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skyler10fic · 2 years

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Visibility

When Carol and Daisy try to get involved in a cliquish corporate LGBTQ group full of gossipy gatekeepers and walking queer stereotypes, Daisy teaches them a lesson in queer inclusion and decides to bring more bi visibility to work.

Trigger warnings for office diversity and equity group social dynamics and measuring up to their standards of queerness. IYKYK haha

Read on Ao3

Submitted for @ficwip Tiny Ship Fleet Fest!

—--------

Traveling back from a work trip on the Sunday after Thanksgiving was hell. The busy airport was draining Carol of the last bit of her energy. The noise and lights and stress of travel grated on her nerves as she rolled her suitcase toward the exit. At least she was on her way home. The train would take half an hour, and then a bit of a walk from there, but at the other end, Daisy would be getting home from work around the same time she arrived.

Her Stark Industries coworker, Lee, had been sitting next to her on the plane and walked alongside her through the terminal. They offered to drive Carol home so she could surprise her wife by being home earlier than anticipated.

It’s only been six months since the wedding, so Carol still thrilled at people calling Daisy her wife. Carol gratefully agreed, and they crossed through the hallway outside the bounds of airport security. But when she looked up, those plans were no longer necessary. There, in the open area on the other side, was her beautiful Daisy, looking anxiously for her in the crowd.

Carol beamed and waved, and Daisy’s smile bloomed at she saw her.

“There you are,” Daisy said as she wrapped her in an embrace that relaxed Carol immediately. All the tension and noise of the airport and poorly timed travel faded as she held Daisy once more.

“I missed you so much,” Carol said and kissed her. “Exactly the surprise I needed today.”

Lee spotted them. “I guess you won’t be needing a ride, then.” They winked and waved goodbye, thanking Carol one more time for her contributions on their work project, before disappearing into the crowd.

“The drive home might take a while,” Daisy warned. “Traffic is pretty bad. Do you want to stop somewhere for dinner first?”

“Yeah,” Carol agreed, just now noticing her hunger since Daisy mentioned it. “Maybe it will clear up by the time we’re done.”

A cold rain had started in the time Daisy had been inside the airport, so they opted for a nearby pho chain. The cozy, quiet restaurant and warm broth did wonders to restore Carol, so she was ready when Daisy asked how the trip had gone. They had texted and shared a few brief goodnight calls throughout the week, but Daisy wanted the real, full debrief.

“I, uh, I think this contract is going to work out,” Carol answered, nodding as she stirred her soup. “They seem to be really on board.”

Daisy furrowed her brow. “Why do you say it like a funeral announcement?”

Carol sighed. “Everything about these guys pissed me off. They were constantly talking over us and only listened when we said things came from Rhodey or from Tony himself. They made jokes about Pepper being too hot to be president of a company. One saw my ring and asked if my husband was okay with me being away so much. Another hit on the waitress in every restaurant. It was gross and weird, but they really liked the project and are willing to put millions into it, so we did what we were there for.” She shrugged, resigned to the situation.

“God, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Carol felt a twinge of guilt for complaining, a feeling that was becoming familiar over the last few days. “Honestly, I had it pretty easy. Lee, though...” Carol shook her head. “I don’t know how they kept things so professional. They were constantly misgendered the whole time. They kept correcting these guys, but it didn’t matter. I was furious for them, but they said it happens all of the time, even back at the office.”

“That’s awful!” Daisy scowled. “I had no idea.” The waiter came by the refill their drinks and check on them, giving Carol time to watch the same guilt she was feeling come over Daisy.

Carol took a sip of her soup and then said out loud what she’d been wondering. “Maybe we need to get involved. At work.”

“Involved how?”

“There’s a group, an advocacy group, that meets at lunch. Lee told me that some of the group can be intense, but it is trying to make changes like this. We could help.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Knowing that Daisy was with her on this lifted Carol’s spirits further. A miserable week away—working through and traveling over a holiday weekend—was ending with something positive after all. They couldn’t solve all of the prejudice in the world, but at least they could raise some awareness and help their fellow queer coworkers feel heard and supported. Sure, coming out and marrying Daisy had cost Carol her already-strained relationship with her parents, but she had had it comparatively easy professionally. Aside from some heteronormative assumptions and industry-standard sexism, of course. But she had handled those all her life. In a company with corporate Pride events, in a diverse part of the city, in a liberal state, the homophobia she encountered in recent years had been mostly confined to rude comments and awkward social interactions. She’d never had to do the work her nonbinary and trans colleagues had to do, and what was worse, until now she’d never been all that aware of what they were up against even in a comparatively safe part of the country. But down in a red state in a conservative STEM bro enivronment, seeing Lee’s courage challenged her. Especially knowing Lee faced it back home in their own “welcoming” office as well.

Carol resolved to chat Lee at work on Monday and ask both how she could help and how she could support Lee personally in their project with these contractors. She wasn’t optimistic they would see much change, much less an apology, but the important part was that Lee knew they weren’t alone.

—----------

Daisy fully supported Carol’s good intentions, but the reality turned out to be that the advocacy group’s December meeting fell on a day Carol and Lee had a follow-up video conference with the contractors and project leads. It was also a year-end pizza party celebrating all they had done that year, meeting in an unfamiliar maze of a building, which made Daisy feel even more awkward about going alone.

But, moved by Carol’s words and her own guilt at not being aware of the issues their own community faced within their company, Daisy went anyway. Free pizza, at least, she reasoned. Couldn’t go wrong there.

She mingled hesitantly, picking at her pizza slice while these coworkers who knew each other well chatted and laughed over inside jokes and ate their salads, hardly touching the pizza boxes on the table in the corner. Daisy couldn’t help but notice all the model-thin and beautiful white women and nonbinary 20-somethings who looked like they had stepped out of a fashion catalog.

“Hey, mind if I sit by you?” she greeted a few coworkers she recognized sitting at a conference table. They welcomed her politely but immediately turned away to continue their conversation.

One gay man she remembered from a company Pride video last year looked at her in curiosity. “This is your first time, isn’t it?”

Daisy smiled in relief that someone was no longer ignoring her. “Guilty! Sorry to just come for the party. We really do plan on getting involved in the next year.”

“We?” a woman from marketing with a stylish short haircut asked. But Daisy didn’t have time to answer. An enthusiastic man in a pale pink suit plopped down and started a conversation about some hot new show Daisy hadn’t seen. Decidedly shut out, Daisy slipped away to grab another slice of the neglected pizza.

“Daisy?” She turned around to see her former teammate at the next pizza box over. “It’s been a long time!”

“Wow, Dedra!” Daisy blinked and tried to recall the last time she’d heard from her. Daisy had been just a college intern when they’d worked together, and Dedra was a tall butch woman with a friendly voice but an intimidating amount of talent at the top of her field (and several hobbies). She led taught workshops at the major data privacy conferences, won various 55+ senior division athletic competitions, and had an office covered in photos of her Harley in gorgeous destinations all over the US and Canada.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Dedra said. “Not that you can’t be, of course, we’re open to all. Just surprised.”

“Yeah! Trying to get more involved,” Daisy explained. “I know I probably should have been around before. I honestly didn’t even know about any of this until last week.” She looked around at the room. She noticed a few were sneaking looks in her direction. Sure, it was hard to come into an established social group, but she saw how their tight friendships probably made them a force for good.

Dedra tilted her head. “And you got married since we last talked?”

Daisy showed off her ring proudly. “I did! Last June. I know, I know, a June wedding, very original,” she joked. “We literally went to Pride on our honeymoon. Well, accidentally. It is a long story.”

Daisy’s queer bonding humor fell flat as Dedra looked even more puzzled. Instead of asking to hear the story, Dedra asked, “Now, remind me, is your husband’s name Fitz? That guy in engineering and dev, right?”

Daisy nearly choked on a bite of pizza. “No,” she coughed. “No, Fitz is a friend, but he’s married to Jemma.”

“Oh!” Dedra handed her a napkin. “That’s right. Jemma was a medic for our Pride parade last year. My road trip girls and I rode our bikes in it. Well, regardless, we’re always grateful for ally involvement. You’re always welcome here.”

Daisy took a moment to process what Dedra meant, but by that point, Dedra was pulled into another conversation. Instead, Daisy returned to the long conference table and picked at the remaining bits of pizza on her plate. The people closest to her glanced at her but continued their conversation about social media influencers she had never heard of and queer in-group/out-group politics. She had to admit to herself, this party was not exactly what she hoped.

“So,” the marketing woman struck up a conversation with her again from across the table, “what made you want to come to our group? Digital or print?”

“Sorry?” Daisy pulled herself from her thoughts to focus on the question.

“It’s a bit of a competition,” the woman explained. “I did the digital promotion and Andy did the posters by the coffee stations. What was most effective for you? Or do you have like a gay kid or something?”

“Neither,” Daisy admitted. “I heard about it through my wife, who heard about it from her coworker, Lee?”

Daisy hoped mentioning Lee would be her ticket into this community, the way knowing a member of a club granted entrance into it. Alas, her attempt at bonding failed again.

“Wait.” The woman tapped the arm of the man next to her, and he turned around to pay attention, as did those next to him.

She didn’t take her eyes off Daisy, however. “Did you say your wife?”

“Yes?” Daisy noticed the group was staring with a bit too much interest, like they were hungry lions and she was their next gossip prey. One of the men left the group and whispered to another, who came over.

“We had a little debate if you were one of us or not,” the marketing woman explained. “But I knew it. Allies never shut up and you’ve hardly said a word.”

“But,” one of the younger men of the group spluttered, “she doesn’t LOOK like a lesb—”

“Okay,” Daisy sighed and got up from the table. She was done with this clique and their speculations and assumptions. She raised her voice to the room. “Hi. Hi everyone. My name’s Daisy, and I’m bisexual.” She realized it sounded a bit like she was joining Alcoholics Anonymous, so she added, “My wife came home from a meeting with some contractors recently who treated our nonbinary coworker with disrespect, and they said it was normal here at the office too, and we just wanted to do something to help. They said you guys did that kind of work here. So. That’s why I came.”

The room stared at her as her speech ran out of steam. Some of them started clapping hesitantly, unsure if she was done or if this was a round of introductions of some sort. Daisy felt her face grow hot and the only thing she could think of to do was get out. She waited a bit, hoping someone would reassure her she was in the right group, but eventually they all returned to their conversations. Time seemed to resume after being frozen. She threw away her pizza plate and walked out, heart racing and breath shallow after that experience.

She didn’t get far before Dedra caught up with her. “Oh Daisy, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know,” Daisy dismissed. She took deep breaths to get her emotions in check.

“They can be a tough crowd, but they really do some good work when they aren’t butting into each other’s personal business for entertainment.” Dedra rolled her eyes in frustration. “Don’t let them get to you, though. You’re right. That’s what this is supposed to be about. Helping each other.”

Daisy stopped in an empty hallway before she got herself lost in the labyrinthine building. “How can I if all people can talk about is if I look queer enough to be ‘one of them’? I mean, I’m bi, I get this isn’t just me having this problem, but I guess I thought—”

Dedra smiled kindly. “You thought marrying a woman would stop the erasure. Yeah, I get that.”

Daisy frowned. “You’re like the queen of butch. What, do they judge you for not being in a softball league?”

Dedra laughed and joked, “No, though I do have to be seen at the hardware store once in a while, just to keep up my street cred.” She winked and continued more seriously. “Daisy, my wife is very feminine and loves it. She had kids with her ex and she drives a minivan, and not a single person at the spa where she works would assume she’d be with someone like me if they didn’t know her. But she’s just as much a part of this community as I am. And you are. You don’t have to fit their ideas of ‘gaydar’ or who is enough to belong.”

Daisy rubbed her neck where tension had built. “Yeah, and it’s not even about me to begin with. Carol and I wanted to get involved because she saw our coworker facing stuff we never have and we realized we’d had it pretty easy here. And she’s had it harder than I have. My whole family supports us. I guess I just wanted everyone else to have that too, or at least not have it be a concern at work.”

Dedra placed a gentle hand on Daisy’s shoulder and looked down at her with empathy. “That’s admirable. But you also deserve that same support and community too. I have to say, a lot of people I think you’d like were missing today. Some trans, some asexual, some more bi folks. You’re not the only one who has felt uncomfortable with that dynamic.” She jerked her head toward the conference room where the party was breaking up. “Our meeting in January is more focused and will have a different tone. Maybe try it again? And bring your wife too. Maybe between you two and Lee and I, and several others in the group who feel the same way, we can make a real change around here.”

Daisy considered it. “I’ll talk to Carol. Maybe I’ll see you then.”

Dedra nodded and walked down the hallway toward the elevator to return to her office. Daisy faced her next challenge: how to get out of this building and back to her own.

—----------

Carol’s heart sank as Daisy recalled the story for her that evening as they waited for their dinner to cook.

“I’m so so sorry.” She leaned against the counter and covered her mouth in horror as Daisy paced the kitchen.

“Dedra says we should go back, but I don’t know. Do you think she’s right that we can really make a difference there?” Daisy paused and checked the roasting pan in the oven.

Carol tried to stay focused on the question instead of the way Daisy’s butt looked bending over in those pants.

“Oh, we’re going back,” Carol insisted. Daisy stood up and walked over to Carol, who pulled her close. “I have some ideas.”

Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Be nice. Some of these people hold a lot of power in the office.”

Carol laughed. “I didn’t mean anything like that. You’ll see.”

Daisy parted her lips to ask for more details of this plan, but Carol used the opportunity to kiss her and they stayed distracted by each other until the oven timer beeped.

—--------

The next day, Daisy had a meeting just after lunch. Carol waited until she knew Daisy would be out of her office and snuck in, even using the back stairs so she wouldn’t walk past the glass conference room the meeting was in. It felt very spy-like until one of Daisy’s coworkers said hi casually.

“Sorry, I think Daisy’s in the big meeting.” He pointed down the hallway. “But they should be done in another hour.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Carol held up the plastic bag she was carrying. “I just have something to drop off for her.”

“Aw, bringing her lunch. That’s sweet.” He held up his empty coffee mug. “Off for a refill. See you later.”

Carol looked around to make sure no one else was coming and closed the door to Daisy’s office behind her.

Taking items out of the bag one by one, she replaced Daisy’s company-issued pen holder with a sparkly rainbow-handled mug they never used at home because metallic paint kept it from being microwave safe. Once all the pens and such were inside, she placed a small bi flag in it and adjusted it to stick out just right, then admired her work. Carol drew a heart on a notepad and wrote her name after it. She never wore lipstick except on the most formal of occasions, but she’d do anything for Daisy, so she sighed and applied a thick layer before pressing her lips to the piece of paper. It wasn’t bad, actually. Not quite like the movies, but definitely kiss-shaped.

She left the note in front of the pen-holding mug and moved their wedding photo on Daisy’s desk next to it. Before she left, she checked the decorative mirror on the wall and used a tissue to wipe the remaining smudged lipstick off her lips.

She closed the door behind her so Daisy would see it before other random passersby and could choose to keep the little display or not. She thought about texting her there was a surprise waiting but didn’t want to interrupt her meeting. The closed door would be a tip-off that something was up.

Carol prayed she was making the right call. She knew Daisy better than anyone and was fairly certain it would make her smile. As far as she knew, everyone on the team who might come into Daisy’s office was well aware of their marriage, from those who had merely seen the photo on her desk to a few who had even been at their wedding. Still. Daisy should see it first and be the one to decide.

She heard Daisy’s voice from down the hall: “Yeah, I’ll grab it and be right back.”

Carol ducked around the corner and hid out of sight.

Daisy paused when she saw her door shut, but then opened it and went inside. After a few nervous seconds for Carol, Daisy laughed.

“Lashawn!” she called to the man Carol had talked to earlier. “Come look at this.”

Lashawn peeked into Daisy’s office and laughed too. “I saw her in here earlier. I thought she was bringing you lunch. I was so jealous.”

“You mean you’re not jealous of my mug?” Daisy teased, standing in her doorway.

“That is adorable,” he admitted. “It’s even got your little ugly flag in it.”

“Uh, my flag is gorgeous, thanks.” Daisy defended. Then she called down the hall in Carol’s direction. “You going to let him talk to your wife like that?”

Carol poked her head out around the corner. “Hi.”

Daisy laughed. “Thank you for the surprise.”

“You like it?” Carol came out of her hiding place and walked toward them. “How did you know I was there?”

“Superpowers.” Daisy shrugged. “And I saw your reflection.” She tapped the glass of the window in the office door.

“Ahhh.” Carol nodded. “Caught me.”

“And yes, I like it. Was this your idea from last night?”

“That and being insufferable newlyweds at the next advocacy group meeting.”

Lashawn chuckled. “Y’all are too cute. I can’t handle it. Bye, Carol.” He returned to his office, leaving them in the hallway outside Daisy’s door.

“I really have to get back to my meeting. I just came back for this report.” Daisy dipped back into her office and grabbed a file. “See you tonight.”

She looked around to make sure the coast was clear and pecked a kiss to Carol’s lips. Office PDA was frowned upon, but no one was watching anyway to be bothered by it.

That afternoon, Carol tried to stay focused on her complicated equations and research but then a text came in.

DAISY: “Keep the lipstick. I have an idea for tonight.”

The text was followed by four emojis: a wink, a lipstick stain, a bed, and the three water drops.

Sexting at work was even more frowned upon than PDA, so Carol simply responded with the overheated red face emoji, the lipstick emoji, and the heart-kiss-blowing face emoji.

How Carol was supposed to focus on work with visions of Daisy covered in lipstick stains dancing through her head, she didn’t know. Luckily, she only had a few hours at the office left to go.

—--------

After the meeting, Daisy tried focusing on her email inbox, but her eyes kept floating to the note Carol had left. She finally slipped it into her desk drawer where it would be safe and not tempt her to think about her plans for the night.

“Hi there!” The cheery greeting from Linda the office admin made Daisy jump. She turned in her chair to face the woman at her door.

Linda continued, “Do you happen to know my stapler might have hopped off to? No worries if it took a little trip in here, just trying to locate it and bring it on home.”

“No, sorry. Hope you find it though.”

“Thanks, sweetie. Hey, can I ask, what is that for?” Linda pointed to Daisy’s bi flag.

Daisy was prepared for this inevitability of being more visible and responded, “It’s a Pride flag, like the rainbow one, you know? This one is specifically for bisexuality.”

“Oh? Huh. Okay. Okay.” Linda seemed to be having a revelation so Daisy gestured to the chair next to her desk. Linda sank down into it. “I have a 15-year-old,” she began. “I’ve been seeing that symbol on her things lately. It started with a button, then a patch on her backpack, then a T-shirt with a cat with those colors.”

Daisy listened as Linda shared. “Has she said anything to you about it?”

“No, I tried to ask, but I may not have had the best approach. I hadn’t dreamed it would be a, uh, Pride-y thing.” Linda blushed a bit. “I was worried it was some sort of drug symbol, so I might have offered to get her help with whatever it was, or if there was any pressure that her friends were putting on her... Now I realize that sounds, well. But you know me, I’d never! It’s just they are always warning us to watch for the drugs. If I’d known, I would have been happy for her, honestly.”

“Ohhh. Yeah.” Daisy grimaced. Still unsure of how to handle Linda’s regrets, she encouraged, “You should tell her you have a coworker who is bi and ask her again. She may not be ready to talk about it, but at least let her know you’re not going to try to change her and that you’re accepting.”

Linda nodded and swallowed. In a small voice, she asked, “This is so embarrassing, Daisy. But I’d rather ask you than put that on my kid coming out to me. What does bi, uh, bisexual, mean, exactly?”

Linda’s earnest desire to be a supportive parent, albeit a clueless one, shone through her vulnerability. So Daisy took a deep breath and answered.

“Well, mostly it means that someone is attracted to more than one gender. So for me, sure, I had crushes on boys, but I also discovered in high school that I like girls too. At first, I was so scared, but my parents assured me that it was okay. They didn’t love me any less if I dated girls, and dating boys wouldn’t make them love me more. Whoever I bought home was welcome regardless of their gender. And then in college, I met Carol.” She picked up their wedding photo and showed Linda. “But, even married to a woman, I’m still bi. And she supports that. Clearly.”

Daisy picked up the little flag as evidence. She waved it playfully at Linda, who took it and contemplated it a bit. She handed it back to Daisy, and Daisy stuck it back in her rainbow mug.

Linda leaned in and whispered, “I haven’t told anyone this, but I did wonder if my daughter had a crush on her best friend. She mentioned the other day if they didn’t have boyfriends in the spring, they should go to prom together, but that’s so far away! And the way that she looks at her friend too, it makes sense now.”

Daisy felt like she was getting somewhere. “There you go, maybe she does and maybe she doesn’t. But I know from experience, having parents who were there for me through all of it made all the difference.”

Linda took a deep breath and stood up. “Thank you, Daisy. This meant a lot.”

“Sure thing. Good luck! With that, and with the stapler.”

“Oh! Right.” Linda had completely forgotten about the stapler by now. She jerked her thumb to the door. “I better go find that. Two dozen conference registration forms to send out before the end of the day.”

Linda bustled out of Daisy’s office and down the hall, stopping briefly at each office.

Daisy sent an amused look to her bi flag. “You are doing your job, I’ll give you that.”

The office heating system came on, fluttering the flag. Daisy, however, imagined it was a wave of pride.

—----------

While there was great satisfaction and pleasure in covering Daisy’s body in evidence of her kisses, and Carol was mutually rewarded in turn, the grand finale of the week’s saga wasn’t limited to giving Carol a sexy use for her previously neglected lipstick.

On Friday night, they headed out on the town for their friend Piper’s birthday at a queer dance club.

“Aw, there’s the old married couple now,” Piper called as she spotted them. “Get these two some drinks.”

Carol had to admit, the old married couple comment wasn’t far off. If it hadn’t been Piper’s birthday, they probably would have canceled to spend the night in, recovering from the last two weeks. Carol was already looking forward to tomorrow, a simple, quiet Saturday in with just the two of them. For the night, though, they were good friends who brought a gift and a card and their readiness to party the way Piper wanted.

As the night dragged on, the alcohol flowed, the music entranced them, and the dancing in the club grew decidedly more sensual. Carol had to admit, now that she was out on the floor with Daisy dirty dancing against her, she was glad they had come to the party. A dude behind Carol tried to grab her hand and entice them to dance with him.

“No thanks,” she shouted over the music and brushed him off. “I’m with her.” She pointed to Daisy, who wrapped her arm around Carol’s lower back possessively.

“Mine,” Daisy claimed with a naughty smile. Carol captured her lips before they resumed dancing. When they did, Carol had the sensation of someone staring at them. She was afraid it was going to be the man, but it was an entirely different group at the edge of the dance floor. Fine, if they wanted a show, Carol would give it to them. If they were shocked by queer couples, they were in the wrong club. She let her ring-clad left hand slip down to Daisy’s butt, and Daisy rolled against her in time with the music.

Some of those staring gestured with their drinks in Carol and Daisy’s direction as they talked amongst themselves. Another pulled out their phone and took a picture when they thought Carol wasn’t looking. This was clearly personal. Carol stopped dancing and Daisy turned to follow her gaze.

“Oh my GOD,” Daisy sighed in exasperation.

“Do you know them?” Carol shouted.

“YES.” Daisy rolled her eyes and pulled Carol off the dance floor toward the group. When they arrived at the gawkers, Daisy greeted them with fake enthusiasm, “Hey! Good to see you guys. We just met the other day. I’m Daisy, remember?”

“Is this your wife?” one of the gay guys who hadn’t believed her asked in awe.

Carol showed him her ring but kept the other arm firmly across Daisy’s shoulder.

“Is this gay enough for you?” Carol shouted as the music crescendoed.

“What?” the guy shouted back.

“Is this gay enough for you?!” she shouted louder just as the music dropped out completely.

The club went wild, thinking it was a party cry. Someone shouted back, “Say it again!” The DJ complied from the mic, “Is it gay enough in here tonight for you, Club Q-ties?!”

The subsequent screaming made it hard to hear anything else. Daisy was laughing, which made it worth it, but Carol was still mad at how the group had treated her wife at their meeting. She and Daisy walked away from their rude coworkers, and they returned to Piper’s table to say goodnight and grabbed their coats. As they reached the exit, a few of the advocacy group members followed. In the quieter night air, they spoke up.

“Hey, we just wanted to say sorry,” one of them started, “for, well, everything tonight and the other day.”

“When we saw you two tonight,” another, one of the youngest, spoke up, “we realized how dumb it was that we were trying to guess who you were based on how you looked at work. Obviously, like it’s work, so…” The sentence hung in the air unfinished, but they got the gist of where it was going.

“Here’s the thing, though,” Daisy replied, “I’d still be queer even if I married a guy. You know that, right? I’d still be bi. Maybe some people you assume are ‘just allies’ are actually part of the community too. Maybe you don’t know their gender based on their work style. Or maybe they are bi or pan or ace or whatever. You see people all the time and just assume…”

Carol noticed a small audience was forming of people leaving the club stopping to listen to Daisy’s speech.

“Being part of this community isn’t about a haircut or what influencers you follow or living up to some bullshit stereotypes or trends that are going to change in a year anyway. We have to support each other as our whole selves. And that means those of us who aren’t just white. Or those who aren’t skinny or don’t look gay on the outside.”

Some of the crowd that had gathered clapped and a plus-sized Black woman said, “Yes, preach!”

The coworker group had learned their lesson and apologized again before heading back into the club. The rest of the crowd turned to listen to the Black woman, who continued where Daisy had left off. Carol and Daisy stayed for a while agreeing with those discussing, but the December night air chilled them to the bone. Eventually, they waved goodnight as the crowd grew and the discussion got drunker and more passionate. “EGG-ZACTLY!” someone shouted and hiccuped loudly. Carol and Daisy giggled as they walked away.

“Oh my god, what a week,” Daisy exhaled as they rode the subway home, leaning on Carol, who held her close.

“I think you were wonderful,” Carol mumbled into Daisy’s hair.

“This is all your fault,” Daisy teased. “You and your damn good heart.” She patted Carol’s chest a little too low.

“Me? You’re the activist one now. You could be the next influencer. Maybe it will be your article they are all gossiping about, hm?”

Daisy snorted. “I don’t know about that. I am pretty happy just being me.”

“I love you being you.” Carol emphasized the “love,” so it was directly in response to Daisy’s “me.”

“I love you too,” Daisy replied happily and cuddled in close to her wife’s side. At one of the stations, a busker played “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and Daisy remembered how gay used to mean happy. If there was one thing they were good at by now, Daisy mused, it was making the yuletide gay, in both meanings of the term.

#daisy johnson #carol danvers #aos #agents of shield #captain marvel #daisy x carol #carol x daisy #wlw #sapphic fic #femslash #lesbian carol danvers #bisexual daisy johnson #skywriting #lgbtq office politics #ficwip #tiny ship fleet fest

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strangcbchavior · 1 year

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( michael cimino / 23 / cis man / he/him ) — did you see HOPE'S MERCER'S BOYFRIEND'S BROTHER, CHASEN KING-REYES, wandering around the mercer hollow today? i heard around town that the BIKE MECHANIC/STUDENT is QUICK-WITTED, and PERTINACIOUS, but also RASH, and CAGEY. people say that they remind them of THE SOFT FLUTTER OF TURNING PAGES, RUNNING RED LIGHTS, and BATTERED LEATHER JACKETS, but how well can you ever really know someone in mercer hollow? ( jay / 26 / mst / she/her)

✧*･ﾟ𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒚

up until he was eight, chasen was cj king. the only people that were ever allowed to call him that were his parents: marian and waylon king. his mom was a physics teacher at the high school two blocks away from their cute, little two-story house in the suburbs. his father owned a landscaping company and planted the azalea bushes underneath the tree house he built with chasen the summer he turned six. it was pretty close to perfect—and then his parents died in a car crash.

the only family he had left was his grandma with early-onset dementia and his uncle with a drinking problem, so he went into the oregeon foster care system. after bouncing around from home to home for a few years ( no family waned a sullen selective-mute who liked percy shelley and edgar allen poe for long ), chasen was dumped into the place for all the old and unwanted kids like him: a group home. he learned pretty quickly that you couldn’t be the kid with the extensive poetry collection in a group home—and you couldn’t cry, not even quietly into your pillow at night. chasen wasn’t interested in being anywhere in the food chain, but he wasn’t going to be the kid who got pushed around, so he laid a kid out with a punch to the gut on his third day there and kicked him until he stopped smirking. he lost his privileges for a month, but it was worth it to be left alone.

when he was fifteen, a strange lady showed up at the home with an even stranger man. apparently, his father wasn't his father. trippy. looking back, it was kind of obvious. people always asked the white couple where they adopted their brown son from. but his dad was his dad, and mr. reyes was just a rich guy who his uncle tried to extort. for a long time, chasen wished that mr. reyes would've just payed his uncle off and left him alone, but things got better slowly. his siblings were...weird, but his dad ended up being kind of cool.

chasen did very well in school, despite transferring so often as a kid. his only friends were books, and he liked it that way. he got a full-ride to liberty after graduating first in his class, and he never looked back.

thanks to his mom, chasen had an early relationship with science. he liked working with his hands and figuring out how to take things apart and put them back together again. it was only natural that he went into mechanical engineering. he started fixing bikes at the local garage for spare change while he worked on getting his masters.

✧*･ﾟ𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

character inspo: ron swanson ( parks and rec ), oscar martinez ( the office ), jason todd ( dc comics ), jess mariano ( gilmore girls ), buttercup ( powerpuff girls ), bob belcher ( bob’s burgers ), louise belcher ( bob's burgers )

chasen likes to keep to himself. if you don’t bother him, he has no reason to bother you, but if you poke the bear...watch out.

he has a quick-temper, but he always tries to punch a wall instead of a person lmao. progress is progress, okay.

he’s usually pretty quiet, and he unfortunately ( or fortunately in his opinion ) has resting bitch face. when he does speak, he is usually being sarcastic or deadpan. def not a people-person, but he’s weirdly good with kids and great with animals bc they lack any pretense lmao.

is a little shit around people he knows well. classic baby of the family shit.

loves poetry and literature ( the romantic, victorian, and modern eras, specifically ), but he doesn’t talk about that lmao. he’s a lot more likely to talk about the cars he restores in his spare time or video games.

not a sports person, but he works out religiously for “health reasons.”

he hates being in charge, but he also hates being told what to do. his ideal work environment is being given a task and a deadline to complete it by without any instructions he needs to follow lmao. he’ll get it done, but he’ll do it his way.

he’s used to people having a certain perception about him, so he usually keeps the smart thing to himself. bc. no one expects anything from an idiot with anger management issues.

oh yeah. he has major anger management issues. in fact, he’s currently IN anger management rn for punching a douche at his dad's last gala

has a v ‘eat the rich’ attitude from growing up lower working class, but now he is rich, so. it's weird. he doesn't like it lmao.

he as a not-so secret soft side if you ever see him with kids or animals.

most of his bluster is a giant show for the people around him, and that’s why it’s so obnoxiously loud.

