#this is unedited word vomit i'm sorry

[neteyamssock]

Not so bad, after all.

╰┈➤ PART I.

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: When neteyam and you met each other for the first time, they were overwhelmed with feelings they have never felt before.

wordcount for this chapter: 2.3k

tags: love at first sight, misunderstanding, arranged marriage/mateship, unrequieted love, betrayal, angst, happy ending, etc.

wordbank: 'eveng = child. mawey = be calm. skxawng = moron/idiot. uturu = a request for safe harbor/asylum. tsahik = spiritual leader. olo-eyktan = clan leader. paskalin = sweet berry (?).

A/N: UNEDITED, just word vomit. Tsu'nari is the name I used as a place-holder for reader-insert. I'll try to not use it as much...i'm also new to tumblr and the fandom in general so i hope i'm not doing something wrong??? 😭😭😭 I was going crazy thinking about neteyam and couldn't sleep so i created a tumblr account to posted all these word vomits. I also posted it first on AO3. Sorry for this word vomit, uh... Enjoy?

TEXT DIVIDERS CREDITS TO @cafekitsune

masterlist

part ii.

part i.

When your parents joined Eywa’s embrace and you only had your grandfather as your own remaining kin, you knew your life wouldn’t be yours to live. He often said you have an immense potential for greatness, that you were born to lead. You have been expected to accomplish a lot since you were an ‘eveng, and your grandfather saw something in you that he believes would help the clan. 

He’s a vital elder who wields power under the olo-ekytan, helping in the matters of the clan. You knew his ambition for you and your family, but you never once complained for you know what is your duty and responsibility. 

“I’m doing this for you, paskalin. You are born for this, and Eywa bears witness.” He once told you, when you refused his proposal to study under the Tsahik as a tsakarem.

He cupped your face, “I’m running out of time, paskalin. I’m doing this to ensure that once I embrace Eywa’s loving arms, you would be in good hands.”

He thought the only way to ensure that you live a good life is to set you up with the olo-eyktan’s oldest son. When you heard of it, you wanted to disagree, thinking everybody else would too. You didn’t expect that in one typical eclipse, Olo-eyktan would call you and look at you with approval. “You will grow up into a fine young woman. Learn well under the Tsahik. Do you understand me, girl?”

You agreed, sneaking a glance at the Tsahik and saw her looking at you with an unreadable expression. She actually never consented, at least verbally, but she also didn’t protest it. She was just watching you, assessing your worth like she would do herbs and medicinal plants. 

“Mother is not one who speaks a lot. Her lack of protest is her answer, you know that right? I’m excited for your tsaheylu with Ao’nung, tsmuke. You would make a fine mother and Tsahik of the clan.” Tsireya exclaimed when she learned about your engagement. 

You find it ironic how your clansmen says they know you, of what you will become, but never once heard your silent scream for freedom. They never picked up on the fact that you weren’t happy at this arrangement. But then again, does happiness even matter when duty and responsibility hold the clan together?

“Is there even a problem?” Ao’nung asked you when confronted him about the issue. He seems genuinely perplexed as to why you kept asking him about his thoughts. Then you understood. The reason why the olo-eyktan and the Tsahik agreed wasn’t because of your potential to become a Tsahik. It was always about Ao’nung and his thoughts, and it should've made you flattered. That the future olo-eyktan finds you suitable to lead the clan side by side by him. But it only made the burden on your shoulders heavier.

Eywa was the last one you sought. You asked her for guidance, a hint of what future holds for you. But she only said to wait. That its not the time yet, so you compromised. You accepted everything and remained silent.

Never expecting in one typical wild day for your life to change forever.

When you heard the familiar call of the horn, you didn’t hesitate to ride your ilu back to the shore. You still many herbs you need to pick, but you knew by the sound that something major had happened in awa’atlu. Whatever that is, the sound of the call seems urgent, requiring the attention of the everybody. When you looked above the surface, you happen to see several figures with skin shades darker than regular people of awa’atlu. Not far behind ere banshees you rarely see in the ocean. Your people were surrounding these darker Na’vis, murmurs and gasps could be heard across the beach. 

You saw Tsireya not far away, also riding her ilu, so you decided to whistle to get her attention.

“Who are those, Tsmuke?” You asked her when she came near you. 

“I don’t know yet, tsmuke. We must hurry.”

You saw the people making way for Ao’nung and Roxto, who the two foreign boys greeted with politeness but was met with disrespectful snickering. 

“Look, what is that? Is that supposed to be a tail?” You heard Roxto speak in Na’vi, wanting to touch the tail of one of the guests. This earned a look from the two boys. Ao’nung laughed at Roxto’s comment, seemingly agreeing to his friend, making you frown. What a skxawng! Is this how a future olo-eyktan should act to guests?

Tsireya and you reached ashore, pulling the attention of the darker na’vis into your direction. At this moment, your eyes met with golden ones of the tallest among the children. His eyes seems piercing, scrutinizing you before giving you a small smile with intensity that you froze and stopped walking.

Tsireya didn’t fail to notice this as she giggled, whispering to you. “Tsmuke, let’s go.”

You cleared your throat and looked away from those golden eyes, your heart still racing, wanting to beat out of your chest for reason you cannot understand. Mawey, there’s no reason to be afraid. They are the guests, not you.

Thinking once is not enough, Roxto opened his mouth again, “It’s too small, how are they supposed to swim?”

You eyed Roxto with contempt, thinking to yourself. Did it not occur to you that they are not Reef Na’vi? Skxawng. 

Tsireya, who’s nearer to the Roxto, swatted his pointing fingers and warned. “Do not, Roxto, Ao’nung.” Before smiling to the two. It didn’t escape your eyes and ears when one of them softly mumbled a greeting towards your sister that made her giggle.

You took this chance to hide among the people as they gathered around the visitor, observing them with fascination. You have seen Na’vi in this color, most of them are land Na’vi, thus their difference in terms of skin color and tail shape. Their arms were thin, unlike the reef people’s wide forearms. 

When you heard your clansmen’s whispers, you couldn’t help the gasps that escaped you. It is actually Toruk Makto and his family, the Omatikaya people!

Your heart raced even further as you watched the father of this foreign forest na’vis, the Toruk Makto Jakesuli that defeated the sky demons and brought victory and peace among several clans. It is a tale that your grandfather often tells you at night when you cannot sleep. He must be the eldest son of Toruk Maktob and his mate Neytiri te Tsakaha Mo’at’ite then. That’s why you felt like that because he’s the son of a mighty warrior and he himself had passed his iknimaya. 

You wondered what made Toruk Makto and his family come here in awa’atlu. What could be their reason for visiting a clan from so far away, with lots of baggages and storages in their ikrans. Thankfully, the olo-eyktan has finally arrived in his tsurak along with several hunters and warriors. He landed in front of the Sully family, greeting them with respect. The Tsahik has also arrived, giving you a glance as she passed by you. You knew what that glance meant. She wanted you to be infront, to accompany Ao’nung. 

You wordlessly followed her. You tried to ignore the prickling sensation directed towards you as you emerged in front in Ronal’s tow, ignoring the shiver that went down to your spine when you stood face to face with the oldest sully son. 

“Why do you come to us, Jakesuli?” Tonowari’s deep voice silenced all the awa’atlu people, all wanting to hear Toruk Makto’s response. 

Jake looked at his family and spread his arms wide, “We seek uturu!”

You can hear the collective gasps of your clansmen, the suddenly shift in Ronal’s tail movements indicated her disbelief and displeasure, “Uturu?”

The rest were a blur to you as you looked down at the sand in your feet. Uturu has been asked, and no matter how Ronal dislikes the idea of Na’vis with demon blood seeking asylum in awa’atlu, tradition is not something to be questioned. Safe harbor was requested, and Tonowari shall deliver. 

“Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless. My son Ao’nung and my daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.”

You watched Tsireya guide the Sullys into the village, while Ao’nung looked displeased at his father before looking at you pointedly. You nodded at him with a smile, which made him roll his eyes and follow Tsireya. 

“Girl,” Ronal called you. 

“Yes, Tsahik.” You bowed your head respectfully as her hand landed on your shoulder. 

“Watch over Ao’nung, make sure he does no mistake that will disgrace the clan.” Without waiting for your response, she walked away along with the Olo-eyktan, talking in hushed tones. You watched them silently before looking at the direction where Tsireya and the Sully family walked to.

Neteyam watched the forest slowly faded away from his sight, as they bravely faces the unknown future of their family. No matter how it hurts him to leave his home, Sullys have to stick together. They couldn’t afford losing another one of their family under Quatrich’s knife, and endanger the Omatikaya People for the second time. Their people had lost too much.

He looked at his father, who seems to have aged a lot overnight. His distressed mother who’s forced to leave the place she had spent her life protecting, his youngest sister nestled in her bosom, confused and sad leaving her grandmother alone. His brother Lo’ak who has been silent all the way, still blaming himself for getting his siblings under the enemy’s hand, and Kiri who’s reluctant to leave her ma behind. 

And him… who spent his life striving to become a warrior like his father, excelling as the future olo-eyktan of Omatikaya. 

The return of the sky demons changed their future into something unrecognizable. Neteyam hated it, he hated not being able to see what future holds for him and his family now that they were forced to leave. All his life, he had everything under control (except Lo’ak) and at least he had a grasp of what’s supposed to happen.

Can they really adapt like his father said? Will the Metkayina accept their request for uturu? What could be waiting for them in unfamiliar environment they have never been exposed to? 

They are not meant to be in the ocean. They are forest people, meant to be swinging through vines and flying their ikrans until eclipse. They are meant to fight with bows and arrows, not with spears. Fight in the forest, not the ocean. 

Neteyam cannot help but to doubt, helplessness emerged from his heart and clouded his vision. 

“Trust Eywa’s plans, Neteyam. She will guide you to the right path. Do not fear, for she will be there to watch over us.” Mo’at told him the night before their flight, giving him a small smile and a tight hug, assuring him that there’s always light at the end of the darkness. Eywa’s light.   

Metkayina people are different from Omatikaya in many ways. Not only their physical appearance, but also their way of life. Neteyam wasn’t afraid to admit that they were beautiful.

Especially you. The moment he laid eyes on you, he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter on his stomach that made him flustered internally. When your gaze connected with his, he couldn’t help but to hold his breath. He kept staring at you, tracing your features and wanting to catch your eyes, but you seem to avoid his, hiding yourself amongst your people.

Neteyam felt his stomach flip as realization dawned on him. Perhaps, you also thought him and his family are weird, so you hid yourself. Neteyam looked away, confused by his own reaction. Lo’ak seems to pick it up as he gave Neteyam a knowing look. Neteyam gave him a glare, thinking that Lo’ak is just the same as him, flustered when Tsireya and you emerged from the shallow waters. 

Neteyam calmed his racing heart and thoughts, attributing it as tiredness. It didn’t help that he’s also on edge due to the Metkayina’s reaction towards him and his family, especially when Tonowari questioned his father about the war against the sky people. He wanted to talk but a simple flick of tail from his father stopped him. 

When he saw you behind Ronal and stood face to face with him, he wanted to greet you, but you never once looked at him, simply staring at the sand in your feet. Ronal began questioning his sibling’s blood as Na’vi, making him angry but unable to do anything, so he directed his gaze at you. Thinking it was the reason for your refusal to look at him in the eyes.

“Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless. My son Ao’nung and my daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.”

It didn’t escape Neteyam’s eyes when Lo’ak smiled at Tonowari’s words. Making him wonder about you. Are you not Tonowari’s daughter? Why are you with Ronal?

He looked at you one last time and saw Ronal speaking to you with all seriousness, making him even more curious about your identity. With narrowed eyes, he followed his family into the village. 

The next day, Tsireya came early to the Sully’s marui, intending to fetch the Sully children and teach them the ways of the water. Strangely enough, she was alone with no Ao’nung in sight.

“Will he not come with us? Does he dislike us?” Tuk asked aloud, making everyone flabbergasted. Neteyam quickly covered Tuk’s mouth, afraid that she’ll make it even worse with her next words.

Tsireya didn’t take it to heart as she laughed, stealing glances from Lo’ak. “It is fine. He will come, because someone will watch over to make sure he does his task.”

Neteyam’s heart skipped a beat, the scene of you with Ronal yesterday appeared his mind. “Who?”

Tsireya paused, suddenly clueless on how she will introduce you to the Sully. Ao’nung’s future mate? The next Tsahik? Her closest companion and sister at heart? Before she could speak, Lo’ak elbowed Neteyam. “We’ll know in the future. Tsireya seems a good teacher and i’m sure we’ll learn without Ao’nung.”

Neteyam ignored the loss he felt inside and followed his siblings as Tsireya led them to the shallow waters. 

Mawey. Stop this. Why are you acting this way? Neteyam chastised himself inwardly, crushing the budding hope in his heart that you were somewhere in these shallow waters.

[boywithpinkcarnation]

tbh kinda wanting some jealous!jb like if someone is filtering w her gf OR ESPECIALLY IF IT WAS A ANOTHER GIRL AHH THE DRAMA 🕳️🕳️

alrighty... i am in no way a writer, so this is. going to be bullet point, blurb, word vomit, unedited chaos. additionally, this is gonna be so incredibly self indulgent and catered to me so i hope it suffices for u bug 💝

frankly posting this is very scary for a little tumblr baby like myself, but i feel a need to serve my community 🫡

they style of writing and tbh most headcannons/lore is coming straight from @gingerjolover their blog is lowkey bible and they are the sweetest pookie pie ever. luv u g fr <3 like seriously i recommend you go just read through their masterlist bc this will not compare (not trying to fish here, just being very real as someone who is a like fein for fics as a source of comfort, i fear this will not fully suffice)

rpf content under the cut (no hate if that's not ur jam, just ignore me!), minors dni!!!

refering to jb's parter in this as "gf" and sense i am a selfish selfish girl in this scenerio she is roughly jb's height/a little shorter bc i am and theres no shorter than julien rep ANYWHERE

personally, i see julien as lowkey so possessive in a cutie non toxic way... and sometimes that manifests in some cutie jeleousy that gf can not get enough of. i think it obviously would come out in like flirty enviornments like bars and parties where people are loosey goosey... but sometimes it's just like and about on a normal date. here's a little thought i cooked up for like a more domestic environment jealousy:

aquairum date

the date starts out very normal, classic boyfriend!julien activities are happening

she's making sure y'all are touching at all times. like she'll die if you guys are not physically connected

i'm talking arm around your shoulder, iron grip within intertwined hands, hand in ur jean pocket 16 candles style, hand on the small of your back,,,, but i think eventually (and her favorite, albeit a little awkward) she's hugging you from behind as you walk, almost hanging on you, head perfectly slotted on your shoulder kissing your head and neck at every stop to look at the pretty fish

"jay! look at this one" "real pretty princess" *kisses your head* (its over i can'tttt)

then maybe she leaves you to go get you like a bottle of water or a jacket from the car (idk something to make you more comfortable, very "can't have my baby thirsty/cold" vibes)

then of course, you are looking so cute and so gay, a girl approaches you

you are very focused on the fish bc they are truly just so pretty (can you tell i love fish?) and only look up when mystery girl nudges you

"omg i'm so sorry" "oh uh, you're good" "sorry, i have a bit of a habit for running into pretty girls"

and your're kinda caught off guard bc like... this is an aquarium??

"haha um thank you" "so what are you doing here all alone"

mystery girl is sooo fuck boy coded just go with it

"well um my girlfr-"

julien is back behind you, re koala latching twisting open the water bottle for you and handing it to you, GLARING at this girl

"sorry it took me a second princess, who's this?"

then her grip tightens pulling you even closer to her chest

mystery girl, bless her heart, replies "we just bumped into each other. i was just letting her know how beautiful she was"

oh jb did not like that

she reaches over grabs your jaw tilting your head to the side and back to look at her

"she is beautiful. my sweet girl" and kisses you DEEPLY

and ur blushing because you know jealous/protective/possesive!julien is in the room with us now and kind of giggle out of the kiss

"well then... i should be going, sorry again for running into you"

instead of letting you respond or responding herself jb keeps your face turned and starts kissing all over ur face as you giggle letting mystery girl to just shuffle away.

for the rest of the date she is SO overly affectionate

squeezing ur hips

keeping you so close

kissing your cheek and neck as you tell her about all the fish and animals

"really baby? that's so cool" "my little biologist" "ooo princess what about these?"

it's times like these julien wishes she wore lipstick to leave a mark on your face so everyone knows

she's probably taking you to the gift shop and buying you some random thing for fun because when she's jealous she doesn't take it out on you, she's secure with you and knows you aren't doing anything but being your pretty self

in fact it just makes her softer and more affectionate

when you finally let her drag you out she had you against the car kissing you lovingly and deeply and sets her forehead against yours

"i just love you so much. my sweet girl. my priincess"

"all yours j."

note from c: i hope this is at least semi ok? literally no editing or even proof reading, just love sick delusion.

[sosappyjoos]

Ooooh, well since you love Yunho.

I'll guess I'll request a yunho smut please?

Yunho+praise+possessiveness

Thank you 🙏

Good Kisser-Jeong Yunho

↳Pairing : Jeong Yunho x f!reader

↳Warnings: MDNI! Seriously, dont! Smut, making out, brief mention of vomit (reader pukes on Yunho, but it's not mentioned too much), fingering (f. receiving), dick bulge, dom!Yunho, public sex, f!orgasm boss yunho, office romance, jealous and possessive Yunho, pet names (Sweatheart and baby), praise kink, Wooyoung and Yeosang are in the story but Y/N's friends and co-workers, mention of San. (pls let me know if there's anything else I should add)

Word count: 5,519

Summary: Reader gets drunk one night and talks bad about her boss Jeong Yunho, who ends up taking care of your drunk mistakes that night, including making out with him. But instead of being fired, you find that he's become rather possessive and a bit jealous about your interactions with some of your male co-workers.

Genre: enemies to lovers(?), office romance.

A/N: Aghhh this is my first ever fanfiction and actually my first time ever writing smut. This is unedited, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. But this was so much fun to write, and thank you @whatudowhennooneseesyou for the request. I hope you enjoy it. And maybe part 2?👀 Let me know if you want it. Also if people could please reblog this, that would be so helpful to help it get more attention and help me to continue writing amazing requests like this for everyone to enjoy. Anyways, enjoy!!

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“Fuck you, Wooyoung,” you cried out drunkenly. “Why did you introduce me to this damn job?”

“uh-huh I got it, I’m sorry,” Wooyoung tried calming you, looking around the busy restaurant apologetically.

“I work… I work over time every night, and I don’t even get to have a lunch break,” you raised your arms clumsily in exasperation, standing up from the frustration building in you. “And everyone,” you started waving your arms, at the indication, slightly stumbling. “Piles their work on me since I’m the "newbie." Their work isn’t even my job, I’m a secretary. What am I? Some kind of intern? I'm not even that new! I've been working here for 8 months!" You pointed too yourself, eyes wide. "But you know what?!”

Wooyoung cringed, looking behind you, quickly tugging on your arms trying to get you to sit down. “I get it, I know. Now sit down before you fall.”

You thankfully cooperated. “The worst of them all is Jeong Yunho,” You attempted to say in a hushed tone, but it was still loud. “That bastard really gets on my nerves." You sighed, your bottom lip sticking out in a pathetic pout. "Yea, he’s my boss. But does he have to give me so much work to do?! I can’t even go on any dates because I don’t have time! It's his fault that I'm still single!” You cried. Wooyoung tried covering your mouth, but you quickly shoved his hand away, glaring at him. “He’s always so abrupt, and strict.”

“I understand. Just quiet down, huh?” Wooyoung continued trying to calm you, looking anxiously from you, to something over your shoulder. But you were so wasted you hardly even noticed how nervous he seemed.

“He hardly even talks to me, too! He just tells me what he needs with a few short words and then ignores my existence!" "Does he not realize I'm human? I'm a human being! It's so lonely sitting at my desk where no one but him is around," you whined. "He’s just a mindless working jerk!”

“Y/N, be quiet, huh?” Wooyoung now hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Ugh,” You quickly stood up again. “And stop looking behind me, it’s so annoying!” Standing up that quickly wasn't the wisest move you made that evening, as you quickly lost your balance and began to stumble backwards. Wooyoung’s face distorted to a face of shock as he stood up reaching for you. Your eyes widened and you let out a small yelp before feeling an arm wrap around your waist, stopping your descent to the ground. The realization was a bit slow for your drunken state, but you finally looked up at who had miraculously caught you. Your eyes narrowed and you quickly stood up as straight as you could, your feet still fumbling a bit, your heels clacking loudly against the floor. 

