’s definitely not me.”

“Good morning!” Teru calls from the kitchen as they come back inside. He’s pulling bowls and cups out of Reigen’s cupboards, and it seems he’s already raided the fridge and pantry, revealing a carton of eggs and some boxed rice. “I’ve already got breakfast going, but I could use your help. Someone come put some water on the stove for me?”

“Now that, I can handle,” Shou says with some confidence, striding over to where Teru’s set aside a pot for the rice. He moves to the sink and begins running the tap, waiting for it to turn hot.

Ritsu watches him as he moves across the kitchen, thoughtful, before finally following him into the kitchen. Teru commands him to start cracking eggs while he measures enough rice for all five of them, and he gets to it with minor grumbling. It’s becoming clear that Teru’s the one with the most cooking experience of all of them, to Ritsu’s chagrin. Well, there was still plenty of time to learn. So he gets to cracking eggs, falling into an easy rhythm with his new friends.

Later, when they’re all crowded around Reigen’s tiny kitchen table eating rice and scrambled eggs out of bowls, the morning is calm again. Once or twice, Ritsu meets Shou’s gaze across the table, and gets a little smile in return. It’s different from the big grins and smirks he typically wears, and Ritsu takes an odd sense of pride in being the one who gets to see them. The little glances and smiles and friendly jabs Shou tosses his way makes him feel light in a way he’s never really felt before, but for the time being he brushes those thoughts away and carries on like nothing’s changed.

There would be plenty of time to think about it later.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #my writing #ritshou #kageyama ritsu #suzuki shou #emotional hurt/comfort #petrichor #let these boys cry and comfort each other

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