#mhintro

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allfandomxreader · 2 years

Text

Back to You | 2

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eight months ago, you swore you would never step foot in Hawkins again. When Robin begs for you to come home for spring break, you find yourself agreeing despite better judgment. You’ve missed everyone, you could endure one more week in Hawkins if that means you can see your friends again.

Words: 7.9k

Part: 2/9

Warnings: Language, alluded depression and anxiety, blood, underage drinking

A/N: I hope you enjoy :) this series takes SO much effort into finding all the details so it’s hard to post regularly, my apologies. Feedback is always appreciated and ily <3

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Downtown Hawkins looks almost like it did when you were young. The sidewalks are busy, shops are full of people, and cars fill up parking lots. There’s a life that buzzes throughout the small area, something you thought was forever lost when Starcourt opened. Of course, parts are still deserted. For sale signs hang in a few windows and graffiti is stained on brick walls of abandoned stores, but for the most part, a piece of Hawkins's economy has been restored. It’s a weird sight, an even weirder feeling to see how the town had bounced back so quickly. A part of you is relieved that everyone could move on with their lives after the events of last July. You wish you could join them.

Your car door slams behind you as you step into the cool air. You balance two coffees and a paper bag into your hands walking into Family Video, ignoring the ringing bell when stepping into Robin’s work, she’s expecting you.

“Sorry it took so long, Gloria was working.” You half grumble, wiping your shoes on the entryway mat. “They didn’t have your fancy fritter or whatever, so I got two glazed and two sprinkles.” You say setting the food on the counter and taking out napkins. “Gloria looks good, still talks your ear off though. She said Walter should graduate with honors this year,” you chuckle to yourself. “Didn’t think he had it in him.” You look towards Robin once you have breakfast situated, blood running cold when met with two pairs of eyes. “What are you doing here?” You snap towards Steve.

He looks taken back by your question, shaking his head as if he didn’t hear you right. “Uh, I work here?”

“No shit, I thought Keith was working this morning.” You glance towards Robin who grows pale under your gaze. She pushes herself further into The Last Dragon poster that hangs behind them as if she could somehow disappear into the artwork. You wouldn’t have come if you knew he’d be here, he shouldn’t be here. You practically begged her for his work schedule for the week just to know when to avoid the building like the plague. You have it memorized by now, he’s off today, works tomorrow, closes Monday, and opens Thursday.

Today is your day with Robin, it was even confirmed on the phone last night. You said you’d bring donuts and spend the morning with her while the store was slow to keep her company. You even got one for Keith so he wouldn’t badger you for coming in during operation hours. You’d have lunch at the new deli that opened up a few months ago during her break, she always raved about how much you’d like their sandwiches. Then you’d go home but return at six to pick her up and catch the last showing of Highlander for the evening.

Steve could have his day tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday. You didn’t want to take her away from Steve by any means, that’s not your place nor is it fair. But she knows how you can’t bear to even look at him. You wish that you could be cordial enough to spend time with the two of them again, how it used to be, you really, truly do. But everything was far easier back then. So, you delegated the days you wanted with Robin to protect yourself, to avoid all the pain that came along with seeing Steve Harrington. She said she understood.

“I took his shift.” Steve shrugs.

“I tried to call earlier but nobody answered,” Robin admits, she can’t bring herself to look at you. “But you’re just in time! I think I found or morning movie.” She runs across the floor and to a stand, quickly swiping a film and turning to face you and Steve once again. “Doctor Zhivago.” Her eyes dart between her best friends, trying desperately to alleviate the awkwardness in the room.

“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS.” Steve groans, pushing himself away from the wall.

“But it’s about doomed love.” She whines.

“Oh, well, that’s relatable.” He mumbles the phrase to himself. A lump rises in your throat, you don’t think he meant for you to hear.

“Precisely.” She grins. “Also, Julie Christine is like b-b-bonkers hot in this. Like seriously the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life.”

It’s like you’ve disappeared from the room altogether when they speak. It’s clear their banter hasn’t changed. It seems now it’s only gotten stronger through the months. You feel out of place seeing how they interact with one another, their jokes, their laughter. You were once a part of this, laughing and smiling with the people that meant the most to you in this world. Now, you feel like an outsider. It’s the same feeling you felt at the basketball game, only stronger now that it’s happening up close.

Maybe downtown Hawkins isn’t the only thing that’s changed in the last eight months. Maybe everyone’s moved on, Robin, Steve, Dustin, every single person you were close to and grew up with. Maybe you’re the only one who’s still stuck in the past, consumed by the tragedies that took place in the small radius of Hawkins’ city limits. At this rate, you’ll forever be trapped somewhere that doesn’t exist anymore no matter how far you run. Tormented for an eternity while everyone else has finished picking up their broken pieces and healed.

“I should go.” You blurt, both heads turn to you. “I’ll come back and pick you up for the movie tonight, Robin. And you can have my breakfast, Steve. I lost my appetite.” You begin to turn towards the door before Steve stops you.

“No, Y/N, stay. I’ll go sort these in the back.” He gestures to the cart in front of him littered with tapes. “Enjoy the morning movie.” His voice sounds pained when he speaks, his shoulders deflate as he begins pushing the cart.

“No!” Robin yelps. “This is ridiculous, you said you would be civil.” Robin shoots an accusatory finger in your direction. “And you said you wouldn’t make things weird.” Steve’s head falls, suddenly content with the movies before him. “I have my best friends back in the same room together, which I never thought would be possible. We’re all here now, we can’t change that. Can we just act like adults and put the past aside for just a few hours? Until the movie ends, that’s all I ask.” She pleads. “Then you can go back to hating one another and everything will be normal again. But I don’t want to spend my entire spring break stuck in the middle of you two trying to avoid each other if you happen to be in the vicinity.” Robin’s eyes are full of dread as they dart between you and Steve.

“Fine.” You sigh. “Until the end of the movie.” She grins, giddily grabbing the remote and practically skipping towards the TV to make sure it’s in range. As Steve and his cart move past you, you gently push the bag of donuts toward him. Your breath hitches when he looks at you with confusion, brows furrowed at your actions.

“Got an extra for Keith, all yours.” It’s a small gesture, but you hope Robin counts it as a peace offering.

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning.” A reporter’s voice fills the room with the last news you wanted to hear. You and Steve walk towards Robin in a daze, planting your bodies in front of the screen. “Police have not released the name although we are told they’re currently in the process of notifying the family.”

“Holy shit,” Steve mumbles, eyes glued forward taking in every word she says. Commercials take over then, leaving the three of you in a heavy silence.

“Do you think…” Robin begins, unable to finish her sentence. You don’t need her to continue. You already know the question she wants to ask.

“No, El killed that thing,” Steve answers with confidence, though when he glances your way, you know he too isn’t certain.

“How do you know?” Robin searches for answers that you don’t have. She’s only known about the Upsidedown for a year, you and Steve have far more knowledge but still, you’re clueless.

“Because El nearly died taking out the Mindflayer. She lost her powers, no way it’s still standing.” Steve continues. “Right?” He turns to you, silently begging you to agree, to reassure him that it’s truly over.

“I don’t know,” you say meekly. “I mean I think so? But it’s come back before, who’s to say it won’t again.” You fold your arms around yourself. “Then again, Hawkins is prone to evil, maybe there really is some psycho murderer. It could just be some awful tragedy. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet, okay?”

Without any warning, the front doors swing open sending the shrill scream of the bell throughout the store. Robin and Steve stand straighter, plastering forced smiles, and turn to the sound. Their customer service fronts crumble at the sight of Dustin and Max.

“Hey, Steve.” Dustin pants, rushing towards the counter.

Max runs to you, throwing her arms around your body with force. You almost lose balance. She buries her head into your shoulder, squeezing you as if her life depends on it. “When did you get back?” she mumbles, refusing to pull away.

“Yesterday.” You answer, wrapping your arms around her just as tight.

Max seemed to gravitate toward you once she was initiated into the party. You think she secretly liked having a young woman to look up to. Truthfully, it was nice to have another girl around, it was refreshing after being surrounded by prepubescent testosterone all the time. Of course, you liked El, it was hard not to. Normally, El was too busy with Mike to hang out with you and Max.

Max brought an edge to the group, you always thought she was the missing piece that tied them together. She carried herself with confidence you had never seen, she radiated independence and part of you envied her for it.

In the beginning, she barely acknowledged your existence, which you didn’t blame her for. You only saw her on occasion. Sometimes it’d be in passing at the arcade when you dropped off the boys or when she waited by Billy Hargrove’s car after school when he was running late. That was before you’d witnessed a particularly bad skateboarding accident.

Max was prone to scrapped palms and bloody knees. She knew how to patch herself up, she made that very clear the moment you rushed out of your house to come to her aid. You noticed how her eyes glistened and her tear-stained cheeks, though you never pointed it out. You helped her stand, ignoring her protests through gritted teeth. You didn’t ask why she was on your street so far away from home as you helped her inside. You figured that you’d do the same if you were trapped under the same roof as Billy. The two of you didn’t say much of anything as you pressed a cloth to her wounds and finished off your box of band-aids.

You drove her home that night. She thanked you in a quiet, almost embarrassed voice before getting out of your car. You thought you’d never speak to her again, at least not like that. But when Steve and Dustin became close, you found yourself in her presence more and more.

Over time, she started to confide in you, coming to your home to escape her own. She’d gush about Lucas in between doing her algebra problems and bring magazines to trade while the two of you listened to Madonna on your bedroom floor. She even asked you to drive her to the Snowball because it’d be “Totally embarrassing to be dropped off by my mom.” You brought the perfume she always complimented and slipped her a lip gloss before she ran into the school.

She was one of the hardest goodbyes when you left. The two of you wrote to each other weekly and neither one of you missed your Friday night phone call. One of the main reasons you came back was because of her. You didn’t need Robin to tell you that something was wrong, you noticed it in the previous weeks. You never wanted to be the one to point it out.

“This reunion is great, but we have more important things to focus on,” Dustin says, eyes wild as he looks from Max to Steve.

“You guys see this?” Steve asks, throwing his thumb over his shoulder and to the TV behind him.

“How many phones do you have?”

“Someone was murdered.” Steve’s voice is stern as he looks at the young boy.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin repeats himself again, this time louder, completely ignoring Steve’s words.

“Two. Why?”

“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin adds, the two of them share confused glances before looking at Dustin fully.

“Yeah, three works,” Max speaks up then, nodding towards Dustin as he shrugs off his backpack.

“What are you doing?” Steve begins, just as Dustin throws his bag behind the counter, knocking over tapes in the process. “Whoa, what are you—”

“My pile!”

“No, no, no! My tapes! Dude, what are you doing man?” Steve yelps.

“Setting up base of operations here.” Dustin situates himself in front of the computer, already tapping around on the keyboard.

“Base of operations?” Robin huffs, picking up movies that are scattered around the floor.

“Stop, get off.” Steve whines.

“No, I need it.”

“Need it for what?”

“Looking up Eddie’s friends’ phone numbers.”

“Oh, Eddie. Your new best friend Eddie you think is cooler because he plays your nerdy game?”

“Eddie, yes.” Dustin groans. “I never said that.” He scrunches his nose, eyebrows furrowed as he finally looks at Steve.

“Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day.” Robin huffs, slamming down a sign back onto the counter. You don’t point out that there’s not a single customer in the store yet.

“Alright, look, Robin, I empathize, but this cannot wait until Monday.” Dustin bites back, beginning to scribble with a pencil on a clipboard.

“Oh my God.” Steve presses his hands to his face, growing more irritated by the second.

“What, because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin quips.

“Correct!” Dustin screams.

“Do you want me to strangle him or do you want to do that?” Steve mumbles.

“We could take turns.” Robin forces a smile.

“Look, guys, can we do this later? Let’s get out of their way and find something else to do in the meantime.” You finally chime in, desperate to get out of Steve’s presence. Also, the last thing you want is to spend spring break with an irritated Robin because you couldn’t wrangle in two teens.

“Can you just fill them in while I do this?” Dustin snaps to Max, completely ignoring you.

“Fill us in on what?” Robin spins around looking directly at the ginger. Max’s eyes sweep around the room, looking uneasy as she takes everyone in.

“I saw something.” She sighs, suddenly finding interest in her sneakers.

“What’d you see?” You take a step closer to her, wanting to offer comfort in any way you could.

“Last night, I was taking food out to my dog when Eddie got home.” She begins, “He was with Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Chrissy Cunningham? The cute little cheerleader girl?” You question. You might not know Eddie well and you had never talked to Chrissy, but you do know their social circles would never mix. Not unless Chrissy was one of his customers. She never pegged you as a girl who would do drugs.

“Yes, and she was still in her cheerleading uniform.”

“Okay, so she was probably buying drugs.” Steve sighs.

“Sure, I mean maybe, I don’t know I didn’t really stop her to ask.” Max rolls her eyes. Steve throws his hands up in defense, letting her continue. “Anyway, later on, my power was going in and out. I didn’t really think much of it because the trailer’s a piece of shit, but then I heard—” She takes a deep breath, “I heard a scream.” She chokes out. “I uh, I looked out the window and Eddie was getting into his car and he just drove away.”

“Where was Chrissy?” You prompt, urging her to go on.

“I saw her body on the floor of his trailer this morning.” You freeze, mouth dropping to say something, but no words could come. “The more I thought about it the more it just felt, I don’t know, weird?” She pauses, trying to grasp her thoughts. “He looked scared when he ran outside, like, really scared. I don’t know if it was because he just murdered her or if he saw something.”

“Something as in what, the Mindflayer?” Robin’s voice is cautious as Max looks at her. Max can only shrug in response.

“The only way we’ll find out is if we find Eddie and ask.” She says, that same independence and certainty slowly finding its way back into her body.

“So, let me get this straight,” Steve barks, “Eddie killed a girl, fled, and you’re telling us instead of the cops?”

“Did you miss everything I just said?” Max snaps. “What if it’s back, what if something else killed her and Eddie is innocent? You don’t think that after all the crazy shit that’s happened here it’s possible?”

“I think that I’d probably try to run away too if I just killed a harmless, nice, innocent, young girl. That’s what I think.” Steve yells.

“What about you?” Max turns to you, “do you think I’m crazy?” Her eyes plead for you to answer, for you to be on her side.

The last time you spoke to Eddie Munson was October 1984.

You swayed in the room of drunk bodies, trying your best to keep your own balance. Teenagers slurred their words as they danced around the room. Steve had begged you to come to Tina Thompson’s annual Halloween Bash. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to be a third wheel accompanying Steve and Nancy and you weren’t particularly fond of anyone else that attended either, but Steve Harrington always had a knack for getting his way.

It didn’t help that you were helplessly in love with him. Once upon a time, you and Steve could hang out and get drunk in his basement or play chicken in his pool between shots. Those nights would end with you sprawled on his bedroom floor in a pair of his sweats and a hoodie. You could’ve gotten drunk on his scent alone.

You didn’t know when you fell in love with him, that was hard to pin down. It could’ve been on the swing set in the first grade when you fell off the monkey bars and he held your hand on the way to the nurse’s office. It could’ve been in year six when he declared you as his best friend. Maybe it was after he got his license and only went to school on the days he drove you. You hid your feelings well. So well, that even you didn’t know they existed until it was too late.

When Steve started dating Nancy the year prior, the two of you stopped hanging out almost entirely. The young love birds spent nearly all their time together. Sure, you’d show up to his house parties that consisted of Tommy and Carol, but you always made an excuse to leave early. You couldn’t bear the sight of them cuddled into the arm of his couch.

After Barb’s disappearance, the relationship with your best friend became even more strained. You didn’t blame him. He was focused on keeping Nancy’s spirits high. You didn’t tell Steve about your own nightmares of the Demogorgon or how bad the panic attacks got when the lights flickered. You didn’t want to add to his stress or come between him and his love life. He deserved better than that. So, you buried yourself in your studies, it was all the more motivation to get a good scholarship and the hell out of that town. You were always good at taking care of yourself.

For the third time that night, your eyes followed Steve trailing behind an inebriated Nancy. Just like you, she had far too much to drink. She zigzagged through the partygoers and to the punch bowl stationed in the kitchen. Steve tried to cut her off an hour before, he even looked at you for backup, but you only shrugged. You knew how hard the past year had been for you after everything you saw, you couldn’t imagine Nancy’s feelings after losing her best friend. You thought she handled it quite well, on the outside at least. You didn’t know how you’d survive if it were Steve that was killed in the Upsidedown. She deserved a night to get shit-faced, just like everyone else there.

You watched frozen in place as Nancy’s drink stains her white top with crimson. Even from across the room you saw her face twist in fury before stomping off to the bathroom, Steve was hot on her heels. You made an effort to follow, but Steve waved you off as he passed.

You decided not to worry, he’d tell you about it on the drive home. Instead, you helped yourself to another drink. The night was too early to lose your buzz and it was hard telling how long the couple would be locked away in the bathroom. You busied yourself with watching fellow students play party games. You chose to not get involved yourself.

Your fun for the night was cut short at the sight of him weaving through the crowded room. He beelined from the bathroom and to the front door making his exit. He didn’t try to come find you, he didn’t even look around the room to see if you were still there. He abandoned you, drunk, alone, and with no way home without batting an eye.

You didn’t wait to see who won the game or Nancy stumble out of the bathroom. You marched down the steps, your anger fueled your limbs to make it outside. You stood on the front steps and scanned the street. Steve’s car was already gone. Part of you thought it’d be there, that he waited for you, that he just needed a moment to himself to cool down. But it was painfully clear that you were stranded.

“Fuck.” You grumbled and grew angrier by the second. The walk home was only three miles, you could’ve made it back before three. Your vision was only slightly blurred and for the most part, you could stand. You contemplated sobering up for an hour, but you desperately wanted to be in the comfort of your own room. With your mind made up, you stepped down the steps to return home.

Asphalt burned your knees, blood leaked through the tights of your costume. Your hands stung against the concrete as you tried to push yourself up. The tears started then, hot and sticky on your cheeks as you choked back a sob.

“Whoa, hey, easy there.” A voice rang beside you. Hands gripped your arms as they pulled you to stand. “Took quite the fall, you okay?” You could vaguely make out a mop of dark curls and a denim jacket through your watery eyes.

“I’m fine.” Furiously, you wiped your cheeks. You tried to stand on your own but nearly tumbled to the ground again.

“Wh-okay, let’s get you inside and get a glass of water to sober you up.” The boy said beside you.

“I’m not going back in there.” You said sternly, glaring in the direction of the house.

“Okay, we’ll sit out here.” He guided you to the steps gently and sat beside you when you were seated. “I’m Eddie, by the way.” He said, offering a hand to shake. You laughed then, or tried to, it came out more as a groan.

“I know who you are,” that’s you looked at him. His eyes were full of concern as he watched you. “We’ve been in school together since kindergarten.” You offered a small smile. “But I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He grinned as you wiped the blood from your hand and shook his own. “Showing up a little late, aren’t you?” You asked as you pulled away.

“When they’re drunk enough, they act like I’m supposed to be here.” He said softly. Your smile fell. “They won’t treat me any different. Like I’m one of them for the night.” He continued, avoiding your gaze.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be one of them.” He nodded, more to himself than you before plastering on a grin.

“So, tell me, Y/N Y/L/N, what were you doing out here instead of enjoying the party?” He asked, changing the subject entirely.

“I’m going home, I’ve had enough of this place for a lifetime.” You said and began to stand.

“Do you have a ride?”

“I’m walking.”

“Right, of course you are.” He laughed and followed your lead to stand. You didn’t laugh along. “Oh, you’re being serious.”

“Thank you, for this,” you gestured vaguely towards the steps. “Have fun tonight, they’ve got a keg and everything. Should be somewhat enjoyable for a little while.”

“Come on,” he jerked his head towards the street where his van was parked. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Really, that’s not necessary. I’m okay.” You stepped down to the sidewalk and headed in the direction of your house.

“I’ll walk with you then.” He shrugged and began to follow. You opened your mouth to protest but he stopped you before the words could come. “I’m going to make sure you get home safe, whether you like it or not.” You sighed and nodded. You knew that you couldn’t change his mind.

You leaned into his shoulder when he walked you to his van. He opened the door quickly. His hands swept away burger wrappers to the floor and threw garments of clothes into the back before guiding you into the seat. He smiled, before running to his side and began the short journey.

You thought of Steve as he pulled away from the curb. You don’t know what was said inside the four walls of the bathroom, but you knew it had to have been bad for him to leave so abruptly. You wished he was there to tell you. He shouldn’t have left you, you would’ve never left him behind, no matter how hard something got. You thought you had proved that over the years, and you thought he would do the same.

“Doing okay over there?” Eddie asked and pulled onto the main road.

“Yeah,” you choked. And then the tears started again. You couldn’t bite them back any longer. You tried to muffle the sobs but that only left you gasping for air. Eddie panicked, searching his console frantically. He handed you a crumpled napkin.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not normally like this.” You said between gasps. You took the napkin and blotted your eyes. There was no use, though, the tears refused to stop.

“No need to apologize.”

“He just left me, he really just left me there.”

“Are you talking about Steve?” Eddie asked cautiously after a stretch of silence. You only nodded.

“And it hasn’t just been tonight. He makes up an excuse every time we’re supposed to hang out because he’s with Nancy. We used to go to the movies every Tuesday but now he goes with her. We would study before every test together and now he asks for her help instead. I feel like I lost my best friend and he lives five minutes away.”

“I never really understood your friendship, he’s always seemed like such a dick.” Eddie scrunched his nose.

“He’s not that bad, he’s a good guy. He just doesn’t know it.” You sighed. “It’s just been so hard. Everything has been so hard lately and he has no idea. He thinks that everything is fine and that I’m fine, but I feel like I’m drowning.” You cried harder then.

You didn’t tell anybody about your true feelings. Normally, Steve would’ve known. He was the first person you told everything to. Since the Demogorgon, you bottled everything. Shoved all of the feelings, the anxiety, the nightmares somewhere deep inside you in hopes that you could forget about it entirely. You pretended to be happy for Steve, you listened to his complaints about Nancy and his relationship on the rare occasion that he’d call with a smile on your face. You would do that again and again, not just because you loved him, but because one of you had to hold it together, and you thought it had to be you.

“I’m just so angry with him. He should be to tell that I’ve been different, he should know that I’ve been suffering. I notice everything, when he’s sad I know. When he’s angry, I know. He used to be like that, I didn’t have to say a word and he’d just know. It feels like he just doesn’t care anymore.”

“Then why do you stay friends with him?” Eddie asked softly. “You deserve so much more than that.”

“Because I love him.” You finally admitted out loud. It felt like a piece of the world was lifted off your shoulders. You had one less feeling to keep contained. “It’s not his fault that he loves Nancy instead of me. It’s not his fault that I’m so lonely.” You both let your confession hang in the air as he pulled onto your street. “I’ve never told anyone that.” You admitted in an embarrassed whisper. Eddie didn’t say anything to that. “I’m surprised you’re driving the speed limit.” You said, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“I had precious cargo.” He smiled as he pulled into your driveway. “For what it’s worth, I know how miserable it is to be lonely.” He admitted. “If you ever need a person to talk to or whatever, you know where to find me. I’ll listen, you can trust me with your secrets.” He offered one last smile as you hopped out.

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie, for everything.” He gave you a salute before backing out, down the road from which you came.

“No,” You say finally. All eyes are on you as you speak. Max visibly deflates, letting out a sigh of relief. “Eddie wouldn’t do something like this.”

“Like you would know, you’ve never even talked to the guy,” Steve says, throwing his hands into the air.

“That’s not true.” You fire back. “I’m not saying we were friends by any means, but I know him well enough to know he’s not a murderer.” You direct your attention to Max. “What do we need to do?”

“We should start by calling his friends to see if they’ve seen him, maybe they know something.” Dustin starts. “Steve, bring the phone from the back up.” Steve rolls his eyes at the order but complies.

“Do you really think they’ll tell us anything?” Robin asks.

“I bet they’ll tell us more than the cops. Eddie’s name hasn’t been released yet. Nobody will know why we’re calling.” Dustin grabs the phone next to him already punching in numbers. Steve reappears from the back and places the phone on the counter. Robin reaches to plug in the cord before you stop her.

“Go, do your job. We’ve got this handled.” You offer a small smile, grabbing the list of names Dustin had already written down. Robin scampers off to help customers as you situate yourself in front of the phone.

You hang up the phone after the third conversation. Nobody has seen Eddie, it’s like he dropped off the face of the earth. You know this isn’t a good sign. Guilt creeps into your stomach at the thought of him. He was so kind to you that night, part of you always wanted to reach out again, to thank him sincerely but you never got around to it. You’d see him in the cafeteria and always smiled or gave a wave, but your brief friendship ended that night.

“Hey, guys, I might have a lead,” Max says. You and Dustin whip around at the news.

“Seriously?” Dustin grins.

“Yeah. Apparently, Eddie gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick? And sometimes Eddie crashes there.” She continues.

“That’s good, right?” You smile at Dustin. “Where does Reefer Rick guy live?”

“See, that’s the thing. No one knows. He’s more of a legend than someone that people actually know.” Max says, you can’t help but sigh.

“What about a last name?” Dustin urges.

“I don’t know that either.” Max frowns.

“I bet the cops know a last name.” Steve mumbles. All heads turn to him.

“What?” Max squints her eyes, shielding them from the outside sun as she looks him over.

“Cops. I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.” Steve explains.

“The cops?” Dustin stands from his seat. “Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?”

“I mean I just think at this point they should probably be filled in on what we know, what’s going on.”

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin crosses his arms, begging Steve to continue speaking.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit. I just, you know,” he claps, rubbing his hands together out of awkwardness. “I just don’t think we can rule it out.”

“That’s precisely what we’re trying to do here, Steve,” Max says, rolling her eyes.

“And maybe we’d have a little bit more luck if you spent less time trying to find a girlfriend,” Dustin’s words make Steve’s eyes go wide. You don’t miss the quick glance Steve sends your way. “And more time trying to find Eddie!”

“Oh, well somebody has to attend to the customers!” You roll your eyes at Steve’s comeback. You tried your hardest to ignore the way he was talking to a customer just moments ago. He was practically foaming at the mouth while selling Doctor Zhivago to her, he nearly crumbled learning about her boyfriend.

“Especially if they’re babes, right?” Robin winks. She stands up straighter, smirk falling when you catch her eye.

“Hey, not fair. Okay? I attend to all the customers equally. Babes and non-babes alike.” The chime of the door goes unnoticed by Steve as a man clad in leather and spiked hair wanders in. “We’ve got a very big selection in here, okay? It can be super overwhelming for these people.”

“Yeah, it can be.” Robin spins around rushing towards the computer. She’s got a glint in her eye, the kind of look she only gets when she’s connected the dots and has an idea.

“What are you doing?” Max asks as you crowd around the computer.

“Maybe we don’t need a last name.” She clicks around, focused on the screen. “Twelve Ricks have accounts here.”

“That’s a lot of Ricks.” Max mumbles.

“So, let’s narrow it down.” The screen flashes account names and rented movies as Robin forcefully types. “Rick Alderman’s latest rentals are Annie and Dumbo. What are the chances our drug dealer has a family?” She asks, turning to look at Max.

“Not likely.” Max and Dustin both shake their heads.

“Alright. Rick Conroy, Sixteen Candles, Teen Wolf, Romancing the Stone.”

“No.” Max and Dustin say simultaneously.

“Okay. Rick Joiner. Mask, Footloose, and Greece.” You all shake your heads at the options. “Rick Kimbrough. The Blue Lagoon and Splash.” You all share a laugh, still shaking your heads. “Rick Lipton, Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Cheech & Chong’s next movie. Cheech & Chong’s Nice Dreams. Cheech & Chong’s Up in Smoke.”

“Bingo!” Dustin laughs.

“Lipton?” Max asks.

“Spelled like the tea. 2121 Holland Road.” Robin confirms.

“That’s out by Lover’s Lake,” Dustin adds.

“Middle of nowhere.” Max shrugs.

“That’s a perfect place to hide.” Robin grins, hopping off the seat and towards the door. “Let’s go find Eddie.”

The five of you race outdoors and follow Steve to his car. There’s a hesitation as Robin almost jumps in the backseat, the same way she would have a year ago. You shake your head, letting Max slide into the middle before you shove yourself into the backseat with her and Dustin.

It’s nightfall by the time you arrive at the address. Dustin’s the first one out of the car, taking the lead and running to the front door, everyone trails behind him. He rings the doorbell once, twice, then repeatedly once he grows impatient.

“Dude.” You nudge him.

“Okay. Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.” Steve’s voice rings annoyed by Dustin’s antics.

“Eddie! It’s Dustin!” He screams, banging on the door.

“Great.” Steve grumbles.

“Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear, we just wanna help.” He bangs again when there’s no response.

“Dude, seriously be quiet.” You try to pull him away. “Do you really think either of them is going to come to the door with open arms?”

Robin peaks in through the window with her flashlight, shushing Dustin but to no use. He rings the doorbell over and over. You almost lose your mind at the sound.

“Rick! Reefer Rick!” He calls, banging on the door harder.

“Don’t scream that!” Steve hisses. “He’s not here.”

“Maybe he could be really high,” Dustin whispers.

“Hey, guys?” Max calls a few steps away from the group, you hadn’t noticed she wandered off at all. The four of you go to her, following the beam of her flashlight to where a small building is illuminated by a single light.

You all carry yourself cautiously and quietly towards the building. No lights or movement come from the inside. You try to stay close to Dustin. Your senses are on high alert, you try to quickly map an escape route and clutch your flashlight tighter. It wouldn’t do much as a weapon, but it’d definitely hurt to be struck by one.