“Jeong Yunho!” You yelled at the man himself as he continued holding onto your arm, stabilizing you. He watched you carefully as you pointed your finger to his face. “You’re a fuckhead!” you giggled at the made up insult. Yunho’s eyes widened with shock at the nickname before chuckling to himself with a smirk on his lips. You slumped a little bit against him, suddenly tired. Yunho looked at Wooyoung, who was watching the scenario you had gotten yourself into with a cringe on his face.

“How much did she drink?” Yunho asked him.

“More than usual,” Wooyoung told him shrugging. “I guess the stress really got to her. What brings you here, Yunho?” Wooyoung asked, a slight smirk on his face. “Did you come because of my text?”

Yunho was silent for a moment. “Why did you both decide to drink on a week-day?”

“We weren’t here originally to drink. We were just eating,” Wooyoung sighed, leaning back in his seat. “But Y/N just kept drinking more and more. I’m sure you can guess why from overhearing her earlier?” He raised any eyebrow at Yunho, scanning his expression. Yunho pressed his lips together, swallowing. He avoided Wooyoung's eyes for a moment. Wooyoung stood up with a grunt before clapping his hand on Yunho's shoulder. “I have to get going now. The guys are wanting to go clubbing.”

“On a week-day?" Yunho asked. Wooyoung simply shrugged, giving a lazy salute with his two fingers. "Aren’t you going to take her home?" Yunho called after.

“That’s your problem now! See you later lover boy,” Wooyoung waved at Yunho and walked out of the restaurant. 

Yunho sighed, annoyed. He held you close to him, as he bent down grabbing your bag and jacket from your chair. He started to make his way to the exit when he was stopped by one of the staff. “Excuse me sir, but the meal over there still hasn’t been paid for.”

Yunho scoffed, and shook his head, knowing Wooyoung left the bill to him. “That little shit.” He mumbled, before quickly paying and walking out of the restaurant. The cold air bit at your exposed face and arms, making you whine. The sound was oddly rather sexual, making Yunho's cheeks warm in the cold weather. He cursed his mind for thinking such thoughts, looking up at the sky, trying his best to ignore any such thoughts. He pressed his lips together, before wrapping your jacket over your shoulders. You suddenly stood up straight, stumbling like an uneven bowling ball, singing a tune that Yunho didn't have a chance at recognizing with your offkey singing. He huffed a small laugh, holding your wrist to keep you out of the way of others and the street.

With some difficulty he guided you to his car, and you didn't make it any easier for him to help you inside. And once you were inside, of course that was when you fell asleep. Yunho let out an exhasperated sigh sitting in the drivers seat. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, looking over at you peacefully sleeping next to him. You had a small pout when you slept, and Yunho found himself smiling at how adorable he found it. He straightened up and stopped smiling as soon as he noticed though. He now debated on where to drive. He'd tried to get your address from you earlier, however that conversation wasn't exactly productive. He'd tried calling Wooyoung, but was sent straight to voicemail. He debated his options, before shifting the gear in his car. “My house it is, I guess,” Yunho mumbled. The drive was quiet, and thankfully, getting you out of his car was not nearly as difficult as getting you in. You had simply flopped over his back, making it easy for him to carry you into his apartment.

But when he was almost to his bedroom door, he horrifyingly heard a gag from you! He hurriedly opened his door, but before he could reach the bathroom, he felt an uncomfortable warm wetness over his shoulder, and a very unsatisfying "Bleugh" from you. You had vomited over his white button up, and he felt unbelievably uncomfortable, his shoulders slumping in defeat with a heavy sigh. This wasn't the kind of thing he'd been expecting on a Wednesday night.

He carried you into his bathroom, leaving you seated on his sink counter. You kicked your feet playfully as he got out a spare toothbrush he'd gotten from a dentist visit. He put some toothpaste on it, and coaxed you into opening your mouth. You cooperated giggling drunkenly. As he began to brush your teeth, you looked up at him with doe eyes. He was once again cursing his dirty mind, and tried his best to not imagine something very different from a toothbrush in your mouth. He closed his eyes a moment trying to reset his mind before he resumed helping you brush your teeth, quite thoroughly.

"This is ridiculous," he mumbled to himself. And he really felt that way, it was a simple task that you could probably do yourself, but here he was helping you brush your teeth, while you smiled obliviously. After your teeth were sufficiently cleaned, Yunho helped you down from the counter top, and guided you to his bed. You sat down, passively looking around at his room.

Yunho took the opportunity to gingerly take off his shirt, grabbing an oversized gray t-shirt. But before he could put it on, a pair of arms swiftly wrapped around his waist, pulling him back harshly. He fell back on his bed, a startled yelp managing to escape him. And there you were, hovering over him, your eyes seductive. You ran a hand through your hair, out of your face, letting it fall gently to the side of you.

“Y/N?”

You smiled, leaning down close to his face, your lips a breath away. His eyes widened, and he swiftly grabbed your arms sitting up, avoiding the impending kiss. You groaned at the sudden separation.

“Y/N calm down."

“I'm calm,” You smiled, your hands cupping his face. You leaned in to kiss him, this time too swift for him to stop you. His eyes remained wide for a moment, before easing into the kiss. The kiss was slow at first, your heart was beating quickly, and your cheeks felt even more flushed than usual because of the alcohol. Yunho gently held the back of your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His other hand held your waist and began to slowly trail up through your shirt, both of you pulling to deepen the kiss. You began to descend your hand down his chest, before reaching the bulge in his pants. You firmly palmed it, making him moan. However, the action brought Yunho back to reality as he realized the situation. 

Yunho pulled away from the kiss abruptly, shocked. You were also shocked but from the abrupt pause. He held your shoulders back as both of you breathed heavily from the make out session. His eyes sparkled as you looked at them, and seemed to hesitate before he avoided yours, distancing himself with you. You reached out for him again, but he caught your arms holding them away from him. “Y/N, you’re drunk.” He shut you down. Your eyebrows furrowed, a protest on the tip of your lips. But he stood up with a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact with you. “You can sleep here on my bed tonight. You have work tomorrow, so rest well.”

He swiftly left the room, and you simply stared at the door. Your head was fuzzy, and your eyelids felt heavy. After waiting a moment in case he returned, you finally laid back on the bed, hardly anything running through your drunk mind as you drifted off to sleep.

___________________________________________________________

You woke up the next morning to your alarm ringing which also triggered an excruciating headache. You groaned, reaching for your phone on your dresser, only there was no dresser as you reached. Your head popped up from your pillow, confused. You squinted around the room you were in, only to see it was not your room at all. You quickly sat up a gasp escaping you, your phone still ringing as flashbacks from the night before came into your mind full swing. Not only had you totally bad-mouthed your boss and he potentially heard it, but you also called him a childish insult right to his face. And to top it all off, you had made out with your “Fuckface” boss after puking on his shirt. You groaned mortified at yourself as you quickly stood to look for your phone, seeing it surprisingly neatly charging on the dresser, with a green sticky note on it. You shut off the blaring alarm, slightly relieving the mind splitting headache you were suffering from. Then you looked at the sticky note. 

“I set an alarm for you on your phone so you'd wake up in time. There’s some new clothes for you in the bag on the dining table along with some food to help with your hangover. You can take a shower if needed. and the toothbrush you used last night is still there, it's the purple one. I sent you where the closest subway station is too. Don’t be late -Fuckface”

You once again groaned seeing the horrid nickname you’d given him written at the bottom of the sticky note, crouching down. “I’m done for,” you chuckled in disbelief, letting yourself simply fall to the floor. “My career is over, my life is over-” you let yourself just whine, absolutely mortified. But remembering the warning against being late to work, you checked your phone, relieved to see that you had time to get in the shower as Yunho had said. You tried pushing your embarrassing night out of your head, so all that remained was your terrible hangover. You got up and walked into the kitchen to see some porridge and a glass of water on the table, along with the bag of clothes Yunho had left. You stared at the bowl of porridge for a moment before slumping down in the seat, eating it quickly. It was tasty, and you couldn't help but think about how thorough Yunho was even outside of work. After showering and getting dressed, and applying what little make-up you had in your purse, you hurriedly left the house. 

The subway station was really close which made things even less stressful for this morning. And even though you still had a bone to pick with Yunho, you were thankful for how easy he had made it for you this morning. It wasn’t like he was the worst boss out there of course. He was just… very very particular about his work, so much so that it didn’t seem like you could hardly do anything “right” according to him the first 3 months of working for him. You were shocked you hadn’t been fired before during that time as it truly seemed nothing was up to his standard. But finally you had gotten the hang of things a bit, and were able to do some things right. It was even more difficult when your co-workers kept giving you tasks that weren’t even for secretaries, let alone a personal one. They all treated you like an intern, and it felt insulting. But you clenched your teeth and did the work anyway, overworking yourself to the bone. 

You took a deep breath in front of your work building, mentally preparing yourself to go inside and face your boss. The same boss you'd most definitely offended, and most definitely kissed last night.

“Good morning,” a bright voice said behind you, and a skipping wooyoung stopped at your side, a giant grin on his face. 

“Good morning, my ass!” You scowled, glaring at Wooyoung. He inched away from you, a . “Why the hell did you leave me to Mr. Jeong, you asshole!”

“I had to leave!”

“But that’s my boss you left me with, drunk! Who I bad mouthed too!”

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he pouted. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, nodding a bit. “Well, I guess you could say something like that,” you mumbled. 

“Ladies first,” Wooyoung indicated for you to enter the building first. 

"Then I insist you be the one to go first,” you smiled sarcastically.

Wooyoung squinted at you, before walking inside, you following close behind, your shoulders sagging in reluctance.

“So, what ended up happening last night?” You both stepped into the elevator

“I’d really rather not talk about it.”

“That bad huh?”

“No, it was worse than bad Wooyoung. All I’m going to say is don’t be surprised if I never come to work again after today,” you sighed, walking out of the elevator together. 

“You’re exaggerating,” Wooyoung squinted at you. 

“I wish I was! I really fucking wish I was.”

You approached your desk which was just outside of Yunho’s office. The lights seemed to still be off inside his office, meaning he still wasn’t there. You let out the hundredth sigh already today as you slumped down in your chair.

“It’s over,” you once again mumbled to yourself, remembering last night's events. The way Yunho's lips were so soft but strong against yours, and the way he held you so close to him. The way his fingers brushed against your skin.

You sat up abruptly though, shutting down those thoughts before your face turned bright red. "All I can do now is try to convince him to let me stay," you mumbled, straightening some papers you had on your desk.

And there he was right down the hall, Yunho's steady foot prints approaching your desk. You quickly stood up, ready to greet him. You bowed to him with a polite “Good morning Mr. Jeong,” as he passed by, opening the door to his office. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, thankful he passed by so quickly.

“Ms. Y/N,” Yunho called, and your head snapped up to him. He was holding his door open. 

“Yes?”

“Come inside,” he simply said, walking into his office. 

“Yes…” you groaned, your shoulders slumped as you walked through his office door.

“Mr. Park wants to reschedule our upcoming meeting to the 27th, adjust my schedule to fit him in,” Yunho said nonchalantly, taking off his suit coat and resting it on his chair. 

“Ah, yes. I’ll quickly do that for you…” You said slowly. You furrowed your brows. 

“Oh, and be sure to remind team 1 we have a meeting today to talk about the upcoming project.”

“Of course,” you affirmed. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit confused. He’s acting the same as always. You stared in a bit of disbelief at him. He settled into his seat, opening a manila folder. He looked up at you, puzzled.

“You can leave now.”

“Ah, right.”

You quickly rushed out of his office and into your own space, looking at his calendar for the 27th. You shifted a few things around, but thankfully there wasn’t much scheduled that day yet. You also sent out a reminder to Team 1 about the meeting that would be held in an hour. After that you scanned your emails, thankful for the distraction. 45 minutes passed of productive work before you stood up, and began getting the meeting room ready, setting out water bottles, folders and snacks on the table for everyone.

“Y/N,” you heard Wooyoung call. You turned around to see him at the door, smiling as always. 

“What do you need this time?”

“I’m just setting up the presentation,” he shrugged, bringing his laptop in, and setting it up to the big screen at the front of the room. Wooyoung was the team leader of Team 1. You already knew by now that Yunho and Wooyoung were actually pretty close, but you didn’t mind. You’d known Wooyoung since high school, and you’d gone your separate ways after during college, and a few years after that you'd gotten back in contact. You were thankful he’d introduced you to such a big job, but Yunho’s constant corrections of every little thing, and abrupt demands and assumption that you knew what he was thinking 24/7 was still exhausting. The powerpoint was open at the ready. Wooyoung walked over to you, as you were restocking one of the snack baskets. He reached over to pick up one of the mini packages of almonds. “Can’t you bring better snacks than these?” You rolled your eyes, attempting to snatch it out of his hands, but he quickly lifted his arm so the snack was out of reach.

“These are fine. Besides, Mr. Jeong likes them right now,” you sighed, once again trying to reach for them. 

“Ah, your prince charming last night?”

You grunted, huffing the hair out of your face as you continued to reach for the snack. Wooyoung let out an annoying giggle which was only getting more and more on your nerves. 

“Ahem,” someone behind you interrupted. You stopped, spinning around to see Yunho, leaning against the glass door frame. He had an eyebrow lifted, and his jaw was slacked. He stared at us, unamused. 

“Oh Yunho!” Wooyoung greeted finally lowering his arm. You quickly snatched the snack out of his hands and bowed to Yunho. You then started filling the snack basket again, but you could feel Yunho’s eyes still on you.

“Is everything set up?” Yunho finally asked Wooyoung. 

“Yes, everyone should be here in just a minute.”

________________________________________________________

The meeting had started out fine, but Yunho quickly began analyzing the imperfections and holes in Team 1's product plan, seemingly extra irritable. Poor Wooyoung was a mess trying to reason with Yunho and keep up with his frequent “attacks.”

“Apparently he also woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Wooyoung mumbled to you, packing up his laptop. 

Well, once again, it was something like that. You patted Wooyoung's shoulder encouragingly. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you tried. “And it’s good he’s bringing attention to these things early on so it runs more smoothly when we finally start on the project,” you reasoned. 

“Y/N,” Yunho said sternly. He walked up to you and Wooyoung. “I need you to copy 70 of these and distribute them to all team members personally. After that I need you to plan and schedule the Breakfast Banquet in June. I expect it to be half-way finished by today. Oh, and I also need you to contact Mrs. Lim about the advertisement set-up, and have her change the place to somewhere more… exotic.” Yunho piled. You had gotten out your tablet halfway, frantically typing down everything he had told you, precisely. “Oh, and bring me some coffee and some lunch. Make sure it’s something refreshing.”

“Yes, I’ll start on everything right away,” you said, as he began walking away. 

“Ah, and if this is too abrupt and strict for you, then… so very sorry,” he gave you a sarcastic smile, before walking away

Your jaw dropped as you watched him leave. So this is about last night. You closed your mouth, letting out a scoff.

“You regretting what you said last night yet?” Wooyoung teased. You slammed the papers Yunho had handed you onto the table, and gave Wooyoung a scathing glare. Wooyoung took the hint and quickly left you seething.

______________________________________________________

The next day you came to work with very prominent dark circles under your eyes. The additional work Yunho had piled on you had proven to be very difficult and you left work way later than usual, absolutely drained. You were thankful it was now Friday, impatient for the weekend. 

“Woah! What happened to you?” Were Wooyoung's first words seeing your face at your desk. You glared at him. "You look like shit."

"Thanks for boasting my confidence there," you said in a monotone voice. “I worked overtime last night.”

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Couldn’t be me. I went clubbing with some girls. Yeosang and San came with me,” he bragged. This only made you more annoyed. 

“Clubbing. On a weekday?” you let out an annoyed chuckle. “Wooyoung, you better get out of here in 3 seconds or I strangle you.”

Wooyoung gave another smile and quickly walked away from your desk. You sighed holding your temples. You heard Yunho step out of his office, and you quickly stood, bowing to him. He pursed his lips gradually approaching your desk. 

“The Breakfast Banquet planning looks good so far. You can slow down on the project now over the next few months. And Mrs. Lim called with the new location for the ad. It fits well,” Yunho told you awkwardly.

You gave your best smile. “Glad to hear it.”

He nodded, walking away slowly. 

“Glad to hear it,” You mocked yourself. “More like that’s what I better hear, you-!” Your phone pinged and you glanced down at the message. It was an announcement of a team dinner with team 1 that you were invited to. You smiled, excited for ending the evening the right way.

“Y/N!” You looked up and spotted one of the members of Team 2, Han Yoonjung approaching your desk, with a big smile. Your own smile faltered. Yoonjung was one of the main perpetrators of passing off her work to you. And she always made it practically impossible to say no to.

“Hi, Ms. Han,” you greeted politely. 

“Oh come on. Call me Yoonjung, I don’t mind,” she smiled. “Hey, so tonight my boyfriend made some plans to go out to dinner that I totally forgot about. Problem is I have a bit of a project that I need to finish before tomorrow. Would you be able to finish it for me?” she asked. 

You paused for a moment, already annoyed. “But I actually have a bit of plans tonight. There’s a team dinner.”

“Oh those are lame anyways. Always so stuffy and boring. I'd actually be doing you a favor helping you get out of it,” she dismissed. “Please?”

You hesitated on what to say, wanting to refuse more firmly while still being polite. You opened your mouth to speak, but someone spoke before you could. “She said she had plans tonight.” You looked at Yunho as he approached the both of you. 

“Oh, well I was just asking for a bit of a hand to help,” Yoonjung tried to excuse herself. 

“Doing a full project for another worker is hardly a bit of a helping hand. That's quite literally doing their job for them," Yunho explained. Yoonjung was about to speak again, but Yunho beat her to it. "I can’t say I’m impressed that you keep handing off your work to my personal secretary,” Yunho raised an eyebrow. Your stomach jumped. Yes! Help me out of this for once, please! I stayed here way too late last night for you not to stand up for me!

Yoonjung shrank down. “I was just asking since I wanted to go to dinner with my boyfriend and-”

“And I don’t see why Y/N would need to take responsibility for that,” Yunho interrupted, sternly. Yoonjung swallowed, her cheeks red. “I also know this isn’t the first time you or others have asked. Y/N is a personal assistant, not a crew member on one of your teams. Her job is very different, and important for me." Yunho said. His defense was giving you butterflies, which in a way felt pathetic, but you couldn't help but feel a little giddy. "Y/N doesn’t accept work from anyone else, unless it’s been pre-approved by me. I hope you spread this to your co-workers as well,” he told her in a firm yet gentle manner, making sure to stay professional. You looked down at the ground, swallowing a victorious smile. 

“Yes sir,” Yoonjung affirmed. Yunho gave her a short polite smile before she walked away. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jeong.”

“Of course. And it's true, you shouldn't be accepting work from others unless I approve, so don’t hesitate to call for me,” Yunho smiled. He then lifted his hand which held a coffee. “You seemed tired so I got you some coffee.”

You blinked in shock, and then finally grabbed the coffee. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he dismissed, walking away into his office. You held the back of your hand to your cheek, trying to cool it. You couldn’t help but smile as you sipped on the beverage, and sat back down at your desk.

_______________________________________________________

The restaurant was loud with all your co-workers from Team 1 talking and laughing. You were also thankful to be participating in the fun.

“You seem more energetic since Yunho’s additional tasks yesterday,” Yeosang said. He was sitting across from you taking a sip of the water in front of him.

“Oh. It wasn’t so bad,” you dismissed, taking a bite of food. 

“Yea right,” Wooyoung chuckled. “Your dark circles were practically sagging to our feet this morning.”

“Stop exaggerating,” You shoved him. It was true that it was a lot of work, however your mood about it had significantly improved after talking with Yunho. You felt a bit pathetic for feeling so happy over such simple things like him praising you, or defending you against co-workers shrugging their responsibilities on you. But it did make you happy, and you took the optimism gladly. Suddenly there was a rush of shocked conversation around you. You looked up and saw Yunho’s tall and lithe figure walking into the restaurant. Wooyoung and Yeosang waved him over and he approached the three of you. He sat down next to you smiling. He looks so cute. You thought. You may have not always been a fan of Yunho, but you weren’t a liar. He was obviously a very attractive man. So attractive it was sometimes hard to be mad at him. You made eye contact with him and your stares lingered for a moment, before you both looked away. You chewed the inside of your cheek, unsure what to do with yourself now. 