“Hello?” Robin calls, pushing the door open. “Is anyone home?” The door creaks as everyone follows her inside. Each of you shines your flashlights in different directions, taking in the space.

“What a dump.” Steve comments.

The floorboards groan underneath the weight of your footsteps. You dodge tools and step over debris as you sweep the room with light. From beside you, Steve jabs an oar he’s found into the boat. You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of the tarp’s crinkling.

“What are you doing?” Dustin hisses.

“He might be in here.”

“So take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave you take the tarp off.” Steve fires back. You roll your eyes, choosing to tune out their arguing and continue to look around the dark room.

“Hey, look over here,” Max calls. You and Robin join her at a table, taking in the wrappers and empty beer bottles. “Someone was here.”

“Maybe he heard us, got spooked and ran.” Robin offers.

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin jokes.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight—” You scream as something lurches from the bed of the boat and takes ahold of Steve. “Whoa, wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!” The three of you rush to the commotion as Eddie slams Steve into a beam, holding a shattered bottle end to his throat.

“Eddie! Stop!” Dustin screams. “Eddie! It’s me. It’s Dustin.” He pants. You grab onto a piece of his shirt, trying to keep him from moving forward. “This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?” Steve nods, careful to not bump the blade against his neck. “Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” Dustin demands. The wood clangs to the ground with a thud, the sound only making Eddie grip tighter and Steve groan in pain. “He’s cool! He’s cool!”

“I’m cool, man. I’m cool.” Steve whimpers.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks finally.

“We’re looking for you.” Dustin’s voice is soft as he speaks, arms out trying to comfort his friend.

“We’re here to help.” Robin chimes in.

“We want to help you, Eddie.” You say softly. Eddie’s eyes are wild when he looks at you, taking each of you in.

“Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band.” Robin holds up an invisible trumpet pretending to play. “This is my friend Max, the one who never wants to play D&D.” Max awkwardly brings her hand up to wave. “And Y/N, my old babysitter? The one I’ve told you about.”

“Hi, Eddie.” You try to ignore your racing heart and smile.

“Eddie, we’re on your side.” Dustin continues and you nod. “I swear on my mother. Right, guys?”

“Yes, we swear on Claudia.” You say.

“On Dustin’s mother.” Steve cokes.

Eddie pushes Steve away, letting him fall back into the post to catch his breath. The entire room sighs in collective relief. Eddie takes a few steps back and you and Dustin follow as Robin checks on Steve. Eddie slides down the wall, pulling his knees into his chest.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” You whisper. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Eddie, we just want to talk.” Dustin lowers himself to eye level, reaching for the bottle in Eddie’s hand. Eddie quickly jerks his hand as a warning.

“Dustin,” you whisper. He throws his arm out, pushing you away. Deep down, you know that Eddie wouldn’t hurt Dustin, but considering whatever he saw, whatever he went through, you don’t know how he’ll respond to everyone’s presence. “Maybe just take a step back.”

“We want to know what happened.” Robin begins.

“You won’t believe me.” Eddie sniffles, shaking his head.

“Try us,” Max says.

“You can trust us.” You crouch beside Dustin. “You can trust me with your secrets.” You aren’t sure if Eddie remembers his own words from so long ago, but when he looks at you, with a pained look in his eye, you can only assume that he does.

“She wanted to buy drugs.” He admits, only looking at you. “I thought she meant weed but she wanted something stronger, that’s why we came to my place.” He explains. “I left for a second, to go find it and when I came back, she—she was in this trance. Wouldn’t move or anything. It was like she couldn’t hear me.” He sniffles again. “And then her body just like… lifted up into the air and, uh,” he stumbles, trying to continue. “And she just, like, hung there. In the air.” His lips tremble. “And her bones… uh, she…” he clamps his eyes shut, shaking his head to rid the painful memory. You ache making him relive it. “Her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man, it was like, there was something like, inside her head pulling on them.” He looks around at the others. “I—I didn’t know what to do, so I—” he struggles to speak as a realization comes over him. “I ran away, I left her.” His eyes soften as he looks at you. “I left her there.” A knot swells in your stomach at his confession. “You all think I’m crazy, right?” He asks, breaking his stare to wipe his eyes.

“No. We don’t think you’re crazy.” Dustin starts.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” Eddie screams.

“We’re not bullshitting you.” Max states.

“We believe you,” Robbin says. Eddie only scoffs.

“Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little difficult to take.” Dustin begins.

“O-okay?” Eddie whimpers.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… Cursed?” Eddie stares, soundlessly begging for him to continue. “They’re not way off. There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asks, frantically looking over everyone’s faces for a sign of a lie.

“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max whispers.

“These monsters, from this other world, we thought they were gone. But they’ve come back before, and that’s why we needed to find you.” Dustin says.

“If they’re back again, we need to know.” Max takes a step closer to Eddie.

“That night, did you see anything?” Robin questions.

“Dark particles, maybe?” Max lists, trying to make him remember the details.

“It would almost look like dust. Swirling dust.” Dustin adds. Eddie shakes his head.

“No man, there was nothing you could see, or uh, or touch.”

“What about sounds?” You prod. “Like screeches or a weird ticking growl?” You can still hear them, even after all this time, the sounds of those monsters are etched into your memory. You shrug off a chill thinking about them. Eddie shakes his head once more.

“You know I tried to wake her, man. But she couldn’t move. It was like she—she was in a trance or something.” Eddie adds.

“Or under a spell.” Dustin quips.

“A curse,” Eddie confirms.

“Vecna’s curse.” Dustin continues, connecting dots you didn’t know were in place.

“Who’s Vecna?” Steve asks from the corner.

“An undead creature, of great power.” Dustin answers.

“A spell caster.” Eddie’s eyes are distant as he says it.

“A dark wizard,” Dustin concludes.

“Great,” Steve mumbles, rubbing his hands against his face. “That’s just great.”

“We’re going to fix this, okay?” Eddie looks at you again.

“How?” His eyes search your features for an answer you don’t have.

“Holy shit,” Dustin squeaks, his head yanking up from looking at his wristwatch. “I’m past curfew. Shit, shit, shit.” He stands making his way toward the door. The others follow quickly behind him. You stand, lingering for a moment before offering a hand to help Eddie up.

“Looks like the roles are reversed.” You chuckle when he stands, his lips don’t twitch in a smile. “We’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll hopefully have a plan by then.” You say as you reach the door.

“I didn’t want to leave her. We both know what it’s like being left behind. I promised I’d never make anyone feel like that and I did.” He sniffles quietly.

“Anyone would’ve done the same thing.” You want to reach out to comfort him, but your words have to be enough, the same way his were. “I’m so sorry this happened.” That was all you could say. “I don’t know how we’re going to fix this, but we will. We always do. I promise.” Eddie nods as you leave, closing the door behind you.

You leave him standing in the middle of the building frightened and alone. You too, promise to never make anyone feel like this again.

Forever tags: @superfrankie111 // @rueinn // @lemonadeorange73 // @simplechicwithacrazedheart // @youshutthefuckupville // @captainpeggy40 // @alexdamereysmith // @llatpdnmm // @dummiesshort // @quaksonhehe

Steve Tags: @empathetic-vibrations // @loulouloueh // @soulmatecashton

Back to You Tags: @p-rspective // @gloryekaterina // @boomitsallie1 @sundarksposts // @themyththelegendthenerd

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fluffykitteninabox · 2 years

Text

I like ASMR

I like obey me

So here's some HC about what type of asmr the demon brothers would listen to (also known as me projecting my personal preferences onto my favourite characters):

Lucifer

Soft whispers and mouth sounds in general. Watches anything that's labelled as "brain massage". Paper and wood sounds. Room ambience like rain hitting the windows and fire crackling. Surprisingly it doesn't really make him sleepy but he likes to have something as a background noise when he's doing paperwork (also he likes the tingles).

Mammon

Gentle but fast paced tapping. Scratching on different surfaces. Likes loads of different sounds but he can't listen to the same thing for too long. Fidget toys, kinetic sand and slime. Colour reveal soap cutting (only colour reveal soap cutting)

Watches anything that's tagged #asmr for people with adhd

Or #asmr for people with short attention span

Surprisingly, art restoration videos (or any item restoration asmr really. It satisfies his sin somehow because he gets to see the once valuable items return to their former glory)

Leviathan

Anything that involves water or liquid sounds in general. Ice.... MINECRAFT ASMR!!! Gentle tapping on glass or metal. soft and slow asmr. Anything that involves Fidget toys of course. (He and Mammon watch those types of videos together sometimes) If he finds a video that he likes a lot he WILL brake the replay button. Asmr roleplay but only if the scenario is interesting. He struggles trying not to fall asleep with the roleplay videos though because he wants to listen till the end. He has actually made some asmr let's plays on his DevilTube channel as well. (He doesn't get the opportunity to do it often though, because the HOL is rarely silent)

Also he is the one that introduced the rest of the family to asmr

Satan

Writing on paper or sketching, scratching and tapping (but mostly scratching) sounds on wood. Cat asmr!! (Cats eating, cats meowing, cat spa videos). Reading in a soft whispery voice. (But if the book isn't to his taste he won't watch the video)

Asmo got him into soap and wax carving.

Keyboard typing. Levi got him into that accidentally because they were researching for a school project once and Levi was typing on the keyboard and Satan was already tired from the rest of the day's happenings, so he almost fell asleep.

Asmr roleplay but again only if the scenario is interesting.

Asmodeus

Perfume/mist spraying, stroking and scratching different types of fabric. Feathers and brushes directly stroking the microphone (I have no idea if this has a name but I've seen it in videos). Soap cutting and crushing. Foam...just foam in general! Hair brushing and cutting.

He likes art restoration too, Mammon introduced him to it. But he doesn't like other restorations because he doesn't like the sound the metallic tools make. But art restoration is nice, and he gets to look at a beautiful painting at the end.

Beelzebub

Crunchy dry sounds like potato chips being crushed, or those weird videos where people put different kinds of things in shredder machines. Likes the ones with cute animals involved like those with turtles trying to eat strawberries and lettuce. He and Levi once spent a full hour replaying the same video of a duck drinking ice water. They both looked so hypnotised by it that no one spoke or even came close to them until they moved on their own.

Belphegor

Soft whispers and slow tapping. Surprisingly hair brushing. Asmo tried to style his hair once and he really liked how gentle he was with the brush, so he tries to recreate the feeling by listening to hair brushing asmr. It's not the same as the real thing though.

Asmr roleplay (doesn't really care what the scenario is, in fact he even listens to asmr in different languages that he doesn't understand. All he cares about is how many tingles he gets and how fast it can put him to sleep. His favourite ASMRtist is Beel of course! Whenever he's eating something crunchy he'll go sit next to him so he can listen to real life asmr. He doesn't even care if there's crumbs all over him afterwards.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #asmr

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clorofolle · 3 years

Text

Miscellaneous Deltarune ch. 2 thoughts under the cut because I LOVE reading these from other people

It slaps. So hard

I personally thought chapter 1 was a bit weak overall – still had loads of fun playing it, and replayed it a bunch, but it left me hoping Toby and his team would do something a little different in the next chapters. And OH BOY did they deliver with this one!!

The music!!! Is so!!! Good!!!

The characters! The dialogue! Chapter 1 got so many chuckles from me but I still feel Chapter 2 managed to be even better on this front.

The weird/snowgrave route is as disturbing as it is exciting, especially since we know there's only gonna be one ending.

The Player's relationshop with Kris is... interesting? I can't parse it. It doesn't feel in line with Toby Fox to make a game where the only moral thing to do for the in-game people is not to play it at all, like we can only do bad by possessing a kid who would be better off without us...? But also, Kris is so much their own person, I feel like I am intruding, or making them do things they wouldn't usually – even in Pacifist. Like – I wish them and Ralsei to be friends, so I make Kris hug Ralsei. But is Kris okay with that? What would have they done?

Especially since it seems like Kris doesn't like Ralsei all that much...? Kris drinking Ralsei tea is the only combination where one of the trio drinking the tea of another one restores 60hp and not 120. What's up Kris? What does he tell you while I'm not looking? You ok? You know you can talk to me, right? And that you can just. Ditch the soul for a bit if you wanna play the piano and go out with friends. Yo it's chill man

We all already knew Toby was inspired by OFF for a lot of stuff, but imho this is the first time it really shows!! Maybe because some stuff had been there even before Undertale. Queen being simply Queen, the Swatchlings have big OFF vibes... but especially the Acid Tunnel of Love! I think one of the imagery OFF fans are most familiar with is the Batter traversing these rivers of meat on a creepy duck/swan-like Pedalo. I've read some theories about how we're actually playing the Bad Guy, since we & Kris are the Knight, and will end up having to fight everyone else. While I don't think that's the case at all... I can't help but feel it would be *cool* to have a sort of Batter situation with Kris, hehe.

I think since Toby knows that by now, pretty much the whole fanbase is looking out for signs of Gaster, they might be,,, tricking us a little? I definitely thought that the man who “spoke so eloquently” and gave “blueprints” to Sweet Cap'n Cakes might've been him! Turns out it was just Roulx Kaard, who might look a bit the part but is definitely not Gaster, haha.

On the same vein... I think general fandom consensus is that Gaster is the Knight, no? The games sort of keep pointing at it. My guess is, it's gonna be more complicated. He's leading us on.

PAPYRUS. papyrus Papyrus PAPYRUS

I am so worried for that little skeleton and yet!!! so excited!!!

The fact that we couldn't see him yet gives me high hopes Toby has big plans for this Best Boy. After all he was by far the weirdest (lore-wise) character in UT, the one with the most dialogue after the Narrator, inexplicably loved by all and any fourth wall breaking anomalies (Flowey, Toby, and me <3)

Also his design was based on Dedan from OFF! What a funny piece of information. How fun that he was based off a villain. Nothing could go wrong!!!

My belief is that he's gonna be an interesting character, and we're gonna meet him in the Dark World. Fight him probably!!! But we're gonna be his friends at the end.

And last thing... Sans has not once mentioned the name Papyrus. Papyrus just. Isn't in the game so far

Which is the most troublesome thing so far,,,

Especially since. I feel there might be a thing with siblings or similar people with similar names and us players being confused about it...? Catty UT is here, but our peer and likely to be in adventures is Catti. Noelle has/had a sister we yet know nothing about, except her full name might be December. We were promised we would soon meet Suzy, yet only met Susie so far. We haven't seen Asriel in the game, but Ralsei sure looks how we imagine Asriel to, huh?

Can't wait for Toby to troll us. Sans is gonna open the door to his house like hey meet my brother. He's a little shy because he only speaks in sign language. His name is Gaster. Oh? Wasn't he who you were expecting?

and then Papyrus shows up and kicks our asses and in this other timeline he's the final boss or something and we could've never seen it coming

#last point is admittedly a shitpost. but toby p lease i need something like this from himmmm he's my fav to speculate about!!!!#deltatune #deltarune #not gonna delete that deltatune tag bc i love it.#deltarune spoilers #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune chapter 2 spoilers #papyrus #kris deltarune #papyrus deltarune #deltarune 2 #deltarune discussion #deltarune 2 discussion #deltarune chapter 2 discussion #deltarune thoughts #dr ch 2

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kim-seungmine · 4 years

Text

moonlit

title: moonlit

characters: fem!reader x lee minho (lee know) of stray kids feat. bang chan, kim seungmin, hwang hyunjin, kid!yang jeongin

genres: exes to lovers au, romance, angst, based on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, chan’s one sided love if you squint real hard, bff!seungjin.

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking and food, mentions of insecurity/emptiness, minho is lowkey a flirt (and smooth af), this one is WORDY, sometimes nonlinear (flashbacks marked in italics, phase 2 completely happens in the past), lots of inner conflicts, watch me repeat the same words again and again.

word count: 14k

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, you have lee minho clinically erased from your mind... only to be reminded that while memories can be erased and forgotten, feelings will always demand to be felt.

Phase 1: Awakening

You clamp your shaking legs together, desperately trying to look like you’ve got it all together. The carton box on your lap feels heavier with each passing second as you wait for your name to be called. When the receptionist finally tells you to enter the consulting room, your head is full of him. His laugh, his voice, his touches, his smile, his empty promises, his lies, his last words…

This is why you’re doing this. You want him gone.

“Miss Y/N, please have a seat.” The doctor, Seo Changbin, motions at you to sit at the back of the room. A nurse places a tripod in front of you, setting the camera so it will capture your whole body. “Your sessions will be recorded, and we will keep all the recordings as archive. These recordings are confidential unless they’re needed for national security purposes. And, of course, if you wish to get your memories back in the future.”

Dr. Seo smiles, the calming tone in his voice doesn’t match the weight of his words. “You… you can restore the memories back?”

“I can’t,” he answers. “Patients are usually able to remember some past memories when triggered. And at least you will be reminded of why you want to do the erasure procedure in the first place. There are a lot of patients who regret doing this, and the last thing we want is to get sued because people make the wrong choices for themselves. I’m sure you have already read that part on the consent form.”

Great, you’re going to stop him from messing with your head by letting strangers literally damaging your brain.

“I won’t sue you. Let’s get this over with.”

“Sure.” Dr. Seo points at the camera. “Now, tell us everything, starting with who you want to erase.”

You grip your box tighter, as if to check if all the things inside still cause you pain no matter how many times you’ve seen them. You could have done this the normal way—crying, cutting your hair, even turning to God for help.

The thing is, one of these days the pain is going to swallow you up, and then you’ll be left with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell.

You should have been able to do this the normal way, but you’re too weak. Can’t you be weak for once? You can, right?

Clearing your throat, you stare at the lens. “Lee Minho.”

“Lee Minho,” you repeat. Louder. Clearer. “I’d like to erase Lee Minho.”

Chan finishes his beer in one gulp while you’re still struggling to open yours. It’s a shame, really—you drink almost every week, he drinks twice a year. He tosses the now empty can to the trashcan before opening another with ease, handing it to you. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you take a sip and watch him tear a pack of dried squids open.

“You’ll never go to those parties again,” he says. “I didn’t know my parents invited you because of that.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. They meant well.”

He pulls his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe they said that in front of everyone! You must’ve been so shocked. I’m sorry.”

You grimace, the unwanted attention was indeed quite embarrassing. Enough to make you politely reject the next time Chan’s parents invite you to another gala. Mr. and Mrs. Bang have always been supportive of their eldest son, letting Chan started his own business instead of taking over the family business. Chan’s mother had called you a few days prior, asking you to accompany her son since it would be a good opportunity to “build connection and expand your business.”

You and Chan did exactly that, so it wasn’t like they were lying. But Chan’s parents also used the opportunity to try to convince the two of you that you’re match made in heaven.

“Can we drop this?” You glance at your watch, stretching your limbs before rising from your seat. The traffic light turns red and you signal at your best friend to walk faster. “I keep getting flashbacks of CEO Kang’s son laughing at us.

Chan follows suit, placing his hand at the small of your back before crossing the street. You let out a relieved sigh when you reach the warm subway station. “Kang Younghyun has more embarrassing incidents than ours combined,” he scoffs. “This is nothing compared high school. No worries.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asks as you train is arriving. “I should’ve brought the car instead of letting my parents drive us to the party.”

You click your tongue at him. “Then you’ll miss the last train.”

“I can take a cab home. You always fall sleep on the train it’s giving me headache!”

“Bang Chan.”

The train stops and opens its doors. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Just don’t fall asleep.”

“No promises!” you tease, stepping into the train a second before it closes. You wave at Chan until he disappears into a small dot before choosing the seat beside the door. The train is almost empty; standing near the door is a high school student listening to an online lecture and sitting across you is…. the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. He meets your eyes for a second before shifting his attention back to his phone again, leaving you slightly disappointed.

You despise socializing at parties but you want the Hottest Man Alive to talk to you? Y/N you’re so pathetic.

The sight of a bundle of name cards inside your purse is what gives you a reality check, various names and faces are popping up in your mind. Only now you feel how exhausted you are, parties and talking to a bunch of strangers have never been your thing. You take your platform heels off just as the train makes its stop, one of them almost hitting Hottest Man Alive as a result.

Apparently God has decided to make you the embarrassment icon of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” you panic, about to reach your flying heel when he stands up and picks it up. He silently places it in front of you before pulling out a card out of his pocket.

“It’s okay, just check out our café when you have time.” Hottest Man Alive slips the card into your palm, rendering you speechless with his bashful smile.

Oh, you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

You run your eyes over the black embossed letters once more, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat as you mentally convince yourself that he does want you to pay his café a visit. Your whole life has always been normal, so alarmingly calm and peaceful it makes you question your whole existence. Sometimes it feels like you’re living in someone else’s dream, foreign and temporary. Uncertain and insecure.

Last night was… weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt that attracted to someone before, not even your ex-boyfriends. In that moment, you felt unstoppable, carefree, happy… everything that wasn’t you.

Sadly, that moment didn’t last long and now you’re back to your overthinking self. What if he was just playing with you? Will he find you desperate or, God forbid, easy if you actually show up at his café? But what café owners don’t want a new customer? Besides, you’re bringing Chan, so Hottest Man Alive (or Lee Minho, according to his name card) is getting two new customers. If anything, he will be thanking you and hoping you will come again, just like any normal business owner.

“Hey,” Chan calls out to you, knocking on the car window. “We’re here, daydreamer.”

You shove the card back into your wallet, met with Chan’s confused eyes when you finally open the door. “You okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You look so out of it.”

Chan knows nothing about your encounter with Hottest Man Alive; he would’ve freaked out if he knew you wanted to visit a café because a random (handsome) stranger told you so. “Just thirsty. It’s so hot,” you mumble.

Eat Here Café gives off the homey atmosphere that immediately calms your nerves. You quickly scan the whole building, looking for any sign of Hottest Man Alive. You feel lighter yet bummed that he’s not there, except for some photos of him with a group of children pinned on the wall.

You choose a table near the cashier. “I’ll order. What do you want?”

Chan shrugs. “Any kind of cake.”

The puppy-like part timer greets you with a smile when you reach the counter. “Good afternoon, what would you like to order?”

“Injeolmi bingsu and Coke, please. Oh, and a vanilla cake!”

He repeats your order politely and you decide that you like the boy, taking a glance at his nametag that says Kim Seungmin. You never really pay attention to part timers before, but this one is remarkably efficient, polite, and very very cute (in a “I’d like to adopt him!” way).

You drop some cash into the tipping jar, the twinkle in Seungmin’s eyes feels so rewarding that you’re ready to put it into your “little things that made my day” on your journal later. He hands you the buzzer with a bright smile. “Please wait for your order!”

“Your stingy ass never gives such a generous tip. Did he flirt with you or something?” Chan marvels—loud enough to get Seungmin’s attention—when you return to your table. There are times when you regret being Chan’s business partner, but you realize that you’ve invested so much of your time and energy into building the company. That, and Chan is actually a dependable friend when he’s not trying to ruin your image.

Chan gets your order after the buzzer vibrates, digging into his cake right away. “Whoa this is good!” he exclaims. “How did you find this place?”

“…Instagram.”

“Do you think they hired a branding consultant already?”

You shake your head. “They post pretty regularly but I don’t think so.”

Chan’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think we should ask to meet the owner or something?”

“Hey Seungmin, iced Americano please! And remind me to pay your bonus later.”

The faintly familiar voice stops you from answering, your eyes wildly searching for the source. And there he is… the one you’ve been dreading to meet and also the one you’ve been yearning to meet. Lee Minho saunters into the café with his charming bunny smile and soft eyes, earning everyone’s attention except for Seungmin who’s still taking orders.

Seungmin only replies with a short hum, not taking his eyes off the cash register. You glance at Minho, mentally surprised by the way he doesn’t seem to be bothered with how Seungmin treats him.

“Quit staring before you start embarrassing yourself,” Chan warns you in the most boring tone. “I think he’s the owner.”

You almost spit out your drink. “I’m not staring!”

Minho exchanges some words with Seungmin before focusing his attention to all the customers. Your bingsu is melting, but you still follow his every move through your peripheral vision, not knowing whether you want him to recognize you.

“You really came!”

Chan points at himself, then at you. “Us?”

Minho shifts his gaze to Chan like he didn’t even notice the dimpled man was there whole time.

“Ah… y-yes,” you stutter. “This is very a nice café.”

One look at Chan and you know there’s no way for you to hide anymore. “He invited me!” you quip. “I mean, us.”

“Do you have anyone handling your social media accounts? Planning the digital marketing? Creating ads?” You have bombarded Minho with questions before Chan says anything, skipping the whole small talk step in “how to smoothly intrigue clients” manual.

Seungmin arrives with Minho’s iced Americano, putting the tall glass in front of him with no words before smiling at you and Chan. “Does any of you want anything else?”

“Yes, please,” Minho interrupts before you can refuse. “Please order whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

“Pulling the boss card, huh?” Chan jokes. “Then I’ll have orange juice.”

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have a chance to try the vanilla cake Chan ordered because he inhales food instead of digesting them, but the chocolate ice cream looks beyond tempting—

Minho chuckles. “How about our vanilla and chocolate ice cream?”

“Did I say that out loud?” you mumble to yourself, but proceed to thank Minho for his suggestions and tell Seungmin you’d like to have those. Minho flashes you a soft smile, almost making you melt on the spot if it weren’t for Chan’s leg kicking yours.

The conversation continues without any embarrassing incident. Chan lets you do all the talking, only adding further details when necessary while Minho asks you challenging but intriguing questions you answer passionately.

The so-called meeting ends with Minho promising to sign the contract by next week and Chan shaking your hand under the table, both confused and impressed.

“Is that why your employees are so relaxed around you? Because you just want everyone to eat and live well? I swear Seungmin didn’t even try to curse discreetly when you told him to wipe the counter for the 5th time,” you ask.

Minho laughs as the said boy exits his station, backpack slung across his shoulder. “Yes I’ll transfer your money after our guests leave. Don’t you dare remind me again!” the former yells playfully before the part timer opens his mouth. Seungmin bows to you and Chan before scowling at his boss. “You’re the one who told me to—nevermind. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“I really like that boy,” you coo when Seungmin closes the door.

“I treat them as my friends,” Minho says. “I decided to do this because I just want to help everyone, including my employees. I don’t want Eat Here to be one of those expensive, pretentious cafes. I just want everyone to eat what they want, that’s why we have all sorts of things here. Combination of Eastern and Western, stuff like that. But this is still business, I have to do things to keep it running, right?”

You’ve met a lot of people with beautiful visions, but you’ve never met someone who wants something so simple yet complicated like Minho. It’s been quite a long time since you’re genuinely excited for a project, and now you know why Chan didn’t freak out upon knowing that you met Minho on the train.

“You guys can do whatever you want,” Minho adds, waving to a pair of part timers clocking in. “Are you going back to the office?”

Chan stretches his limbs. “Yeah,” he groans. “Gotta make sure our intern doesn’t jam the printer again.”

Your phone rings the moment Chan finishes his sentence. ”You jinxed it! Hyunjin is calling.”

“Whatever it is, wait until we’re back!” you whisper-yell at your intern.

“But noona, the printer—”

You give Hyunjin no chance to blabber about one specific printer and end the call. Minho giggles at your antiques, and you don’t have the energy to stop yourself from admiring his pretty features in the most obvious ways possible.

Chan pats your back before grabbing his phone and stands up. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.”

“Take these.” Minho writes your name on one of the paper bags, handing them to you with a big smile. “For everyone at your office. Thanks for reaching out to us.”

You peek inside the bag that has your name scribbled on it, not surprised to see both vanilla and chocolate ice cream inside—it’s the clear bottle that you’re curious about.

“Bye! I’ll send you the gym’s contact later!” Your best friend slash business partner waves at your new client slash crush from the driver’s seat. You take out the bottle, it’s filled with sikhye.

Your favorite drink, but Minho isn’t supposed to know that.

“Everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t let anyone from your past haunt you. Start Erasure now.”

Minho mutes the television, heaving a sigh as he recounts his fateful meeting with you yesterday. The world has always been rather weird, he would say, but nothing defeats meeting his ex-girlfriend—his first love—who has no recollection of your time together. He heard from his former classmates that you sent them a message a few years ago, informing them that you would undergo the erasure procedure. According to his friends, you specifically told them to “never ever mention Lee Minho’s name or ask you about the procedure.”

You’re back in his life now, happy as ever, and the last thing Minho wants is breaking your heart all over again. He no longer owns that special spot in your heart, you owe him nothing. He left you insecure, disappointed and soulless, and now it’s his turn to be haunted by all the questions and what ifs in his mind.

His phone vibrates as soon as he flips the signage open, your name flashing on his screen. “Hey Y/N what’s up?”

“Minho I can’t multitask so please give me quick and accurate answer. I’m at the traffic light in front of Lotte now—”

“You need to turn left.”

“Okay… didn’t know my non-existent sense of direction is that obvious — damn, let me change lanes.”

Minho suppresses a chuckle. You’ve always been bad with directions.

“Turn left once more, and you’ll find us. We’re right across the first G25 store on the street.”

He steps out the café to welcome you when he spots a white Kia arriving. In contrast to his horrifying memories of teaching you to drive, you manage to parallel-park your car smoothly in 10 seconds, stopping Minho from offering to help you park your car.

“Sorry,” you grimace. “I suck at directions. Last week was the first time I went here and Chan was the one driving so I wasn’t really paying attention… and before you ask, no I can’t use GPS while driving. I barely managed to dial your number.”

Minho lifts his hands. “I was just going to say hello.”

“Oh, good! People always judge me for that!”

You don’t let him respond as you point at the photos on the wall. “Tell me about them!” you request. “Our photographer Hyunjin is going to be here any minute, and we’ll give this corner a special attention. Your customers need to know this.”

Minho scratches his head bashfully, the glint of admiration in your eyes is making him a bit dizzy. It’s been a long time since you looked at him like that. “Uhh, okay. These are the kids I’m supporting, they live in Africa,” he starts. “I hope I can visit them someday, but they’ve been sending me letters, saying thank you... telling me about their days and all.”

“Wow!” you marvel. “How does it feel? To receive such lovely letters?”

“Honestly, it kinda makes me feel like a parent,” he replies. “It feels wonderful.”