“You made time to come. We’re glad to see you,” Yeosang clapped Yunho’s shoulder.

“I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I came,” Yunho shrugged, taking a drink.

Everyone was enjoying their time eating, drinking and talking. As Yunho, Wooyoung and Yeosang talked and goofed off, you couldn't help but smile along. You were getting a bit tipsy, and decided to dismiss yourself to the bathroom real quickly. You stared at yourself in the mirror, pinching your cheeks a bit trying to remain as sober as you possibly could. Your cheeks were already a bit flushed, and the pinching didn’t help at all, but you couldn't get drunk tonight. Not after that fiasco a few days ago.

You walked out of the bathroom, and there Yunho was leaning against the opposite wall. He walked up to you, a shy look on his face.

  “Listen,” he starts, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry for piling all that work on you. I understand it was a lot, and it was petty of me to get back at you.”

You sucked at your teeth taking in his apology. “Don’t worry about it. I’d have to work on all of it eventually, so it was a good head start. Besides, I said some pretty terrible things about you.”

“Guess we’re even now,” Yunho said. 

“Well actually, about that other night-” You started, but Yunho shifted uncomfortably and interrupted you.

“I think we should get back to everyone, don’t you think? Wooyoung and Yeosang will definitely eat all of the meat if we're not there.”

“Oh. I guess so.”

You both started walking back to the group, but before you could be in view of the others Yunho leaned down trapping your head behind a busy booth, whispering in your ear. “You’re a good kisser though.”

Your cheeks flushed and your heart was throbbing as you both sat down. Yunho hid a smile as he sipped on his drink.

“Y/N, were you able to get that guy's number last weekend? I left before seeing you actually do it,” Yeosang asked. You sank down in your seat, embarrassed for some reason.

“No… He left before I could ask,” I said shyly. 

“Come on, you hardly go clubbing with us and you missed this one opportunity to get a guy's number,” Wooyoung whined. “Why don’t you come clubbing with us again this weekend?”

You glanced over at Yunho, his tongue was in his cheek, and nose slightly flared. “I think I’ll actually pass,” you said.

“Then should I be the one to get your number and show you a fun time?” Wooyoung teased.

You fake gagged. “Wooyoung that’s just not right,” you said. 

“You’re right,” he shivered at the idea. 

Yunho quickly stood up now, swinging his suit jacket over his shoulder. “I have to get going now. Wooyoung, make sure to use the business card.” He quickly walked out of the restaurant. You frowned at his abrupt departure, you'd slightly been hoping to talk more.

“What was that about?m He looked pissed.” Yeosang mumbled. Wooyoung and Yeosang dove back into conversation, while you were lost in thought. What did Yunho mean exactly, by being a good kisser? Why would he say that to you? Was he wanting to forget that night, or remember? You couldn't tell what he was hoping to achieve by complimenting your kissing skills, and it was killing you.

Your phone pinged, dragging you out of your thoughts. The message was from Yunho.

I’m down the street by the bus station. Meet me there in 5 minutes. 

Your heart leaped and you quickly exited the message so Wooyoung’s nosy ass wouldn’t see. You waited for a moment, before standing up with your bag and pulling your long coat on. “Hey I have to get going now. I’ll talk to you guys laterm though.”

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang protested as you left, but you simply waved and walked out the door. You pulled your jacket closer around you, your hairs rising from the bitter cold. You walked at a quick pace to the bus station Yunho had mentioned. You didn’t understand exactly why you felt so giddy. He probably forgot to give you some business file, but for some reason the thought of seeing him in private made your stomach feel jumbled, especially after he had suddenly complimented your kissing skills earlier.

 You arrived at the bus station and looked around. There was an older man, drunkenly sleeping on the bench, but Yunho was nowhere in sight. You felt the giddiness start to dissipate and your shoulders started to slump when you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist. You turned and saw Yunho quickly pulling you to a dark small alleyway making the giddy feeling come back full swing.

He pushed you against the brick wall, arms holding the wall on both sides of your head. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes sparkling from what little light there was around, but his eyebrows were still raised with an air of sternness. You were breathing heavily, your heart beating quickly from the unexpected turn of events. Finally he leaned down to you, kissing your lips with vigor. You kissed him back matching his intensity. He held your head, and tilted into the kiss, deepening it, now holding your waist with his other hand, pulling you closer to him. The wetness in your panties was inevitable at this point, especially as he placed his leg between yours. He broke away from the kiss, and you briefly worried he would stop like he had last time you’d made out. Instead he spoke in a hushed tone.

“I thought I gave you so much work you didn’t have time to date? You were going to give your number to some guy at the club?” He then started to kiss down your neck, the hand at your head now traveling down your leg. 

“I thought of it, but decided not to after remembering how much I wouldn’t have time for him,” you breathed out.

“Ah, is that why you decided to flirt with Wooyoung instead?” Yunho nibbled at your collar bone.

“Wooyoung and I don’t flirt. He’s basically a brother to me,” You sighed, biting your lip. Yunho moved his hand to the inside of your thigh, traveling up your skirt. You got a run of shivers from his touch along with the cold. 

“And?” Yunho asked, his lips once again at your neck. His long fingers were now brushing the hem of your panties. 

“And I’d never date him,” you told him.

“Good girl,” Yunho said, finally placing his hand over your clothed pussy. He could feel how wet you were, soaking through your panties. He stopped kissing your neck and looked at you now, smirking. “You’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he hummed. You let out a shaky breath, trying your best not to moan. You gripped onto his arm as his two fingers pushed aside your panties, smoothing over your slickness. “Were you wet like this the last time we made out?” he asked.

You couldn’t even respond, just desperate for his deeper touch. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you closed your eyes, trying to enhance what you were feeling from his fingers. “Your little pout is so pretty, baby. Do you want more?” he asked. You only nodded. You could hear him breathe out a chuckle as he slipped his two fingers inside you. He let them slowly reach up, and slowly pulled them out once more, making you almost moan, but you quickly covered your mouth, choking back the demonstration of pleasure. 

Finally he began to slowly pump his fingers inside you, trying to subtly find your g-spot. Finally, his fingers reached it, and you trembled a little bit, letting out a small whimper. Yunho gave a sly smile. “Found it.” Now that he found it, he was intent on using it as much as he could. As he massaged your g-spot he used his thumb to rub your clit. You were trying so hard not to moan with every pump now, and could only let out small quiet whimpers now. “You’re staying so quiet for me baby, you’re doing so well,” Yunho now whispered in your ear.

“It feels so good,” you whispered back. 

“Better than wooyoung, or that guy could ever make you feel, right?” He asked. You only nodded now, unable to speak. There was tension building up in your stomach, and you held tight onto Yunho’s wrist, feeling your orgasm on its way. “You got it sweetheart. Cum nice and sweet for me.” he encouraged, feeling you start to clench around his fingers. Your relief was hanging on by a string as he fingered you even more rigorously, and he rubbed your clit even harder and faster. Finally your breath hitched as that string finally snapped, and your body shook a moment from the intense orgasm. You barely stifled your moan, but your legs started to lose strength. Thankfully Yunho held you up with strong arms. “You did so well,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. 

“Hey, we should all go for a second round!” You heard Wooyoung's voice approaching from down the street. You quickly looked at Yunho, frightened to be seen in this state. Thankfully he understood your look. The sad part was his fingers leaving your insides, as he used his other hand to spin you away from the outside view of the alleyway. His tall figure blocked you completely from outside view. 

“Haven’t you had enough to drink?” You heard Yeosang reason, very nearby now. Yunho’s head tilted, listening intently. You could see the group's shadow begin passing by in random conversation. 

Yunho gave you a seductive glance, sticking his two fingers which were inside you inside his mouth, sucking. You stared at him, turned on once again. He took the fingers out of his mouth leaning down to you. “You really did cum nice and sweet for me,” he whispered after the group had passed. 

You rolled your eyes, an inevitable smile on your lips. You stood on your tippy toes, giving him a kiss, which he gladly accepted. You broke the kiss, and he looked at you curious. “Am I really that good of a kisser though?”

[butt3rnugg3t]

Tell Me A Tale

Authors Note: Plz be nice!! First thing I've written and posted in like 4 years, I'm rusty! I fear there's a lot of dialogue. I'm thinking of making this with multiple parts but for now this is it.

OH! And this isn't set in Hawkins. So, this is an AU where Eddie is just a hot tatted dude. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. 👍

Word Count 702 (Unedited)

The bell dings, echoing through the small shop on the corner of 5th and Main. Floor to ceiling bookshelves wrap themselves around the store, dust settled in on a few shelves. The door said open, but the vacant counter to the right of the door was unoccupied. Maybe Eddie had read the sign wrong, but he was about 90 percent sure the sign said open.

“Hello?” His voice seemed to echo around the space for a moment before a loud clattering sounded from the back room. 

“Be with you in a moment!” drifted back to him, followed by another series of clashes and finally a few curses. That caused Eddie to smile softly to himself. Another few minutes passed by before he finally saw a pair of legs appear out of the back room, just legs because the rest of her was hidden behind a large stack of books, stacked haphazardly in her arms. “Sorry about making you wait, it's technically my first day working the store by myself and as you can probably tell I've got my work cut out for me."

“I can see, I thought this store had been here for the past 20 or so years though." Thats what Steve had told him when he brought up needing a new copy of 'The Hobbit'.

Eddie grimaced as the store owner tripped on a loose bit of the carpet and almost dropped everything before quickly correcting herself. Taking a deep breath she finally deposited them at the counter before turning to take Eddie in. And Eddie in turn was finally getting all of her as well. She was just as frumpled as he thought she would be, it made him smile.

Denim overalls layered on top of a plain black t-shirt, bright red converse on each foot. Mismatched socks along with her hair looking like it was about to fall out of the messy braid it was forced into. Skin slightly damp from the sticky summer heat that had taken over the city during this hot July afternoon. She looked adorably...tired. Like she had been running on zero sleep and 3 cups of coffee. He felt bad for just realizing it, even though he had just stepped into her store for the first time.

"Yeah, once again, sorry about the mess," She stepped around the counter truly taking the mantel of 'bookseller'. "Um yeah, I just took over from my grandmother." The pause between her words seemed forced, necessary for her to calm down. He felt a stone fall into his stomach, waiting for the next words to fall from her lips. "she's not doing too great recently but," she paused once again, regaining her composure. "Sorry, I'm sure you didn't come in to hear about my life, how can I help you?"

To her credit, Eddie was sure he'd be a blubbering mess if he had to go on and act like everything was fine if (heaven forbid) anything were to happen to Wayne. He certainly wasn't going to hold her small word vomit against her. He also wouldn't mind hearing all about her life if he were to give him the chance.

"All good, I'm actually looking for a copy of 'The Hobbit'," He stepped over to stand across from her, the counter between them. "My last copy is covered in strawberry ice cream" (read: Dustin made a mess)

"Ah, unfortunately were out of our copies. But if you're willing to wait I can order one for you on my next shipment?" Eddie was convinced this girl could talk him into anything. Even if he was in a hurry to own the book again. (He wasn't)

"Yeah, It's absolutely no rush. What do you need for that?" He watched her pull out a receipt pad, jotting down the book title and price in swirly handwritten letters.

"Just a name and good number to contact you at? For when the book comes in," She was quick with the second sentence. But regardless, Eddie was completely content leaving his personal information in her capable hands. And within minutes the book was paid for, and he was set.

All he had to do now was wait for her call.

[glazemeda]

note; i'm sick and i just want tighnari to take care of me... this is pretty much a word vomit for myself. I'm not a medical expert so don't pay much attention to those details, thank you. tags; sickness, medicine, light angst but mainly fluff, unedited.

No one doubted the Forest Watcher's knowledge when it came to plants and medicine. He remembered every use there could be for each plant, and always had some remedies prepared for most situations.

It's only obvious that he would take care of you, as your loving boyfriend... except, that meant you wouldn't be able to escape from his disappointed stare.

"Didn't I tell you to be careful around this time of the year?" Tighnari sighed, eyes searching for the correct medicine for your sickness.

"I know, but-"

"Ah, ah." He cut you off, one of his gloved fingers touching your lips. "I'm sure your throat is pretty sore already, so don't talk. I'm sure my darling lover won't be a bad patient now, yes?"

You looked down, feeling a bit flustered, as he went back to looking between the various remedies he carried around. He had warned you about how cold the forest could be during this season, and the rains didn't help, yet you ignored his words and ended up giving him more work.

"Sorry." Your throat was sore, but you felt like you had to apologize for cutting his free time even shorter.

The touch of those familiar gloves appeared once again, warming your skin when his hands cupped your face.

"Hey, you know I'm not actually mad, right?" His thumb caressed your skin. "It's not only because of the sickness, during this time it's easy to slip up and fall in the forest, and the rain would make it harder for me to hear you if something did happen."

His warm, soft lips pecked your forehead, descending to leave two gentle kisses on both of your eyelids.

"You'll have time to worry once you're healthy, but don't think about anything else but your own health until then." His hands moved, stopping for a second when he noticed you chasing for their warmth unconsciously.

"Drink this, I promise we'll cuddle when you get better." His smile was sweet, one of the sweetest you've seen, one only for you.

...That's what you thought, until the medicine touched your taste buds. Did all the sweetest disappear from the bitter herbs to go to his smile? He kept looking at you like that, and you knew you wouldn't escape from drinking it all.

At least he gave you a kiss on the cheek for being such a good patient.

taglist; @frozen-daydream

[littlemissfasd]

I wrote this a while ago, Unedited. Long one.

Warnings - mentions of alcohol usage, grief, vomiting, smut.

It had been almost six months since ellie broke up with Hayley, Ellie insisted there was no reason but you knew it was because she lost joel. Since then ellie had barely spoken two words to her, until christmas night.

Every year like clockwork, people would gather to eat, give and receive presents and get drunk. Tonight was that night, myself and a few others spent days helping Maria and Tommy prepare for it, and finally we were done. The chatter and laughter started to take over as more people started to show up. Tommy pats me on the shoulder and leans closer "hey..uh i know you and ellie aren't on the best of terms but she's really struggling."

I let his words sink in and sigh "i'll check on her." He gives me a sympathetic smile "how are you doing?" I ask, knowing its the first Christmas since Joel passed. God i miss that miserable old man.

"I'm getting there." I hand him a drink and nod "He'd be proud of you Tommy." His eyes light up a little as those words leave my mouth, he says nothing instead he pulls me in for a tight hug.

"Don't you ever forget that." I whisper before pulling away, i can tell he needed to hear it as his tears well up slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow okay?" I say, he nods waving at me as i start to walk off.

I walk around the crowd, knowing I don't do well in the midst of them. I walk down the street past Joels house, Maria insisted on putting all of joels favourite decorations up one last time. It looks beautiful. I kneel down placing a single flower on the grass "Merry Christmas Joel." I whisper as i stand up.

"Oh your here" I don't have to turn to know who it is. I can tell just by the attitude, i let out a dry chuckle "Hey Ellie." She says nothing and stays behind me, i turn and she stares blankly at the house.

"So stupid." I look down, staying silent and watching as the woman takes a few steps towards the house.

"He's dead, he cant see this shit." She says picking at the lights looped around the fence.

"Ellie~" she cuts me off with a laugh "don't give me the 'He'd like it' speech. Please." My eyes narrow seeing her hands, bloody and shaking "You're drunk." I comment and she turns to glare at me.

"Its Christmas." I shake my head "You can't handle drink." I say, not trying to sound mad but failing. "God! You're so annoying. You always fucking were. Checking up on shit that never concerned you. Insecure fuck man." My eyes widen at the insults that leave her mouth with ease.

"Wow." I say looking away "you know ellie..i was the one who found you. It was me who got joel back here. No one else fucking wanted to! I found you. I brought you back. I stayed with you. All for you to turn around and what? Throw me out? What, did it get to real Ellie?"

Her eyes widen as she listens to me rant.

"You hurting is not a reason to hurt me. I'm sorry about Joel. I am, if i could change it i would because i cant bare to see you like this." She stumbles slightly, i reach for her grabbing her sleeve to keep her steady.

"Can you take me home?" I sigh and nod "Yeah.." i keep ahold of her sleeve as we walk towards her house, once getting there she fumbles with the keys before dropping them "for fuck sake!" She screams slamming her fists against the brick wall.

"Jesus ellie!" I yell grabbing her hand, my own gets covered in her blood as it pools from her knuckles. I sigh and pick up her keys, unlocking it i turn to her "Go." She mumbles something i didnt catch as she walked inside.

"Sit down ill look at your hand" i say, she doesn't argue for once, she does as she's told. "How much did you drink?" I ask, grabbing the first aid kit she just points at the few scattered beers and a bottle of whiskey which doesn't have much missing from it.

"You know you're not supposed to drink on your medication." I say, i walk to the counter where shes sat and stand in front of her holding my hand out "stop trying to control me." She mumbles and places her hand in mine.

"Please find a dictionary and find the word control because what i just said does not fit under that." She winces as i wipes the blood from her knuckles, i can feel her staring at me but i ignore it and clean her up. "You haven't broken anything but it will be sore for a few days" she just nods, i take a step back closing the first aid kit.

"I don't know how to stop feeling like this." She says, digging her nails into the palm of her hand in an attempt to calm herself down. I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything.

"You came back." She whispers after a moment of silence.

"I promised i would." I mumble, she nods slowly staring into her lap.

"You should sleep. The alcohol mixing with your antibiotics..doesn't feel good. So lets get you to bed before then." I say, fidgeting slightly she nods and hops off the counter "Are you staying the night?" She asks as she walks around the kitchen and into the living room "uh..i can do." I offer, she nods "please." Theres a sense of sadness in her voice, one I couldn't ignore so i agreed to stay.

"Here." She says handing me one of her shirts and a pair of shorts, i thank her and head into the bathroom to change.

-

I wake up to the sounds of Ellie vomiting, i rub my eyes as i make my way to the bathroom. She sits against the toilet shivering "You alright?" I ask, she jumps at my voice and turns to me "I should have listened to you." I chuckle and sit beside her.

"Yes you should." I say matter of factly earning a small smile from her. She groans and rubs her forehead before throwing herself forward, i hold her hair back as she vomits. She lets out a frustrated yell after she finishes "i'm sorry im so dumb" she whispers, leaning her forehead against my shoulder.

"Everyone throws up, el. It's not an issue." She gives me a look and sighs "can you help me change my bedding?" I nod immediately guessing she didn't make it to the toilet fast enough.

"Just..get in the shower and clean yourself up, ill sort the bed out." I say, she doesn't argue and just turns the shower on and i leave giving her some privacy.

Her bedroom hasn't changed, the same posters sit on her wall, the photos of her and joel are gone now though. She used to have them on her nightstand but i guess it was too much.

I walk over to the bed and see a small puddle of vomit on the duvet, i strip it off making sure to put the sheets straight into the sink to get it off. I walk back and check the sheet, its clean but i change it anyway.

Ellie comes in around fifteen minutes later, looking a little better than before. "Thank you." She says motioning towards the bed. "Not a problem. Get some sleep okay?" As i walk past her she grabs onto the sleeve of my shirt "Don't go." My eyes connect with hers to see tears welling up "I'll be right out there, el" she shakes her head as a tear falls "Please. Don't leave." My heart shatters seeing her cry, i nod "okay.." i agree, still holding my sleeve she takes us both to the bed where we lay down.

She had sobered up, vomiting definitely helped that situation but you could tell she still felt rough. Her head leans against my shoulder as she fiddles with my sleeve. "I'm sorry. Not just about tonight..but everything. Yelling at you, breaking up with you. Im sorry."

I listen and nod, "i know." She looks up at me, her eyes look sad and dull "i lost..everyone." I shake my head "i'm right here." I whisper my hand slipping into hers, she tenses a little but softens again and holds my hand tightly.

"I tried everything to distract myself. Nothing worked." She says, her voice dead.

"This feeling wont last forever love. One day you will be okay." I don't even realise the use of the nickname until her eyes widen slightly reacting to it. "Uh.." i laugh awkwardly, shaking her head a small smile tugs at her lips "Don't worry about it.." she says.

I sit up, clearing my throat, she does the same "I mean it..It's okay." My eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Ellie.." i whisper, she hooks her finger under my chin pulling me closer, her lips graze mine causing a gasp to leave my mouth.

"Can i.." she whispers, i nod "Please.." i sound desperate, but in this moment I don't care, i just want her.

She kisses me, softly at first but she grips my hips pulling me into her lap deepening the kiss, i hear a small moan leave her mouth as our tongues clash against each other. I wrap my arms around the back of her neck, pulling away from the kiss.

"Are you..sure?" I ask, knowing her emotions are everywhere and I don't want to take advantage.

"Yes, please.." her eyes soften.

"O-okay.." i nod, she wastes no time and lays me down, hovering over me. "I've wanted this..for so long." She confesses pinning my hands just above my head.

"You could have said el." I mumble, humour in my voice.

"You never gave me an inkling that you..wanted to. Even when we were together" she says with a smirk, i nod knowing she's right.

"Well..now i am so stop talking and do something before i change my mind" her eyes widen at my words but she does as she's told and leans down, kissing my jaw and down to my neck, sucking gently earning a small gasp from my mouth. She likes the sounds that leave my mouth, they force her to lift my hips up forcing the oversized shirt up to sit on my stomach.

I can see the blush rise on her cheeks as she stares at my bare skin "I.." she start but stops herself by scooting down and kissing my bare stomach, with each kiss she goes higher, bringing the shirt with her as she goes. "Off." She whispers when she's sick of having to move it, i lean forward and she pulls it off me, chucking it off to the side leaving me in nothing but my shorts,

"So pretty." She whispers kissing around my chest, I don't have the tome to respond instead a loud whimper leaves my mouth as she bites down gently on my hardened nipple "Ellie.." i whine, she looks up at me almost as if she's trying to read me.

"What, love? Tell me" i shudder as her hands graze my stomach, going down to the drawstrings of my shorts, i feel them loosen and know she has undone them. "Use your words baby." She whispers, my mind is clouded feeling that warm sensation in my stomach worsen with every touch of hers.

"I just..i need you please." I beg, her hand slides easily into my shorts her fingers dip into my drenched pussy "what do you need me to do honey?" I gasp at her fingers, i can feel myself getting wetter by the second "i- i need you inside me. Stop teasing" i stutter like a fool but the smirk on Ellie's face reads she doesn't mind and likes this side of me, the side where i cant even form my words because im so weak by her touch.

"Say please" i let out a whimper at her words, a strand of her hair falls against her face as she stares up at me "please el.." She nods and sinks a single finger into me, i can feel her knuckle against my skin "oh~" my head tilts back against the pillow feeling her finger curl against my insides.

"Please move.." i plead, she says nothing and moves her fingers slowly, i groan and pull her face down to mine kissing her hungrily. Her free hand wraps gently around my throat, she knew i enjoyed choking, it came out in a drunken conversation when we were dating, im more shocked she remembered.

She pulls away from my lips and pushes a second finger in, a loud gasp leaves my mouth "good girl, taking me so well." She nibbles my ear gently moving her fingers at a fast pace, i cant even form words as the pleasure rips through my body forcing my back to arch and my head to fall back "i- im close" ellie looks at me as if she's going to use that as a challenge "Don't coms yet baby." She warns, her fingers pressing a little more pressure to my neck.

I whine at her words "please..i cant.." i pant, she shakes her head tutting at me "Do as your told, you hear me?" I her fingers slow down a little waiting for my response, i nod "words." Is all she says, the way she says it almost makes me finish right there and then. Dominate ellie doesn't come out often but i loved it.

"Yes- yeah" i stutter, she mumbles a 'good girl' before her fingers pick up there pace once more "oh god!" I yell out, covering my mouth because I wasn't expecting my moan to be that loud, she removes my hand "Its okay, i like your noises." My eyes roll into the back of my head as her fingers curl against that one spot, my hips buck against her, she can tell i wont be able to hold it for much longer.

"You need to come baby?" She asks, a smirk sits on her face "yes, please.." i pant, unintentionally trying to wriggle away from her hand. She grips my hip forcing me to stay "nuh uh pretty girl." I let out a groan, i cant hold it for much longer and she's loving every second of my struggle, she leans in close to my ear "come on my fingers baby." With that she thrusts her fingers once more, deeply and harshly forcing my orgasm to rip its way for me.

"Oh fuck!" I moan, my eyes stay shut as she keeps her fingers inside of me, watching as i come against her hand "f-fuck." I pant, my breathing is ragged and uneven as my orgasm ends "good girl." She whispers, she removes her fingers bringing them to my mouth.

"Taste yourself baby." I open my mouth, taking both of her fingers inside. My tongue laps my own release from her as she bites down on her lip at the sight. She removes her fingers, kissing my head.

"Your turn." I mumble.

Her eyebrows raise a little, clearly not expecting that.

-

[tokkiyuna-rabbit]

Thread of Hope

Summary: The war had taken everything from Henri: his family and his home. Now as an orphan, Henri tries his best to survive, but hope is only a small string and his will to live is an even smaller thread. In the first winter of being an orphan, Henri is pushed into an underground resistance. Will he be able to succeed as a member of the Resistance or face death itself?

Unedited, Unrevised Chapter 1

Notes:

I am not tagging the fandom that this fanfiction was supposed to go. I do not want it to be found lol

I have posted this before on a different account before deleting it. I am the same person

I do not have plans to continue this story, but maybe I will talk about what I had planned out?

Though, I do have a second chapter almost done from what I can tell based on looking back at the document.

Chapter is too long, so I put it under cut.

January 1941

Henri coughed as the cold air-dried his throat as he made his way down a street. The winter wind makes him shiver, and it does help that his clothes are worn out. Henri had never liked winter since he hated the cold, but he also hated winter as it symbolizes death. Thinking of the symbolism makes him want to cry, but he was not allowed to cry, especially during these times. War. A word that he despises. Henri kicked a rock into an alley. If it wasn't for the war, he would be at home with his parents. A warm home and even warmer parents.

He walked into the empty alley and fell to the ground. He cannot help to shed tears as he thinks about what life could have been. Scratch that, what life should have been. He shouldn't be an orphan digging food out of the trash can. An orphan that slept in boxes. An orphan that had no hopes. Henri let out a small whimper as he pulled his knees to his chest. He tried to warm himself up but to no avail. The wintry winds blew, and the sun was too weak to share its warmth. Henri squeezes his knees as he becomes more desperate to warm himself up. Eventually, he angrily stands up and marches out of the alley. There was no point in sitting still if he was going to freeze. He quickly calms down as acting differently from others around him could make the German soldiers suspicious of him. He quickly realizes it was a good thing as he starts to hear shouting. He stops on track and hides behind some men.

"What is happening?" Henri whispers.

"Don't be speaking French. You know that's illegal. To answer your question, apparently the man in that house is a resistance member," the man whispered.

"I thought he was a criminal. Not a resistance member," another man whispered.

"A resistance member is a criminal!" the man hisses.

"What will happen to him?" Henri asked.

"You want to know what happens to that scum?" A rough voice spoke. Henri and the other men jumped as they call turned around. They quickly recognized that the new man was a German soldier. "Those scums are executed. There is no need for pathetic man to be around. Oh, and do not speak in that language. You look like an orphan, so I'll let it slide today." Henri nodded, but he was not entirely sure what the soldier said as he spoke too fast.

"I'm sorry," Henri whispered to the men, who had all turned around and ignored his apology. Henri watched as the man was forced into the back of the car and taken away. People began to walk away, but Henri stood there in disbelief. He hoped the man could escape death. He watched as people started to slowly hide in the nearby stores or in their homes. Henri sighed as he turned around and walked away. These scenes were no longer a surprise, but they didn't stop him from being frightened. He couldn't imagine one day being home and sent to death the next. Henri began feeling sick and hurried down an alleyway, where he vomited. His throat began to burn even more, and his legs shook like a newborn lamb. Eventually, his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor. Henri breathed heavily, hoping it would slow down his heartbeat and bring some coolness to his burning throat. Henri leaned against the wall. He grabbed something from his pocket. The small item was covered in a small cloth. He uncovered it to reveal it was a small doll. The doll was a handmade wooden wall. It had no limbs but looked beautiful. He held the doll close to his chest as he sang a lullaby that his mother used to sing to him. As he sang the last note, he heard footsteps. He quickly covered the doll and put it in his pocket; while the doll was important to him, it was embarrassing that he had had one since he was a boy. Henri looked up to notice a soldier was walking down the alleyway. Henri sat still, wishing he could turn invisible. Of course, the soldier noticed him and stood in front of him. Henri breathed in and stood up, looking at the soldier. The soldier took a quick look over him.

"What are you doing here?" The soldier said. Did the soldier ask why he was here?

"I felt sick, so I threw up in the trash can," Henri responded in Luxembourgish. The soldier looked perplexed.

"Answer me in German," the soldier demanded. Henri looked down. He was hoping his Luxembourgish could help him since the language was quite similar to German.

"I can't speak German," Henri responded. He could hear the soldier becoming irritated. Henri felt terrified, but luckily, he heard more footsteps.

"Stein, we are in the French-speaking areas. He's probably speaking Luxembourgish," another voice called out to the soldier. Henri looked up to see a young soldier.

"I don't care! He should be speaking German," Stein yelled. He looked at Henri with absolute disgust. "I don't know why you are not speaking German, but you better learn it if you know what's good for you." Stein pushed Henri and marched down the alleyway.

Henri pushed himself from the wall and placed his hand on his shoulder. He's ashamed to admit that he was quite frail and weak. He suddenly felt another hand on him, which he knew was from the young soldier. Henri jumped as he backed away from the young soldier. The young soldier apologized.

"You should really learn German. I think there is a school nearby that can teach you," the young soldier said in French. Henri could feel his mouth hanging.

"I can't go there. I don't have money to afford the classes. I learn German through hearing the people speak around me," Henri whispered. The young soldier looked at him with pity but soon looked stern. Heavy footsteps returned. Henri knew it was probably another soldier.

"You! How old are you?!" Henri turned around to see it was Stein again, but with another soldier.

"How old are you?" Henri heard the young soldier hiss. Henri then realized what was happening. They wanted to draft him into the war!

"Véierzéng (14)!" Henri responded. He didn't remember the age when he could be drafted, so he held his breath in.

"You're 14? He's too young then. Even if he was the age, just look at him. He's too frail and week. He'll be dead within a day," the other soldier said. Stein nodded. They both turned around and walked away. "Beilschmidt, you better come." The young soldier nodded as he walked with them.

Henri breathed a sigh of relief. He was just terrifying enough to see a German soldier, but to talk to one? That was death looking at you. Henri spent no time standing around as he quickly made his way out of the alleyway. He did not need to speak to another soldier today.

The sun began to settle down, and Henri was now freezing. In the daytime, at least a small amount of the sun gives him warmth, but the nights are when the cold really begins. His breath was shaky, and his body was shivering. He would walk faster, but his legs would not move faster. It ignored his pleas to go faster. Soon, Henri walked under a bridge where he gathered wood. Over the year of being an orphan, he had luckily learned how to build a fire. He used all his strength, drilling the stick into the others. Sparks flew, and flames emerged. The immediate heat brought comfort to Henri. He leaned as close as he could to the flames. He smiled as the cold soon disappeared, and he could relax. Henri built a fire near the edge of the bridge so he could look at the stars. The stars were his favorite thing about the night. It would remind him of all the times his father took him and his mother to go watch the stars. His face began to freeze, so he turned to the fire but was startled. Henri turned his head completely to the other side and noticed a man sitting beside him. It wasn't uncommon for homeless people to sit with him for the warmth the flames provided, but that didn't stop Henri from being nervous around them. He turned to look at the flames once again but kept his hand on a pocketknife that he had taken from his home. It belonged to his father, and Henri did not want the blood to smear it, but if he had to defend himself, then he will.

"I don't know what you are grabbing, but I am not going to hurt you," the man whispered. Henri loosened his grip on the knife. He turned to look at the man, who was staring at his hand. "Let go of whatever you're holding."

"Why? So, you can rob me? That is not happening," Henri hissed. "Being robbed twice is enough for a lifetime." The man rolled his eyes and looked back at the flames. Henri took the pocketknife, setting it on his side of him. He placed his hands on his knees. Henri could see the man instantly became calmer and relaxed. He turned to Henri.

"You know what? You look familiar," the man said and leaned in. Henri quickly grabbed the pocketknife. The man immediately moved away from him. "I swear I have seen you before. Move your hair."

"If I look familiar, wouldn't you know my name without me moving my hair out of the way?" Henri asked. The man sighed and leaned in again. He quickly grabbed his arm, the one that held the knife. Henri tried to fight the man, but the man was stronger and managed to move his hair.

"Henri? Henri Friedan?! What in the world are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home?!" The man shouted. He moved away. Henri moved the pocketknife in front of him. The man knew Henri, but he didn't feel safe with him after what he did.

"Yes? I don't know? I can't exactly make fire out in the open," Henri replied. The man shook his head.

"Where's Lucien, your father?" The man asked. Henri then realized that the man knew his parents. He could feel his eyes watering up now that he had to face reality once again.

"He was sent to the military, but died soon after joining," Henri whispered. He looked at the flames as tears began to fall from his face. He had always been the type to cry, but he hated it. After all, boys don't cry. It's the weakest thing a boy can do. Henri wiped his eyes as he waited for the man to speak again, but there was nothing for a while.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Henri. What about your mother? She still has to be around," the man spoke. It seemed like the man still believed that one of his parents was alive. Henri whimpered as he shook his head. Why could he stop crying?!

"She's gone. I'm out here waiting for the war to be over. Maybe I can find a job once that happens," Henri responded. This time, Henri looked at the man. The man was looking at him. As Henri looked at the man, he noticed that he was wearing a pin. The colors of the pin were ones he was not expecting. It was the colors of the Grand Duchess. "Wouldn't you get in trouble with that pin?"

"No. I don't think I will, and even if I do, then it would be worth it. My loyalty lies with the Grand Duchess, not that toothbrush mustache man," the man laughed. Henri snickered as he heard what the man referred to the German leader as. Now that he thought of it, that man's mustache does look like a toothbrush. Henri then began to laugh out loud. It was the stupidest reference he had ever heard.

"Be quiet!" The man hissed as he covered Henri's mouth. Henri took the pocketknife and placed it on the man's arm. "Ssh! Soldiers!". Henri instantly put the pocketknife away. He turned to the flames and shoved snow onto them to extinguish the fire. Henri and the man sat in silence.

"You two! Out under the bridge now!" Henri and the man looked at each other. The man quickly took the pin off and placed it in his pocket. The man grabbed Henri's hand and walked out from under the bridge. There, Henri saw Stein and three other soldiers. His heart jumped when he noticed the young soldier! Was his name Beilschmidt? "What do you think you are doing here at these hours?"

"I was checking up on this young boy. I thought he was lost," the man responded. Stein looked at him and growled.

"Not you again! Go home or else I'll put you in the army early!" He yelled at Henri. Henri stood still. He was scared. He didn't want to run in case they thought he was trying to escape. He didn't want to be shot. Stein seemed to get angrier as the seconds passed. Luckily, it appeared that the soldier beside was a rank higher than Stein.

"Stein, let the boy go. He's of no threat. That man doesn't look threatening either. Let them go," the high-ranked officer tiredly spoke. The man took no time to run off, leaving Henri alone. Henri sighed but then noticed a glint in the snow. Henri looked at the soldiers, who were walking away. Seeing they were gone, Henri picked up the small item on the floor. It was the pin the man wore! The pin with the colors of the Grand Duchess! Henri placed the pin into his pocket and ran. He had to find a new sleeping spot. Luckily, he could find a box with no snow on it, which meant it was barely thrown out. Henri moved the snow off the ground and found a smaller box to lay down on. It seemed like the night ended in his favor.

He was wrong. Henri was dead wrong. When he awoke, he noticed that something was wrong. He sat up and saw that he was covered in snow. Great, someone had stolen the box he was using for cover, but that wasn't the worst of it. He looked down to see his shoes were missing as well! Henri growled as he held his feet. What kind of scumbag steals from a child?! Henri sat still for a while as he tried to warm his feet up. Once again, his eyes began to water. Out of all the times, why was he crying now?! Henri cursed under his breath and noticed a man and a woman staring at him. The man looked angry and held a hammer in his hand. Henri realized that the man didn't want him here. Before the man could get near, Henri ran down the alleyway.

Despite his feet being practically frozen, he was able to run away. He guesses that's what adrenaline does to someone. He slows down and slips onto the ground. He lifted his feet on a brick. He breathed in and out, hoping to catch his breath. Henri wondered where he could find some shoes. He didn't want to steal shoes, but he didn't have the money to afford shoes anyway. Luckily, Henri, over the months, learned how to sneak around. After all, how was he supposed to feed himself? Once he caught his breath, Henri stood up and walked around. He finally found a shoe shop. He walked to the back and noticed some shoes were thrown away! He quickly hid in a hole in the wall. He would have to skip eating today as he needed to wait for the dark to cover him. Henri began to hum a lullaby once again. In times of stress or sorrow, he could always turn to the lullaby for comfort.

Henri opened his eyes to see that the sun had set. He smiled as he looked out of the hole. Henri slowly walked out of the hole and tiptoed to the garbage can. He peeked and saw several shoes. Henri sighed. Most of the shoes were so worn that it was worthless, but there was one shoe that was barely worn out! He grabbed the shoes and put them on. He then walked down the alleyway. It felt nice to have shoes on again! The best thing is that he was asleep for the whole day, which meant he could stay up for a while to make sure he found a better spot to sleep. He did not need his shoes to be stolen again. Henri found a small makeshift home. He walked around the home and looked in the window. The makeshift home appeared abandoned! Henri quickly entered the house and blocked the entrance. Henri yawned as he sat down on the makeshift bed; before he knew it, he was asleep.

The light of dawn hit Henri's eyes as he woke up. He groaned as he knew he would have to leave the safety of the makeshift home, but he knew he couldn't stay here. There was a reason why it was abandoned. Henri swung his leg off the bed and put on his shoes. Henri held his stomach as it cried a sorrowful cry. He was starving. It was time to find food. Henri quietly and hurriedly walked out of the makeshift home in search of food.

The town's streets were empty, and a slight, white fog blanketed the town. It was an eerie look, but Henri didn't have the time to be frightened. This was the perfect opportunity to find food. He quickly turned to the corner onto a street where he knew there was a bakery and a grocery store. He snuck into the grocery store through one of the windows. When Henri became an orphan, he quickly learned which food was best when homeless. He needed canned food. He realized that he liked canned pork and canned corn. Maybe he could grab an apple to go. Henri needed to eat something but didn't want to eat the canned food until it was necessary. Henri found the canned foods and began to put them in a bag. He had to be quiet and fast. He packed at most a minuscule 10 canned meat and 10 canned vegetables. Henri started to hear footsteps, so he quickly grabbed two apples and climbed out the window. He felt bad for stealing, but he thought he had no choice. Who wanted to hire an orphan anyway? Henri used many boxed to walk on to avoid leaving a trail. Once he was far enough, he got off the boxes and ran into an alleyway. Since he had left footsteps at the store, he couldn't risk returning to the makeshift home. He walked down the alleyway looking for a place to settle for a minute.

Finding a place to settle around these areas was difficult. Henri knew that it was because the business didn't want the homeless here, so it was no surprise many of the spots that would have been good were teared up. Eventually, he found a large box and hid under it. Henri took out one of the apples and bit into it. The apple flavor quickly covered his tongue, and it had been the sweetest food he had eaten in a while, so Henri couldn't help but smile. Unfortunately, the apple was soon gone. He wanted to eat the other apple but would save it for the night.

"Those boxes? Nah, it's all trash. You can take them," a woman's voice was heard. Henri realized that he may be under a box about to be taken! He crawled out of the box and sat still. Henri peeked around the trunk to see the young soldier and Stein! This was terrible news. Henri quickly made his getaway, and it seemed that it did not go unnoticed.