Moving onto the next set of photos, his smile grows wider. “I teach these kids dancing, sometimes taekwondo. They’re all very sweet, especially the maknae, Yang Jeongin.” Minho points at a boy with contagious smile. “He can be a brat sometimes, but everyone loves him.”

“Is this an orphanage? Can I meet them?” you blurt out.

“Of course! You’ll love them to bits.”

“You have to come back with Y/N noona!”

A few weeks later, Minho took you to the orphanage. You played with the kids all day and watched him teach them dance. You thought the kids wouldn’t like you as much, but now they’re trying to persuade you to stay the night.

“Aww, of course I’ll come back. Be a good boy, and we’ll be back sooner than you thought!”

Yang Jeongin, the youngest boy in the orphanage, has done everything to make you stay. If it weren’t for your “adult responsibilities,” you would have caved in because nothing could beat his puppy eyes and hopeful smile.

“Alright, go back inside, everyone. All of you need to sleep.”

The kids grumble at Minho’s command, slowly walking back to the main hall. After making sure no one sneaks out to follow you, the two of you make a stop at a nearby park that Minho claims to be the perfect place to admire the moon.

“Okay, you’re not lying. The moon does look pretty from here.”

The man sitting beside you smirks in satisfaction. “I never stay too long but I always like spending time here. Now that I think about it, you kinda resemble the moonlight.”

The switch of the mood has you cackling. “Aren’t everything about the moon associated with werewolves and murders? You’re expecting me to fall for such a lame pickup line?”

“That’s not how I see it.” Minho disagrees. “I think you’re radiant, bright but not blinding. Take it as a compliment.”

The word radiant strikes you light a lightning, forces you to face the harsh reality that you’re doing a really good job in hiding the hollowness inside—all the lingering questions and uneasiness. You’re far from being the light Minho admires.

“Trust me, I’m not radiant whatsoever.”

Minho stiffens, observing you carefully until you feel brave enough to look at him. At first, you see pity in his eyes, but it morphs into something that feels too good to be true. You find tranquil in his gaze, so serene that you nearly let your tears fall.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together before pulling you up from your seat. “I’ll tell you whenever you’re being the moonlight that you are,” he promises, his voice is a perfect mix between sincerity and mischief. “Prepared to get sick of me because I’ll remind you everyday.”

Just because most people often cross the line doesn’t mean that being able to exert self-control when needed is something to be proud about, but Minho has always thought of it as his positive trait.

He’s going to cross it out of the list today.

His hand is still holding yours tightly, chatting away with a lopsided smile on his face. And yours. This wasn’t what he intended to do, but life loves to play God and tests him the moment he thinks he knows what he’s doing. Giving you his name card on the train has spiraled into taking you home hand-in-hand, peppering kisses on your temple when you become too cute to handle (which is almost all the damn time) and falling in love with you all over again. What happened in the subway impulsive and dumb, but he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to see you again, he longed to talk to you.

Minho just wanted a second chance to be good to you, but will things ever be enough? How will he make things right again? Providing you free coffee and say thank you for your visit? It was a selfish wish he shouldn’t have acted upon.

“We must’ve crossed paths somehow. There’s no way that we’ve never met before!” you say, swinging your intertwined hands happily.

It’s too late. History repeats itself, but Minho’s too far gone to stop. He’s trying to feel it, the need to exert self-control—he can’t.

“I didn’t come home often,” he lies, every word feels like knife stabbing his heart. You hum in response, a yawn escaping from your mouth as both of you are nearing your unit. Minho watches you enter the door password, mouthing the numbers silently, 2 3 0 9. Your grandma’s birthday. It’s always been your password for everything—phone, laptop, even Minho’s old apartment since you were the one who set it for him. It stays with him until this very day although he no longer lives in the same apartment.

You tug at his sleeve. “Come on in.”

Your stuffs are pretty much the same, if not exactly the same as a few years ago. The only things missing were those related to him. Polaroid photos of you together, the umbrella he left at your place, the mug he…. wait.

The purple mug Minho bought for you is sitting on the kitchen counter, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. Did you forget to get rid of it before the procedure?

“Let me go change first,” you tell him. “Feel free to grab any snack. There’s cold water and beer in the fridge.”

He can barely answer as you disappear into your room. Memories start flooding his mind, it feels as if he finally finds all the folders with your name on them that he tried so hard to bury, stashed in the deepest part of his heart.

Those memories were so painfully beautiful he has to bite his lip to prevent his tears from falling.

“Oh that’s my favorite mug!”

You’re back, dressed in the black loose T-shirt you always wear during summers. Minho’s eyes automatically dart to your left shoulder, spotting the hole on the shirt that exposes a part of your shoulder.

Another thing that hasn’t changed. Another thing that makes you the you he knew. Another thing that diminishes his self-control into nothing because you have no idea how much he loved to—

“Minho?”

You cradle this face softly, wiping the tears he didn’t know he shed. Confusion and panic reflected in your irises. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He touches his cheek before attempting to laugh. “Something probably went into my eyes...”

“Let me see.” Before he refuses, you’ve taken a step closer, gently blowing into his eyes. “Better? Want some eye drop?”

Minho shakes his head, removing your hands from his face and plants a kiss on your forehead. Another mistake that feels so right. “I guess I’m just tired. Is it okay if we chat some other time?”

You mumble an okay, following him to the front door. When he turns the door knob, you reach for his hand. “Hey,” you murmur, slowly examining his face. Minho tries to read yours in return, sensing your hesitation. He waits for a good minute patiently, letting you form words in your head.

“What are we? These things we’ve been doing… what do they mean to you? Does this mean we’re…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more directed to yourself than him, and Minho understands what you’re talking about. He tightens his grip on the knob, desperately begging himself to stop all of this. You don’t deserve another heartbreak when you’ve done everything to continue living.

You’re a whole new person, yet you remain the one he adored. How can you be so different yet familiar? How can you be so… dearly you?

“Minho, does this mean that we’re—”

Minho throws his arms around you, burying his head into the crook your neck before slowly trailing his lips towards the exposed part of your shoulder. You have no idea how much he loves leaving kisses there, on that particular spot. As strange as it sounds, it gives him the strength and hope he needs. Minho never told you this; you’ll never be able to imagine how happy and relieved he currently feels when he plants one, two, three, countless kisses that set his whole being on fire.

“We are,” he whispers, dropping one last kiss before pulling you even closer, enveloping your body in his embrace.

There’s only one thing in Minho’s head now: love. He can only think about loving you better than before, and in this moment nothing can stop him from doing so because whether he likes the old you or the new you doesn’t matter anymore.

Minho just loves you, and he doesn’t want to think about anything else. Not even his selfishness. And especially not your future heartbreak.

“You’re so precious, Y/N. You’re so precious to me.”

Hyunjin is the only one at the office when you arrive. He’s busy with his camera, changing its setting every now and then before capturing random things on his desk. You and Chan were on the fence about hiring him at first since you’re just a small company and he’s a student with high expectations. However, Hyunjin turns out to be the one of the most eager apprentices ever, and you’re going to bawl your eyes out when his internship ends next month.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, only earning a distracted “Huh?” as an answer.

“Hyunjin, don’t forget to go over the photoshoot details with me before we leave later, okay?”

He lifts his head a little this time. “Okay. Let me just finish trying out this new technique Seungmin taught me.”

You chuckle, snapping a photo of your intern yelling at his camera when he messes up. Sending it to Chan, you write, “We should give him a raise.”

Your phone rings a few seconds later, frowning when Chan’s urgent voice greets you. “I’m inside my car. Can we talk?”

“Whoa, relax. What happened?”

“Y/N, please. Just come out for a sec.”

No one wants to start a fight with Chan when he’s talking in that tone, so you inform Hyunjin you’re stepping out for a bit. Chan’s sedan is parked right in front of the building, his conflicted face prompts you to enter the car right away.

“You told me there’s something weird about Minho but now you’re dating him? And you’re hiding it from me?” he deadpans without waiting for you to close the door.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you murmur. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Chan sighs in exasperation. “Why do you think you owe me an explanation? I’m your best friend, not your mother. How is Minho different from any other guy you’ve dated that you really tried to keep it a secret from me?”

You gulp. “Things between Minho and I… it’s different. I thought I knew what liking someone felt like, but after meeting him I realized I knew nothing about it. Everything feels so overwhelmingly wonderful and insanely intense I think I may fall apart if I start talking about it.”

Your best friend gives you a knowing look, but says nothing as he stares at a random stranger walking down the street. “And I know you’re not really fond of him so I was trying to look for the perfect timing to tell you. Sorry.”

“I just want to keep you safe. This guy knows small details about you that even I didn’t know. Are you sure you never met him before?”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before adding, “Did you do that erasure procedure?”

“How am I supposed to know?” you snap. “Isn’t forgetting about the whole thing the point of the procedure?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Chan’s voice is soft this time, but his words hit you right in the gut you have to stop yourself from flinching. Hearing someone say that they love you is scary, admitting that you are in love is a hundred times scarier.

Taking your silence as a yes, Chan turns on the engine. “Look, the last thing I want is seeing you sad. It breaks me, more than you know. So please consider trying to find out the truth. How are you going to love him if you don’t trust him? How is he going to love you if he keeps you in the dark?”

You lean your head against the window, watching your best friend dialing Hyunjin’s number to tell him that both of you will be back after lunch.

“We better be quick,” Chan says. “Hyunjin’s terrified he will have to answer Mr. Song’s call again.”

“We should definitely give him a raise.”

“Oh we will,” he snickers. “If he survives Mr. Song’s call.”

“You’re cruel.”

For the first time in your life, you feel like a ruling queen inside your island instead of a trapped princess. You know every nook, every secret passage, every hidden treasure that nobody else has ever explored. Everything feels real for once, you’re in control and you want to stay here forever.

Eat Here has gained more regular customers since you and Chan started handling its social media accounts, and the face-splitting grin on Minho’s face whenever a new customer pushes the door open makes you feel proud and giddy at the same time.

You weren’t able to witness your Hottest Man Alive greeting his customers happily today, but you promised to pay him a visit at the café. It’s a few minutes past 10, meaning the café has closed for the day, so you were prepared to see everyone cleaning up. To you surprise, there’s nobody inside when you arrive.

“Minho?”

Your boyfriend waves from inside the pantry. “Coming!”

Moments later, he comes out with a tray of food. Gesturing at you to take a seat, he places a bowl of potato salad, a pot of kimchi jjigae and some side dishes. “Wait, let me get some more.”

You recall your phone conversation 2 hours ago, vaguely remembering telling Minho that you haven’t had dinner. When he serves the last batch of side dishes and a bottle of sikhye, you tease him for being so sweet.

“I’m not being sweet though?” He pulls out a chair for himself, watching you eat with content eyes. “You said you were starving, so I prepared you some food.”

You shrug, letting him pour sikhye into your glass. “I just never expected that you’re someone who…”

“… cooks?” he finishes for you. “I just did the bare minimum. Do you really want to see me being sweet?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Minho clears his throat, the way he stares at you makes you fidget in your seat. Only God knows what’s inside this man’s mind. One second he’s nonchalant and cool, then he’s Mr. Flirty and makes you all swoony.

Patting his thigh, he smiles at you. “Come here baby.”

You shake your head in fear of completely losing your sanity. “No. What are you trying to do?”

“Being the most romantic boyfriend ever. Come on.”

Minho tries his best to suppress his laugh as you finally settle yourself on his lap, not sure whether you should rest your head on his shoulder or peck his lips or marvel at how firm his thighs are... damn it Y/N, what are you? 17?

Although you’re just sitting there like a log, Minho looks unbothered and reaches for the chocolate cake. He slices it into smaller bites, taking a piece of it with the fork before telling you to open your mouth. “If you still want ice cream then we can get some on the way home.”

“I’ve had enough ice cream for today. I went to this cute ice cream parlor with Chan.”

You take the plate from him, stuffing yourself with the rest of the cake. Minho’s soft pats on your shoulder and the sweet taste of chocolate seem to flush all the initial awkwardness from your system.

Another hour passes with you curling up on Minho’s lap, the latter listening to your little speech about how grateful you are for vending machines as if you’re talking about world peace. Your back hurts and his thighs ache but the way your head nestles in the crook of his neck and the way he pecks your cheek every few minutes are enough of a spell to trap both of you in this exact moment, where lies, doubts and regrets cease to exist.

You wake up with a jolt, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table. It’s surreal for a dream to feel that real—it almost felt like a memory, something distant but present nonetheless. You’re sure that was the younger Minho you saw in the dream instead of the one you know, and before you come to a realization that it’s currently 2AM, you’re already dialing his number.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “Hmmm my moonlight, missed me?”

His sleepy voice causes you to blush, definitely not seeing that coming. “Nothing.” You wince at your parched voice. “I just had a dream.”

Minho lets out a low laugh, you can hear him sitting up on his bed. “About me?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

You sink into your bed, heaving a sigh you forget to hide. “It’s complicated.”

“Was it a bad dream?” Minho’s voice is firm but oh so calming that you start recounting every detail you can remember. He listens to you attentively, humming once in a while, and your muscles are all relaxed now. Minho is here, listening to your bullshit in the wee hours of the morning. Minho is here, calling you his moonlight with the most caring tone ever.

“I miss you,” he declares the moment you finish talking. “Can I come over?”

“All of sudden? Minho, it’s 2AM.” You glance at the clock. “Wait, it’s 2:18 now.”

“Then I’ll be there at 3AM.”

“But—”

He hangs up, and you just sit there until Minho enters your room at 3AM sharp, taking in your dumfounded state before plopping himself onto the bed and pulling you close. “I’m here,” he sweetly says and you can only nod, eyes boring into his as he runs his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I like you, exactly the way you like me. I like you more.”

You shake your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide your red cheeks. “It was just a dream,” he adds, enunciating each word like a mantra. Closing your eyes, you repeat his words again and again inside your head, traces of pain from the dream still crawling up your skin as Minho’s sweet praises lull you to sleep.

“I’m sorry but that’s classified information. We cannot mention anything about our patients.”

“But she did the procedure because of me! I’m the one she erased!”

“That only gives us more reasons to forbid you from obtaining any information. It’s our policy to protect our patients, especially after the procedure is done.”

Minho wonders how this sullen kid managed to land the job, but bites his tongue before he really gets kicked out. He takes one deep breath before pleading at so-called receptionist (his name is Kim Seungmin but he could care less) once again. “May I at least know whether she was in so much pain?”

Seungmin fixes his glasses. “People her age mostly spend their money on traveling or whatever cool things they want to do, but she chose to have her memories manipulated so she wouldn’t have to remember you. I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

It’s no big deal, Minho tells himself. It’s normal for people to have the Erasure procedure thesedays. In fact, it’s become so normal that no one bothers to talk about it anymore. Erasure is simply another way to move on, just like Love Alarm is another way to detect love. If you decided that your memories together weren’t precious enough to keep in your heart, so be it. If he hurt you that much but you chose to erase him instead of confronting him, then it’s your loss.

Exactly. Was he that bad? Did he hurt you that much?

“Excuse me, Sir?” Seungmin is already standing by the door. “I think it’s better for you to leave.”

“Alright.” Minho lifts his hands in defeat, starting to feel bad for the poor boy who’s just trying to keep his job. “Hang in there, kid.”

“Congratulations, you just earned a VIP pass to Hell.”

Eat Here is doing well, the kids he’s supporting are starting school soon and he finally gets to return the feelings of the girl he loves the most but yes, Seungmin is right. The gates of Hell are open for Minho.

“Right,” he scoffs. “As if you didn’t greet people with a smile and convinced them that erasure was the best solution for all their problems.”

Seungmin grits his teeth; talks about Dr. Seo Changbin’s Erasure Centre are never easy for both of them. For Seungmin, it reminds him of all the pain, rage and guilt he thought he was used to seeing. For Minho, it reminds him of his selfishness and failure to make you happy.

“The erasure did help a lot of people though,” the puppy-eyed boy trails off. “It’s been years yet I’m still torn between wanting the procedure to perish and thanking it for saving lives.”

“Maybe it does save people. But then there’s Y/N.”

“And you,” Seungmin adds.

Minho chuckles. “And you.”

“Are you just gonna wait until she realizes that those dreams actually happened?”

A long silence looms over them until Seungmin slides a clear CD case along the counter. “I guess it’s time to reveal how I risked my life for you the day I quit my job there.”

A label with your name is plastered on it along with the logo of the centre. It’s the answer to all his questions when he first met Seungmin. The sole proof that everything between the two of you happened.

“I can get sued anytime,” the part-timer warns jokingly. “So use it well, and don’t cry. She said some hurtful things, but you deserved it anyways.”

“Do you think it could last another hour?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo and tells the models to get a 5-minute break. “Do you want an honest answer or an intern-can-make-anything-happen answer?” he whispers at you while checking his shots.

You’re currently at a photoshoot in Gyeongju with a client you desperately need to impress, but your clumsiness just had to choose today to get in action. Chan was almost furious when you told him you left all the cameras’ charging cables at Minho’s apartment.

“So we’re fucked up,” you conclude. “How many outfits are left?”

“Including this one… three.”

“We’re so fucked up,” you correct yourself, approaching Chan to relay the expected bad news when a familiar car arrives at the villa. You barely hear Hyunjin muttering, “God is a male… for today…” before rushing to take the black duffel bag from Minho’s hand. He only smiles when you tell him he’s getting all the hugs and kisses later.

The photoshoot continues smoothly; allowing you, Chan and Hyunjin actually breathe after 5 hours trying to make the cameras’ batteries last as long as possible.

“I’m so sorry Chan,” you sigh.

He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine. The problem’s solved anyways.”

“No thanks to me.”

“Thanks to you.” Chan glances at your boyfriend who’s leaning on his car, watching you from afar. “Minho brought the chargers, but you were the one who made him drive all the way here. You need to stop underestimating his feelings for you.”

You let Chan’s words sink in, eyes meeting Minho’s in the process. For a split second you forget about everything’s that’s been bugging you, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in his affection for you.

“Do you trust Minho now?”

Chan puts his hand inside his pocket, exhaling softly. “I know he’s crazy for you Y/N, I’m not dense. But does that mean he’s being honest with you?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo that marks the end of the shoot, giving you a reason not to respond to Chan, jogging towards the models instead. “Thank you, everyone!” You bow to them. “There are some snacks left inside so please eat before you go, or you may take them home.”

You can still feel Minho’s eyes on you, following you wherever you run with the sweetest kind of fondness that makes it hard for you to question him. He’s like a prince who comes from another kingdom after crossing the long bridge and fighting in the wild forest. He stands there in front of your castle, waiting for you to deem him worthy of your love, of you.

How do you say no to that?

But how do you know if he sees you the way you feel he does?

After that night, you’ve had other dreams—the ones you never told him—each dream etched itself into your mind, filling in the empty spaces slowly but surely. They become a part of you so naturally that you’re convinced you somehow lived them.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minho has just finished loading the last box of props into Chan’s car trunk, now waiting for you to break your train of thoughts with an amused smile. You barely hear Chan and Hyunjin saying goodbye before they enter the car, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Minho’s smile is long gone, his expression mirroring yours: confused, lost, a bit scared. “Are you okay?”

Even your 18 year-old self knew what to do then. A bit late, but she did it. The thought of embracing her as a part of you is making you nauseous, the acknowledgement of having a past you don’t remember is disturbingly scary.

“Those dreams... they were real, right? Those are my memories.”

Your stomach churns when Minho nods, surprisingly calmer than you expected. He pulls out a CD out of his bag, carefully slipping it into your hand. The thin plastic feels heavy in your hold, the world as you know it crumbling at the realization that this Lee Minho was the same boy who had your heart in his palm and broke it.

“I tried to picture this situation in my head every single day, but never had the courage to actually tell you. I’m so sorry Y/N. For everything, then and now.”

Lee Minho, the one who sees you as his moonlight, was also the one whose heart could never be yours.

“I’m Lee Minho. We’re both from Gimpo, and we met at high school. We were best friends, then sometime during 11th grade we started dating. You were this amazing, lovely girl who wore your heart on your sleeves, and I was the asshole who failed to realize how blessed I was to have you.”

Minho pauses to look into your eyes, the sorrow in his orbs triggers the tears you refuse to shed. “I became your boyfriend because I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Stupid and inconsiderate. All I had to do was tell you how I felt…”

"B-but why?” you sob. “Y-you l-lied to me, Minho. Again.”

“I did. Fuck. I did,” he admits. “You have every right to never ever forgive me. But Y/N, I never meant to play with your feelings. I was too late, but I loved you then. I love you now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else even if I try.”

Phase 2: Forgotten Days

“A mug?”

Minho hums as an answer while copying your English homework in a speed of light, failing to answer your questions about why, out of all things he could buy in Japan, he decided to gift you a mug. You let out a huff when he leaves your next question hang in the air (“How did you know that I needed a new mug?”), but lets him be since the bell will ring in 15 minutes.

The purple mug is quite heavy and somehow that makes your heart flutter. Minho gave all the other classmates green tea Kit Kats and keychains, but he was willing to fit the bulky mug into his tiny suitcase for you.

You don’t know what’s going on inside his head most of the time, for all you know he could’ve bought the mug because he forgot to buy something for you and decided to grab the first thing in sight. It’s just a little gift, something you should just appreciate without thinking too much about it, but you can’t help but wonder. Sometimes you feel sorry for yourself for overanalyzing Minho’s every little gesture, trying to guess how much he likes you.

“I’m done!” Minho exclaims, returning your book before grabbing his wallet. He finally looks into your eyes, smiling at you as he ruffles your hair. “Gotta grab some snacks. You want anything? Strawberry milk? Chips?”

When he comes back with both although you told him you only wanted chips, Minho argues that he knows you’ll get hungry in the middle of lessons. Again, it shouldn’t feel so special, but he’s looking at you now, you and no one else. Lee Minho is like an enigma, but at times like this, you bask in his bright smile and everything is forgotten.

Summer is the enemy you’ve managed to beat every single year, but combine the scorching heat with excruciating cramps and you don’t stand a chance. You peek into the practice room once again, but Minho is still practicing his dance routines, his phone laid neglected at the corner of the room. The supposed-to-be 30 minutes practice turns into an hour, and you decide to just wait outside since you don’t have energy to go home on your own.

The door opens when you’re on the verge of passing out, luckily someone has caught you before you collapse on the floor. “Y/N,” Minho’s voice forces you to open your eyes. “What happened?”

“… cramps…”

He lifts you and dashes to the infirmary without saying anything else, yelling at some other students to “fucking move!” while trying not to trip over his undone shoelaces. You try to tell him that you’re alright, just a little tired from enduring the pain but he gives you no chance to talk.

Minho finally stays still after kicking the infirmary’s door to no avail. He makes no other attempt to open the door, slowly making eye contact with your drowsy eyes. You love seeing fire in Minho’s eyes, especially when he dances or plays with his friends. This is the first time Minho sees you with such intensity, but this is not the passionate flame you’ve been craving to see. This fire is destructive, painful. It breaks your heart that he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the source of all unfortunate events that happens in his life.

You feel like you’re the unfortunate event in his life, and the thought is enough to make you break free from his bruising grip, pushing the door open yourself.

“Go back to practice,” you tell him, sitting on one of the beds. “I’ll lie down for a bit then go home.”

Minho rummages through the medicine cupboard, taking a painkiller pill and fills an empty glass with warm water. “Drink this, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Minho…”

He shakes his head. “You’re sick and I’m taking you home.”

Too weak to argue, you swallow the pill and let him walk you home. Minho keeps his hand around your shoulder the whole time, not even bothering to check his ringing phone. He doesn’t talk to you either, and at this rate the silence is more concerning than your cramps.

“Can you go up on your own?” he murmurs when you reach your apartment building. “I have to go back to school, but I’ll stop by later.”

You only nod, about to wave him goodbye when he reaches for your arm. “Wait.”

Minho cups your face, pressing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. Soon, he starts kissing you harder, but his lips still feel cold against yours and he still feels so faraway even when he’s gripping your waist like his life depends on it.

“Minho,” you manage to rasp, cradling his face to stop him from planting another kiss on your lips. He opens his eyes, staring at you with those beautiful eyes that, sadly, never really shine for you. “Your friends are waiting.”

Still panting, Minho gives you a nod before pulling away. The fire you saw in his eyes earlier has died out.

As you watch him walk away, you finally realize that you’ve been asking yourself the wrong question. It’s not about how much Minho likes you, it’s about whether he likes you at all.

If Minho could choose only one person to be with for the rest of his life, he would choose you. He enjoyed watching movies with you, he loved sending his silly selfies to you, he always wanted to end a tiring day by talking to you all night long.

He can still do that, you’re still his friend. The only difference is that he can hug and kiss you and tell other people that he’s yours. Minho doesn’t know why he lets the words “boyfriend and girlfriend” change the dynamics between the two of you, but it’s too late to undo everything.

“Can we just be friends again?” he repeats the question in his head over and over, yet he can never voice it out. The look in your eyes will be too devastating for him to bear, and he will you lose you forever.

“I’m outside,” he tells you over the phone, trying not to flinch at your excited “Oh!”

A few minutes later, you step out of the elevator, walking towards him with big steps.

“Feeling better?” he asks, noting the way your eyes light up at the question.

“Hmm. I took a short nap and it’s gone.”

Minho sighs. “Don’t wait for me next time. If I take too long, you can just go home. I’m sorry that I let you wait around like that.”

The last sentence causes you to lower your gaze, seemingly self-conscious with the fact that he forgot you were waiting for him. “Bought you some ice cream,” Minho says, trying to distract you from your thoughts. “Chocolate, vanilla, mint choco, it’s all there.”

“As an apology?” you half-tease, the tinge of sadness in your voice causes Minho’s heart to clench a little.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Yes and no,” he murmurs into your hair. Part of him is relieved when you don’t question his answer, only humming against his chest before wrapping your arms around him. It’s so easy to make you happy and it angers him. You’re too kind. Too patient. Too loyal. You’re too in love with him, and it hurts not being able to feel the same.

But as the warmth of your body starts to comfort his senses, Minho realizes this is where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, no matter what the labels are. “If you miss the last bus you’re gonna have to walk all the way home,” you remind him, voice muffled since neither of you wants to let go.

“One more minute,” he replies, fingers playing with the hole on your shirt. He places one feathery kiss there, a silent promise that he’s going to try his best loving you. The one promise that could have made you stay, but it remained unsaid until the day you left him.

“Surprise!”

Minho lets out a yelp, coughing up confetti that you pop right in front of face. His parents, standing a few steps behind you, are giggling at their son’s reaction. “I thought you had to go somewhere with your mom!” he exclaims, the surprise in his eyes is now replaced by confusion and… annoyance?

You quietly step aside, letting him shake off the confetti as you’re trying to find your voice. Minho’s parents don’t seem to notice the tension, laughing and explaining that they invited you over for the family birthday dinner.

His mother ushers both of you to the dining room where the feast awaits. “After all this time you still haven’t introduced Y/N to Soonie!” she protests jokingly while the said cat is purring at you. Coming over to Minho’s house without his knowledge sounded like a terrible idea right from the start, but now you really wish you had turned the offer down. The birthday boy only pats you on the back before telling you to sit down, and you spend the rest of the dinner conversing without ever looking at each other in the eyes. That’s no surprise, what surprises you is the fact that you don’t even bother trying to get him look at you.

After 2 years, you’re finally tired of waiting for Minho to love you.

“Soonie doesn’t usually like strangers,” Minho says as you’re walking to the bus stop. “But he really likes you.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Like me. Do you like me?”

Minho chuckles. “What kind of question is that?”

Words are bubbling inside your head, all emotions threatening to spill out you have to literally swallow them down. It feels like the world has come to a stop—the realization that your world has been revolving around Minho all this time makes you feel queasy.

“Y/N?”

You want to explode. You wish you can explode. There’s nothing you want more than taking out every piece of your broken heart, count all of them and show him how much you’ve been hurting. You thought your love was enough for both of you, but the bigger your love grew, the farther the distance between the two of you became.

Minho keeps his gaze on you as you’re mustering up courage to ask the most heartbreaking question. “Why?” you quiver. “Why do you pretend that you like me? Why do you bother doing that for 2 years?”

“I-I like you. So much,” he stutters. “Just not in the same way you like me…”

Blinking your tears away, you return his tormented gaze. “Then why did you let me like you alone? Every fucking day you let me wonder how much you like me, if I mean anything to you… I wait for you, convincing myself that you must’ve liked me if you chose to be my boyfriend. But it’s just a game to you, isn’t it?”

Lee Minho has always had his own way to love. You’ve seen him showering those around him with love in ways that seem so ordinary that people often take it for granted. But you see and feel everything, including hints that your feelings have always been one sided. You bury all those hints, telling yourself that he only needs time.

That time never comes, and you have run out of lies and excuses and hope to cover up for both of you.

Phase 3: Chasing Moonlight

The Queen lived under a spell all this time, believing that the foreign kingdom was her whole world while she didn’t even have a home to begin with.

But the ruins of her castle—the only thing that’s left of the kingdom she tried to understand her whole life—will become one. She’s going to build herself a new kingdom, one that she knows by heart, and call it home.

“Noona!!! I’m going home!!! Don’t stay there too long!!! You’ll get sick!!!”

You tear your gaze from the cloudy sky as Hyunjin shouts at you from the ground. You dismiss him with a little wave, forcing a small smile so that the boy will leave instead of going back to the rooftop.

“He’s right,” Chan adds. “You’ve been here for hours.”

After showing up at work with puffy eyes and hoarse voice, Chan attempted to send you home, but you insisted to complete some of your tasks before breaking down during lunch after Hyunjin accidentally revealed that he would meet Seungmin at Eat Here.

So here you are, finally sated after crying all the tears you had left at the rooftop during the remaining working hours.

“I’m fine,” you croak, cringing at your own voice. “You can leave.”

“And let you stay here until you’re all stiff and frozen?”

“Just let me be pathetic for one more day.”

He furrows his brows. “You’re not being pathetic. After what he’s done to you, weeping is the least you should do.”

You let out your first laugh of the day. “I surely wept.”

Looking incredibly relieved that you haven’t lost the ability to feel other emotions than sadness, Chan continues, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

He takes the longest time to think, but shakes his head at the end.

“The fact that I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s supposed to be a good thing, but go on.”