"You! Stop right there!" An angry shot rang. Henri's heart jumped, and he began to run. He ran as fast as he could. The best part about being born in a town and living in it is that you know almost all the shortcuts and hiding spots. Henri could crawl into a hole in the ground and push cardboard onto it. "Where did that kid go?!" Henri could hear the shouts of the soldier. He sat still and waited for the footsteps to disappear. Once they did, Henri sprang from the hole and ran into the streets into a new alleyway, but he crashed into someone. Henri looked up, and paper flew around him.

"I'm so sorry!" Henri shouted as he collected as much of the paper as he could. He held them close to his chest. The man growled as he got onto his knees.

"Watch where you are going!" The man shouted and picked up the other half of the paper. The man looked at Henri as if he wanted to yell at him more but then ran.

Henri turned around to see a German soldier! The soldier noticed him and started to run at him. Henri bolted out of the alleyway and into the streets. He ran as fast as he could while forcing the papers into his bags. He ran into another alleyway and climbed over a fence. Henri began to slow down, but then he heard shoes slamming onto snow and concrete. Of course! Henri should have known the soldiers would be able to jump over fences! Henri tried to leave the alleyway but was slammed onto the ground.

"What's in your bag?!" The soldier shouted. Henri managed to remain on his knees and began to kick the soldier.

"Let me go!" He shouted as he managed to kick the soldier's stomach. The soldier groaned and loosened his grip. Henri used that as an opportunity to turn around and push the soldier. Still, the soldier quickly composed himself and grabbed his left arm. Henri flailed his right arm, hitting the soldier in the face. He used his left arm to hit him, and Henri then grabbed an item from the soldiers' pocket. He pointed the thing to the soldier's face. It was his pistol! Henri's heart dropped as he realized that he had stolen the soldier's gun and could have possibly killed the man. The soldier backed up. "G-go away! I don't know what's in my bag, and I don't want to hurt you!"

"Kid, you can hand me the gun, and we can see what the paper you were carrying was," The soldier pleaded. Henri didn't want to comply. Something about the papers didn't seem right, and the soldier reacted even worse. He shook his head.

"No! Go away! Please!" Henri yelled. The soldier nodded as he backed away from him. Once the soldier was out of his view, Henri ran out of the alleyway without bothering to hide the pistol. He was too startled to think straight and ran into another alleyway. He collapsed onto the ground and hid behind a box. He panted. He needed to catch his breath. Who knew Henri would one day get into a fight, no less with a soldier?! Henri didn't know whether to feel proud or stupid for his actions. Henri grabbed one of the flyers and looked at it. Henri was right about the flyers being suspicious! The leaflets were in French and were propaganda flyers! He decided to feel proud and relieved about his encounter with the soldier. After all, being caught with propaganda flyers could lead him to jail. Henri placed the paper back into the bag. He then remembered that he had that pin with the colors of the Grand Duchess. He took the pin out and looked at it. Would he be considered a criminal now? Fighting a soldier and carrying propaganda flyers wouldn't exactly make him a law-abiding citizen, now would it. He placed the pin back into his vest and held the gun to examine it.

"I was sure the kid ran into an alleyway around here!" Henri gasped as he realized the soldiers were near and we were looking for him. Henri ran from the spot he was in and took the gun with him again. He was not going to jail.

Now in an alleyway further away, Henri decided to take out the flyers from his bag. These papers were only bad news. He had to get rid of them. A hand grabbed Henri's shoulder as he was about to throw them away. Henri spun around and saw a man. The man had spiky blond hair, light stubble, and blue eyes. The man's eyes widened, and he backed up. Henri could feel one of his eyebrows rising. He was confused. Why would the man back away from him? That was when Henri saw the pin with the colors of the Grand Duchess. This man was of no danger to him.

"Umm, why are you carrying that?" The man asked nervously. He kept eyeing Henri's hands. Henri lifted the flyers up. Was he talking about this?

"I accidentally knocked into someone, and he dropped these. I tried to be nice and pick it up for him, but then a soldier came. I had to run from him, so yeah. That's why I have these," Henri rambled. He shoved the flyers in front of himself. Henri looked at the man, who looked confused but relieved. The man even began to chuckle.

"I was talking about the gun," the man pointed at the pistol Henri was carrying," though, that does answer my other question!" Henri sheepishly put down the flyers and looked at the pistol. Henri mentally facepalmed. Of course, the man meant the gun! Why would he be worried about flyers anyways?! Henri looked back at the man.

"Oh.," Henri whispered. It was the only thing he could say. Henri took a step back. He wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out of it again. The man seemed to notice Henri's hesitation and walked up to him.

"Look, give me that gun," he demanded as he grabbed Henri's arm. Henri dropped the gun out of sheer fear and surprise at the man's action. The man grabbed the gun and placed it in his pocket. "Come with me." The man began to pull Henri with him. Henri tried to stop the man.

"Where are we going?!" He shouted. He tried to hardest to remain on his feet, but the man was strong. Henri fell to the ground. He began to hyperventilate. Was this man undercover?! Was he pretending to be on the side of the citizens to make it easier to capture resistance members?! What did he want with him?!

"I'm not going to hurt you! Get up now!" The man growled. Henri shook his head. He didn't want to go with the man. He wanted to stay where he was. The man sighed and stopped pulling but did not let go of his arm. Henri sprang onto his feet, but he felt like the man wouldn't hurt him at this moment. "It's best for you to come with me. Soldiers have recently been catching anyone who appears to be a resistance member. With your bag and having a gun, they might've spotted you and are looking for you. I'm going to take you to an area that is safe."

"H-how do I know you're not an undercover soldier?" Henri sputtered out the question. The man began to chuckle. He dragged Henri close to him and leaned in.

 "I would never be with those people. I would rather die than serve for them like a dog," the man hissed. Henri nodded. He was still scared of the man, but now he felt he had no reason to truly fear him.

"Ok, I believe you," Henri whispered. The man smiled and patted his head. He then pulled Henri towards him.

"You're still going to come with me," the man said. This time Henri did not object. He walked with the man to wherever he was going. Though, he wanted to know where they were going.

"Umm, Mister, where exactly are we going?" Henri asked. The man did not answer, and they continued walking down the alleyway.

The man pushed a door opened, and Henri entered. There were a lot of beds in the room. The man pointed to one of the beds.

"You can sleep here for now," the man said. Henri nodded and sat down.

"Is this an orphanage? I rather not be in one. No one wants to adopt a 14-year-old boy," Henri spoke of his concerns. The man shook his head and grabbed Henri's bag.

"No, this isn't an orphanage. Don't worry, you're safe. I'm going to take the bag to see what the flyers were about. I won't take anything of value," the man explained. Henri sat still and watched as the man left with his belongings. Did he just get robbed? Again?! No wonder his mother was always concerned with him with strangers. He was not observant enough of their personality. Henri groaned and laid down. Luckily, he still had his four most prized possessions on him, so everything will be ok. Henri wrapped himself around the blanket and slumbered off.

"Hey, wake up!" Henri groaned as he slowly woke up. Was someone talking to him? "Can you wake up already?!" Henri's eyes slowly opened to see that the room was dark. He yawned and looked to the side. "You take forever to wake up. Get up." It was the man from earlier. Henri pulled himself out of bed.

"Umm, isn't it nighttime? Why are you waking me up now?" Henri asked as the man again pulled him out of the room, but not into the streets.

"There's something I want you to see and meet," he said. The man opened the door, and there stood a group of men. "Henri, meet the Resistance members, and you all, meet the new recruit!"

"What?!"

End of Chapter 1

[astxlphe]

Day 2 // Kuniatsu

Kunikida and Atsushi’s relationship, a year after getting together.

love languages / enduring “Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away.” -Louis de Bernieres, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

( @bsd-rarepair-valentines-week) 

(Not sure it fits the prompts that well, but well.)

“Atsushi?”

Atsushi looked up from his paperwork. “Is there something wrong?”

“I’m closing the office.” Kunikida approached to stand next to him, glancing at the files on his desk. “Are you finished?”

“Not yet — I’m checking a few details for tomorrow…” he trailed off as Kunikida scowled.

“You need to wake up early tomorrow. I’ve calculated, you will to be waking up at 5:15.”

“It’s way too early!”

Him and Dazai started the day in surveillance — tailing a suspect in the latest murder case the agency had been asked to help with in the hope of catching their accomplice. And Atsushi did not want to mess this up.

“Unless you go home now.” He checked the time. “To be at full capacity for your case tomorrow morning, you need to start sleeping in exactly 12 minutes.”

“But—”

“You’ll do fine,” Kunikida interrupts, leaning over his shoulder to close the file. “If you get some sleep.”

“…All right.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’ll go to bed.”

Kunikida nodded sharply, and waited for Atsushi to put his things away. They walked back to their shared dorm together, Atsushi’s hand resting at the crook of his elbow.

Precisely 12 minutes later, they were in bed. Atsushi curled himself up against Kunikida, head on his laps, and closed his eyes, willing to let himself drift to sleep.

The older man turned on his lamp and open his book, his fingers running through Atsushi’s hair, scratching his scalp just enough to make him more comfortable.

A soft scratch at the right spot dragged a low, rumble like sound out of him. “I like that,” he mumbled.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Kunikida asked.

“You made me purr.”

“Tigers don’t purr, they chuff. You chuffed. It was adorable.” He put off his reading light and closed his book. Then, he lied down into bed, pulling himself closer to Atsushi, who immediately grabbed him like a hug pillow.  

“You usually read for longer than that.”  

“As your senior,” Kunikida said, propping himself up on his elbow, “I need to be a good example for you, to make sure you actually sleep. I don’t want to keep you awake; it wouldn’t be professional.”

Unprofessional, as if said senior wasn’t currently sharing a bed with him.  

“You’ve kept me awake plenty of times. Are you…” Atsushi chuckled. “Are you worried?”

“No, I’m not.” Seeing the way Atsushi’s eyebrow almost went over his hairline in disbelief, he elaborated: “I have no reason to.”

Atsushi pushed himself up and kissed Kunikida on the lips. He spluttered a little.  

“Not even a little bit?” Atsushi asked playfully.

Face flushing, Kunikida huffed. “You don’t trust yourself enough, so I have to do it in your place. I know you, and even if your recklessness is the bane of my existence—"

“Wasn’t that Dazai?”

“Yes, it is, actually, Dazai,” he conceded. “But it comes close second!”

“You wouldn’t like me half as much if I wasn’t prone to recklessness?” Atsushi tried.

Kunikida wrinkled his nose. “Maybe.”

It made Atsushi smile. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For trusting me. Now just let me—” He snuggled some more against him, sighed in contentment, and promptly fell asleep.

After wondering how Atsushi could fall asleep so soon after closing his eyes, Kunikida marveled at how calm he felt.  

Loving Atsushi was the most unexpected, yet the easiest thing Kunikida ever did. He had spent a long time denying the strange twist in his stomach every time he thought of him ever existed — because Atsushi didn’t meet 29 of his 58 requirements.

And now there was the calm settling inside him as he listened to Atsushi’s soft breathing, his arms thrown around him, making Kunikida feel warm enough to fall asleep content.

Perfect, he thought. Requirements met or not, this was perfect.  

+

“So—”

Atsushi almost ignored him. “What is it?”

“I saw you and Kunikida leave together yesterday night.”

“How did you— you had already left for an hour!” Atsushi shook his head. “And of course, we left together, we live together.”

“But you never leave work together! He’s having a terrible influence on you. Now you work overtime.”  

“I was only doing overtime because I was worried about today,” Atsushi admitted. ”Kunikida convinced me to stop working.” He shook his head when Dazai gasped loudly, and leaned against the wall. “He made me feel better.”

Dazai wiggled a suggestive eyebrow. “Did he?”

Atsushi rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you a 24 years old man?”

“You’ve changed so much, Atsushi! I can’t tease you anymore — you used to get all red whenever someone brought up you and Kunikida!”

“I’m not blushing anymore because I’m not exactly shy about it anymore. It’s —” he frowned, looking for the right word. “It’s different now.”

And he still wondered, over a year later, why this man had decided he was worth his time — he wasn’t the smartest, most well read, most punctual, most…whatever Kunikida had expected from partner. He was just the brat.

“Different,” Dazai repeated plainly. “Really?”

“Yeah! It’s…comfortable?” He tapped his chin, thinking. “Remember at the beginning? I was always nervous around him because I was so in love with him, and our relationship was really new, and I was thinking about what should I wear, what’s should I say, I was—”

“You were scared,” Dazai completed for him, “of not doing enough.”

Nodding, Atsushi twisted the collar of his coat. “I guess so? And once I wasn’t scared about it anymore, I was scared that my feelings were fading.”

“Couples starting out all over each other and it fades after some time.” He nodded as if he’d come up with the concept himself.

“That’s it. We were just…settling in some kind of normalcy.  and I was worried over nothing.” He laughed awkwardly. “I’m still a bit of a scaredy cat.”

“I don’t think you are,” Dazai said pensively. “You were worried because you care.” He gave him a complicit smile. “Here is a secret: Kunikida was always worried about everything at the beginning too. But Dazai, he’s not going to like that. Dazai, do you think Atsushi would mind? Dazai, tell me if Atsushi likes this kind of flowers! Dazai, Dazai, Dazai—”

Atsushi hid his face behind his hand. “I don’t believe you.”

“I was his resident Atsushi expert. At least, until he figured the formula to make you happy.”

“Dazai—”

“But it’s true! Kunikida is a worrywart.”

“No, Dazai, look! That’s them!”

Dazai peaked from the corner of the street, following his gaze. “You’re right!”

+

Under Kunikida’s paperweight was a little note. Since Atsushi had left before he was awake, he had put it on their table in the morning, and it was covered with his scratchy, barely legible for the average human being handwriting.

“Have a nice day! I’ll see you tonight” it read. He slipped it out from under the paperweight and into his notebook to serve as a page marker.  

The office door opened. “We’re back!” Dazai bellowed, and flounced across the room to end up at Kunikida’s desk. “The police almost didn’t let us go.”

Kunikida’s eyebrow twitched. “What did you do?”

“They just wanted our statements,” Atsushi told him as he walked in behind Dazai. Kunikida kissed him hello, and he noticed the rip in the sleeve of his shirt, just under the shoulder. “He tried to stab me,” Atsushi explained sheepishly.

“He means the criminal,” Dazai clarified when Kunikida’s sharp eyes focused on him.  

“We managed to catch them and gather enough evidence to prove their guilt, and they’re now in police custody. We will give you the report tonight.” Atsushi went on, getting on his tiptoes to straighten Kunikida’s glasses. “They were askew.”

“Did I hear about paperwork? Aaaand that’s where I take my leave,” Dazai announced as he disappeared from their field of vision. “It’s been a long day!”

“Maybe you should wait for tomorrow for the report.” Kunikida looked miffed. “Dazai is bouncing on the walls, he’ll just distract everyone.”

“Are you telling me not to finish my paperwork early?” He smiled cheekily. “Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

“See if I’m this lax with you again,” he scoffed. “It was supposed to be a reward for a job well done, but it seems like you don’t need it. I want that report in an hour.”

“Wait no! Please let me do it tomorrow! I was almost stabbed!”

“Fine! Tomorrow night. But don’t tell the others, they will think I’m going soft.”

“They already think that.”

“Tomorrow, lunchtime.”

“UUgh!”  

+

“You don’t have to help me sew my clothes every time something happens.”

“We would have to buy a new one once a week. Besides, I want to help.”

“Thanks but, we wouldn’t —” Atsushi winced at the thought. “I would bribe Akutagawa into fixing it for me.”

They sat at their table; Atsushi’s ripped shirt spread in front of them. Kunikida held the sleeve as Atsushi did the needlework, closing the hole in the cloth.  

“One day Akutagawa will stop taking your bribes.”

Atsushi snorted. “He won’t. He likes me too much for that.” Not that he would ever admit it. “Dazai was pretty happy when Akutagawa started dragging me to his team dinners.” He made a face. “It still feels weird saying it. You should come, sometimes.”

“I don’t think they would want me here.“

“They wouldn’t mind that much; they think you’re okay.” They had no reason to dislike Kunikida. “Oh, also, Dazai told me something about you today and…” He almost dropped his needle. “I’m not sure I really believe him—”

“What did he say, now?”

“He said you would always ask him for advice? About me? When we started dating last year.”

“That man—” Kunikida muttered. “He promised.”  

“You mean it’s true?”

“Be careful with your finger.” With a short movement, Kunikida adjusted the sleeve’s position so Atsushi had easier access. “It’s true,” he ended up confessing. “I’m not sure how to express this.”

“If you throw random words out, I’ll probably be able to take a wild guess?”

“It’s just that I had such a clear idea of who I was going to fall in love with, I already knew who they were, what they were going to like and then—”

“And then it was me.”

“Don’t say it like that,” he scolded, and cut the thread once Atsushi was finished sewing. “But yes, it was you, and you threw a large, occasionally tiger-shaped wrench in my carefully crafted plans.”

The wording made Atsushi laughed. “So you asked Dazai for help?”

“You two are very close! It was a logical decision, if not a little risky. And I made a list in my notebook.”

“Alright now I’m curious about that. Is it about me?”

He tugged on the shirt’s sleeve, testing the strength of Atsushi’s sewing, and acquiesced.

“What does it say?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You can’t just tell me you wrote in your notebook, about me, and not expect me to ask about it!”

It was a list of things Atsushi liked.

A long, bullet point list of everything that he could use to make Atsushi smile. Back then, he’d thought it necessary, but he knew all the information he’d gathered by heart now. Like the exact spot to scratch in Atsushi’s hair.

He’d started it without realizing it, and by the time he had over dozen entries, he’d wondered how he ever doubted loving Atsushi.

“Your shirt is fixed,” he simply said. “Do you want to try it on to make sure it’s fine?”

It took a second for Atsushi to answer, during which he stared for what seemed like a long time. “You’re really sweet, you know?” he declared, as if he’d guessed what Kunikida was thinking. Then, he pulled the shirt off the table and put it back on, flexing his arm a bit. “It’s perfect, thank you!”

“Just be thankful it wasn’t beyond repair.”

“I’ll try to keep the number of people trying to kill me to a minimum, I promise.”

[prcserpina]

my father came home for the first time in weeks & wrenched my bedroom windows open, said i needed to stop shutting myself away from the world. left the blinds half-shut, setting-sunlight filtering through, cars passing like ocean waves, a mist of peach-gold spilling onto the floor. the room was so hot i stripped down without caring who could see & almost forgot how it felt to have my skin bare under the sun - and yet this body always stops feeling like my own in the summertime. i call it a side effect of heat-haze when it’s really just escapism at its very worst / it’s times like this when i want to get the fuck out of here but my bones are too heavy to lift. my bones are always too heavy to lift. i want to get the fuck out of here. i don’t know how to say that i’m scared of june dragging itself ‘round again, how my stomach’s aching like there’s something missing (lost). so i ran out of matches last night. maybe i’ll just burn up. maybe i’ll get lost again. maybe i’ll burn up.

[sailoryooons]

Mixtape | One | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: You've had a crush on Yoongi for most of your life. On a holiday trip to the cabin, you’re reunited with Yoongi after not seeing him from two years and things go less than according to plan.

☾ Word Count: 15,236

☾ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers/brother’s bff, smut, angst

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Explicit language, implied age gap (three years), reader experiences light teasing for her crush, light depictions of anxiety, light depictions of self-deprecating thoughts, perceived unrequited feelings, a little bit of pining, drinking alcohol, recreational uses of marijuana, mentions of vomiting when drunk, depictions of drinking and being drunk, reader and Jungkook have some social anxiety and it's described, multiple time skips to start (i'm sorry) Yoongi being a little bit of a slut, general awkwardness from multiple characters, sexually explicit comment including: oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), voyeurism if you squint, cum-eating, Yoongi being caught in bathrooms multiple times, dirty talk

☾ Published: March 30, 2022

☾ A/N: Hi hello this is my updated author’s note as I re-do my masterlist formatting. This series is still largely unedited, but maybe one day I will get to it. It is near and dear to my heart, and often what people know me for writing. I hope you enjoy, despite this writing style being completely different than what I do now.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Playlist | Series Masterlist | Next Chapter | 

The first time you meet Min Yoongi is unceremonious. You’re used to Seokjin bringing home loud boys, filling the marbled hallways of your home with noise and whining. That’s what you notice most about your older brother’s prep school friends: rich, pretentious boys who yell and gripe when they don’t get their way.