“Should I give him one last chance? Or should I just hate him until I die? What’s the right thing to do? What should I do to heal? What should he do to heal? All these questions are driving me insane.”

Those questions are the easiest to answer, so you expect Chan to sigh and tell you to snap out of it, but he just smiles at you. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Have you tried answering your own questions? What you want to do is what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy, my dear friend.”

“I want to…”

Your mind wanders to last night, recalling that agony on Minho’s face that mirrors your own. A small part of you wants him to suffer for the rest of his life, consumed by guilt and the sheer horror of being erased from someone else’s memories.

“I want to curse him out.”

Chan playfully smacks your head. “You didn’t do that?”

“My mind went blank, then I started crying. That wasn’t cool at all, I know,” you huff. “I should’ve told him to go to hell or something.”

“After that? What do you want to do?”

You bury your face into your palms, ignoring the teasing tone in Chan’s questions. “The last time we talked, you were Lee Minho’s #1 hater. What happened?”

“I just wanted him to be honest with you. I never hated him,” he tells you softly. “Do you?”

You may never get all of your memories back, but the ones you can remember are enough to know that being with Minho used to be a silent torture. He was a thorny rose, beautiful yet unattainable. You wanted him so much you refused to look down and see your bloody fingers. The thorns were stuck there for the longest time, eventually infecting your soul until you were too weak to heal yourself.

But he’s not that boy anymore. He’s just Minho who listens to all of your rambles and actually keeps all those details in his mind. He gives you the warmest hugs and the most sincere kisses. He stays by your side, and you will always want him to stay.

When you finally lift your head to answer Chan, he gives you his reassuring smile that never fails to make you feel better. It’s the first time he’s talking about Minho without a frown, and you hope it’s a good sign. “Like I said,” he sing-songs. “Do what you want to do.”

The sound of footsteps approaching prompts you to curl yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible under the dining the table. Jeongin manages to push the heavy door open after a few tries, mumbling that you’re not going to take the “king of hide and seek” title from him. You can’t help but giggle at his determination, waiting for him to find you while he’s scanning the whole room.

“Minho hyung!”

You stay still, not wanting to fall into the 5 year-old’s tricks so easily… until you hear Minho’s voice calling the little boy’s name. “What are you guys playing? Where’s Y/N?”

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Jeongin answers, his eyes still as sharp as a hawk. “I’ve found everyone, only Y/N noona is left!”

Minho hums. “Want me to help you find her?”

You don’t hear Jeongin responding, but the next thing you see is a pair of pretty eyes staring into yours. “Found her,” Minho murmurs.

Jeongin pulls you out with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you were there! Thanks for helping me, hyung.”

Minho ruffles the boy’s head before gazing back at you. “If you’re thankful, can I borrow her for a second? We just need to talk, then she’s all yours.”

You can’t find the strength to say no, hoping Jeongin will somehow be clingy this time. “Are you guys fighting?” he asks instead.

“Do you think we’re fighting?”

Jeongin nods, his sparkly eyes turn gloomy. “If I let you talk, will you make up?”

Minho glances at you. “I don’t know… I made a huge mistake.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah,” Minho confirms, voice thick with remorse and you’re not sure how long you can pretend to be okay in front of Jeongin.“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

You crouch down, pinching the boy’s pout with an endearing smile. “I promise nothing bad will happen. Can we go outside now? I’m sure everyone is waiting for you.”

Still a bit sullen, he links his hand with yours and lets you lead him out, Minho trailing behind the two of you. Once you’re back at the garden, Jeongin whispers into your ear, “I’ll always be your friend, noona. I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t,” you laugh. “I’ll join you soon, okay?”

Minho turns to you as soon as Jeongin goes back to his friends, studying your expressions carefully. You want to tell him so many things, yet the only words you can produce are, “Fuck you, Lee Minho.”

You feel slightly lighter when Minho says nothing to defend himself, sitting on the grass before gesturing at you to do the same. It fuels your need to let out the pain you previously sealed inside your heart, ironically basking in his comforting presence as you do so.

“The whole time I felt like something was missing. You knew that, then went on hiding the rest of the puzzle pieces and left me there, incomplete. Just like that.”

This isn’t your first time baring your heart to Minho, the last time you did it you were left with such immeasurable pain that erasing a part of your brain—your soul—sounded like a better choice. You wait for the sadness and rage to take over your mind, but the storm never comes. You wonder what makes it different until Minho shifts to look at you in the eye.

Minho is looking at you with those pretty eyes like you’re the only one he can see. It’s not just a sweet dream you tried to dream of every night when you were 17. You’re no longer the only one who’s wearing your heart on your sleeves.

“Am I doing this because I feel guilty or because I genuinely want to be with you?” he begins. “Believe me Y/N, I spent months trying to find the answer and justify what I did, but I guess you can never exactly separate those two feelings.”

His confession is bittersweet; you know it won’t end all your personal battles. You still have to fight them, help yourself to understand why you are thinking and acting the way you are. The gaps have been filled, and now you have to be the one who define yourself.

“I thought I could just treat you better for the rest of our lives. I was sure my love would be enough to heal you. That was very stupid and selfish of me, and I’m sorry. You’re free to hate me, push me away, ruin my life… the decision is yours. But I don’t wanna hide how I feel anymore. Not from you.”

You’re still pondering his words when Jeongin comes to check on you, making sure Minho isn’t making you cry again.

“No, Jeongin, I’m fine. Look? I’m not crying!” you reassure the pouty kid.

He beams at you with his toothy smile. “Really?! Did you make up? Friends have to forgive each other!”

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo. “And yes, we made up. Friends forgive each other.”

Minho shoots you a surprised look, but you ignore him until you convince Jeongin that he can continue playing. “I don’t know whether we can go back to what we were,” you tell him, gazing at the clear sky. “I still need time to process everything, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t ever see you again. So we can be friends, if you want.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling and hopeful. “Hi. I’m Lee Minho.”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply. “Anyways, Lee Minho my new friend, how did you know that I’m here?”

“Your scary friend Bang Chan told me you’d be here.”

“So you think Chan is scary.”

Minho does something that’s between a shrug and a shudder. “He’s always shooting daggers at me how do you not notice?!”

As you and Minho spend the rest of the day laughing and enjoying the sun, you rediscover the magic of following your heart.

It’s heavenly.

To Minho, there are only okay days and good days. Bad days almost never happen, but today is a bad day. Everything started from Eat Here’s fruit supplier sending them the wrong strawberries, then Seungmin called in sick minutes before his shift started, and now he has to deal with a couple whose order hasn’t been processed since 40 minutes ago.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. We’re processing your order now and it will be on us. Jisung, we need another 2 glasses of lemonade—”

“We need our food, not—”

Minho’s lips stretch into a thin smile, the kind of smile he hates because you once said you could sense that he was faking it. His business smile is the only that can save him now, so he ignores the fact that you’re watching the whole chaos and says, “It will be on us. You’re going to need more drinks while waiting.”

After making sure that he’s appeased the angry customers, Minho goes back to the small table at the corner where you’re waiting for him. He can no longer mask his fatigue and annoyance when you lay your eyes on him, all he wants now is to hold you in his arms and sleep everything away. He knows he can’t ask you for more, he’s already getting more than he deserves since you agreed to be friends with him again.

He’s undeniably the luckiest man in the whole galaxy, but it’s human instincts to always want more. There are days when his longing for you is too much to handle, and today is one of those days.

His train of thoughts is interrupted when a cold glass is pressed against his cheek. “Minho?”

“Huh?”

Your eyes crinkle knowingly when he focuses his eyes on you again. “I want to listen to you ranting but I really need to go now. Chan needs me back at the office.”

“Okay,” he answers rather brashly. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Minho almost pouts the way Jeongin does (that pout always gets him) whenever the two of you are going home, luckily he stops himself just in time, opting to wonder what will happen if he tells you that he wants you to stay just a minute longer instead.

You make your way to the door, but not without stopping to give him one last advice, “You better not complain that everything is annoying every 5 seconds if you want that new guy to last more than a day. He’s been looking like a lost quokka!”

Your “warning” came out a bit too loud than you expected. Of course, it reaches Han “that new guy” Jisung’s ears and Minho hopes he remembers to give the poor kid a slice of cheesecake for free after his shift ends. You flash him an apologetic smile, turning to Jisung to convince him that his boss isn’t as bad as he seems before your phone rings.

“He’s harmless, Jisung, just make him iced Americano everyday, praise his cats, and you’re good. Okay, I have to go now or I’ll be jobless in an hour! Byeee!”

Minho’s mouth has curled into a lovesick smile at your antics, waving at you until you close the door of your car. The way you naturally calm him down surprises him everytime, it’s like you’re unaware of how much power you have over him.

God, you really own every inch of his heart, don’t you?

Second chances are overrated.

People change, but once you pay attention to them a just a liiiitle more, you realize that they’re still the same. Lee Minho believes he doesn’t deserve any second chance from you, yet he finds himself seeking forgiveness the moment he looked into your eyes again. As selfish as it sounds, Minho wants your love. Nobody else’s, just yours.

He tried to fill in the empty space you left with other people, but none of them fit. It was always too much or too little, punching him right in his gut for ever thinking that what you two had was too much, that you were too much.

Seeing you fast asleep in his living room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori is another reminder that you were never too much.

You were, and still are, his everything.

Dori opens her eyes before jumping out of your arms, making you stir. Minho quietly strokes your hair to lull you back to sleep, but soon your eyes flutter open as well. “Hmmm look who’s here… the hottest man alive,” you mumble.

Minho points at himself. “Not that I’m surprised, but thank you.”

Your sleepy smile and the breathy chuckle that comes after make his stomach flip. It’s just a simple reaction, something you probably didn’t realize doing, but it feels breathtakingly intimate and loving to Minho. A small part of you that only him can see, something that will cross his mind sometime during work, making him wish time to pass quickly so he can rush back home. To you.

Damn, he promised himself not to let him picture a life with you as the love of his life, but look at his defense crumbling right in front of you because of a mere smile.

You seem to notice his dilemma, lips forming another smile. Opening your arms, you whisper, “Come here.”

The voices in his head are drowned by your request, it’s echoing inside his head like a deathly spell. You have him in your embrace nanoseconds later, curling your hands around his neck as he completely succumbs to his longing.

Minho’s head buzzes with the need to tell you that he loves you, wants you, and misses you to the point that he almost asks you to please please please please forgive him and take him back.

“Okay.”

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering to yours. You chuckle at his reaction, cupping his cheeks with your warm hands. “Say that again.”

“Say… what again?”

Minho blinks up at you, tiny groans of regret escaping his lips when he realizes that he just spilled everything out loud. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I know this isn’t about me, but—”

“Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did,” Minho says. “But I want to go according to your pace.”

“If I didn’t want the same thing I wouldn’t be here, Minho.” Your voice is as sweet as honey, hypnotizing him into dropping his hopeless pretense. “I’ve built a new home that truly feels like home. It’s probably just a small house, filled with everything that makes me me. But it feels like a beautiful kingdom, and it’s not complete without you in it.”

You don’t have to say it; the way you hold his gaze with such a raw, pure sincerity and the way you asked him to be with you as if he’s the best person in the whole world are enough to let Minho know that he’s all forgiven.

Feeling a tug at his shirt, he meets your expectant eyes once again. “Are you going to continue staring at me like that until we fall asleep?”

The last traces his fear for disappointing you melts away as you start stroking his hair. “I love you,” he rasps, unconsciously leaning in until his lips brush over yours. “My precious moonlight, I’ll do my best so you won’t ever have to erase me again. I love you, Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

You barely manage to nod before Minho finally crashes his lips against yours, not giving you any chance to steal a breath as he lets his feelings overtake himself. He explores every part of your lips like a madman and you accept whatever he gives you, trying to keep up with his feverish kisses and letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back.

The sudden urge to see you encourages him to pull away. Minho says nothing for a while, only looking into your eyes with silent adoration. Still breathless, you prop yourself up to reward him with a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, the sweet gesture causing Minho to attack you with a series of playful smooches.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask in between kisses, giggling when Minho switches your positions, you’re now lying on top of him.

“This?”

You pinch his cheek. “I gotta admit it feels kinda nice to hear you saying please so many times.”

Minho arches an eyebrow at your cheeky remark. “Is that so? Wait until you find out how much I like hearing you beg.”

“Minho!” you exclaim, dropping your head on his chest to hide your flushed cheeks. He wraps his arms around you, ready to make you even more flustered before accidentally locking eyes with his cats. You lift your head when you feel his body stills, following his gaze.

“Oh no,” you murmur. “The kids saw that, didn’t they?”

He smiles sheepishly at each of them, somehow feeling like he’s gotten caught by his parents. “This kind of thing happens when you love someone,” he attempts to joke. “So get used to it, okay kiddos?”

You nudge his chest with your chin. “God, you’re shameless.”

“They’re cats!”

“Then why are your ears so red?!”

Minho tuts. “That’s it. We need to do this more often so they’ll get used to it.”

As he silences you with another searing kiss, Minho almost malfunctions at how addicting and comforting it is to have you as his again. It’s impossible to fathom all of his feelings for you into words, yet he still hopes you’ll feel every single one of them.

And you do, because Minho is yours. Entirely yours.

“How did you pass your driving test? Did you bribe them or something?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to answer Seungmin’s accusation, eyes glued to the road.

“Watch it,” Minho warns monotonously while you’re gripping his hand, too scared to witness the younger trying to drive. Seungmin shrieks in horror when Hyunjin hits the break almost too late. He glares at the passenger seats where you and Minho are seated. “Hyung can you just take over? Or at least switch seats with me?”

“I can’t.” He points at you. “Y/N is scared as hell and I’m not gonna let you hold her hand.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath when several other cars pass him. “Give me a break! This is my first time driving at the highway,” he argues. “And I was supposed to borrow Chan hyung’s car! Driving your car makes it even ten times scarier!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my car?!” your boyfriend protests.

The three men continue talking over each other, causing you to roar, “SHUT UP!! Hwang Hyunjin, if you take your hands off the wheels you’re gonna die before you even scratch the car!”

Twenty painful minutes later, Hyunjin succeeds in parallel parking the car with the help of a very frustrated Seungmin. The two boys are heading to the orphanage right away, leaving you and Minho alone for your little date.

Minho opens the trunk, setting it up quickly before pulling you to sit beside him, handing you one of the toasts he packed this morning. “Whoa, the moony park is even more beautiful during the day,” you muse, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Should we come here more often at this hour?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with me.”

Minho snorts at your cheesy answer, but you still sense his wary from the way he keeps glancing at you from time to time. “Is this about the erasure recording you found in my room yesterday? Is that why you took me here?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still keeping it. I thought we agreed to destroy it,” he says, doing his best to conceal his uneasiness. You initially thought it was a great idea to forget it ever happened, but no, you’re not running away. You want to accept all the consequences of the decisions you have made, especially this one.

“We did, but then I realized I didn’t want to. I don’t want to erase anything anymore, Minho. I want to live life as it is. It’s a memento from the most important period of my life, and while it hurts, it’s a part of me.” You throw your arms around him, squeezing his body until he turns to you and return your hug. “It’s also a reminder that what we have is stronger than anything, don’t you think? I erased you and I still fell in love with you again. Like an idiot.”

Relief washes over you when Minho chuckles, carefree and amused. “You’re not an idiot,” he teases. “You just have an exceptional taste, and I’m way too irresistible. Let’s face it, you were already crazy for me even before I gave you my card.”

“No I wasn’t! I just thought you were attractive!”

“I am the hottest man alive.”

You sigh. “You’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” he affirms. “Because you’re right. It’s time to stop trying to forget our past. I’ll never forget the fact that you’re calling me the hottest man alive, just like I’ll never forget how much I’ve hurt you. And how much I’ll always try to make it up to you.”

You laugh at his comparison. “I honestly can’t tell whether we’re having a serious conversation or just trolling each other.”

“It’s my talent, baby. Life is always fun with me.”

Although the park has become more crowded and your boyfriend is never big on PDA, you have no choice but giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything for me,” you whisper. “Just love me.”

“Hmm.” His lips stretch into a loving smile, the one smile reserved for your eyes only. “That I do.”

Minho isn’t a prince charming who sweeps you off your feet. He is your wandering prince and you’re his moonlight, illuminating his gloomy world. You show him that he doesn’t have to wander for the rest of his life, that he can call you home and stay.

And Minho will always be with you, showering you with the love you deserve. He’ll be the one who fight the demons for you and with you, he’ll be the one who reminds you over and over again how strong and precious you are whenever you lose faith in yourself. Together, you are moonlit. Together, you are complete.

528 notes · View notes

muertawrites · 4 years

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Two Halves - Chapter One (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 3,700

Author’s Note: I decided to set this a few years after the war, when Zuko is Firelord. I didn’t want to stray too far from what was canon in the series - what with Katara being the only bender left in the Southern Tribe and also trying not to add extra family members because that always feels weird to me - so the reader in this story is a girl from the village who lost her parents to a raid and was essentially adopted into Sokka and Katara’s family; she stayed behind to watch after the tribe when they left to help Aang, and now, as the chief’s surrogate daughter, is arranged to marry the Firelord to help bring the two nations together. Chaos and sweet, tender romance ensues. This is also going to be a mini series! I have no real plot and no idea how long it’s going to be, but that just adds to the fun of it all. Stay tuned.

~ Muerta

“You can’t be serious.”

Sokka, seated beside you, instinctively offers you his hand, which you willingly, eagerly take, gripping it tightly in your lap. You can’t decide if you feel anger or fear; the two mix sourly in your stomach.

“I am,” Chief Hakoda says. His tone is even, and infuriatingly understanding. It makes you want to scream. “Your presence in the Fire Nation will be key to unite the nations in peace once again. They’ve been closed off from the rest of the world for too long - you’ll be an ambassador for our people.”

“Then make me an ambassador,” you snap. “Marrying me off to the Firelord is no better than letting him come here and colonize us.”

Hakoda glowers sternly at you. You shrink back, Sokka giving your hand an assuring squeeze.

“Firelord Zuko has made great strides to restore what his ancestors destroyed in the years since the war,” Hakoda scolds. “He’s an honorable, respectable man. I expect you to treat him as such.”

You look back up at him, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh.

“I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” you ask softly. Your voice quivers, revealing the terror behind your rage.

Hakoda’s expression softens as he stands. He helps you onto your feet, holding you gently at the elbows and looking apologetically into your eyes, one of his hands reaching to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Just because the war is over, it doesn’t mean the need for sacrifice is,” he tenderly says. “You’ll do great things as the queen of the Fire Nation. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust Zuko to treat you well.”

In Hakoda’s eyes, you see the man you knew as a child, the man who brought you into his family when you lost your own to a Fire Nation raid. You love him as much as you loved your own father, and know he loves you as much as his flesh and blood children; you trust that he would never put you in harm’s way.

Hakoda leans forward and kisses your forehead, holding you close for a long moment before letting go, breaking contact with you completely. The pain on his face tears a gaping hole in your heart.

“You leave in three days,” he tells you. “You’ll be in good hands - I promise.”

Though you know it isn’t for the last time, leaving the Southern Water Tribe hurts so much you think it might kill you.

You cruise across a calm ocean in a Fire Navy ship; luckily Sokka was allowed to come with you as emotional support, as well as to represent the tribe at your wedding. The presence of Zuko’s uncle is also calming to you, despite how little you know him, and how not long ago you would have considered him an enemy. There’s just something about Iroh that makes you feel safe, and you only hope the same holds true when you meet your husband to be.

“Zuko sent me to ensure your safe passage,” Iroh told you when you first boarded the ship. “Think of me as your guardian spirit.”

You stand on the deck, basking in the newly warm weather and taking deep breaths of fresh ocean breeze. The peace of the moment helps you lose yourself, forgetting your fate entirely, if only for a moment.

“How ya feeling?”

Sokka sidles up next to you, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder. You reach up and curl your fingers around his, sighing.

“Awful, now that you’re here,” you tease.

Sokka chuckles.

“I could still make good on that promise I made when we were kids,” he offers, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into the side of his sturdy, familiar body. “I don’t think Suki or Dad would be really happy about it, though.”

You let out a huff of laughter, remembering all the times you used to play together before the war brought you closer; you used to have intense crushes on each other, and Sokka always promised that he would marry you when you both got older - plans that changed when you effectively became siblings. You lean your head into his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence.

“I’m just scared,” you tell him. “I always planned for great adventure in my life, and to help people, but… this doesn’t seem like the right way. It feels like I’m being taken prisoner.”

“They say that having too many plans for one’s life keeps one from finding their true potential.”

You turn, meeting Iroh’s gaze as he crosses the deck to where you stand. You part with Sokka and bow respectfully, trying to hide the embarrassment that heats your skin.

“I apologize, General Iroh,” you greet him. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

Iroh tuts at you, placing a hand on your shoulder to gently straighten you up. He meets you with a kind gaze and a soft smile.

“Fear is to be expected, my dear,” he says. “You can’t have a great adventure without also facing a great fear.”

He turns and peers out across the water, inhaling and releasing a deep, contented sigh.

“The weather is lovely today,” he notes. “Why don’t we all enjoy it together, with a pot of tea?”

And so a tea set is brought, along with a table and cushions, and you and Sokka join Iroh as he demonstrates how to brew the perfect pot of jasmine green, generously serving each cup. He toasts to your being together, and you drink heartily, savoring the exquisite taste of his famous tea.

“I understand how you must feel,” Iroh addresses you once you’ve all settled. “Coming to a strange country, among people responsible for so much of the pain you’ve experienced; you’re exceptionally brave for doing what is best for your people.”

Iroh takes your hand, cradling it between both of his.

“I am sorry for how my nation - my family - has hurt you,” he says. “My nephew and I only want happiness for you with us, and we will do all we can to ensure it; I give you this vow among his.”

He squeezes your hand tightly, and you grip back, accepting his promise. You bow again, lowering yourself so that your face is almost level with the deck of the ship.

“Thank you, General Iroh,” you reply. “Your generosity means everything to me.”

When you sit up, Sokka places a hand at your back, giving you a comforting smile.

“Zuko’s a good guy,” he assures you. “I really think you’ll learn to like him.”

Your arrival in the Fire Nation, much to your surprise, is met with celebration. As your ship pulls into port, army and navy officers in full ceremonial regalia perform displays of their bending, a traditional band playing cheerful, joyous music to welcome you to shore. A procession of military vehicles escorts you through the streets of the capital to the palace, citizens emerging from their homes and businesses to catch a glimpse as your carriage rolls by. The people who manage to see you are elated, if not curious, staring at you with wide eyes and rapt attention; Iroh explains that many of them have never seen a foreigner, as travel to the nation is only just starting to become somewhat commonplace. You’re confronted by the beauty and grandeur of the city - the tall, elegant buildings with their ornate details are far from anything you’ve ever seen in person, even with the rapid development of the Southern Tribe.

In the palace, you’re immediately whisked away to your own wing, your quarters designated to a set of quaint buildings circling a scenic courtyard. Tradition dictates that, from the time of your engagement, you aren’t allowed to see the man you’re meant to marry until you’re both at the alter; the first few days of your time in the Fire Nation are spent in seclusion, resting off the fatigue of travel and acquainting yourself with the new culture you must now call your own. Though you have to keep your distance, you’re relieved when, on your first morning in the palace, you find a letter on your doorstep, scrawled in a refined, graceful hand and addressed from the Firelord himself.

Hello, it says, Zuko here.

I wish I could introduce myself in person, but unfortunately, this will have to do for now. Sokka has told me much about you in the years we’ve known each other, and he always speaks of you highly. My uncle is also already enamored with you, and tells me he already considers you family, so I hope this brings as much comfort to you as it does to me. I don’t think I could have chosen a better woman to rule at my side.

I have to admit that I’m nervous about getting married. I still feel like I’m too young, and still just figuring things out. But I guess if I can lead a country and make peace after a hundred years of war, I can have a wife and make her happy. I hope I do make you happy - I hope we can be close friends and lead the nation strongly together, for the better of both our homes.

Please write to me if you need anything. Sincerely yours, Firelord Zuko.

The candidity and awkwardness of his writing makes you smile, your mind at ease being able to put a voice to his name. You decide to write him back immediately.

Hello, Zuko, you write.

Your letter has already made me feel much better. Your uncle is a very sweet, very wise man, and I’m thankful that you sent him to watch over me - he makes me feel like I already have a little piece of a home and a family here. Meeting the man who raised you, I have faith that you’ll be a good husband to me.

I’m very scared because, unlike you, I’ve never led a country or had to negotiate peace - getting married is the biggest responsibility I’ve ever had. I want to help people, though, and if I can help people by leading them out of the darkness of war, I’m very happy to do it. It isn’t as terrifying knowing you’re also nervous; I’m glad we can be nervous together.

Please write to me as much as possible until the wedding. It would be nice to get to know my husband before I marry him. Sincerely yours, the bride.”

For the following days, you and Zuko exchange multiple letters; you have one waiting for you every morning, receive a reply by midday, and end each night wishing him pleasant dreams. You learn that he’s very intelligent and, though quite subdued, has a sense of humor much like your own. He has a passion for weaponry and the art of combat, as well as for storytelling and music (he tells you that dancing has recently been unbanned in the Fire Nation, and wonders if you’ll be able to teach him any Water Tribe dances; you promise to help as much as you can). The more you write to him, the less daunting the idea of your marriage seems, and you find yourself feeling excited by the idea of finally meeting him.

The day of your wedding starts early. You’re woken at dawn, fed a breakfast of tea and jook (both prepared by Iroh, and sent on a tray beside a polished wooden box - inside is a traditional hair comb and a note from the old man, explaining that the comb was given to his mother by his father on their wedding day; the gesture sends you to tears), then sent to the palace baths to be buffed and primed for your wedding attire.

You’re stripped down and steeped in multiple perfumed liquids, scrubbed with an array of soaps and exfoliants, and washed so thoroughly you think your handlers might have exposed an entirely new layer of skin. They wax every single hair from your body as well; you only attempt to draw the line when they reach your nether area.

“Please don’t,” you request, firm but not commanding. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”

The beautician scoffs at you, pushing you back onto the waxing table and forcefully spreading your legs apart.

“Foolish girl,” she huffs. “Of course you will. Royal marriages must always be consummated on the wedding night - the Firelord will want as many heirs as you can give him, as soon as possible.”

Her brute words make you sick to your stomach, and as she rips away the hair between your thighs, tears roll down your cheeks from both pain and horror. You want to believe the man who’s been writing to you for the past five days would never force himself onto you in the name of tradition, but it dawns on you once again that you don’t truly know him, and can’t anticipate his actions.

Once you’ve been wrung out from your time at the bath house, you’re sent back to your sleeping chambers, where you’re pleased to find not only lunch waiting for you, but visitors as well.

“Katara!” you cry, flying across the room and into her arms. She laughs, hugging you so tightly you can hardly breathe.

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” Katara cries, whirling you around a few times before setting you back onto your feet. “You already look so beautiful! How do you feel?”

“I’m terrified,” you tell her, “but so much happier now that you’re here.”

“Don’t forget me!”

Aang waves from behind Katara and you shout with glee, greeting him in the same manner you did her. He also crushes himself against you, and when you pull away, you cup his face between your hands.

“You look older!” you exclaim, squeezing his cheeks. “You grow every time I see you!”

Aang laughs, pushing your hands away with a pink blush creeping over his nose and ears.

“I’m a grown man, and the avatar,” he says, teasingly poking your shoulder. “You can’t keep treating me like I’m still twelve.”

“I can and I will,” you jest, lightly punching him in the stomach. He cackles and puts you in a (gentle) headlock, rubbing his knuckles into your skull to tangle your freshly washed hair.

“Hey, kids, that’s enough,” Sokka scolds playfully as he enters the room. “Let’s eat, otherwise I’ll be way too tempted by the spread at the reception tonight.”

Lunch with your siblings is the last moment of relative calm you have before the wedding and its reality truly start to set in. After the meal, Sokka and Aang leave to help Zuko with his own preparations, Katara staying to help you with yours. Your handlers navigate you into your dress, a traditional gown and robes made of many layers of fine silk and embroidered with dragons and native Fire Nation flowers; the train and sleeves fall so far behind you, you worry about tripping or scuffing the fabric. Once you’re dressed, your face is painted white, your features then outlined as if they were being drawn anew into your skin. You hardly recognize yourself once the handlers are finished with you, the anxiety you felt upon learning of your engagement returning with newfound ferocity.

Katara is the one to style your hair. Keeping with custom, she knots a portion of it atop your head in a tight bun, using the comb Iroh gave you to hold it in place. She then takes the remainder of your hair and braids it into two sections on each side of your face, the way it would be worn in the Water Tribe; she laces each braid with a string of beads from home, crystalline blue totems to ensure happiness and long life hanging at the end of each, contrasting beautifully with your gown. She cries when she steps back to look at you, carefully dabbing at her tears so as not to ruin her own makeup and dress.

“You’re so gorgeous,” she tells you. “I’m so glad Sokka never married you like he said he would, he would look awful at the alter next to you.”

You laugh, opening your arms and hugging her tightly, forcing your own tears back for the sake of the effort that’s been put into your costume.

For the last few minutes before the wedding, you’re alone; you stand outside the doors of the palace’s grand courtyard, flanked on both sides by guards, listening nervously as Iroh (who’s officiating, per his nephew’s request) praises you and recites a poem in your honor. His sentiments are exceedingly affectionate and should move you, but all you can think of is Zuko; what will he think of you? Will he like you as much in person as he did in writing? Was he just pretending to like you for the sake of your union? What if he didn’t think you were pretty? What if, like the beautician said, he forced you to sleep with him tonight, simply because it’s what’s meant to be done? You chew at your nails, biting them so hard that some of them start to bleed.

Music swells from inside the courtyard, and suddenly the doors before you swing open. You hold your head as high as you can, stepping forward with as much grace as you can manage and beginning to traverse the impossibly long aisle to the wedding altar. You breathe deeply, scanning the group of people standing before it - you see Katara first, and she nods encouragingly, looking like she’s about to cry all over again. Your eyes sweep over to Sokka, standing beside her, and he seems somewhat shocked by your appearance - not that you blame him, seeing as you look like a complete stranger, even to yourself. Iroh gazes at you from the center of the altar, wearing the expression of a proud father that makes you wish Hakoda were there. Aang stands beside Zuko, and you can tell from his face that he was bored by this whole display until you emerged from hiding; you stifle your laughter at his predictable, endearing disposition.