Min Yoongi isn’t like that. You almost don’t realize that Seokjin is in the gaming room playing video games with another human being until you’re rounding the couch, about to throw yourself next to your brother when you notice the slighter figure playing quietly, cat eyes focused on the large screen ahead of them. 

“Oh.”

Slowly, his eyes drift toward you. They’re dark and fathomless, far too deep for a boy who is barely a teenager. 

At eleven, you still get nervous around pretty boys. Min Yoongi is the prettiest of them. Soft, round cheeks with smooth skin. Dark hair that hangs in those coal-dark eyes. Pink, pouted lips that form a soft ‘o’ when you surprise him, staring at him with wide eyes, chewing on your lip. 

“Sorry,” you squeak, bowing slightly as you rush from the room, cheeks aflame. Usually, you leave Seokjin alone when his friends are around. It isn’t that Seokjin minds- you just don’t like most of the other fourteen-year-olds he brings around.

“That’s my little sister,” you hear Seokjin announce, your heart pounding as you leave the room. “She’s a little shy, sorry.”

You don’t know what Yoongi’s expression is. You barely even hear him murmur the words, “Cute.”

-

You manage to avoid Min Yoongi for the first week. Though he’s new to the private school you and Seokjin attend, he’s become fast friends with your brother. Though you never see Yoongi in your home, you know he’s there when you see his beat-up shoes at the door.

On days when Min Yoongi is around, you make yourself scarce. His cherubic face and soft eyes are enough to make you unbelievably shy, ducking into rooms any time you hear his raspy voice from down the hall. 

So you hide away, preferring to watch Sailor Moon while Yoongi and your brother make themselves comfortable in the gaming room. 

Seokjin has tried to draw you out of your room multiple times, but you refuse, insisting that you want to stay in your room. Seokjin gives you a smirk, knowing that you hide because of the beautiful boy spun from moonlight downstairs. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. He just smiles and ruffles your hair. 

Officially meeting Min Yoongi happens when you least expect it. You’re in the music room next to the foyer, hands gliding across the keys of the piano. You don’t need to look at the sheet music to know the notes that you’re playing, letting muscle memory guide your small hands over the ivory. You discovered early on that you’re not particularly athletic like Seokjin or artistic like your mother, but you can play piano, and that’s enough for you.

The notes sweep into a crescendo, building a steady swell before the wave crests and breaks at the top of the piece, making its statement before it drifts downward, a soft hush at the end of the storm. Your eyes are closed- it feels better that way - more real, somehow. 

Echoing notes drift into the room as you end the piece, fingers hesitating to fall from the keys. You open your eyes, flipping the practice pages.

“You play beautifully.”

The soft voice makes you jump, slamming your knees on the underside of the piano. You yelp, immediately rubbing the ache in your knee as you turn, alarmed to see Yoongi leaning against the door. His long hair is swept into his eyes, obscuring his gaze more than usual. He’s still in the pressed, white shirt he wears under his uniform, but gone are the tie and the sweater vest with the prestigious patch. 

Quickly, you murmur a thank you and gather your music, scrambling from the piano bench with intentions of darting past him. Yoongi steps into the middle of the doorway before you can make it halfway across the tile floor, making you dance backward nervously as you glance at him. 

He’s a bit disheveled. He wears the shirt and the pants of your school, but the sleeves are creased like he constantly rolls them and the pants are a bit too long, scuffed at the bottom. You absently wondered why he hasn’t had them hemmed to his size like everyone else you know. 

“Have I made you uncomfortable? I feel bad- you’re always hiding when I’m around.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, chewing the inside of your cheek. His eyes are on you still. “You… no.”

“I… no?”

A small sound of frustration works its way out of you. His lips twitch like he’s about to smirk, but he stops himself. For some reason, it irritates you. Taking a breath you try to meet his eyes for more than five seconds. “Seokjin’s friends aren’t usually very nice. So I stay out of their way.”

Yoongi frowns at that. “Does your brother know they’re not nice to you?”

“I didn’t say they’re not nice to me- they’re not nice in general. I don’t like boys who aren’t nice. Or are loud.”

Yoongi’s brows lift just the slightest. “Am I those things?”

“No,” you admit. “I guess not.”

With a chuckle, he holds out his hand. Its much larger than yours, and you can tell his fingers are callused before you take a few steps forward, placing your small hand in his. His fingers are artful, and delicate in a way that you think a musician or painter should have.

“Min Yoongi,” he introduces himself formally.

You give him your name.

He gives you a gummy smile and you drop his hand, startled by the radiance of it. The urge to bolt past him strikes again, but you’re frozen in your spot, clutching the sheet music. It crinkles, the only sound in the room as you stare at one another. 

“I meant it, by the way.”

“What?”

“You play beautifully.” He offers a wave before he backs out of the room, saying over his shoulder, “I’d like you to play for me sometime.” 

-

You spend more than a few afternoons playing with Yoongi in the music room. He’s far more advance than you are and your styles of playing are entirely different. He seems to never need sheet music, playing things he’s heard only once or mixing sounds that come from inside of him.

There are other days you spend in the music room not playing piano. You lay on the floor next to one another while Seokjin showers or finishes chores in the house, sharing headphones as Yoongi holds his shiny Walkman just right so that his burned CD doesn’t skip, showing off his carefully curated mixtapes. You like the music he shares with you- hip hop and R&B and artists that you’d never hear without his knowledge.

Those sessions with Yoongi inspire your taste in music. You explore other artists, coming up shyly with suggestions and CDs of your own. Yoongi always gives you a soft smile, holding his hand out for the new albums you want to share with. 

The music is between you, and that’s enough.

Sometimes, on special days, Yoongi brings you burned CDs with your name written on them. You buy a Walkman yourself and though you don’t tell him, you listen to the mixtapes he makes you every night to fall asleep.

-

Taehyung flops on your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you swat Jimin away from your underwear drawer. He pouts but you know it’s in jest.

Shoving his hand under your pillow, Taehyung pulls out a spiral notebook, raising his brows at you as he waves it in the air. Shrieking, you bolt for the bed, desperate to snatch it out of his hands. The alarm confirms everything your best friends need to know about the book: they’ve located your diary.

Jimin and Taehyung, driven by their desire to see your deepest, darkest secrets that you hide from them, team up against you, filling the room with screaming as you and Jimin claw at one another at the foot of your bed. Taehyung, cackling like a madman, jumps to his feet and bounces across the large mattress, flips the pages open, and clears his throat.

Everything Taehyung does is performance art. Humiliating you in your own bedroom is as easy to him as delivering elegant lines of Shakespeare. You watch as he takes on a serious face, tilting his chin up delicately, ready to begin his soliloquy. 

“Dear diary,” Taehyung announces in his cool, baritone voice. His voice is no longer cracking, and he’s very proud of it, finding every opportunity he can to speak at louder than necessary volumes. “I don’t know what to do about my feelings- ooooh this is good.”

“Get off me you motherfucker!” You screech, rolling in Jimin’s arms like a wild animal. He has your hands pinned behind your back, your stomach shoved onto the bed as he keeps you in place. “Taehyung, I swear to god I will break your saxophone!”

You manage to work an arm free from Jimin, quick to strike. “You wouldn’t dare,” he answers breezily. He bounces away from your swipe at his ankle. He clears his throat to read further and pauses, eyes widening. “No way.”

“Tae!”

Jimin shoves your head into the bed, scrambling over the top of you. “What?” He demands, reaching for the book in Taehyung’s hands. “What does it say?”

“You’re totally in love with Min Yoongi!” Taehyung accuses, flipping the pages to face you. You go slack, hot shame licking through you like wildfire. You can feel the flush in your face and neck, digging yourself further into the bed to hide your face. “Wow, your older brother’s best friend. How cliche.”

“I’m a little in love with him too,” Jimin admits, sitting on your back, unaware of your mounting embarrassment and distress. “He’s hot. And he has hands shaped by the Gods. Also, have you seen him play- hey, are you okay?” 

No, you’re not okay. You’re mortified as Jimin gets off you, rolling you over to see that your eyes are watery. You immediately cover your face, trying to prevent further shame and teasing. You hate yourself immediately for leaving your diary somewhere someone can find it. Worse, you hate that you wrote about Min fucking Yoongi. 

Of course, your best friends are horrified. It’s a cardinal rule that your brother’s friends are off-limits and the same goes for them. But even if they weren’t, Min Yoongi is absolutely out of your league. He’s sixteen years old and a musical prodigy according to the way they use him as a headliner for all of the holiday concerts, and he’s effortlessly cool.

All the girls in your classes love him. He always wears his uniform just wrong enough that it’s rebellious, but not against code enough to get chastised. Plus, the teachers love their brilliant little piano star. You know he smokes behind the bleachers with some of the older kids. You even heard that he wasn’t a virgin anymore, having lost it to Eunna during the junior prom, though there were also rumors that Yoongi liked both girls and boys. 

Min Yoongi is sixteen and his experiences are completely different from yours. So much so, that the thought of your crush on him seems wildly misplaced and ridiculous.  

Yoongi likes you well enough- you’re his best friend’s kid sister. Occasionally you play video games together when Seokjin is in the shower. Or you play piano together, arguing about classical pieces and the best ways to play them. You tend to play with far more fire compared to Yoongi’s slow melancholy. 

Min Yoongi is sixteen and you’re awkward at thirteen, struggling with the way you hate your braces, the acne spreading on your chin, and parts of your body that just don’t make sense. 

You don’t mean to cry, but the light teasing from Taehyung and Jimin pushes your embarrassment over the limit. You sniff behind your hands, trying to roll back over. Jimin immediately apologizes, his voice soft as he tries to pry your hands away from your face. Taehyung is sitting on the bed, shoving the diary under the pillow as he begs for your forgiveness and tells you to stop crying, that he didn’t mean to laugh at you.

Having them best friends is hard. As much as you want to relate to them, your experiences are different. Your hormones are different. And though they love you more than anything, they forget how mortifying being in a teenage girl’s body and life can be. 

“Why is she crying?” a deep voice startles all of you, drawing your face from your hands as you snap up. Your eyes are red and you can feel the snot that formed with your salty tears. You sniff trying to wipe the grossness away as you stare at Yoongi in the doorway, hands crossed over his firm chest. “You have five seconds to explain before I kick both of your asses.”

“We were just messing around!” Jimin squeaks, voice cracking. That makes you smirk a little. Serves him right. “We teased her about something in her diary and she got upset.”

“That’s not very kind, is it?”

“No,” Taehyung agrees. He’s chewing on his lip nervously, eyes flitting from Yoongi to down the hall where he fears Seokjin is lurking.

Yoongi notices. “Seokjin is downstairs. I came up here to let you know there are pizza rolls in the kitchen.” Both boys begin tripping over one another to get off the bed. Yoongi holds his hand up, stopping both boys from trampling him. “Make her cry again and I will fuck you both up. I don’t need Seokjin as motivation.” 

“Yes sir,” the boys say in unison, bowing slightly. Yoongi steps to the side, letting them fight past him and run down the stairs, feet thundering all the way. You can hear them cursing at one another, making you grin. 

Yoongi is still in your doorway, leaning against the frame, a single hand in his pocket as the other hangs loosely by his side. He has all kinds of rings on his fingers, catching your eye.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, dark eyes flickering. You nod, hating that he’s comforting you but also elated that he felt the need to ask. You wipe your face dry. “Don’t let them get to you. Boys are terrible but they do love you.”

“I know.”

There’s a stretch of silence where you just stare at him. He’s changed a bit over the years. His hair is longer and his ears are pierced, silver hoops glinting in them. He’s taller, though he’s still pretty scrawny compared to Seokjin. The silence isn’t awkward, but it’s accompanied by a nervousness you can’t shake, chewing on your lip as you blink up at him.

Yoongi smirks as he pushes off the door. “Come on, kid. Want to hear a new playlist I’m working on?”

-

Your first kiss is with someone who is not Min Yoongi.

It’s awkward and full of too much tongue. You try not to cringe as you imagine kissing Yoongi wouldn’t be like this. But it doesn’t matter, because Yoongi is in college and you’re stuck sitting in the back of Han’s car, straddling his waist as he thrusts his tongue upwards into your mouth.

It was obvious that the kiss was going to happen. You opted for a drive-in movie, driven by nostalgia that didn’t actually exist for you. You saw them in the movies you watched from the comfort of your theater room and something about the novelty of it drove you to insist on seeing an old-school horror movie at the local theater’s monthly drive-in experience.

Han was more than happy to comply. He even borrowed his dad’s cherry red sports car, flashing his newly earned license. You were excited until Han fucked your mouth with his, making you miss the big reveal at the end of Scream. Which is fine- you’ve seen it a million times anyway. But it’s the principle of the bad first kiss and the way you wish it went a little bit better than annoys you. 

When you get home, you can’t help but want to call your brother, throwing yourself on your bed as you stare at the ceiling.

The Sailor Moon bedroom theme is gone. With the renovations done after Seokjin’s departure to school, your mom wanted a more adult-looking room. Gone are the posters peeling from the wall. No more are the gauzy, pink tapestries hanging on your bed. 

Creme blankets with rows of decorative pillows prop you up while you hit Seokjin’s contact info. Artistic painting courtesy of your mother’s hand hangs around the room, abstract and muted in color. A vanity table stands by the window, the fluffy chair neatly placed. Your friends love your room- the king bed, the chic feeling, the expensive sheets. 

It’s fine, but it isn’t you. 

“How was your date?” Seokjin answers by way of greeting. You can hear soft voices and music in the background. It’s a Friday- you’re sure his new friends are over. He rooms with Yoongi, but they’ve already got themselves a group of friends. “Do I need to beat anyone up?”

“No, but he was a terrible kisser.”

Seokjin’s laughter is roaring, squeaking in a way that makes you smile fondly. It’s far too quiet with just you in the house, and your parents aren’t around enough to fill the spaces that he and Yoongi used to fill.

As if feeling your loneliness, Jimin and Taehyung appear in the doorway, throwing a bag of chips at you. You make a sound, smacking the crinkling bag out of the air as they settle on the foot of your bed, talking in hushed voices as Seokjin’s laughter calms down.

“How would you know if someone was a bad kisser?”

Your face goes red. “Not so loud,” you hiss, heated. “Not everyone needs to hear about it.”

“Please, I don’t think my friends care that my baby sister had a bad kisser.”

You grimace. You know they don’t care. Even though your crush is nothing more than that: a fantasy you like to entertain yourself with when you can’t fall asleep at night. It’s harmless, but the thought of Yoongi knowing you’re having subpar make-out sessions is mildly horrifying. 

As if to rub it in, Taehyung and Jimin both start making kissing sounds, smacking their lips as their eyes roll back in their head. You kick Taehyung in the stomach, making him groan loudly as he rolls away. Jimin scoots further, skirting the radius of your wrath. 

“What was that, Yoongi?” you hear Seokjin ask. Your heart flutters softly as you grip the phone tighter. There is a soft, dulcet voice in the background but you can’t hear what he says. Seokjin chuckles and says to you, “Yoongi said no more kissing boys until you’ve graduated college. They’re all bad until then.”

You smile fondly, looking at your lap. “Tell him I said thank you.”

“Yoongi also said something about a J. Cole album?”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “Ah, yeah. I’ll give him my thoughts when I get a chance. I’ll talk to you later, Jin.”

“Bye, punk.” 

-

“Don’t you have your own house?” you grumble, throwing Yoongi a look of annoyance. 

You’re not really annoyed that he’s staying with your family for Christmas break. He’s dressed in a hoodie that’s too large for him, and baggy sweatpants. His hair is dyed mint green- you hate how flattering it is on him- and he’s lounging in the theater room next to you, throwing his feet across the bottom half of your recliner, footrest extended.

“Mom and stepdad are traveling for the holiday.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

“Nah. Island hopping isn’t my thing.”

You hum as a response, turning your attention back to the screen, flicking your fingers across the iPad that controls the streaming services. “What do you want to watch?” 

Yoongi lifts a shoulder, eyes on his phone as he types. You’re about to make an annoyed sound and pick a drama when he offers, “Sailor Moon.”

“Min Yoongi wants to watch Sailor Moon?”

He’s not looking at you still, but the side of his mouth curves upward. You love it when he does that sideways grin. There’s something cocky and effortless about it, a glint in his eye that he knows something you don’t. You’re sure there are a lot of things that he knows that you don’t. 

“It’s a good show. And it’s one of your favorites.” 

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just put the show on, kid.”

A comfortable silence falls over you. Yoongi stays on his phone for a bit longer before shoving it in his pocket. He takes up space on the armrest between you, propping his elbow up to hold his face. His eyes are unreadable as he watches through the intro, blinking tiredly. 

You eventually settle in, stopping yourself from glancing at him over and over. Instead, you’re content to just watch with him, pulling your hoodie tighter when the air kicks on. Yoongi notices, grabbing the blanket from the other recliner to throw it over you. You mutter a thank you and he nods.

That’s the thing about Yoongi. He does things for people. Slides over crackers to Seokjin when he’s trying to study for something and hasn’t eaten yet. Chucks a hoodie at you when you’re in the backyard trying to coax the fire pit to the flame while shivering. Leaves a pamphlet for a jazz club in your room for Taehyung to see. Slyly suggests Jimin should join the ballet theater down the street. 

Yoongi does these things softly. Silently. With love.

You get through an episode and a half alone with Yoongi. He’s dozing when Seokjin comes in, gently taking up residence on the seat on the other side of Yoongi. Your brother grins, taking out his phone to snap pictures of the sleeping Yoongi with you giving peace signs behind him.

The three of you continue to watch your show, despite one of you being asleep and the other hating Sailor Moon. It’s comfortable and it’s nice, a memory you think might stick with you for a while. 

-

Standing on your tiptoes, you barely manage to hook the fairy lights above your bed. There is very little real estate to decorate your dorm room, but it feels more like you than your bedroom at home ever did. Your mom isn’t thrilled that you’re staying in a dorm, preferring to put you in the same apartment complex as your brother, but you refused. 

The last thing your brother needs in his last year of college is his freshman sister raiding his liquor cabinet. Or rather, raiding Yoongi’s. You know the quieter of the pair has the better taste in alcohol, though you’d never admit that to Seokjin’s face. 

You have no idea what a genuine college experience is supposed to be. You imagine it’s fighting with roommates, rushing around campus trying to find lecture halls and going to parties and vomiting late into the night, or crying over frat boys. At least, that’s what you’ve seen in pop culture. 

So far it isn’t bad. You’re only a few days in but your room is fully decorated. Soft, white sheets and blankets are folded neatly on the bed, the twinkling lights above glowing a soft lavender twined with hanging, fake wisteria. You make the best of the storage places with labeled bins, neatly placed under the bed. In the far corner, your laptop sits closed, a purple diffuser and soft RGB lights casting a purple glow against the window. 

Your roommate sticks her head in, smiling. “Love the wisteria,” Ren chirps. “Are you hungry? I’m craving that ramen place down the street.” 

You shove your hands in your hoodie. “Let’s go.”

Outside the world is starting to cool off. The afternoon light has a golden haze, leaves dancing at your feet as you stick to the sidewalk. Students move to and from the dorms on bikes, skateboards, scooters, and their feet. It’s a good-sized college town for a private, prestigious university. The cars in the parking lot for the freshman who brought them are sleek, luxury symbols hammered to the nose of each vehicle.

Ren complains about her intro to biology class as you walk and you let her. She’s more talkative than you are but you’re always content to nod and listen. You like the way she speaks about everything, full of excitement and genuine joy. 

The ramen shop in question is tucked between the laundromat and a second-hand bookstore teeming with students trying to trade in their new books for used ones in the hopes of scoring one with notes from a student the previous year. 

College students and a few professors cram the ramen shop, filling the little round tables with uneven legs and mismatching chairs. You’re quiet as you stand in line, eyes focused on the menu.

Ren grips your arm savagely, startling you. “Oh my god,” she hisses, nails biting. You make a sound and pry her hand off. “Don’t make it obvious when you look, but the guy over in the back left corner is a TA in my music theory class. He’s insanely hot."

Rolling your eyes, you nod and wait a few seconds before you slide your eyes in the direction your roommate is flushing in. You make a sound of surprise in the back of your throat, fully turning to face your roommate and jerk your thumb in the direction of none other than Min Yoongi. “Yoongi?”