Finally, your eyes fall on the groom. The first thing you notice is his stare, cutting into you as he watches you approach; his chiseled, angular features have fallen into an awed expression, one that causes a giddy tickle in your chest. He’s tall, slim, with broad shoulders that carry his wedding robes proudly - his clothing matches yours, the only difference being the armored sheath across his chest that signals his status as ruler of the Fire Nation. You’re reminded that his father wore it before him, and a shudder runs through you as you recall all you suffered at his hands; you push it from your mind, climbing the altar steps to stand beside your betrothed. He gently takes your arm, a warm, timid smile breaking across his lips.

“Spirits,” Iroh addresses the crowd, “we gather before you to join this man, this woman, and our two great nations in a union of peace and prosperity. With your blessing and guidance, their souls will form two halves of a great whole, coming together to foster a new era of love and commitment not just for their people, but for each other. The bride and groom will now recite their vows.”

Iroh nods towards you, and you lower yourself onto your knees, bowing before the Firelord. You clear your throat, hoping that the entire country doesn’t hear the quiver in your voice.

“My lord,” you begin, “I give myself to you as completely as I give myself to my tribe. I swear, from this day forward, to walk confidently by your side in all your endeavors, to uphold the honor of our nations and families, and to be a guiding light into the future for every citizen of the Fire Nation. I will be your support, your comfort, and your ally in all aspects of our life together, and will serve you as loyally and dutifully as you serve me.”

You stand, taking one of the rings that sits upon the altar and slipping it onto Zuko’s finger; his skin is warm, his palms rough, and he shakes as violently as you do.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of our union, to represent the bond that holds us for all our days.”

Once you finish, thankful you didn’t stumble over your words or forget them completely, Zuko kneels, mirroring the way you bowed to him.

“My lady,” he recites, “by my word, I will serve you honorably and affectionately for all our time together. If you should ask for my compassion, I will give it; if you should seek after my heart, I will offer it willingly; and if I should stray from my path, I will follow you back onto it. I vow to you my devotion, and to bring you happiness and freedom. I trust in you the power to lead and govern my people as justly as I do.”

He stands and takes the other ring, delicately placing it as you did his.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of our union, to represent the bond that holds us for all our days.”

In most weddings, this would be the moment when the bride and groom embrace each other in a devoted, passionate kiss; instead, Zuko takes your arm and you face the court of respected leaders and diplomats from across the four nations, gripping each other tightly - you hold each other as if you’re the only support the other has to keep standing. Iroh’s typically soft, pleasant voice booms from behind you:

“I present the lord and lady of the great Fire Nation.”

Everyone in attendance folds onto their hands and knees, bowing as the band once again begins to play. You descend from the altar, your head feeling like it’s floating miles above your body, and exit through the doors you’d been shivering behind only minutes before - this time, with your husband beside you.

#muerta's works #two halves #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #prince zuko #prince zuko fanfic #zuko fanfic #zuko fanfiction #prince zuko fanfiction #atla fanfic

838 notes · View notes

def-initely-soul · 4 years

Text

house rules {2}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 19.6k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

Next morning, on Christmas eve, you try to be as nonchalant as you can. Thankfully your walls are thick enough so no one took notice of your late-night shenanigans and what happened between you before Hoseok’s interruption was barely anything out of the ordinary.

Thankfully you get yourself distracted with the preparations for this evening. Every year the five of you plan a traditional Christmas dinner, idea courtesy of Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s minds, where every single one of you was assigned to different tasks.

Seokjin is in charge of the roasted turkey, as he is every year, Hoseok will cook his famous vanilla-roasted sweet potatoes, Jimin will prepare a cauliflower soup and Ana is always in charge of the desert. This year choosing the recipe of a Buche de Noel.

You’re left with the simple task of making smooth mashed potatoes and bringing the booze.

Even though simpler than what others have to do, it gives you time to be alone and focus on something else other than Jimin. Whether you’re cooking or going to the store to pick up the alcohol, your time is productively filled with anything other than thoughts of him.

You take a nap around midday, leaving the kitchen free for the guys to use. Taking a hold of this opportunity to stay clear of Jimin’s gaze. You make sure your interactions are limited between the lines of what is only necessary, even when the preparations are done and you sit around the table.

Ana and Seokjin arrive together, the turkey the size of a small TV, which Seokjin himself puts on the table. Not letting anyone else help him or carve it, flashbacks of last year when Jimin tried to carve it and nearly dropped it still etched to everyone’s memory.

You help Ana move the desert to the fridge for later, and as all of you take your places at the dinner table, you feel a particular set of eyes on you.

Thankfully you don’t sit next to him so you don’t have any one-on-one conversation like you do with Seokjin sitting to your right. You only talk to him when the conversation involves the whole group and that’s only to not alert anyone that something is off.

Your mind is swarmed with memories of Jimin’s look. With the way he’s looking at you now.

You ignore it in favour of talking to Ana at the end of the table as she rumbles excitedly about the party next week. You immerse yourself in that conversation, going lightly over some details and pouring another glass of wine as Seokjin passionately joins you.

Although, even if you’re engrossed to something else you can’t help but notice one thing.

He never mentions Dinah.

And that gives you magnificent, dreadful hope.

It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re in an awfully good mood.

The party is in full bloom, the essence of joy and excitement wafting through the air, people dancing their worries away and laughing under the neon-lights (Ana really went all-in in the decoration department), having fun in what can only be a fitting welcome for a bright New Year.

The mulled wine has gotten slightly into you, landing you in that perfect spot between sober and tipsy, just enough to elevate your already high spirits. Besides you’re also celebrating finally finishing your book. It’s been a bitch of a struggle but finally, you’ve gone and did it. Finally booking an appointment with a publishing company that took an interest in you after reading one of your drafts you’ve previously sent them.

And well. Dinah isn’t here.

“I cannot believe I’m talking to the next Stephen King!” Hoseok yaps excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder, voice raised higher than normal due to the several “old-fashioned” he managed to throw back.

You grunt from the sudden weight as he leans a bit too much on your side to stand up. “Okay, step it down a notch, buddy,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder.

He thinks it over before-. “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

Your eyes widen, an involuntary laugh escaping you. “I said step it down a notch, not climb the whole mcfreakin ladder?” Hoseok giggles happily, before his eyes rest on the hostess, who’s currently talking to a coworker, gleeful smile in full bloom.

He waves at you to lean closer to him and you oblige. “See that girl over there?” he whispers to you conspiratory, pointing at Ana who seems oblivious to your conversation. You chuckle at his drunk antics but decide to appease him and nod.

A blissful smile takes over his lips. “Imma marry her someday.”

You barely keep your smile at bay. Honestly, Hoseok is whipped for Ana and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind, so it doesn’t sound weird coming from him. You’re willing to bet his wish is gonna come true someday. It’s just a matter of time.

Though you’re happy for your friends, you can’t let this teasing opportunity pass you by.

“Hey, champ, I got some bad news for you…” you press your lips together in mock-sadness and Hoseok’s face falls.

“She has a boyfriend,” you deliver the final blow and his eyes widen. Before he bursts into tears.

At least a couple of people stare at you, as Hoseok bawls his eyes out and you can’t stop cackling. Oh, god, you didn’t know he was this drunk, he was perfectly fine moments ago! Although to be perfectly candid, he has a low alcohol tolerance, so really this one is on you.

Ana shows up after a few seconds, worry etched into her features after seeing her boyfriend cry like a baby. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asks him, obviously more sober than him, but once she sees you laughing, her eyes narrow. “What did you do to him?”

You shrug, your expression being the poster-child for innocence. “Nothing! I just told him you have a boyfriend.”

This sends another wave of tears down Hoseok’s cheeks and Ana laughs incredulously.

“Is it true? Do you have a boyfriend” Hoseok struggles to ask through his hiccups and Ana can’t repress the lovesick smile on her lips.

“Yes and he’s a giant baby.”

“Does that mean I still have a chance?”

Ana chuckles before pressing a kiss on Hoseok’s pouty lips. “It’s you, you dufus! Now, come on, let’s get you to lay down…”

“Really?” he says with the most childlike smile you’ve ever seen on him. And only seconds later it turns into a smirk. "Oh, I will lay down, I will lay down so hard that you-” he struggles to complete his sentence, “that you’ll want to lay down with me…”

You groan out loud, not ready for the scene to turn into an NSFW one. “Are you horny all the time?” you complain out loud and the couple raises their brows at you.

“...Already know the answer to that one. Thank you very much five years of living together!” you admit regrettably and Ana tsks you.

“Serves you right for having the nerve to terrorize the sun himself!”

“That’s me!” Hoseok points to himself with a proud smile and you press your lips together to stop the giggles from escaping as Ana rolls her eyes fondly at her boyfriend.

“I’ll get him to my room-” Hoseok finger guns her, winks and blows her a kiss, “could you please make him some coffee?” Ana pleads you as she struggles to push a drunk Hoseok down the hall.

“You got it, babe! I’m gonna roast this coffee so bad, it’s gonna go running to its momma!” you announce in the spur of the moment, but Ana just looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Doesn’t work for me, does it?” Ana just shakes her head and you huff. “I’ll go get the coffee…”

You drive through the crowd, barely avoiding the drinks spilling left and right and finally reach the kitchen. Thankfully there’s only like a couple of people around, so you reach for the french press easily, adding the coffee grounds and warming some water in the microwave.

“Why on earth are you having coffee with so much alcohol around and why does that weirdly make sense for you?” Jimin enters your vision, resting his hip on the counter in a mirror of your stance and you have to take a breath.

His dark blue hair is slicked back, revealing the magnificence of his eyebrows (yeap, that’s another spot of Jimin you’re weak about). He’s dressed in all black; black jeans, black T-shirt with an open neckline, a leather belt hugging closely at his hips, a dangly earring gracing his earlobe and a silver chain resting against his glistening collarbones. He has been dancing and all you wanna do is dive in and bite at the skin of his neck, glinting welcoming under the dimmed lights.

Focus.

“Give me a break, it’s not even for me…” you joke back, just in time to cover up your little zone-out. Jimin stares back confused.

“Who then-?” he makes a sound of realization before he chuckles. “Hoseok,” he responds and you nod, a giggle already on your lips.

After Christmas eve, when you refused to even speak to him, things became less weird. It seems like the two days you spent actively avoiding each other helped in restoring the dynamics back to normality. You’re not even sure who made the first move but after a few days, you were back to normal, as if that thing on the couch never happened.

Maybe it is for the best to pretend it never happened. No feelings are going to get hurt this way.

“Yeap, Ana took him back to her bedroom,” you reply, moving to pour the water into the french press.

Jimin raises an unconvinced eyebrow as he hands you a mug. “And are you sure they’re not gonna fuck back there?”

You take the mug with an appreciative nod. “Honestly, they’re probably fucking right now on their way there. Maybe they are, maybe they’re not. Maybe I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life walking into that and maybe I won’t.”

“And you’ll take those chances?” Jimin chuckles incredulously and you almost swoon at the way his smile lights up the room.

“This coffee won’t deliver itself!” you joke and Jimin’s smile turns bigger.

“Your service is greatly appreciated!” he says with an awful British accent and proceeds to laugh.

“Well, thank you good sir!” you play into it with a curtsy and both of you burst into happy, slightly intoxicated giggles.

Your eyes rest on the french press as the coffee grounds seep into the water and it’s like your lips have a mind of their own when they ask the following question.

“So, alone tonight?” you ask with fake nonchalance and you swear Jimin tenses.

You can’t help yourself. From the moment you realized Dinah was absent you wanted to know why. They’ve been dating for almost a month, so that means they’d still be all over each other, you figured they’d want to spend New Year's together.

So how come Dinah isn’t here?

Jimin nods, eyes absentmindedly following your fingers as they trace the marble counter.

“What happened to Dinah? Didn’t want to spend New Years with our ugly asses?” you joke, hoping to lift the tension off his shoulders and rejoice when Jimin cracks a smile.

“No, no. Actually, her friends are throwing a party too…” he simply says, not giving you another explanation even though something else clearly bothers him. You don’t ask further, figuring he’ll tell you if he wants to, so you move to press the plunger down and pour the brown liquid into the cup Jimin handed you earlier.

“And I actually didn’t …” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip.

God, this is straight-up torture.

“Didn’t…?” you urge him on, sensing his desire to say whatever’s bothering him.

He takes a breath.

“Didn’t have the need to invite her…?” he admits, eyes on the steaming cup of coffee, struggling to put his thoughts into words as you stare at him utterly confused. He didn’t have the need to invite her? Like, he didn’t care if she was here?

No, Y/N, don’t get your hopes up.

Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean.. I didn’t want to.”

And you find him staring at you again, with those intense, magnetic eyes and your breath is sucked out of your lungs.

He didn’t want to invite her. Why? What does it mean? Why did he do it?

And why is he looking at you like that?

Did he-?

“Surprise!” a familiar female voice echoes through the kitchen as Dinah throws herself literally against Jimin, hugging his waist with an excited smile. No concern in her eyes over your panicked faces.

You don’t know if she heard your conversation but if she did, she doesn’t show it.

Jimin’s wide, panicked eyes travel between you and Dinah. “Dinah, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending New Year’s at Minoh’s?” he turns around to bring her forward and the intimacy hiding in the domestic action drives a knife through your chest.

“That party was boring as hell. And I missed you,” she says with a blinding smile and leans in to press a soft kiss on Jimin’s lips, ripping your heart in two.

You can’t stand this. You can’t stand to watch as she kisses him right in front of you and you feel like an outsider, glimpsing at something you long for but can’t have. Is it always gonna be this hard?

You swallow the lump in your throat, gripping the cup tighter and force a smile on your lips just in time for the couple to miss your crestfallen expression.

It’s time to get out of here.

“That’s great! You’re just in time to spend New Year’s together!” you exclaim with forceful enthusiasm and Dinah nods excitedly as Jimin looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have to deliver this bad boy!” you smile, pointing at the mug and you start walking away, already waiting for the moment you don’t have to keep that smile on your face any longer.

That seems to wake Jimin up as his eyes widen. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Have fun at the party!” you interrupt him, keeping the smile on for a little longer, before you turn your back at them, smile disappearing, steps fast as you miss Jimin’s face filled with despair.

Your steps bring you back to the living room, already having delivered the coffee to Ana’s room. Although Jimin’s suspicions were correct and you walked into a scene you’d rather forget, closing your eyes to avoid any more damage on your retina, resulting in you leaving the couple with a half-spilt coffee.

Not that they’ll be needing it now anyway.

Stepping into the main area of the party you can’t help the sour mood that takes over you, watching everyone have a good time. You were also having a good time until Dinah arrived.

Which reminds you. What did Jimin mean back then? Was it just stupid you with your tendency to read way too much into things or did he actually mean what you wanted him to?

And if he did, why is he still dancing with her?

Your eyes are stuck to the couple in question, dancing in the middle of the living room as a mid-tempo dance track plays through the speakers, Dinah’s hands wrapped around Jimin’s waist as he sways her softly to the beat.

The night started out so well. You were having fun, for once all worries put aside as you didn’t have to think about the book or Dinah, or Jimin. You were happy.

But then someone decided to shit all over that happiness and you were back to the beginning. Having your heart broken by your best friend and he doesn’t even know.

You take a breath to calm the erratic beating of your cracking heart when you see a too familiar face emerging from the kitchen.

Oh no, what is Jaehyun doing here?

You move quickly, dreading to talk to him, hoping he won’t see you but, alas, luck was never on your side.

His eyes spot you all the way across the room, with numerous people in between like he has laser vision or something. A smile takes over his lips as he waves at you and begins walking towards you.

God, no. No, you can’t deal with him right now. He’ll probably want another date and you know he deserves to know the truth but you just can’t do it right now.

You’re quick to move to the balcony, trying to lose him through the crown but his voice keeps calling you even outside. You slip through the people and into the living room, stopping to see him briefly lose you as his eyes scan the balcony.

You escape into the kitchen, hoping he won’t look for you here and in your hastiness to hide, you fall face-first into Seokjin’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry, you need to move!” you say urgently, trying to hide behind the massive wall he calls his shoulders.

Seokjin regards you with a suspicious glare. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hide from Jaehyun!” you bite through gritted teeth as your eyes scan the open area behind you. With relief you realise Jaehyun isn’t anywhere near, just a bunch of other people and Jimin talking with Dinah and Hoseok.

Your heart still clenches uncomfortably when Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.

“Why are you hiding from Jaehyun? Didn’t the date go well?” he asks you purely confused and with guilt, you realize you never told him nor Ana that you bailed.

You bite your lip. “I didn’t go…”

Seokjin’s eyes widen comically. “What?! Why?! I thought you wanted to!”

You groan rubbing your palm on your face. “I just… didn’t feel like it anymore! And now he’s here, looking for me and I don’t know what to do! Who invited him anyway?”

At that Seokjin has the decency to look guilty. “I may have seen him at the coffee shop and invited him… But in my defence I didn’t even know you bailed on him!” he looks at you with a scolding glare and another groan leaves your lips.

“Oh, shit here he comes…” Seokjin looks carefully behind you and you steal a glance to indeed see Jaehyun stepping into the living room and walking straight towards you.

“Okay, fuck, let me think…” you mumble in thought when you see something on the ceiling, hanging just a few centimetres behind Seokjin.

“Got it!” you exclaim, and when Seokjin doesn’t follow, you push him back so both of you stand right beneath the thing hanging from the ceiling and then you point at it, knowing he’ll catch the drift.

Seokjin’s eyes follow your fingers, only to widen in horror when they rest at what you're pointing at.

Mistletoe.

“No! No, no, no, I’m not kissing you so you can get rid of him!” he hisses, eyes swimming in denial and disbelief. But you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s your fault he’s here! So step the fuck up Kyle!” you hiss back and Seokjin looks less than thrilled.

“Don’t quote vines to me, you heathen, I won’t hesitate bitch!” he responds and you know you’re halfway winning him over.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this…” you reply, mastering the perfect puppy eyes.

The sound of his favourite vine has him yielding in a matter of seconds, choking back a laugh before he rolls his eyes. “Fine. But we gotta hurry up, he’s almost here,” Seokjin relents, eyes falling behind you.

“Buckle up,” is the only thing you say before grasping Seokjin’s panicked face and press your mouths together.

You stay like that for a few seconds, simply pressing your lips together like an awful K-drama kiss though there’s no romantic music playing in the background. The kiss is at its best… underwhelming. That’s what you were lusting after all those years? It certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations.

You lean back, staring at Seokjin who barely manages to conceal his weirded out face. “Is he gone?” you whisper and Seokjin nods in relief.

“Yes, he’s gone…” he mumbles, letting out a breath as you let his face free and take a step back, finally breathing freely.

“Don’t ever do that again!” he exclaims, his words followed by a loud gagging noise.

“Anything for you Beyonce!” you say, sharing the sentiment and you grab a random shot glass on the counter, to wash out the feeling of Seokjin’s clumsy mouth on yours.

“We don’t tell anyone. We take this to the grave and live the rest of our lives feeling slightly awkward with each other. Sounds good?” Seokjin states with wide eyes and you laugh at his seriousness.

“Ay, ay, captain! Now take a shot with me to erase the memory for good!” you say, filling two glasses with tequila and you hand him one.

“To forgetting this ever happened!” he raises his shot and you follow his movements before downing the contents of the glass.

“Amen to that.”

Half an hour later, its time for the countdown so the New Year can officially begin.

The automatic clock on Ana’s TV screen reads 23:59:03 and you rush to gather your friends together in one place, so the New Year can find all five of you together as it has for the last four years.

The rest of the attendees also gather in groups; friends, couples, coworkers, newly made acquaintances but all shimmering with the vibrating delight to welcome the New Year and the opportunities that are bound to come.

Ana and Hoseok are already counting down the numbers - admittedly a bit too early -, and Seokjin passes you four tequila shots to celebrate once the clock strikes midnight. But then he’s left with an extra one and realization strucks you.

“Hey, where’s Jimin? He’s supposed to be here!” you yell to be heard amidst the loud chattering of the crowd, but your question remains unanswered when Seokjin shrugs his shoulders in loss.

Ana looks around to find said-man but it’s Hoseok that finally puts an end to the mystery. “Uh, actually he went home!”

Your eyebrows furrow, confusion apparent in your eyes. He’s never missed out on this! How could he leave? You always spent New Year’s together, the five of you, it was your unique tradition, one you’ve expected him to keep up with.

Maybe he was feeling a bit under the weather, you try to reason with yourself. Let’s not get mad at him before knowing the whole story.

“Wait, so he left without telling anyone? Is he okay? Did he even tell Dinah he’d leave?” you question back, aware of Ana & Seokjin’s wary gazes but you don’t bother to acknowledge them.

Thankfully, Hoseok still isn’t entirely sober to notice them either and start asking questions.

He just shakes his head at you. “Oh, no, they both left. Oh, the countdown’s started!”

As people begin shouting along with the voice on the TV you can’t help but stare aimlessly into space.

They both left. Jimin ditched you, all four of you to spend New Year’s with Dinah. Alone.

And it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It shouldn’t feel as much as a personal attack but it does. He left all four of you but it still feels like he specifically left you behind. As if he doesn’t care anymore. Before all that the chance of the two of you ever happening was abysmal. But it was still there, however small. You were fine with that cause at least you knew he valued you as a friend.

Now, you’re not even sure of that anymore.

You should be fine with him leaving. You’re just his friend.

And yet the heartbreak is overbearing.

Seokjin looks at you carefully as Hoseok keeps counting down to one, entirely unaware of what just happened as Ana counts with him but her eyes are on you.

You give her and Seokjin a weak smile, before averting your eyes quickly to count as well, not bearing to see the looks of pity in their eyes.

You hate this.

The clock strikes midnight.

You’ve never felt more alone.

The next morning finds you exhausted when you wake up on Seokjin’s couch. You’re not sure you could handle going back to the apartment and having Dinah and Jimin across the hall from you. Hoseok was going to spend the night at Ana’s, meaning firstly he kinda gave Jimin the pass to run wild and secondly you couldn’t crash at Ana’s. Of course, she insisted it was okay but you didn’t want to cockblock her on New Year’s. So Seokjin offered his home as an alternative which you happily accepted.

You’re dreading to go back to your flat, though already knowing it’s an inevitable curse, you leave a note for Seokjin to find when he wakes up and then you leave his apartment.

On the way home, you wonder if you should trek over to the donut shop around the corner for some heavenly delicacies but then you’d have to buy Jimin and Dinah some. And that is simply something you’re not willing to do.

Hopefully, they’ll be both asleep when you arrive, too tired to be up at 10 am on New Year’s, so you’ll get your chance to quietly slip into your room and avoid everyone for the rest of the week.

Maybe even a month until those stupid feelings finally decide to disappear.

You try your best to be as soundless as possible when you unlock the front door. You enter the living room on your tiptoes, closing the door quietly behind you before moving to throw your coat on the hanger.

The moment you think you’re alone passes by quickly when you hear the door of the fridge being shut and immediately turn around to see Jimin staring at you with bleary eyes. His hair is a mess as he’s clad in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants as his pjs, a cup of what must be steaming coffee on one hand as the other runs through his locks. You find yourself salivating.

“Where did you go this early in the morning?” his gruff voice comes out, purely confused and before you get to correct him, his eyes fall on your figure. And he realizes you’re still dressed the same as last night.

“Did you just get here?” he asks, his voice a tad too sharp and accusing to be considered friendly and your arms wrap around your middle protectively.

“Uh, yeah… I crashed at Seokjin’s… Too tired to come back after helping Ana clean up…” you joke, forcing a laugh to hopefully ease the sudden tension hanging in the air.

Though your airy laugh doesn’t reach Jimin. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall to his right, jaw tense in what seems almost as anger before he takes a quick sip of his coffee and slum the cup on the counter.

“Ugh… are you okay-?” your confusion is apparent in your voice as Jimin walks off the kitchen, down the hallway.

“I’m going back to sleep…” he mumbles through clenched teeth before he disappears inside his bedroom and closes the door with a loud bang.

You stare weirdly at his door, bewildered by his entire behaviour but you’re still too sleepy to let it get to you. So instead you opt for crawling over to your room and hide beneath the covers.

The days after New Year’s turn out weirder and weirder to the point of questioning your mental state.

Seokjin still feels somewhat awkward around you after the kiss but instead of avoiding you, as any normal human being would do, he actively seeks you out, clinging to you and following you around like a shadow, as if the over-exposure will help him get rid of the awkwardness faster.

True to your words, none of you have said anything about it to the others, so you were half waiting for everyone to be immediately weirded out by Seokjin’s sudden display of affection. But apart from Ana that gave you some scarce confused looks, the other two haven’t made a single comment, as if this is a completely normal situation. They barely blink when even yourself gets creeped out from Seokjin’s insistent coddling.

Which brings you to the other weird thing happening in the flat.

Jimin barely talks to you anymore.

You don’t have the slightest idea why. If you said something, or done something that offended him, you’re none the wiser. And how are you supposed to know when he barely greets you in the morning?

Every time you attempt conversation, there’s always something he has to do, which sounds completely ironic, given you were the one that kinda did the same before.

Not to cover your own ass but you did that for the sake of your friendship! If Jimin ever finds out you’re into him, you can’t bear to think the effect this might have on your friendship.

Whereas Jimin might as well be angry over such a small thing as you using his earbuds.

It wouldn’t have bothered you that much if it wasn’t for Dinah.

Well, she barely does anything, it's just that Jimin always goes to her when he has the chance. Nights spent with all five of you together munching on popcorn in front of the TV, turn into awkward gatherings as Ana and Hoseok pair up against you and Seokjin, leaving the two of you cringing whenever the couple does something too coupley.

At New Year’s Eve, he practically admitted he wasn’t that much into her anymore and now he’s always with her. Did he lie back then? And if so why?

Everything is wrong and you don’t know how to fix it.

If only Jimin hadn’t begun dating Dinah, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have realised you liked him, he wouldn’t have spent so much time with her, he wouldn’t abandon the four of you for her.

Although, a small part of you screams you would’ve realised you liked Jimin either way. It wasn’t about Dinah.

And yet you can’t help the loathing that emerges like bile in your throat when you hear her name.

Or when Jimin, after two weeks of avoiding the rest of you, announces you are to throw a dinner so you can get to know her better.

You feel the headache splitting your skull open.

It’s nearly impossible to hide your sour mood once Dinah steps into the apartment.

A switch has flipped and where there was a smile from joking around with Ana, now there’s a permanent scowl on your face as you refuse to even acknowledge the newcomer, as she greets the rest of your friends.

Once she says hello to you too, you mumble something that resembles a greeting, not even bothering to look at her direction, as Ana regards you with a warning glare.

Deep down you know most of your attitude comes from Jimin’s behaviour these last couple of days, and Dinah’s direct contribution is only at roughly 10%. But you’re stubborn, immature and putting the blame on her seems like an easy way to cope with the situation and the hurricane of feelings swirling in your mind.

No one said it’s the right one. But for now, it’s what keeps you from hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in self-pity. Not that you won’t do that later.

You result in setting the table with Hoseok in silence, not really in the mood to talk, as everyone else sits in the living room and you catch glimpses of their conversation.

Seokjin and Ana talk about a new addition Seokjin wants to put on the menu of his restaurant, while Jimin and Dinah dally on the other side of the room.

You think you’re gonna barf.

“Ugh… Y/N are you okay?”

You turn around at the voice, surprised to see Hoseok stare at you with confused and worried eyes. Shit, did he sniff out something?

“Ah, yes! Why?” you put forward your most cheery voice in the hopes it will throw him off.

“‘Cause you keep stabbing the meat with the forks…” he comments carefully, leaning a bit backwards as his worry grows, once your confused eyes meet his.

And then you look back to the meat and, surely, all the forks you were supposed to pass around the table are stabbed into the steaks on the centre of the table.

Your eyes widen as you press your lips together in horror. God, why can’t you just behave for once?

You rush to remove all the utensils, dumping them into the sink and you pick out new ones, as Hoseok keeps staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine!” you respond with a clipped voice and you’re not sure what Hoseok hears in your voice but he drops it, in favour of placing the napkins around the table. Though you can still feel his weirded-out stare from time to time.

Once the table is set, Hoseok calls for everyone to gather around and one by one flock to their seats.

And as you put the finishing touches, you can’t help but hear Jimin’s conversation with Dinah.

“We have ice cream for dessert, you’re gonna love this one, it’s heavenly!” he says with excitement.

“Oh, only if it’s vegan, me and regular milk don’t go along…” she jokes and as Jimin says he’ll have someone check, an idea pops into your head. A petty, childish idea but it gives you some purpose for now.

So, she’s lactose intolerant? It would surely be a shame if she were to eat normal ice cream.

And by “shame” you mean hilarious.

The little voice in the back of your head berates you for acting so immature but at this moment you desperately need this. You can be salty for one evening.

What’s the harm?

Once everyone’s plates are empty, the lot of you migrate to the living room, as you stay in the kitchen to get the ice cream out of the freezer.

Jimin told Ana to ask you to check for the ice cream some time ago, -can you believe it, he didn’t even ask you! He had to talk to Ana for god’s sake-, and you did. But just as you’d suspected it wasn’t vegan.

So your plan is good to go.

You have Seokjin help you carry the bowls of ice cream to the living room and you pass each one around as they’re expected with excited noises.

Ana almost moans at the delicious flavour and Hoseok chuckles at his girlfriend’s antics as you sit next to Seokjin and dive straight into your own bowl.

During dinner it seemed everyone got along just fine with Dinah, talking and joking together as if she’s been a part of this group for a long time. And it bothers you even more.

You also recognize her attempts to get close to you as well but really you can’t be bothered. It comes to the point where she talked to you and all you did is give her a one-word answer before turning your attention somewhere else.

Though right at this moment your attention is solely on her as she takes a scoop out of her ice cream.

“Mmm, it’s really good!” she says excitedly to a smiling Jimin, as she swoops in for another spoon.

But after a few seconds, her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, as she keeps the ice cream in her mouth, looking as if she’s trying to figure out something. You can barely contain your gloating.

“Uhm, this ice cream is vegan right?” she rushes to say, eyes growing just a bit wider with what seems like panic.

Ana turns to look at you and you answer with the most innocent look you can manage, acting like you just realised you didn’t.

“Oh, oops! I guess I forgot to check, sorry! Why, are you lactose intolerant?” you respond in the first complete sentence you’ve given her tonight, internally gloating at her misfortune.

She swallows, her eyes widen even more, traces of fear growing in them. “Ugh, no-”

What does she mean no?

“I’m allergic.”

At once every conversation ceases, all eyes resting on her, wide in shock.

Fuck.

Jimin is the first to react.

“What?! Shit. Are you okay, should we take you to a hospital?” he asks in panic, placing the ice cream as further away from her as he can while you’re left staring at her in horror.

“Well, since I can feel my tongue thwelling, I thay we thould,” she comments shaking, losing the ability to pronounce the letter “s” as more time passes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you struggle to say, full of remorse, but no one seems to hear you as the situation goes haywire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Seokjin is immediately on his feet. “I’ll drive you there, you guys clean up here okay?” he commands urgently and as you feel the guilt overwhelming you, you stand up form your spot in an instant.

“I’ll come with!” your voice trembles as you reach for your bag while Jimin and Seokjin help Dinah out of the apartment hurriedly.

But as soon as you speak Jimin’s furious eyes are on you.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

And then he slams the door behind them.

You’re left staring at the piece of wood with trembling eyes, as Ana and Hoseok simply stare at you, Hoseok’s eyes wide in shock as yours while Ana’s are filled with disappointment.

You. Fucking. Idiot.

It’s almost four hours later when Jimin and Seokjin return, finding only Hoseok in the living room waiting for them as he asks them how it went.

But Jimin doesn’t bother answering him as he instead marches with loud, angry steps towards your room.

On the other side of the door, your nails are nearly non-existent from all the nervous thinking that has plagued your mind for the last few hours. Your texts to both of them asking how Dinah was, were left unanswered and you were left brewing in your own nerves.

Until the door opens and Jimin walks in.

You freeze in your spot once your eyes meet his and see the undecipherable expression on his face.

You only manage to mumble a guilt-ridden “hi” and he closes the door behind him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath.

Although it seems to not do much.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

Your answer is immediate, full of regret. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Is she okay?” you ask, out of your wits with panic as you wait for him to answer.

He seems too tired, too exhausted as he responds. “They gave her an antihistamine, she’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh but then his eyes are full of rage as they rest on you again. “But do you realize what might have happened if we were a bit late?! She could have died!” he yells at you, voice full of unbridled outrage as his eyes grow even more with the passing of time and you feel smaller and smaller.

“I’m sorry!-” you repeat again, feeling incredibly awful with what you’ve done, “-I thought she was just lactose intolerant, not allergic!” you say in hopes of redeeming yourself even just a bit but maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say as it seems Jimin’s anger only grows.

“This isn’t the fucking point, Y/N!”, you flinch at the volume of his voice, “The point is you've been trying to sabotage this for weeks! You think I haven't seen the side-glances and the mocking giggles?! I fucking know you don’t like her but couldn’t you just pretend for my sake? Do you have to go to such lengths to let us all know you hate her?!” he spits at you with wild eyes and you fight the urge to wrap your arms around your frame.

“I didn’t poison her on purpose…” you mumble in explanation and your eyes stare at your feet, not daring to look at him, drowning in shame.

“No, but all the other things were!” he refutes with impatience, but then he sighs. His shoulders fall down but his jaw’s still clenched. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? I know what she did better than anyone, believe me, but people are allowed a second chance, and frankly, it’s not your place to decide if she deserves it or not. All I was asking of you was to be decent towards her because I was stupid enough to think you’re my friend above everything and you’d respect my wishes!” he confesses, face crest-fallen and what you once feared, -him looking like this because of you-, has finally come true. You can feel your eyes watering but you can do nothing to stop them.

“I am your friend!” you respond desperately with pleading eyes, trying to stop him from questioning how much he means to you. If only he knew exactly how much.

“Are you really?”, he questions back, “Because the rest of the guys are my friends too and they don’t have a problem with her. It’s just you! And if you can’t accept her and be happy for me then…” he stops, eyes falling on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze and you have an awful feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“...Then we’re better off as just roommates,” he delivers the final blow.

You can’t believe your ears. There’s no way, no way.

You feel your throat closing up. “...You don’t mean that…” you mumble in denial, eyes blurry and voice almost breaking at the possibility of losing your best friend.

Jimin still refuses to look at you, his lips pursed as he shakes his head. “Yeah? And you said you’ll support me no matter what so I guess we both said things we don’t mean.”

“Or I guess that was just you,” he says in a final tone, eyes serious this time on you before he turns towards your door to leave your bedroom. To leave your life.

You can’t breathe.

“Jimin-” you manage to stutter out although you feel like choking. You can’t lose him, you simply can’t.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he snaps back but stops himself before saying anything else, pressing his lips together.

Then he takes another breath. He collects himself and before you manage to stop him, he closes the door on his way out with a loud bang.

And you can’t move. Your eyes simply stare at the door, refusing to let any tear drop and you purse your lips, feeling a mixture of stubbornness and sorrow.

He left. How could he? How could he push you aside for her?! You’ve been friends for a little more than five years now and he ruins your friendship because of her?! Her?!

You rush to lock the door behind him with blurry eyes, putting the blame on him as for now you need this to stay sane.

Tomorrow you’ll know that everything was your fault.

But for now, you choose to believe otherwise.

You step back from your door, crossing your arms on your chest in defiance.

“If he doesn’t want to be friends then we won’t be!” you exclaim in an attempt to salvage your broken ego but once those words are out of your mouth, once they finally feel real, you can’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

You have to cover your mouth to drown the sound of your sobs.

You can’t let him hear.

At that moment there’s a knock on your door, before “Y/N? It’s Seokjin, can I come in?”

His voice is quiet, calm, reminding you that he and Hoseok probably heard everything. You can’t deal with it. You can’t deal with any of it.

“Go away, Seokjin…” you mumble with a low voice in order to hide the fact you’re crying.

You hear him sighing. “Come one, at least talk to me-”

“Go away!” your voice is coarse as you yell back, for a second not realising it was you. You know you're gonna regret yelling at him later, but you just want to be alone.

There’s silence on the other side. Then the echoing steps of someone leaving.

And then you break down in the middle of your room.

Alone.

The only sound coming from your quiet sobs.

{Jimin’s POV}

Keep it together. Don’t lose focus now just because she looks like she’s about to cry.

It’s easier said than done, but Jimin manages to remain focused on what he came here to do. Even if it’s just barely.

He can’t go on like this. Maybe if you were happy for him and actually supported him, things would be different. But when you act like a spoiled baby that didn’t get her wish with no excuse whatsoever when you were supposed to be okay with Dinah… there’s not much he can do.

Not when your behaviour acts as a false beacon of hope. One he can’t afford to see. Otherwise, he might do something he can’t take back.

He’s got to be firm and decisive.

So he turns around to leave before he takes it all back.

“Jimin-” he hears the breaking in your voice, knowing how much this may weigh you down but all he can feel right now is unfairness. It’s unfair how he wants to move on but with one single word he finds his resolve crumbling.

You shouldn’t affect him this much.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he begins but stops himself. What was he about to say? Something he shouldn’t, probably.

Still, you stop talking. And you just stare at him, with disbelief written in your eyes. He avoids those in favour of staying true to his words.

There’s no saying what he’ll do if he meets them.

So, he simply leaves your bedroom.

Marching through the small distance between your door and his, he can see Hoseok and Seokjin, from the corner of his eyes, staring.

They probably heard everything.

He steps into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, needing some space. To calm down, to take a breath, to finally think about what he just did.

You looked like you were ready to break down at any moment.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been that harsh with you. Maybe he was a bit too hasty, too vengeful in making that decision.

Someone knocks on his door.

What if it’s you?

His steps can’t take him to his door any faster.

But it’s just Hoseok.

“... what?” he hears himself get defensive once he sees your door still closed shut behind the other man.

Hoseok stares at him with understanding. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Jimin…” he comments with a soft voice, always knowing how to approach Jimin when he’s angry, better than anyone.

Jimin sighs, still feeling stubborn but he knows by the end of what Hoseok has to say, he’ll almost certainly listen.

“... Let’s talk about it okay? I’m sure Y/N wants that too…” at those words Jimin swears he feels a small pinch of pain on his chest. He wishes they’re true.

“Seokjin is also gonna talk to her…”

But those words manage to bring his stubbornness back full force.

There’s a chuckle coming out of Jimin but none of it sounds happy.

“Of course he will…” he snaps at Hoseok, who bites his lip once he realises his mistake. “Yeah, Hoseok, I think I’ll pass,” the bitterness is evident in his words, not bothering to hide it from the one person that knows the cause of it.

Hoseok’s eyes widen once he realises Jimin is about to close the door on him. “Wait, Jimin, don’t-”

“Goodnight,” is what Jimin simply says before closing the door on his best friend.

He can’t be sure when everything began to change. He can’t place a finger on the exact moment his feelings had changed.

On the exact moment, he fell in love with you.

Was it the moment you walked through the door as a roommate applicant? He can’t be sure. But somewhere along the way, the feelings bloomed, outgrew everything he ever felt for anyone.

He just was a bit late at realizing it.

When he woke up after you slept together and his eyes rested on you as you slept, he felt a pain in the middle of his chest. But it didn’t feel like a regular pain, it felt like his heart was expanding like he was experiencing growing pains. Because while he stared at you, he realised there was nothing else he’d rather do. You looked so serene, so at peace sleeping next to him, he never wanted the moment to end.

And that’s how he realised.

Of course, he had to push his newly-found knowledge aside when he saw you nearly going into panic mode. Just because he felt like this, didn’t mean you did too.

So he hid those feelings, playing it cool for the sake of being your friend.

But this shit was difficult when he was surrounded by you twenty-four-seven.

Right before Seokjin’s birthday he had sworn he’d finally tell you. He thought that maybe, just maybe you’d like him back, or at least he’d get to have a weight lifted off his chest.

But then he saw you hugging Seokjin…

He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything. He was just trying to reach the bathroom when he saw you wrapping your arms around Seokjin. Around the guy you had a crush on for the past few years. It was like a stab to his stomach, even more so when he knew you weren’t really into hugs and when you did hug someone, it usually meant a lot to you.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. He also couldn’t believe how much it hurt and how much he needed something to distract himself.

Or, rather, someone.

That’s how Dina came along.

He never intended to string her along this far though. At that night she was just a distraction, someone familiar who knew how to take care of him, despite everything that had transpired between them in the past.

But Dinah kept trying, kept fighting vigorously for that second chance and he couldn’t help but acknowledge how much she’d changed over the past year. So he let her back into his life, hoping that at least she’d help him forget about you.

And it worked for some time. Until that night.

Until the night you were supposed to go on a date with Seokjin and cancelled it because of him - he’s sure of it even if you vehemently denied it back then-. The night you were dressed on that tight, little, black dress, the one that reminded him of that night eight months ago and suddenly his mind was going haywire with thoughts, or rather, memories of you.

He swears he saw hunger in your eyes when his palm was on your thigh, scorching both of you at the connected spot and if it wasn’t for Hoseok’s interruption, he was sure he’d’ve lost control.

Jimin hates to admit it but that night he kept thinking of you, of your eyes, of your lips, of the way your thighs had fit around his waist back then, of the sound of his name falling from your lips as he touched himself, trying to drown his moans onto his pillow.

He couldn’t talk to you after that for a couple of days. Too ashamed, too embarrassed, too enamoured with you, he thought you’d be able to see right through him.

But once things got back to normal, they were ruined once more.

Dinah appeared at the worst of times at New Year’s. He was so close to letting you know how he feels, encouraged by your reaction when you ditched your date for him, which was another green light for him at the moment. But Dinah showed up and you were out of there before he even got a chance to explain.

Hoseok had found him then, drinking away his sorrows.

“And the worst of all is, she’s dating Seokjin, which I now realise makes me a big jerk and an awful friend as I keep trying to steal away his girlfriend,” Jimin mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

Hoseok seemed perplexed but that might have been from the near-alcohol-poisoning he just had before Dr. Ana “nursed” him back to health. “And remind me, how are you sure she’s dating Seokjin? They haven’t told us anything yet…”

Jimin stared into his drink, already sort of tipsy on alcohol and self-pity. “Saw ‘em huggin’...” he mumbled behind the glass. Hoseok had to do a double-take at that.

“What?” Hoseok responded in disbelief. “That’s it? Dude, I do that with Seokjin all the time, that doesn’t mean I’m dating him!”

Jimin sighed in annoyance. “It was more than that okay? There was this feeling to it! I could tell it wasn’t just a simple hug!” Jimin groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand.

Hoseok rolled his eyes at his friend. “Still you can never be sure by just a hug! Have you talked to her?”

“No, I tried to but Dinah came in and she left as soon as she saw her…” Jimin admitted and Hoseok almost laughed out loud at his friend’s idiocy.

“Bro, if that isn’t a sign to talk to her, then I’m not dating the most bomb person in the whole ass world.”

Jimin wasn’t impressed as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Hoseok wasn’t deterred. “I can see you have an objection here and it’s a complete disgrace to Ana’s name, so Imma pound you to logic city later, you limp dick, but right now you need to talk to Y/N!” he concluded as he shoved Jimin out of his stool.

Jimin groaned as he stood up, but as his eyes fell to the bottom of his drink, he realised Hoseok was right. He should’ve talked to you first. Maybe he had misunderstood and there was nothing going on with Seokjin.

And right then as he saw you bumping into Seokjin, he figured it was a great opportunity to find out what was happening between the two of you from both parties involved.

But as his steps got him closer and closer, he saw you kiss him.

He froze. He couldn’t look, couldn’t bear, but still, his eyes stayed glued to the both of you as your arms circled around his neck to press him closer.

Jimin felt like vomiting.

He turned around right then and there and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He gave Dinah a half-assed apology as he also sent her on her merry way and he left for his apartment. He couldn’t even tell Hoseok why he was leaving the party, only announcing his departure and disappearing.

It was the first time in years he spent New Year’s alone.

He hated it.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’ve done the worst sleep in ages.

You rub your eyes, immediately regretting it when the slightest touch has them stinging from how swollen they are from all the crying.

Right. It wasn’t just a dream.

You drag your feet begrudgingly across the floor to the bathroom to splurge some water on your face, in a futile attempt to calm down your puffy eyes. Before you’re off to the kitchen where Hoseok is currently eating his breakfast cereal.

Once he hears the sound of footsteps, he raises his head, only to see you awkwardly walk in the kitchen, eyes downcast as you go for the fridge.

“Hey,” you hear him say.

With your face facing the inside of the fridge you take a breath, letting the low temperature calm you down.

You knew it was coming. Hoseok definitely listened to everything along with Seokjin. And yet you don’t feel like replying.

Nonetheless, you turn around and acknowledge him with a tilt of your head as you move to have the coffee machine working.

“So… How you feeling?”

The question prompts a humourless chuckle out of you and Hoseok sighs in response.

“I know, that’s a lousy question. I just…” he takes a breath, eyes gentle on you, not at all judgemental as you’d expect them, after what you’ve done yesterday, “I mean I know Jimin’s side of the story, but I never heard yours…” he concludes, letting a soft smile take over his features.

Huh. Your side of the story.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you resolve to looking down at the floor as your hands grab tightly at your empty cup.

Hoseok, sensing your hesitation, sighs resigned but he doesn’t push you on it.

A moment passes when both of you remain silent until your coffee is ready. You pour the liquid into your cup, almost moaning in relief you don’t have to stay here another second.

But before you get to leave Hoseok speaks up again.

“I know things may look like a mess right now but I’m sure this won’t be the case forever. Jimin… yeah, he’s mad but you're his best friend. He’s gonna change his mind soon…” Hoseok’s gentle words reach you and, oh god, how do you want to believe them.

You turn to look at him and see the hope written in his eyes.

You give him what might have resembled a smile if you weren’t feeling so beat-down.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me Hobi…” you whisper and Hoseok’s face falls just a bit at how broken you sound.

“Things will change, I’m certain of it,” still he replies, eyes full of determination that make the slightest sliver of hope go through the cracks of your sorrow.

Right then another pair of footsteps echoes as Jimin walks into the kitchen.

His sudden arrival has you both freeze, eyes resting on the newcomer and while Hoseok keeps on looking at Jimin, you’re quick to avert your gaze, the lump in your throat growing.

A second passes where Jimin doesn’t move forward or backwards. Like he isn’t sure if you could be in the same room anymore after yesterday's events. Your heart pangs at the thought.

He coughs awkwardly.

“I didn’t know you were awake, I can come back later-” he begins softly, eyes avoiding yours as well, making the pain grow a little sharper.

“No, it’s okay, I was done anyway…” you interrupt him, hands gripping tightly at your steaming cup as if it is a life board.

And without another word, you’re out of the kitchen.

{Hoseok’s POV}

A week passes by and it seems there’s no hope for reconciliation on the horizon.

Both of you went the extra miles and rearranged your schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. Jimin spends nearly every night at Dinah’s, barely seeing the others and you spend days locked into your room under the pretence of writing, but really you’re just avoiding everyone.

The rest of the guys don’t know what to do anymore.

It’s a Friday afternoon when Hoseok is over at Ana’s place, the mood in his apartment too heavy to bear and he can’t bear this anymore.

“Babe, I’m back, they didn’t have any vinegar chips so I bought oregano instead. Can you imagine the disgrace?” he shouts as soon as he steps back into the apartment, after a small walk to the seven eleven down the street.

But instead of hearing his girlfriend’s welcoming back, he hears her sigh. Then he sees her walk around the corner from the kitchen with her phone pressed to her ear like she’s in a conference call.

“I still don’t understand why won’t you just tell him!” Ana speaks on the phone, sending a tired wave to her boyfriend who looks at her entirely confused.

Hoseok just takes his shoes off and plops himself on the couch, sensing Ana won’t be done with that phone call anytime soon.

There’s a silence from her side as she listens intently to what the other person is saying. Hoseok decides to open the bag of chips just to keep his hands occupied.

After a while, Ana talks again.

“But what if she doesn’t tell him?” she? First, she mentioned a “him” and now a “she”? Hoseok’s getting more confused by the second.

“And what about Jimin then? Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?” her voice is stern, like a mother berating her child and a sound of understanding leaves Hoseok’s lips, as he concludes Ana is talking to you.

There’s a small silence from your side, indicating no response to Ana’s question and so she keeps talking.

“And I’m talking about the whole truth Y/N.”

Hoseok’s intrigued. What whole truth?

“I know I was the first person to be against telling him about your feelings but with how poorly you handled the situation, I don’t think you can possibly make anything worse!”

At that, Hoseok’s eyes blow wide open. Feelings?! What feelings?!

He’s immediately up, approaching Ana with quick steps as she listens to your response. Your voice, even though muffled through the phone, sounds weaker, sadder. Disheartened.

Ana’s words are softer now. “But you’ll never be able to do this. You’ll never be ready but, the truth is, no one ever is. That’s kinda how it goes and that’s okay. But you gotta do it at some point, sooner or later,” she talks to you calmly, Hoseok sensing her sorrow at hearing you like this.

But he can’t shake the feeling that he can somehow help if he finds out what those feelings are.

Ana sighs tiredly as if what she just said didn’t have much of an impact. “Y/N-” but before she gets to respond you hang up.

Ana gasps while staring at her phone. “She just hung up on me, I can’t believe it, how dare?” she says to no one in particular as she rubs her hands on her face tiredly.

“Tough luck?” Hoseok comments wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana welcomes the embrace, her hands winding around his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“She just won’t listen! She’s so infuriatingly stubborn and it’s driving me nuts!” she blows a stray hair out of her face, accidentally tickling Hoseok’s skin in the process and he chuckles.

“Kinda like you then?” he teases as he finally pushes that stray lock behind her ear and she pokes out her tongue at him in retaliation before falling into peaceful tranquillity.

Hoseok hates to disrupt this but he has to ask her what all of those things meant. For the sake of Jimin.

“Hey, babe…” he begins and Ana hums in acknowledgement.

“When you talked about Y/N’s feelings…” he feels her stiffen in his embrace but nonetheless he carries on, “... what did you mean?”

Ana takes a breath. “I guess there’s no point in not telling you now…” she speaks softly before taking another breath, one Hoseok holds until he hears her answer.

“Y/N… she likes Jimin. Well I mean that’s what she says anyway. I think it’s way more than that…” Ana admits sadly but Hoseok’s mind goes into overdrive.

“Are you serious…?” he asks in what can be perceived as a calm demeanour but in reality, his head is about to explode.

Ana chuckles calmly, still in Hoseok’s embrace. “I know right?”

Oh my god, they’re both idiots, he thinks. But he has to do something now.

“Oh god, those giant baboons!” he almost yells, making Ana flinch and take a step back to look at him perplexed.

“Hoseok…?”

He laughs incredulously as he takes a step back, trying to process the situation.

“For how long?” he asks and Ana looks more weirded out by the second.

“Two months, give or take?” Ana responds with narrowed eyes.

Hoseok chuckles. “That’s…” when Jimin started going out with Dinah, of course, it all makes sense!

“Seriously our friends are the worst idiots ever!” he complains once more.

“Okay, now do you mind telling me what’s going on?” she retaliates, getting irritated with her boyfriend and his tendency of not explaining anything for the dramatics.

“Jimin likes her back!” he shouts out loud, the magnificence of what he found out too overwhelming to bear.

Ana’s eyes widen. “What? How can that be? What about Dinah?”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at her. “He began dating her again after that one night stand that only happened because he saw Y/N hugging Seokj- Wait! What about Seokjin?”

Ana seems confused. “What about Seokjin?”

“Isn’t Y/N dating him?”

Ana almost bursts out in giggles. “What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Cause of the hug!”

“So what, a simple hug means automatically they’re dating each other?”

“Well, we all know Y/N hates hugs, plus she had a crush on him so it would be believable- Wait, that’s not the point. So Y/N isn’t dating Seokjin?”

“Nope. Never did,” Ana concludes as both of them fall into the same realization.

“So Jimin did all that stuff…” Ana begins, not quite believing the absurdity of the situation.

“...Because he thought Seokjin was dating Y/N,” Hoseok admits tiredly.

“We gotta tell Jimin,” Ana grabs her phone to punch in his number before Hoseok stops her.

“Wait…” he stares at the phone, the cogs in his mind whirling before his eyes light up.

“I got a better idea.”

{Jimin’s POV}

Sweat still drips down his forehead as Jimin bids goodbye to his students, after the end of his contemporary class. He reaches for his water bottle and heads for the teachers’ lounge where his stuff is before he gets to his last class.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before pressing the now lukewarm bottle on the nape of his neck, to get some sort of relief.

Once again, his focus wasn’t entirely on the class. It has been like that ever since your fight, but at least it started getting better as time passed. Still not at its best though.

He finds himself feeling guilty more than he thought he would. Guilty towards you, towards Dinah. It’s a mess.

Admittedly, he was really mad at you but as he got to think it over, he realised he acted too rashly in cutting you off. And he misses you already.

But the thing is… you haven't made a move to reconcile either. That could be because you’re afraid of him pushing you away again. But shouldn't you make the first step? If you did, Jimin is sure he would forgive you on the spot.

He shakes his head tiredly as he enters the teachers’ lounge and reaches for his backpack. Everything’s a mess.

And then there’s Dinah. Dinah who’s changed, who’s kind and understanding. Dinah who he strings along and who’s possibly already aware of Jimin’s use of her as a distraction. They both know that, even though Dinah’s changed and everything’s seemingly fine, the relationship is doomed this time around as well.

Although this time it’s Jimin’s fault.

He needs to come clean to her. He has to end this.

Right then his phone begins ringing.

Once he sees the contact name, he’s a little less willing to answer it.

“What do you want?” is his response once he picks up and there’s an awkward chuckle at the other end before the caller finally replies.

“Whoa, okay, forward, can’t you buy me a drink first, champ?” Seokjin tries to make the tension disappear unsuccessfully, resulting in Jimin not even answering that particular quip.

He hears Seokjin sigh on the other side, before “Anyway, can’t I just call my friend to see how he’s doing? It’s been a while since the last time we talked…” the other man admits cautiously and Jimin’s defensiveness slowly ebbs away to give place to additional guilt. He’s the one blowing off all his friends because he wants space. Or more precisely, he thinks, because he’s a coward, too afraid to really deal with the situation, so instead picking the easy way out, at the expense of his friends.

He rubs his face with his hands, before letting out a breath. “Yeah, I know, things have been kind of…” Jimin trails off but Seokjin hums, as if he understands what Jimin means without him having to say it out loud.

“Yeah…” Seokjin agrees quietly and Jimin feels more horrible as time goes by. When did he begin to feel such animosity towards his friend? They used to be really close ever since they worked together at the same shift, and now Jimin can barely be in the same room as him. It’s not Seokjin’s fault in any way and the truth is Jimin’s animosity arises not towards Seokjin but more towards himself.

He has stuff he needs to work on.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” comes Seokjin’s response that has Jimin sitting up straight in his seat, terrified of what his friend wants to talk to him about.

And it seems his fears were not unjustified.

“How long have you liked Y/N?”

There it is.

Jimin takes a breath, panic trying to take over him but he wills it to go away and answer his friend. Even if he’s terrified to do so.

“I…” he begins, audible shakiness colouring his voice, “... how do you know?”

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Hoseok told me…”

Jimin takes another breath, one full of guilt.

“Look, I… I’m sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did! And I know it’s awful of me to have done this but, yeah, for some time I had thought of acting on it. But now that I know for certain you’re together, I wouldn’t even dream of-”

“First of all, Y/N and I are not together.” Seokjin interrupts the babbling idiot and Jimin stops mid-sentence.

He blinks, uncertain. “I… what?”

Seokjin sighs with a chuckle. “Y/N and I aren’t dating,” he repeats.

Jimin opens his mouth like a fish, in complete and utter shock. “But… but I saw you…” he states full of doubt, almost like a question.

He can almost hear Seokjin raising his eyebrow. “You saw us doing what?”

The lump in his throat doesn’t make this any easier. “I saw you kissing a-a-aand-and hugging!” he retaliates, trying to support his reasoning.

Seokjin sighs once more, the gesture coming off him naturally by now. “Okay, she kissed me because she wanted to avoid a dude she ghosted, I had little to no say in this!” Seokjin responds in a typical Seokjin fashion.

But Jimin has more questions. “A dude she ghosted?”

“Yeah, she was supposed to go on a date with this guy in my restaurant but blew him off for some reason…”

Wait.

“When was this?” Jimin asks, eager but nervous to find out the answer.

“A couple of days before Christmas.”

So that wasn’t a date with Seokjin but just a rando?

God, Jimin has fucked up big time.

“And what about the hug?” he asks for the last time, to make sure he resolves any misunderstanding.

“What hug? Oh, you mean on my birthday? Dude, that was just her coming clean about her past crush on me and us moving past this like a couple of adults.”

Jimin’s throat constricts uncomfortably but in unbelievable hope. “Past crush?”

Seokjin’s smile is nearly audible. “Yeah, “past”. Know why? Because she has feelings for someone else.”

And just as easily as Seokjin has given him hope, he just as easily rips it away.

“Oh…?” Jimin barely manages to utter, voice almost breaking alongside his heart. “Who?”

Seokjin groans on the other side, taking Jimin wholly by surprise by the irritated tone in the older man’s voice. “Oh my god, you really are both idiots,” he says almost to himself, “You, you soggy tit! Do you really think she did all that to Dinah simply because she didn’t like her? No, she was fucking jealous!” Seokjin concludes, voice rushed and angry to berate his friend and finally put an end to this huge mess.

But Jimin hears only one word.

You.

She has feelings for you.

The girl he’s been in love with for nearly a year now, if not more, has feelings for him. Reciprocated feelings.

Is this real? Is this a fucking dream from which he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling shittier than ever?

But Seokjin said she was jealous. Jealous.

“She- She was? Seokjin, just…” he stops himself to take a calming breath, refusing to believe this just yet, “Please, don’t joke about this, I’m not gonna laugh,” he warns his friend. He can’t bear to have his heart messed with any more than it already has been.

“Does it sound like I’m joking? Believe me, I wouldn’t, we’re all too invested in your shit, it’s not healthy.”

Jimin can’t believe this. He wants to, desperately, but what if it’s not real? What then?

“I…” he swallows his nerves, “She really has feelings for me?” he asks, not unlike a hopeful child. God, his heart is about to burst.

“Yeah, buddy, I know it’s hard to believe when I exist!” Seokjin tries to lighten up the mood with a joke.

Jimin doesn’t laugh.

“...Too soon? Sorry, anyway, I thought you should also know Y/N really feels awful for everything and if there’s one thing that can confirm that, is the fact she apologized to Dinah,” Seokjin concludes carefully.

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond.

“But if you don’t believe me… Ask Y/N herself.”

But he knows what to do.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’re washing the dishes, alone at home for another hour at the very least as Jimin’s classes end in one hour.

Should you go to Ana’s? Ugh, but Hoseok is there.

Maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room for the scarce time Jimin will be here before he’s off to Dinah’s.

Which reminds you of earlier today.

In Dinah’s defence, she handled your apology quite gracefully, in contrast with you. You were a babbling mess, trying to put your thoughts into place and at first, she was suspicious of you, but once your visit made sense, she seemed to understand. Something even you couldn’t at times.

She accepted your apology with a calm smile, confusing you even more as she said she appreciated your effort to put all of this behind you.

You were glad she seemed to not hold it against you although, honestly… you don’t think you deserve it.

You have no idea if she’s planning on telling Jimin or not and quite frankly you’re terrified of what he’ll say if he finds out.

Once you’re done with the dishes and close the tap, you hear the front door open and close, assuming it’s Hoseok back from Ana’s.

“Hobi, is that you?” you ask before turning around, only to almost choke on your own breath when you see Jimin instead.

He’s standing just in front of the door, not going forwards or backwards, as his eyes stare at you. Serious, careful but calm. No anger residing in them. Just awkwardness as he seems to not know what to do with himself, as he simply rests in place and somehow a tiny drop of hope begins to bloom.