“Yes- you’ve heard of him too?”

Laughter bubbles to your lips. You get disrupted for a minute, moving up in the line. A backpack hits you, making you let out an oof. The boy whirls around, doe-eyes wide as he bows slightly, quickly apologizing, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there. Really, I’m so sorry.”

He’s cute, you note. Black hair hangs loose in his eyes, lips that look soft and pink, a nose that’s a little bit red at the tip as he blushes furiously. You wave him off. “It’s fine.”

He bows quickly again before scrambling toward a table where his friends are no doubt waiting for him. Ren is on you again as you wait to order. “Leilani who sits next to me in class has been trying to ask him out for the entire semester.”

You snort, unsurprised. “Yoongi isn’t much of a people person.”

“You know him?”

“I grew up with him, he's a childhood friend. He's still close with my brother.”

“What?” Ren practically shrieks, making you hush her as you pause to make your order. Her surprise has drawn the attention of quite a few people, including Min Yoongi. “Oh god, he’s coming over here. I’m going to die.”

You hush Ren again, turning to pay for your food. Yoongi is quick, sliding up next to you and extending a credit card to the cashier. The boy who looks roughly your age stares at Yoongi with a blush on his cheeks. God, everyone seems affected by Yoongi. For some reason, you feel sour about it. 

“On me, kid,” Yoongi assures, bumping you with his shoulder. You can smell a hint of his cologne and aftershave- sandalwood and mint, maybe.

He’s dressed in light jeans with rips in the knee, and a black t-shirt that’s too big. His feline gaze is sharp under a low-fitted baseball cap, just a hint of his blue-dyed hair. 

“Really?”

“What?” he chuckles as the cashier takes his payment. “You’re a poor college kid now.”

“I don’t think my mom and dad know what that word means.”

“While that may be true, I’m still treating. How is your first week?” 

You move to the side to let Ren order. She is stuck in her spot, staring at you with wide eyes, face blushing crimson. You try to ignore the fact that she’s looking at you in an entirely new light just because you know Yoongi. The feeling is… uncomfortable, reminding you of the girls in high school who always invited themselves over because Seokjin and Yoongi lived and breathed in your gaming room.

“It’s good.” You gesture to Ren, who finishes her order in a rush. “This is my roommate, Ren.” 

Yoongi nods in her direction and your roommate stares in a daze for a moment before flashing a panicked smile. “Hi. You’re my TA in music theory. You run great sessions in ass- class.”

Folding your lips to stop yourself from laughing and embarrassing Ren further, you address Yoongi, who is trying to hide his smirk before turning to you and saying, “Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” 

“Sure.”

Yoongi ruffles your hair before walking off toward where the kid who hit you with his backpack is sitting, notes pulled out. Ren turns to you as you head to the order pick-up window, claws returning to your arm as she squeaks. “I cannot believe you know him.”

“Why? It’s just Yoongi.”

Except you know that Just Yoongi will always be that person: wanted, mystifying, cool. You shrug it off, determined to make college different. Your lifelong crush had no place here. 

With squared shoulders, you paved the way to a table on the opposite side of the establishment from Just Yoongi. 

-

Jimin is small, but he is heavy. You knew this before trying to drag him up the stairs of the frat house to the bathroom someone directed you to. He’s mumbling, a giggling mess as he tucks his head further into your shoulder, feet almost useless as the two of you stumble along the top of the stairs. Taehyung is nowhere in sight or you’d be nominating him to help with the very drunk Jimin who has already puked down the kitchen sink once.

“You suck so much,” you growl, making it into the second-floor hallway. Most of the doors reveal trashed bedrooms. You finally get to the last door, which you’re pretty sure is the bathroom. You try the handle and find that it’s locked. 

“Fuck off!” A muffled, male voice calls through the door. A female giggle follows shortly after. 

Jimin sways on his feet, groaning and holding his stomach. He gags a little. You wince, brushing the sweaty hair from his face, murmuring for him to hold on a little longer. You know he didn’t mean to get so drunk, but the jello shots downstairs are unusually lethal.

You bang on the door, putting all the force you can muster while holding Jimin behind it. “Open the fucking door! I don’t care if your dick is down her throat, my friend is puking!”

“Tough shit!”

The muffled voices enrage you. The girl moans loudly. You can’t hear what exactly they’re doing, but it isn’t difficult to imagine. Your arm begins to cramp with Jimin’s weight. You haul him up a little more, the movement jostling. He whimpers slightly, fingers clutching your arm hard enough to bruise. 

“I’m gonna puke,” he whispers, eyes wide and horrified.

You kick the door. Hard. It shutters, making the people behind it yelp. There’s some shuffling and the lock flips. You muster yourself for a fight, anger surging through you like a mounting wave. You hate frat parties to begin with- but Taehyung and Jimin really wanted to go. So you did. While it did turn out somewhat fun- especially making a few friends- the night is taking a turn with Jimin vomiting and Taehyung vanishing. 

With a deep breath, you prepare to start screaming at the asshole behind the door when it rips open. You blink in surprise instead. Yoongi blinks his eyes owlishly at you. He’s in an army-green t-shirt and jean jacket, paired with ripped jeans. He has a hat on, twisted backward. Something glistens on his mouth and your stomach and lip curl when you see the girl behind him fixing her skirt.

“Can you eat pussy somewhere else?” You snap, shoving by Yoongi with Jimin in your arms. You try to ignore the sudden scent of sandalwood, a smell you’ve always associated with Yoongi.

It’s a tight fit in the bathroom when they don’t move. The girl squeals a bit as Jimin gags, dodging past you to the hall. Yoongi is still pressed against the door frame, staring at you with a now unreadable expression. “Bye, Yoongi.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he mutters to the girl. She protests lightly but he turns his back on her, coming into the room as Jimin retches in the ceramic bowl. “I’m really sorry.”

“For what? Being an ass?”

“Well yeah, and…”

“I don’t care what you do with your mouth,” you offer, running your fingers softly through Jimin’s hair. You lean upward, grabbing toilet paper to offer him. He wipes his mouth and groans, flushing the toilet but making no move to leave. “Can you give us some privacy? I don’t think he needs an audience.”

“Do you want-”

“I can take care of him, Yoongi.” It comes out harsher than you mean it. He stands silent in the doorway, eyes dark. He has the decency to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m an adult too, you know,” you add. You don’t know why this is important to establish. “Sex doesn’t freak me out.”

His laugh is sheepish. “Okay. You’re all right, Chim?”

“Yeah,” Jimin croaks, thrusting a shaky thumbs up into the air. “Never been better, man.”

Yoongi is still hesitating at the door as Jimin pukes again. You’re behind him, rubbing his back and murmuring that it’s going to be okay. “Yoongi, please leave unless you want to get him a glass of water.”

“Water- yeah. Got it.”

Yoongi shuts the door, leaving you to rub Jimin’s back. The boy lifts his head, skin pale as he glances at you. “Dare I say that he seemed embarrassed to be caught by you?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

He grunts. “Just saying. He didn’t seem to care that I was here.”

You smile and pat Jimin’s back. “Don't start down the Yoongi-crush path. That was a crush that died a long time ago.” 

If Jimin knows you’re lying, he says nothing, turning to retch again instead.

-

Laying on the couch in the living room of your dorm with your small group of friends becomes the best way to spend Sundays. Taehyung always remembers to bring his air mattress, blowing it up to place it perfectly at the foot of the couch. He’s currently curled next to a slumbering Jungkook- ironically, the same boy who hit you with his backpack all those months ago at the start of the semester. Taehyung snores lightly as you run your fingers through his hair. Ren and Jimin are glued to the TV screen, watching as Stu stabs Billy in Sydney’s kitchen.

“Who knew Shaggy was such a good actor?” Ren whispers, watching as they taunt Sydney. 

“Matthew Lillard?” You whisper, drawing Jungkook’s attention as he shifts, looking up at you through his lashes. “That’s insulting. He’s amazing in everything he’s in.”

“Shut up,” Jimin growls. “This is the best part.”

Your group is small, but they’re yours. You laugh when Jungkook flinches, waking up Taehyung who whines and nuzzles into your hand. Jimin and Taehyung have accepted Ren and Jungkook into the fold just as easily as you have. Though you’re all freshmen, Jungkook is a year younger, having graduated early from an advanced program. Intelligent, but dangerously shy. 

There’s no older brother to loom over you here. No Yoongi to distract anyone. It’s just your friends and you love them. 

But peace doesn’t last forever. Your phone rings on more than one occasion, making Taehyung pout and curse softly at you when you finally pull your hand from his hair. It’s Yoongi calling you. You can’t remember the last time he called, and he’s called four times in a row now.

Peeling yourself off the couch, you walk to your dorm room, shutting the door softly as you swipe his name to call him back. He answers after a few rings, voice far too loud as he shouts, “Hello?”

“You called? Several times?”

“Look,” he slurs into the phone. “I’m going to be honest, Jin and I are fucked drunk right now at Union, and Jin’s phone is dead and he has the Uber app.”

“Why don’t you have it?”

“I… got banned.”

You sit on your bed, frowning. You can hear street noise in the background. Union is a popular strip of bars by the college, filled with people stumbling in and out all hours of the night when the semester is in full swing. You can hear your brother complaining in the background to give him the phone, but Yoongi is persistent.

“I’m really sorry,” he insists, voice growing a shade softer. “Jin said-”

“Yeah, I’ll come get you,” you snap. Your voice is harsher than you mean it to be. “Give me ten.”

“Thanks, sweet girl.”

You frown. Sweet girl, not kid. That’s a new one. “Yeah.”

Hanging up the phone, you sit in silence for a few moments. Your heart doesn’t jump at the chance to pick up a drunk Yoongi. In fact, there is something a little bitter there, like you’re angry that they thought of you. That you’re just the designated driver. You’re not… well you’re not Yoongi’s girlfriend he can count on.

Swallowing your childish thoughts, you grab your keys and excuse yourself, announcing that Seokjin and Yoongi are drunk and in need of saving. Jungkook at least has the courtesy to insist to go with you, promising that it’ll be safer to have another set of eyes and hands.

It turns out being lucky Jungkook goes with you. Seokjin is drunker than Yoongi let on as he struggles under your brother’s weight as he helps him into the back of the car. Jungkook ends up in the back with Seokjin, Yoongi kicking the freshman out of shotgun. Something about getting carsick when he’s been drinking. You ask if that’s why he’s banned from using Uber and notice that he goes redder than his already-flushed face is, making a noise that isn’t a yes or a no.

The car ride isn’t quiet. Seokjin is whining about a Black Widow look-alike that shot him down at the bar, which launches him and Jungkook into a debate about the Avengers. Your temper is fraying as you turn onto a backroad, not wanting to use the freeway to get to Seokjin and Yoongi’s shared apartment late at night with drunks in the car.

Jungkook insulting Seokjin’s preference for the strongest Avenger is mounting in volume. You grip the steering wheel, knuckles going white as you drive. Yoongi touches the Bluetooth in your car, going through the motions silently as he turns on a familiar song. You glance at him from the corner of your eyes and you see his dark gaze directed at you, lips curving softly in a knowing smile.

A smile that says gotcha.

Laidback beats introduce LL Cool J’s Hey Lover, your fingers letting up to drum lightly. You bop your head to the song despite the bickering men in the back.

“Always a fan of this song,” Yoongi murmurs, settling back into the seat, dropping his phone in his lap to close his eyes. You can’t help but notice that someone’s name keeps appearing on his texts multiple times in a row. “Our taste in music is what makes us get along.”

You snort. “Who says we get along?”

“Please. Don’t devalue our friendship like that. We’ve been sharing playlists for how many years? I even used to make you mixtapes.”

“You’re Seokjin’s best friend,” you remind him. “I’m just the kid sister.”

Yoongi opens his eyes at that, dark brows frowning under the brim of his hat, which is pulled low to shadow his face. He opens his mouth, verging on a scowl to say something when you pull into their apartment complex, rolling the window down at the security gate to swipe the key card your mother gave you if you ever needed access to Seokjin’s apartment.

Whatever Yoongi is about to say dies upon arrival at their apartment.

“Your luxury car service is over,” You deadpan, putting the car in park. “It does not include escort services up the stairs.”

Seokjin giggles. “Escort services.”

“Jin, please. I’m your sister.”

“Jungkookie would make a great escort. Look at the beefy bunny-”

“Jin! Out!”

“Yah woman, all right. Love you.”

You nod. “You too.”

Yoongi hesitates as Jungkook all but shoves Seokjin out of the car. He has the door open and he’s half-in, half-out, lips parted as he licks them. You can smell the enchanting sandalwood cologne, making you woozy. He looks like he wants to say something and for a split moment, you’re staring at him, another slow hip-hop song in the background. It’s like you’re sitting in the music room again sharing playlists.

“Night,” you offer. The moment passes and the look in Yoongi’s eyes is lost as he gives you a half-smile.

“Night.”

-

You ring in the New Year properly drunk. The room is spinning as you cling to Ren, making your way upstairs in someone’s luxury estate a couple of minutes outside of the town proper. Namjoon- that’s his name. He’s a year older and incredibly cute, hair brown and slicked back to reveal endearing eyes and heart-wrenching dimples. He’s friends with Yoongi, both sharing a talent for mixing songs and writing lyrics together in the small office space in Yoongi and Seokjin’s apartment. They could already have their music produced with the money their parents have- but they seem determined to make their way.

So the money goes on ridiculous parties for New Year, filled with what feels like every student in your year, crammed wall-to-wall. Your steps crunch on empty red cups, giggling as you haul Ren down the carpeted hall. She’s been complaining about having to pee for almost thirty minutes and with the lazy smile on her face and the scarlet flush in her neck and cheeks, there’s a high probability she’s going to pee herself if she doesn’t go.

Your dress is riding up your mid-thigh, short enough to make Seokjin scream when he saw you earlier, convinced all of his friends were going to try and steal you away and ravish you. The thing is: they know better. And you do too. 

Arms twined, the two of you make it to the bathroom. There’s no line outside. There are two bathrooms downstairs with lines, but as Seokjin’s sister, you’re granted access to the second floor of the house, closely guarded by Namjoon’s best friend, Hoseok. Hoseok is beyond nice and smiling, but he’s lethal when it comes to who he lets upstairs from what you could tell.

You try the handle and it doesn’t give, the lock stuck. You frown and try the handle again. There’s shuffling for a minute as Ren whines, pounding on the door that she’s going to piss herself if the person doesn’t hurry up.

“Find another bathroom,” the voice grunts behind. There are murmurs and the world tilts.

Déjà vu hits you and you knock on the door louder. The voice yells to ask Hobi- not Hoseok- for another bathroom location. Ren is crossing her legs, bent in half as whoever is on the other side of the door continues their business. 

This scenario is too similar and on instinct you scream, “Min Yoongi, is that you fucking around in a bathroom again?”

Ren snaps upward, bladder momentarily forgotten. She looks at you like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and mouth popped open. You ignore her for a moment as the lock switches and the door cracks open, revealing Yoongi in the sliver of the door, his fucked-out eyes peering between the two of you.

“Dude, do you strictly do oral in bathrooms? Didn’t Tae catch you blowing Anderson like three weeks ago?” You snap, placing your hand on the door to push. He wedges his foot against the door, stopping you from going further. You raise your brows at his opposition. “Get a room. Ren is about to piss herself.”

“Hey,” Ren growls softly, embarrassed.

He’s flushed all over. You can hear shuffling again. “Can you give me a second, please?”

“Dude, hurry. It’s a bathroom!”

Something flashes in his eyes. He nods once and shuts the door. Ren is dancing from foot to foot and you squeeze her hand, trying to encourage her to hold on. When the door unlocks again, Yoongi squeezes out, holding the hand of a very beautiful, mortified boy behind him. You cast him an apologetic look, mouth sorry at him as you exchange places.

Yoongi murmurs something as Ren dashes for the toilet. The bathroom is only a half-bath, but it’s extravagant with wide space, a large mirror, and an entire cabinet dedicated to freshening up.

“Hey,” you flinch, not realizing that you’re teetering near the door while Ren shamelessly pees with the door wide open. Yoongi is in the hall, staring at you. “Sorry. Again.”

You shrug. “Maybe go to a bedroom, though?”

“Namjoon hates when I fuck in his room.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe get an Uber, then - oh wait, you’re banned!"

Yoongi’s mouth twitches at the corner. “Maybe. See you around?”

“Sure.”

Quietly, Yoongi shuts the door behind him. You turn back to Ren who is fighting to get her underwear back up. You burst into laughter at the scene and she flicks you off before managing to successfully dress herself.

“You guys have weird tension,” she announces. “Like weird tension.”

“Not really. But this is the second time I've caught him giving head to someone so that's a little weird, I guess.”

Ren washes her hands and shrugs. “I guess. Still. He seemed… really guilty.”

“Hurry up,” you sigh, opening the door. “I’m going to go kiss Taehyung at midnight and freak him out.”

-

THREE YEARS LATER

A loud chime plays over the intercom system at the airport, a woman’s voice reminding people not to leave bags unattended and to report any suspicious activity. You hug your backpack closer, eyes looking up at the digital screens as you walk by, slowing to check for the third time which baggage claim carousel to find your bags. Airports make you nervous and you’re always convinced you’re going to lose your bags, despite the airline app on your phone confirming they were unloaded from the plane.

People from your flight surge in the same direction as you, the flow of traffic filled with the roll of suitcases, loud phone calls announcing they landed, and tired eyes. There are a lot of young people in the crowd. You recognize the designer bags and the glinting watches hidden under jean jackets. 

You’re dressed in an oversized hoodie and leggings, a nondescript hat low on your head to hide that you definitely didn’t wash your hair before heading to the airport earlier that morning. It doesn’t matter- Taehyung and Jimin aren’t going to care that you smell like airplane air and look like you didn’t sleep. They’ll just be happy that you’re there for the long weekend ahead.

A loud screech draws your attention to carousel four. You grin, seeing Taehyung’s head above the rest. He rushes at you, making people swerve out of his way and you laugh loudly as you throw open your arms, letting him crash into you and scoop you off of your feet, spinning you as he holds you to his chest.

“Holy fuck, you’re here in the flesh!” Taehyung’s deep baritone is so much softer in person than on FaceTime. Gone is the awkward boy from high school and college. You’re in the arms of a more refined version of him, a playful glint in his eyes. “I swear I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”

“Your imagination isn’t nearly skilled enough to conjure my magnificence,” you insist.

It’s nonsense, of course. Taehyung is one of the most skilled artists in popular culture, with new galleries, and exhibits popping up in culturally celebrated spaces, showcasing his unique style and modern skill. 

“Move!” Jimin shoves Taehyung to the side, throwing himself at you. Laughter spills out of you. Jimin is warm, his sweater soft and expensive as he sways you back and forth, tucking your head against him. He smells like orange blossom, your eyes fluttering shut as his presence chases away the flight anxiety. “Fuck, I am so happy to see you.”

“It’s really good to see you,” you insist. He squeezes you a little tighter. You feel the emotion behind it.

After spending the majority of your life with them, you had taken a job straight out of college working for a massive gaming company on the other side of the country. In a stroke of luck, Jungkook worked for the same company, though your roommate flew in a day earlier for the reunion trip to the massive Park cabin.

Ccabin isn’t the right word for the house that the Park’s have owned for generations, though that’s what you’ve always called it. The luxurious getaway property is one of many owned by the Park family, a location that became a staple for a long weekend trip in the Fall. The tradition mostly kept up through college, but in the last two years, you were entirely unable to get away from your managerial duties at work. It was especially lucky you were able to get away this year, finally earning the promotion you’d been fighting for.

Mountains stretch in the distance as you walk outside, Taehyung carrying your suitcase and Jimin carrying your backpack. The evening is cooling off quickly, wind picking up and cooling the sweat on the back of your neck.

Everyone who is anyone with money in your hometown owns land here. You know you’ll see people from high school- even a few from college- packing the hipster bars and crowding Acorn Street, filled with new breweries and food vendors. Every night there’s a planned pregame before heading out to the bars. Jimin can hardly contain his excitement reminding you that the Park residence is the location for the end-of-weekend party, making you wince.

“What?” Jimin asked, turning around from the passenger seat. “It’s finally my year to shine.”