“I… Don’t you have classes?” is the first thing you manage to get out of your mouth and he takes a breath.

“I had to get out early…” he responds and you can’t help but focus on the “had to”. Did Dinah talk to him after all?

“...Why?” is your careful question, when in reality your mind is in a state of disarray. Is this a good sign? A bad one? Is he here to restore your friendship to what it used to be or finally cut ties with you and move out?

Your mind is gonna short-circuit.

“I…” he begins, eyes falling to the floor. Then he takes another breath. “I had to talk to you,” he says.

Oh god. This is it. You’re done.

Your throat closes up as you blink quickly trying to stop your eyes from welling up. Damnit, you already cried so much about this, you shouldn’t have any more tears left!

He takes a tentative step forward, eyes finding yours once again. But they look… soft, tender. Apologetic.

“I… I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he breathes out and your eyes widen, having to do a double-take to make sure you heard right. “I was too harsh on you, basically taking out my nerves on you and even though what you did was awful, I shouldn’t have taken such drastic measures. I took it too far by saying we shouldn’t be friends and I’d like to take it back if you want to…” he concludes, observing you cautiously.

You’re left staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Is he serious? Did he just apologize to you like he was the one at fault?

“Jimin, oh my god, you shouldn’t have to apologize, I should!” you rush to say, instinctively grabbing his hands to soothe him, completely missing the taken aback turned loving look in his eyes.

“I acted way out of line and truth be told I think I needed that as a wake-up call. You were right, what kind of friend am I if I don’t try to get along with the girl you’re dating?” you continue, too self-conscious to be able to look Jimin in the eye, instead staring at your joined hands with a new kind joy.

You got your best friend back. And if keeping him means you have to bury your feelings for him, then you’ll do it. For real this time. Whatever it takes to not lose him again.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Used to date,” he corrects you.

This time though you can’t help it when your eyes snap back at him. “What? What do you mean?”

Where you expected to be a sorrowful expression, there is none. Instead, Jimin is looking at you with a soft smile, a serene one, one that matches the peace in his eyes. “We broke up,” he says and you can’t find the proper words to react to this.

“Oh… H-how so?” you say instead, unwillingly holding your breath.

Jimin’s eyes rest on your face for a moment, that damned smile still gracing his lips, before his eyes fall to your hands. “I guess you helped me realise some things with what you did,” is his cryptic response.

But before you get to question his answer his eyes turn stern, with a note of mischief hiding in their corners. “That does not mean what you did was okay, though,” he says, pointing his finger at you like a teacher disciplining a child and you chuckle at his attempt of lightening up the mood.

“Believe me, I know. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself…” you respond, rubbing a hand awkwardly at the base of your neck, still awfully aware of your other hand still connected to Jimin’s.

“Well…” he says quietly, his eyes on your joined hands, “Good thing I did then…” he mutters, his thumb running over the back of your palm soothingly and once your eyes meet his, you know you’ll be okay.

After that talk with Jimin, -that ended with the both of you watching Space Jam and cuddling to sleep-, everything is once again back to normal. The past week has been amazing compared to the one before it. You find yourself smiling all the time as your friendship with Jimin is back to its prime, laughter and joy returning to your shared apartment.

Your group returns back to its routine, hanging out together in front of the TV, roasting Hoseok for his abundant sexual energy, you know, the usual.

And yet you feel like something’s changed. More particularly, with Jimin.

You catch his eyes on you more than once, more than what could be considered normal but ever since you made up the two of you haven’t been left alone once. The guys are always around and, really, it’s not like you don’t want them to be but there’s always something hanging from Jimin’s mouth, something he wants to say but never does due to their presence. It’s slightly unnerving, reminding you of that night outside your bedrooms when he wanted to say something but didn't.

You can’t tell if it’s good or bad. All you know is suddenly your knees shake when he looks at you for too long and you have goosebumps whenever his skin touches yours.

So that’s why tonight you chose to sit on the lone armchair as he sits next to Hoseok on the big couch and Ana is placed next to Seokjin on the small one.

Somehow the conversation managed to go on that New Year’s party and Seokjin ended up spilling about your kiss.

“You said “we take this to the grave”!” you respond with a low voice, trying to mimic him unsuccessfully as Ana and Hoseok stare at you with eyes wide as saucers. Jimin, for some reason, looks unresponsive to the news yet he laughs at your bad impression of Seokjin.

Seokjin at least has the decency to look guilty as Ana’s scandalized eyes turn to you. “You kissed?!”

You raise your hands in defence, for some reason avoiding to look over at Jimin. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Well… I kinda did but not with the motive you’d assume,” you rush to explain, though Ana is less than satisfied.

“Oh then with what motive? Please amuse me, hoe,” she responds, crossing her hands on her chest and you huff out in annoyance.

Seokjin answers her. “Well, obviously, she wanted a piece of all that. I’m pretty irresistible to all humankind,” he jokes lightly and you suppress a snort.

“Yeah, no, this ain’t it, chief,” you rush to say, suddenly nervous, not wanting anyone to think you’re still into Seokjin.

Actually, replace “anyone” with just “Jimin”.

Seokjin gasps in offence. “What in the world do you even mean?! You’re lucky I kissed you and not just because you got rid of that dude! I’m a pretty good kisser, no scratch that, I’m an excellent kisser, a connoisseur of kissing if you will!”

“I think I won’t be able to kiss anyone after that…” Hoseok responds which makes Seokjin gasp once more before he looks over at you.

“Y/N, tell them the truth. How my kissing is so utterly magnificent, it could end world hunger!” he says before actually hearing what he just said then deciding against it, “Nope, can’t do that, sorry, that’s on me.”

You chuckle at his antics, although a bit reluctant to actually reveal the truth.

“Actually…” you start.

Another gasp resonates. “Don’t “actually” me! Just tell them!”

You turn to the other guys with a roll of your eyes.

“Look, it’s not like you were a bad kisser per se. It’s just that it was a bit… lackluster?” you finish, almost afraid to see Seokjin’s reaction to the reveal.

Jimin suppresses a chuckle, Hoseok oohs from the side and Ana’s eyes widen in surprise.

Seokjin looks at you with disbelief.

“Lackluster?”

You rush to make amends. “I mean it’s okay given I took you by surprise, but due to that crush I used to have on you, I had this notion of a kiss full of passion. And that one just… didn’t have it.”

Seokjin pouts angrily at you before crossing his arms on his chest as Ana pats his shoulder soothingly. “I can’t believe you just said my kiss didn’t have any passion.”

You shrug. “Well, it didn’t,” you say as a matter of a fact before Ana jumps into the conversation.

“It’s probably a good thing your kiss didn’t have any passion, it just means your friends. No chemistry there so don’t beat yourself up too much, champ,” she says with an affectionate pinch on Seokjin’s cheek, who ponders on her input.

“Yeah, Ana is right!” you rush to agree. “It’s because we’re just friends! When you find someone you really like, believe me, it’ll be nothing like that,” you go off track a bit as certain memories reappear. “It’ll be full of passion and yearning and not getting enough of each other, you’re not sure if you can go on without kissing them!”

And somehow by the end of that, your eyes fall on Jimin’s and stay there.

Because he stares back.

“Okay, I think we heard enough about Seokjin’s kissing techniques,” Ana comments, breaking the spell and your eyes fall to your lap, fire residing in your cheeks.

“I just have one last comment on what I think Seokjin could’ve used but didn’t cause he’s a wuss,” Hoseok jumps in.

“Tongue.”

A round of gagging noises is heard around the apartment.

The hours pass by smoothly and soon everyone’s getting sleepy. Seokjin leaves early, having to go to the restaurant first thing in the morning, leaving the rest of you to clean up.

Once again Jimin picks up the trash with Ana as Hoseok helps you do the dishes. The apartment falls into a comfortable silence with the occasional chatter between the four of you while you clean up. Hoseok is to sleepover at Ana’s so when you’re all done the couple bids you goodbye, heading to Ana’s apartment.

Leaving you and Jimin totally alone.

Which is something that shouldn’t scare you but for some reason your nerves are going through the roof.

“Are you done with the kitchen?” Jimin asks from the living room, where he’s rearranging the pillows on the couch.

“Yeap! Just finished!” you call back, your voice a bit higher than usual and you cringe internally before clearing your throat.

“Good, I’m going to bed then,” he responds as you walk out of the kitchen.

“I’ll walk with you,” you respond with a smile, following him into the corridor.

You walk in comfortable silence, but still, you find yourself getting nervous as you walk side by side. It doesn’t make any sense.

Once you reach your bedrooms, both of you turn around to face each other, seemingly unwilling to depart just yet. Jimin looks at you with a soft smile as you grab at the opportunity to talk to him.

“Jimin, I just… I’m really happy we got past that and again I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” you say in what seems like the hundredth apology this week.

Jimin’s smile grows fonder as he shakes his head gently. “I told you, you should stop apologizing, I’m no longer mad at you,” is his quiet reply as he tilts his head, his eyes staring at you in a way it makes your heart race.

“I know I just… That week we spent not talking to each other was the worst week of my life and I…” you pause searching for the right words, but no words could ever describe the magnificence of what you’re feeling right now, the desperation of wanting to have him in your life. So you simply stare at him, out of breath, hoping he gets it.

His smile is one of the best things you’ve ever seen and you know he does.

You smile back. “Anyway, I’ve gotten too sentimental…” you chuckle, clearing your voice to sound more collected.

Jimin giggles softly. “Happens to the best of us…” he responds gently and you have to remind yourself to not stare. Even if he does and it makes you feel out of breath.

You nod with a smile. “Well…” you respond nervously, yearning for the moment you’re alone in your room, free of all this tension. “Goodnight,” you say simply, turning around to get to your door.

But a hand wraps itself around your wrist, turning you around suddenly. Your hands naturally fall to Jimin’s chest as his palms wrap around your waist and hair as his lips fall fervently on yours.

Your mind goes into overdrive and you can only kiss him back.

His plump lips wrap around your own softly but with an intense sense of urgency, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your hands are quick into grabbing his shirt to pull him unbelievably closer. You respond with just as much hunger, letting your mouth move fervently against his own, pushing more and more against him, aiding his hand that’s tangled in your hair, gripping the locks as if he can’t get enough. Then both of his palms are on the small of your back, holding you close as if fearing you’ll leave. But you never do and that makes him press more against you until your back hits the wall next to your door.

The impact makes Jimin lean back just enough to stop the kiss, but his eyes still remain glued to the image of your swollen lips, as you almost lean after his own.

Your heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise quiet corridor, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his open shirt as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“Did you mean something like that?” comes out his gruff, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

His question brings you back to the earlier conversation about a perfect kiss and you can’t control your breathing any more than your beating heart.

You nod quickly, eyes still on his lips. “Yes,” is your breathless answer.

Jimin’s still breathing heavily as his eyes land once again on your lips.

“Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

And, fuck, you can’t get enough.

Your palms land on his neck as you stand on your toes to reach him better and his hands wrap around your waist to keep you in place.

Fuck, you’re kissing him. You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back. As if he’s a man starved of your kiss and he needs anything you can give him.

But then he stops again and you almost groan out loud.

“You need to stop doing that…” you exhale with an affected chuckle and he chuckles as well.

“I just… I need to talk to you before anything else happens….” he whispers and even though you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear in your chest.

“I…” he says, eyes dazedly looking at your face before he takes an encouraging breath.

“I want you to know that this isn’t like last time. It’s more, it means more, I-” he stops once more, voice trembling as he refuses to look anywhere else but you.

His words give you hope but for the first time in weeks, you welcome that hope. You welcome that glorious feeling to settle deep in your chest because you recognize that warm glint deep in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” he reveals and you swear your heart will burst. There’s moisture in your eyes but you will it to go away.

“You are…?” you ask with a small voice and Jimin smiles at you, all happiness and comfort. There’s a fuzzy feeling in the middle of your chest and at this moment nothing makes any more sense than you two.

“Yes. And I spent the past year trying to run from it…” he admits carefully as he slightly crouches down to meet your eyes.

“I’m not running anymore…” he concludes, a spark in his eyes and you’ve never seen him more sure for anything in his life.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions in you. Relief, hope, undeniable joy. It makes your throat close and for a few seconds, you can’t answer him. You only stare back and hope he understands like so many times before.

“I-” you manage to choke out with a weak voice but he’s quick to shush you, before kissing the inside of your palm.

“I know…” he responds softly, still holding onto your palm as his eyes find yours. You can’t look away, couldn’t if you wanted to.

And then you can’t stop smiling, and he’s smiling back and before you know it you’re kissing again.

Happiness rolls like a current between, from all the places your bodies touch, you can’t contain it so you keep on kissing fervidly, hands touching whenever they can, mouths moving in tandem like it’s natural. Like it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“God, I have so much I want to tell you…” he whispers against your lips before he’s diving back in, tongue reaching out to meet yours.

“Me too…” you reply after a few seconds, pushing him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair. “But not now…” you whisper sternly, pushing your chest against him, needing to feel more of him.

He curses under his breath, the sound sinful, licking his lips before he’s kissing you again and his hands fall lower down your back to rest over the swell of your ass.

You moan in appreciation when his hands grab at the tender flesh, making you arch out so he has better leverage. There’s a throbbing between your legs and you resist grinding on him just yet, to drag it out as long as you can.

Jimin’s lips move down the column of your throat as his body cages you against the wall, hands keeping your hips still as he wedges one leg between yours, so his thigh can press upright against your mound.

You moan again when he leaves a particularly deep hickey on your skin and your hips instinctively roll against his thigh, your hands holding on to his back afraid you might fall.

He chuckles darkly against your skin. “Still into thighs I see…” he mumbles before biting softly at your earlobe, a shiver running down your spine.

You bite your lip before, “Correction, still into your thighs…” you admit as you roll your hips slowly on top of his thigh, starting to feel that delicious warmth building up in your stomach, making you feel dizzy.

Jimin almost bucks into you with a low moan, as his hands are certain to leave marks on your hips as he struggles to remain sane.

“Fuck… Although I’m really tempted to just fuck you here, we should probably move…” he murmurs between kisses to your collarbone and you have half a sane mind to agree. The other half is already picturing him doing it either way.

But before you get to move, his arms are quicker, lunging under your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist with a surprised yelp. His palms are resting right on top of your ass, subconsciously pushing you closer, making your insides burn in anticipation.

There’s a smirk on his lips as he licks them, eyes roaming your face to make sure you don’t have second doubts. Although your eyes are glued to the movement of his wet tongue.

When he realises this, he’s quick to move towards his room as you choose now as the perfect moment to lick and suck bruises on his neck, not able to deny yourself any longer.

“Shit… Y/N, if you keep this up I’m gonna drop you…” he mumbles with a stern but clearly-affected voice and you smile in victory before softly biting at his skin, savouring his taste on your tongue.

He kicks his door open before he carefully lays you on his bed, lips immediately after your own as you reach for his neck to desperately press more of him against you.

Your palms move down his chest, grabbing the edges of his flannel to push it off his shoulders, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes…?” you ask breathlessly, immediately reconnecting your lips like a woman starved and Jimin chuckles, grabbing the hem of your T-shirt instead and pushing it upwards. You sigh in relief as soon as your heated skin is free, yearning to feel more of his skin against yours.

“Just trying to keep myself warm,” he comments rushedly as he discards the piece of clothing somewhere behind him and his eyes fall to your covered breasts. He curses, lowering his face to kiss down your collarbones until his lips reach the bare top of your tits. His mouth leaves a wet trail behind that’s making you gasp as your thighs rub together to gain some relief.

Jimin notices and chuckles darkly before biting your bottom lip. “You want any help there?” he teases and you groan out loud with a pout.

“Yes, but please take your clothes off a little bit faster. It’s making my dick soft,” you whine, bucking your hips towards him.

He pins them down between his own legs, forcing them to stay still. His fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings as your breaths turn heavier while only looking at his eyes.

“Aw, so I won’t have my ass rawed by your dick? Such a shame baby…” he teases once more with a sinful smirk and the last word has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck, say that again…” you murmur, arching your chest upwards as you feel moisture gather between your legs, just by the single mention of a nickname.

Jimin laughs out loud as he moves to get your leggings off and you’re quick to aid him. “Is this really what turns you on?” he comments playfully as he leans in, lips kissing the underside of your jaw.

“No, I meant…” you stop, suddenly self-conscious, “... the other part…” you mumble quietly, turning your face to the side, knowing a deep red has taken over your cheeks. It’s not simply about the nickname or the tenderness in his voice as he said it. It’s about what it represents, what you already heard from his lips but you simply can’t have enough of. It makes everything real.

Jimin regards you for a second before, “What? Baby?” he asks, rather innocently and yet you still can’t look at him, too embarrassed as you nod.

Jimin’s eyes turn softer as he bites his lip to contain his smile. Fuck, he’s so in love.

He moves to press a tender kiss to your jaw. “Baby,” he repeats slowly, before resting his lips on your collarbones and you sigh in content. “Baby…” he says again, leaving a kiss in the valley between your breasts, making your breath hitch. “Baby…” he moves lower, dragging his plump lips down your torso as your breaths quicken, the sound of the nickname having your heart making somersaults.

“Baby…” he whispers lowly one last time, the tone completely different, darker, more promising. His eyes rest on you as his face now lays above your panties. Then his hands are hooking behind the waistband, dragging the material down your legs and he bites his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad…” he says almost to himself and before you get to react, he hooks your legs on top of his shoulders and his tongue lands with kittenish licks on your clit.

An involuntary groan escapes you, bucking your hips into his mouth for more. And yet he maintains his pace, sending waves of pleasure up your body but never enough to get you where you want to. You can’t help the movement of your hips as you crave for more friction, his movements delicious but never enough. Jimin pins your hips down, tsking you before he presses a kiss at the junction between your thigh and cunt.

“You’ll get what you want, baby, all in due time…” he says sternly, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth returns to your clit, and you bite your lip to drown your moan.

Though now, he leaves aside the kittenish lick to wrap his mouth around the swollen nub and suck it between his lips.

A loud moan breaks free from your lips, heavy pants resonating as his plush lips envelop your clit, finally giving you more, moving expertly against your folds and your hands find purchase on Jimin’s locks to press him more against you.

He lets you do as you please while one of his hands travels up your torso, pushing your bra’s cups down to toy with one of your nipples.

The added pleasure has you cry his name in ecstasy, losing all control of your hips as they move against Jimin’s face, as if they have a mind of their own, chasing after your high like a madwoman.

And as one hand tugs at your erect nipples, the other finds this chance to move down your body and trace around your entrance, making your pussy clench in anticipation. Before finally pushing two digits inside your velvety walls.

“Jimin!” you almost sob, your hips furiously chasing after your high as you feel the warmth building up more and more inside your stomach.

His fingers keep thrusting inside you, slowly at first to let you get used to the intrusion, before he picks up the pace, moving them quickly, roughly inside you. Knuckles deep as his fingertips find that little soft spot inside your walls that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

And when you open your eyes and see Jimin staring you back with darkness and lust in his own from between your legs, the band snaps.

You come with a loud moan, riding your orgasm against Jimin’s tongue, as the pleasure seems too much, too intense. But then the feeling starts to fade away and Jimin lets you relax as he leaves butterfly kisses against your thighs.

You try to catch your breath as Jimin’s kisses move upwards, up your stomach, to your breasts until he’s kissing you again. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, never having quite enough of him.

“This is not fair, you know…” you chastise him playfully, kissing his underjaw when a quiet moan rolls from his tongue.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, trying to keep up with the conversation but judging by the way his hip rut against you, you know he’s struggling.

“The fact I’m completely naked while you still have your clothes on…” you observe with a cock of your eyebrow and a smirk grazes his lips as his finger tugs at the elastic of your bra and lets it snap against your skin.

“Ah but you’re not completely naked…” he teases against your lips as his fingers move down your body in a sensual caress.

But being you, you take that as a challenge. So you push him slightly away just so you can move your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra with one movement.

Jimin’s eyes go wide as you flick the undergarment across the room, swallowing heavily before his eyes return to your bare chest.

“Now I am…” is your witty retort as you subtly arch your back just so he can have a better view. He stands there staring at you for a few seconds before he curses and moves quickly to get rid of his clothes.

You giggle at his impatience when he ends up stuck in his T-shirt, sporting an adorable pout. “Easy, baby, I’m not going anywhere…” you joke, sitting up to help him take off his t-shirt with a soft smile, one he reciprocates as he moves to unbuckle his pants.

“Well, it wasn’t me getting too impatient to- Wait…” he stops mid-sentence after taking his pants off. A spark of realization has entered his eyes before he turns to you to meet you with a teasing smile.

“Did you just call me baby?”

Your eyes widen in shock as a blush creeps into your cheeks and with a scoff you lightly shove him for daring to make fun of you.

“Y-you said it first, genius!” you try to justify yourself with a frown, but Jimin’s smirk only grows as he pushes aside his pants and crawls towards you.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that spent more than half her life refusing to call her partners that because it’s cheesy…” he comments playfully as he traps you beneath his body once more.

“Even if the rule never applied to her…” he smiles teasingly at you, brushing his lips softly against your pout, reminding you that even if you never called your partners “baby”, you never stopped them from calling you that.

You purse your lips together as you look at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Well…” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “...you’re different…” you mumble quietly, not really ready to look at him even if you know he feels the same.

That has him halting, and as he sees you too uncomfortable to go on, he doesn’t say anything else. He presses a soft kiss to your knee instead, wishing to convey everything he feels as well through that small kiss.

The movement of his lips on your skin is so tender that has your heart flutter and, while he looks back at you, his smile puts your embarrassment to rest. Because he’s here for you because he feels the same.

“I know it comes a little late but… Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, eyes stuck on your face, tracing your features as if he hasn’t really seen you before, not until now.

The question has your heartbeat quicken even though it’s completely unnecessary. Though your lips stretch out in a smile as you nod.

Jimin leans closer, eyes on your lips as if he’s under some spell. You suppose it’s the same you’re under.

You let his lips envelop yours gently, hands tangling in his hair as you both find yourselves moving back until you’re lying down with Jimin on top of you.

Your hands are greedy to explore his body, even though you’ve done so before. Though that time you’re main motive was to get off, so now gives you the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with his body, to map out every little detail to memory, until he’s the only thing you see.

His lips move lower to kiss and bite at the column of your throat, eliciting the sweetest moan from your lips that sound like music to Jimin’s ears.

Your breaths get quicker, hands moving recklessly to get rid of the remaining piece of fabric that separates you. Jimin rushes to help you, throwing away his boxers, now standing in his complete naked glory.

There’s nothing else to say, not really when a single look can convey everything you feel without unnecessary words. And the way Jimin looks at you right now makes you feel like you’re in heaven. Like you’re cared for, safe and content right here in his arms.

His hand brushes a lock behind your ear and the motion is so tender, loving, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” he whispers softly, eyes gentle, ready to back off if you say so, reminding you of yet another reason you’re so helplessly in love with him.

You simply nod, too afraid to talk but your smile is all it takes for Jimin to go forward.

He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes glued at that spot between your legs with anticipation. He moves forward, guiding his tip through your folds, going slowly in case it’s painful but the look of pure bliss on your face and the way your walls welcome his cock has him losing control and going the rest of the way in with a deep thrust.

Your nails claw into the skin of his back with a loud cry while Jimin breathes deeply against the skin of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Fuck, I-...” he exhales, lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a grip. “... You okay?” he says breathless, eyes searching yours for anything that’s not okay.

A breathless chuckle escapes you as you press your lips on his jawline. “More than okay. But please move.”

“Oh, thank god….” he mumbles before pulling out and thrusting in again. His movements are slow, yet the perfect pace to help you build up slowly but surely towards a second high.

Jimin rolls his hips with the expertise only a dancer could possess, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each roll, hitting that spot again and you can’t help but close your eyes to savour this feeling.

Shallow breaths leave you as his pubic bone brushes against your clit with each motion, driving you crazy.

“Ugh, you feel… mm’ so good…” he mumbles between thrusts, letting his lips land on your breasts, to suck lovebites on your skin.

“Jimin, fuck…!” you cry out, high-pitched moans escaping you as your hands go to his ass, coaxing him to drive his cock even deeper.

He growls from above your chest before you feel his palm cupping your cheek. “Open your eyes for me, love…” he mumbles quietly and you have no choice but to comply.

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Jimin’s piercing ones, staring at you intensely, burning with unspoken feelings that are too easy to recognize. After all, you feel them too.

You move to the side to kiss the inside of his palm before you smile at him.

He smiles back fondly at you before his hands move to lace his fingers with yours at each side.

“Keep your eyes on me, love…” he whispers before moving again.

This time around, his pace is slightly quicker, his cock hitting your sweet spot with renewed vigour and yet you can only concentrate on his eyes. His eyes that stare at you with such fondness and love it makes your eyes water.

You see the frown on his face before he stops moving in concern, yet you push your heels on his ass to keep him going.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay, keep going…” you say, almost choking with the emotions overwhelming you. “It’s just that… I can’t believe I’m so lucky…” you admit softly, an unbelievable chuckle escaping you as you stare at him with what you hope he sees as undeniable adoration.

He smiles at you again, -you think you’ll never get tired of that smile-, before he leans in to kiss away the stray tear that flowed free from your eyes.

He picks up the pace once more, resting his forehead on top of yours, as shallow moans roll off your tongue. Your high keeps approaching, you can feel it and still you’re only focused on his eyes. Soft grunts escape him as he drives his hips into you, getting closer to his high as well, his hands grasping yours as if they’re a lifeboat.

He brushes his lips gently against yours before “I love you…” he mutters against you and you think your heart is gonna burst.

You press another kiss on his lips before, “I love you too.”

And then you don’t say anything else as your high approaches and after a few more thrusts you both come entangled in one another, each other’s names on your lips.

You lay like this for a few moments, with Jimin’s body on top of yours as both of you struggle to catch your breaths. Then your eyes find each other again and everything seems so clear, so right.

You can’t stop smiling at each other like lovesick fools as you fall asleep next to each other, at last content.

When Jimin wakes up the next morning he thinks it was all a dream.

But as his eyes rest on your peaceful sleeping form he knows he could never dream something as perfect as this.

He can’t help the lovesick smile taking over his lips as he looks at you through sleep-ridden eyes. He shuffles closer, resting his face on his hands to get a better look while you sleep soundly next to him. He feels like he can never get enough of you. Not now, not ever.

Suddenly your body begins moving though your eyes remain closed and Jimin figures you’re still asleep.

“Stop being creepy…” you mumble with a sleepy smile and Jimin grins too, realising he was wrong.

“I’m not being creepy…” he argues softly, still smiling. You pop open one eye to look at him unimpressed before you yawn and open both your eyelids.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause it’s super romantic staring at me while I’m asleep, where can I find another man like that…” you tease him with a drowsy smile as your eyes find his.

He groans dramatically though his smile still remains. “You’re unbelievable…” he mumbles, his voice still gruff from sleep and you have to suppress a shiver before shuffling closer.

“I know but you love me…” you mumble against him before kissing his lips slowly. He lets himself get lost on the kiss before you lean back and he licks his lips to savour your taste.

“And now you can’t take it back!” you exclaim out loud before smiling mischievously at him.

Another groan breaks free from his lips. “Already regretting it…” he comments, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

You gasp as if offended by his quip. “Well, maybe then I’ll just leave so you won’t regret it anymore!” you respond, gathering his sheet on your chest as you make a move to leave his bed.

But Jimin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you back on the bed, crawling on top of you with a predatory smile.

“Now, now, let’s not result in desperate measures…” he dives in for another kiss.

You can’t help but smile again as you kiss him, hands circling around his neck as he softly bites your bottom lip.

“Careful sir. You might trigger something dangerous here…” you whisper seductively, moving one leg so your thigh can rub against his already half-hard member.

Jimin’s smirk only grows. “Mmm, maybe I like danger…” he responds before his lips envelop yours once more. His hands travel beneath the sheet, tracing your skin before they move lower and-.

A loud bang echoes through the apartment, surprising both of you before a booming voice is heard through the walls, one that belongs to none other than Hoseok himself.

“Have you fucked yet or nah?!”

Your eyes widen, face immediately growing red. Jimin looks at you with an apologetic smile and before you get to ask why Hoseok is asking that, said man bursts into the room.

There’s a sudden explosion of sounds, you screaming as you hide beneath Jimin, Jimin cursing at Hoseok as he pulls the sheet to cover you both and Hoseok whistling at the image before him.

“Woah! You finally did it buds, I’m so happy for you!” he cheers you on as he steps inside to fist bump a very angry looking Jimin and a very visibly confused you.

“Hoseok, excuse my french, but what the fuck are you doing here?” Jimin is positively seething with his friends' interruption but as you see Hoseok basically beaming at the both of you, you can’t help but giggle at the absurd situation.

“I came to see if my buddies finally worked it out! And you did, finally! Can you imagine if you hadn’t and I’d burst through the door screaming that? That’d be awkwaaaaaaard!” he comments, too cheerful to notice Jimin’s deadly stare and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“Right. That would’ve been awkward…” Jimin comments sarcastically though Hoseok still seems oblivious as he sits on top of the bed with a happy smile hanging from his lips.

You’re about to burst into giggles as you watch Jimin’s eyes growing wider in disbelief and you’re certain he’s gonna kill Hoseok any minute now.

“I’m so happy for you guys! My besties are finally dating!” he comments full of joy and Jimin is about to have smoke pouring out of his ears.

“Hobi, we’re happy too but I think it’d be better for you if you left…” you comment with a smile, pointing with your head at Jimin who’s about to lose it any second.

Hoseok’s eyes widen finally in realization. “Oh, whoops! Right, right, I’m leaving, keep going, stallion, show her how it’s done!” Hoseok throws finger guns at Jimin as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Hoseok is out of earshot and you turn to look at Jimin you can’t help but burst into giggles by how absolutely mad he looks.

Though when you start laughing, Jimin’s incredulous stare turns to you. “Why are you even laughing?!”

Even though his ominous stare is directed at you, you can’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just too funny!” you say breathlessly through your giggles.

“Too funny?!” he asks incredulously before his gaze turns dark. His eyes have your laughter dying in your throat and instead another feeling rising up at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ll show you funny…” he whispers sinfully before he lunges forward and you forget what you were laughing at for the rest of the day.

There are more important matters to tend to.

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