“I haven’t had to deal with that monster of a crowd in two years,” you groan. “The last time I was here and we went to Wendy’s for it, I was so drunk I ended up falling asleep while Rian went down on me.”

Taehyung’s laughter is so loud that you cover your face in shame, sinking lower into the seat. “Oh my god, I remember that! I think Rian is here this year if you want to give it another go.”

“There’s a reason I fell asleep, Tae.”

“Poor guy has the finest education his parents can buy and still hasn’t learned to eat pussy,” Jimin snickers, turning back around to face the front. He kicks his shoes up on the dash, ignoring Taehyung’s thunderous glare. “We’re having a small celebration for your arrival today since you’re the last one.”

“Really? I’m exhausted.”

“Don’t care. You, Jungkookie, and Ren were all late to the pack. We’ve been here for three days already.”

“Debauching, I’m sure. Jin said you broke Hobi’s golf club, Tae.”

He winces. “I already ordered a new one, okay? It wasn’t my fault the lady on the beer cart was giving me free beers.” Jimin muttered something under his breath and Taehyung grinned. “And maybe she blew me a little afterward but whatever.”

“Please,” you beg, holding up your hand. “Spare me.”

“Yeah, come on, Tae. She’s walked in on Yoongi enough times, spare her.”

The name sparks something in you but you laugh off Jimin’s comment. He isn’t facing you, but you can see his cheeks swell with his smile, and something tells you that he’s got his half-moon eyes and shit-eating expression on. You steel yourself, having a sense of what’s coming.

“Speaking of- when is the last time you spoke to Yoongi?” Jimin asks, voice far too high-pitched to be conversational.

“I texted him on his birthday and he thanked me. We’re both pretty busy so besides when Jin occasionally mentions him, I don’t hear much about Yoongi.”

“He’s here, you know.”

You smile. “That’s great, I know Jin was hoping he would make it, being busy with all of the music and stuff. They haven’t seen each other in a few weeks. Jin doesn’t say so, but I think he gets depressed without Yoongi around.”

“Yeah great, how do you feel about it?” Jimin is turned in his seat again, peering at you. You were right about the shit-eating grin and squinted eyes. Taehyung’s intense gaze burns in the rearview.

“I just told you, I’m happy he’s coming. He deserves some downtime with his friends.”

“Going downtime?”

Your glance bounces between them, shrugging. “I guess so? No shortage of women and men here.”

“Either you’ve picked up excellent acting skills or your famed childhood crush really has died.”

Your expression is deadpan. It seems it doesn’t matter that you dated other people through college, that Yoongi also dated through college and even had a long-term relationship. Your friends are still obsessed with your childhood crush on Min Yoongi.

And you hate it.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with this idea of Yoongi and I?”

“I guess I just always had hope,” Jimin sighs, settling back into his seat. “You guys were always available at different times. You know Tae and I always thought maybe- just maybe- it would work out.”

“This is true.” Taehyung pulls off the highway and heads towards the mountains. “Who doesn’t love a good childhood friends-to-lovers story?”

“Cliché,” you offer, sliding over to look out the window. Whitecaps are on the mountains, even in summer. “And even if that did ever happen, Jin would hate it. I remember Yoongi complimented me for prom once and Jin went red in the face thinking it was inappropriate.”

“That’s what would have made it spicy,” Jimin whines. “Whatever. There are drinks and many, many reunions in the future.”

“Here, here,” you murmur.

-

The Park’s cabin is a towering three-story home built from wood and stone, with massive windows aglow with golden light. The round driveway is filled with rental cars, lined neatly in front of the stone walkway that leads to heavy, wooden double doors.

Evergreens stretch on either side of the cabin. The lake peaks around from the west side of the property, the dock extending into the cool, black surface reflecting the evening sun. Boats and jets skies bob gently in the water.

Other porch lights, fire pits, and glowing windows can be seen through the boughs in the trees in the distance, vacationers enjoying the the weekend in their own warm homes. 

Before you can even get out of the car, there is a line of people pouring from the house, your brother leading them. There’s a towel still wrapped around his shoulders and mint scent fresh on his skin when you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his strong middle and squeezing hard. 

Seokjin feels like home. His arms squeeze you and you feel him kiss the top of your head. “Hi, kiddo.”

“I missed you,” you admit freely. Letting go, you back up to look at him in-person for the first time in almost a year. “You look good, Jin. Working out?”

He smiled. “The muscle bunny was beating my ass in the gym. That’s why dumb and dumber picked you up.”

“And,” Namjoon emphasizes as Seokjin steps back to let the other man hug you. “Because Taehyung nearly cried when he found out you didn’t arrive with Jungkook.”

“I did not,” Taehyung muttered, hand still resting on your suitcase. “I mean… maybe I was upset. I thought you were just lying about getting here late to surprise us.”

You pinch him as you let go of Namjoon, giving Taehyung a wink. “It’s okay, Tae. I would have cried too.”

The hellos feel so much better than you imagined. It’s easy to forget how much people mean to you between your corporate job and trying to get house chores done on the weekend. Keeping contact when you’re so far away is much harder than you imagined. 

Seeing everyone again gives you a tightness in your throat you didn’t expect, especially when Jimin sniffs a little behind you. You can’t help but laugh, tugging his hand with yours as you walk up the short stairs leading to the door, where your last welcomer leans against the door frame, arms crossed and a smile on his face.

Min Yoongi is as beautiful as the first day you met him. He’s different, of course. His hair is dyed blonde, one of your favorite colors on him. He has more earrings now, and you see the black ink of the full-arm tattoo that’s hidden under his shirt sleeve. 

“Hi, kid.”

“Hi,” you murmur, grinning at him as he pushes off the door, cool as he always was. He opens his arms and you slip into them easily, closing your eyes briefly and- oh. He smells like the same sandalwood as he always did, your head swimming. “It’s nice to see you,” you mumble into his chest. His laughter vibrates through your body and soul, making your nerves a live wire. “Your hair is blonde again.”

You separate and you hardly notice that there’s an audience behind you, Taehyung, Jimin, and Ren watching with muted interest.

“Yeah, that was always your favorite, huh?”

You raise your brows. You didn’t recall telling him that fact, but instead of disputing it, you gesture to follow Seokjin inside as he hollers for Yoongi to help him in the kitchen. You both chuckle, slipping through the door and the extravagant foyer of the home.

It looks so much like you remember, a mix of horrible western style and a modern take on cabin living. You’re just grateful that the antlers using the macabre chandelier are fake and that the cowhide rugs are also synthetic.

“You gonna’ shower before dinner?” You blink, looking back at Yoongi as he stops on his way toward the kitchen.

“Are you saying I smell bad?”

He grins. “No, I’m saying I’ll make sure they don’t try to start without you.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“No problem, kid.”

-

Dinner is as loud and obnoxious as you expect it to be with twelve people at the table. Namjoon’s sort-of girlfriend was invited to the trip, looking anxious and shy as she keeps glancing down at her lap, trying to keep up with everyone around the table. Hoseok’s current roommate, Mako, and his sister Suri are also in attendance, two familiar faces you’re happy to see join your large party for the weekend. 

You make an effort to include Lydia- Namjoon’s basically-girlfriend. She’s polite and you can tell she’s overwhelmed, so you take special care to explain stories or push the topic in directions she can contribute. You can tell she’s grateful, directly whispered questions your way as you clarify about the current argument Jimin and Taehyung are having about being gluten free. 

It’s nearly impossible to ignore the pair of cat-eyes watching you from across the table. Almost automatically, you find yourself glance in Yoongi’s direction, as though to confirm that he’s really there and to see if he really is looking at you as much as it feels like he is. 

Had you still been in high school, you’d delude yourself into reading into it. His gaze is darker, perhaps leaning toward curious, like he’s trying to figure something out. The old you would grab that fact and hold onto it until it made your hands bloody. Adult you lets it go, volunteering to help Jungkook wash the dishes.

It’s a routine you have at home, a practiced tandem of washing and drying. With the noise muted from the rush of the faucet and Jungkook’s humming, it’s easy to forget where you are. 

“Yoongi was staring at you hardcore during dinner,” Jungkook whispers, glancing around to make sure you’re alone. You spare him a single glance as you hold your hand out for the clean, wet plate in his hands. “Not saying it means anything- I know you hate when people imply that. Just something I noticed.”

“Yeah, it was a little weird.”

“Jin didn’t seem to notice. He was kind of eye-fucking whats-her-name.”

“Suri. Please learn her name instead of making her feel weird all weekend by calling her different names. You already called Lydia Lisa and Leilah.”

He whines and pouts a bit. “You know how I am with new people.”

You do. So you bump your hips with his and give him a reassuring smile. “I do, which is why you have me.”

Someone clears their throat in the doorway. You both turn to look over your shoulder. Your facial expression doesn’t change when you see Yoongi hesitating in the doorway. He scratches the tip of his nose, glancing between you and Jungkook. It strikes you that he looks awkward, which is rare. 

“Hey,” you call casually, turning back to drying. Jungkook is staring at Yoongi like he’s been caught red-handed. You elbow him lightly and he goes back to furiously scrubbing dishes. 

“Jimin invited people over they’ll be here around ten if you want to change.”

After your shower, you changed into leggings and a massive gaming shirt from your company. “Wow, insulting me again, Min? Is this outfit not up to par?”

His chuckle is soft. “I’ve never said a mean thing about you in your life, kid.”

“You almost made me cry when you said that liking Drake was overrated.”

“For you it is. I raised you better than that.”

Yoongi gives a final smile before wandering back toward the noise of the dining room. You turn back to helping Jungkook, grateful that he says nothing. All you can think about is the way your mind sticks to that word: raised. 

Seokjin did practically raise you while your parents were jetting around the world. You supposed that maybe Yoongi did help along the way.

-

Time has made you forget what a small get-together looks like for Jimin. There are upwards of thirty people filling his house, Hoseok at an impromptu DJ station while Taehyung is standing on a giant speaker, screaming the lyrics to a Big Sean song that sounds familiar.

People cover the surfaces of the massive living room. The living room is built like an atrium, the ceiling all the way on the third story with the balconies to the second and third floors overlooking the space. Couches, end tables, and a massive coffee table contain all of the people Jimin has invited, backed by floor-to-ceiling windows showing the large, wooden deck.

The noise echoes all the way up to the second floor as you jog down the stairs lightly, beer already in hand. Ren, Lydia, and Suri are behind you, joined forces of feminine power among the male residents of the house for the weekend, who have already pissed of one or two of your group.

You go with black pants and an equally black tucked-in t-shirt, your belt glinting with a single, gold chain to match the gold earrings and rings on your fingers. Your boots thud when you jump over the last stair and land in front of Jungkook, looking him up and down with a frown.

“God, living together has made us gross,” you greet, realizing that you dressed painfully similar. As adults, you’re glad to see there are no cups crushed all over the place or bottles filling every surface. “I thought Jimin said a small crowd.”

“For Jimin? This is small.”

You note that Jungkook is chewing on his already-chapped lips. From the condensation on his beer, you surmise he’s been nursing it for a while. You touch his elbow lightly, drawing his owlish eyes from the crowd back to you. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just a lot more people than I’m used to being around.”

“Don’t you usually have like twenty-thousand viewers when you stream?”

The tip of his nose and cheeks go pink. “It’s different.”

“I know, I’m just teasing you. Want to stick by me for a while?”

He nods and follows you toward the kitchen where you hope Seokjin has laid out snacks.

Living with Jungkook for the last two years has made you closer than ever. He is wildly different from the boy who accidentally smacked you with his backpack all those years ago. You rotate through the party together, stopping to say hello to people you’re familiar with. Answering the same questions gets tiring: where have you been, what do you do, it’s nice to see you, whatever happened to you.

Everyone knows Jungkook. He has a strong social media presence online, working as a game developer and tester for your company - though they are leaning toward making him a dedicated personality and streamer.

Despite that, he has a naturally shy disposition, relying on you to make an excuse when you can sense he’s done with the conversation. You see the signs when he’s done, glazed-over eyes, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt, making less and less eye contact. 

You lose Jungkook after an hour or so to Jimin and Taehyung, who promise to keep an eye on him. You relent because you’re looser and the drinks have made you warmer, friendlier. You sit on the couch next to Suri, who is engaged in conversation with Seokjin. You look for an opening to join in, but they’re so engrossed that you find yourself hovering awkwardly on the outskirt of their interaction. 

After a few minutes, the anxiety starts to nip at you. There are so many faces and people around, all people that you don’t know well enough to join a conversation with. 

Scooting from the couch, you lurk around the room in hopes of finding Ren. She’s nowhere among the crowd that has grown in size, making you waver. Trailing to the kitchen, you take up residence by sitting in the corner of the large countertop where you choose to people watch.

For the first time that night, you see Yoongi. He slinks into the kitchen, freshly showered in a plain, white t-shirt and jeans, hat fitted low. You watch him as he draws the attention of the room, people surging to greet him and ask about the upcoming album he’s working on, another mini-celebrity among the crowd. 

Watching Yoongi interact with others is entertaining. He’s genuine, offering kind smiles and asking people specific questions that make them feel heard, makes them feel remembered. But he’s also shy, ducking his head down to shy away from questions or murmuring soft answers. It makes you smile.

As if he senses you, Yoongi’s eyes drag over Lin’s head. You offer him a smile and he responds in kind, full teeth and bright eyed. He turns his attention back to Lin- touches her arm and says something with an apologetic smile- before heading toward you, popping the fridge open and grabbing a beer on the way.

“I think you ruined Lin’s night,” you whisper when Yoongi leans against the counter next to you. You’re not close enough to touch but you feel the heat from his arm as he pops the top on his drink. He looks good- he always does. “She kind of looks heartbroken.”

“She made things awkward,” Yoongi admits, taking a sip. “She’s a really nice girl, but she immediately started asking me about how I was doing since breaking up with Wen.”

“Ooof. Sorry, buddy.”

He shrugs. “People like the idea of a heartbroken musician. It was more than six months ago- I’m over it.” He swigs his beer, looking out at the crowd, visible just outside the kitchen door. “Why are you hiding in the kitchen?”

“Why don’t you tell me where you’ve been hiding.” You pause and make a face. “Unless it’s in a bathroom with a-”

“No!” he laughs, covering his face. “I don’t do that anymore. I’ve finally learned the appreciation for bedrooms.”

“About time.”

“I was hiding on the third-story porch. It’s really nice out.” He pauses. “Wanna go out there? No one else is there and it’s peaceful.”

You slide from the counter, walk over to the fridge and pull out a case of beer. You jerk your head to the stairs. “You had me at ‘no one else is there.’”

Yoongi leads you to one of the bedrooms on the third floor. It has a queen bed and an ensuite bathroom. From the shoes by the door and items in the room, you realize that Yoongi has capitalized on getting one of the bedrooms to himself. 

The sliding glass door leads to a private balcony with a large outdoor couch. He slides the glass door open. It rattles like your nerves as it slides on the track. He gestures for you to come out and sit. You follow his lead, putting the pack of beer on the table in front of the couch and plopping yourself down. To steady your hands, you focus on opening the box, handing him a beer as he sits down, sighing.

“Thanks, felt like I was going to suffocate in there.”

“Different from performing your music?”

He laughs. “World of a difference. One pays me.”

You shove him lightly and roll your eyes. 

The anxiety fades next to Yoongi. You lean back and look up at the sky. This far out of town, the stars are in the thousands, blinking lights that hypnotize you for a while. You’re almost halfway done with your beer when Yoongi says, “I’m happy you’re here.”

“I needed a break,” you admit, eyes drawing from the stars to land on him. His face is shadowed by his hat, but you can make out the intensity of his eyes as he looks at you, head laying on the back of the couch. “It’s hard not to get lost in a new job. I want to perform well, you know?”

“I’m sure you do. Jungkook says you were promoted to senior manager already. That’s not coming from nowhere.”

You hum in agreement, sipping your drink. “Seokjin is proud of you.” That makes you smile. He leans and bumps your shoulder. “I’m impressed too.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve come a long way from the shy, blushing girl who kicked me out of bathrooms at every party.” He seemed thoughtful, a smile touching his lips. You loved his smile so much. It was the same, tilted one you knew. “Even if you’re up here hiding with me.”

It’s easy with Yoongi. The earlier nervousness is gone entirely as you sit outside and talk about anything and everything. He indulges you when you ask to examine his tattoo, letting your fingers map out the lines of the artwork. His skin is smooth and warm, and you find yourself drifting closer.

Your thighs are pressed against his and you feel his breath on your arm as he rotates your bicep, examining the small tattoo on your soft, inner bicep, Sailor Moon peering at him. Your head is spinning. You smell his cologne and his touch is so soft, the scratch of his fingers against your skin making you drunker than the beer.

It’s difficult to focus this close to him. His laugh is throaty and you feel like the sky above is spinning. You shiver when he runs his fingers down your arm to your wrist, flipping your hand over to reveal your palm.

“You always had hands made to play the piano.” His voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper. You lift your eyes up to him, but he’s not looking at you. His gaze seems distant as his nimble fingers trace lines on your palm. It feels like his brushing his fingers against the most intimate parts of you and you shiver. “Are you cold?”

You nod. You’re not cold but you’re suffocating at his nearness. It feels different this time, the closeness between the two of you and suddenly you feel sweat on your neck, hands trembling lightly at how much you realize that you want to lean into him. 

Suddenly, you’re the same nervous eleven-year-old who desperately wanted the attention of her brother’s best friend.

Yoongi gets up an vanishes into his room. Alone, you rub your palms on your thighs, taking in deep breaths to try and level your nerves. Why are you so off kilter? He comes back out with the comforter from the bed and you give him a grateful smile. You don’t expect him to drape it over both of you and drag you toward him. 

Air gets stuck in your lungs as he tucks you to his side, letting out a sound that indicates he’s cold. His cheeks are flushed from drinking and the stint of Autumn air, rosy and glistening and beautiful as always.

“You’re so flushed, drunky,” you tease, looking up at him. He tries to fight a smile and fails, earning further teasing from you. You lean into him further, trying to pinch his cheeks but he’s quick to lean away from you, fighting you off. “Your cheeks are so cute.”

“I am not cute!” he disagrees. He drags you so that you’re laying across his lap, face up and hands pinned to your stomach where he holds them in a vice grip. “I am a hip hop artist and I make cool songs and I am very cool. I’m not cute.”

“You said 'cool' twice,” you whine.

You’re closer than before, laying in his lap as he smiles down at you, hands still on your wrists. You hum, making yourself comfortable, trying to ignore the lurch in your stomach and the hardness of his thighs. “You are also comfy,” you admit, eyes fluttering slightly.

You have no idea how long you’ve been outside but you’re a little tired and your head is still swimming with Yoongi. He laughs and leans back, settling with you there. “You’re warm,” he murmurs, eyes shutting. 

It’s quiet for a long time. You drift a little, nestle in Yoongi’s lap, a little buzzed on him and the alcohol. The noise of the party is far away, crickets singing outside as you lay there, toeing the edge of sleep. 

“What’s your favorite thing about your new city?” Yoongi mumbles, voice deep and drowsy.

Sighing, you think about it. Yoongi starts to trace patterns on your arm lightly. The touch of his fingers sends a jolt of electricity to you, zapping away your drowsiness. Now, you’re alert and a little stiff in his lap. If he notices, he says nothing, continuing to trace your arm while his question hangs between you. 

What’s your favorite thing about your new city?

“I like how large it is,” you finally answer, struggling to string together words over the ache settling between your thighs at his innocent touch. “Back home is medium-sized but in our circles, everyone knows everyone. I always felt like I was making moves with everyone’s eyes on me. Now no one cares what I do, and there are so many people and places that I get lost in the buzz. There’s no pressure to be anyone.”

He hums. “That sounds nice.”

“I like living with Jungkook too. He’s a great roommate. We don’t do a lot because we’re both kind of reclusive but it’s the comfort of home without having to be there.” You smile. “It’s like having a younger brother, which is new for me. I like it.”

“Wow, don’t tell Jin. You’ll break his heart.”

You laugh. “I miss Jin all the time. It was always nice knowing if I needed to cry, I could go find him. Jungkook doesn’t know what to do when I’m upset. He just orders food and looks like he’s going to cry himself until I get over it.”

“Do you cry a lot?”

You shake your head. “Not as much as I used to.”

His movements still. “I don’t ever remember you being a crier. What do you mean not as much as you used to?”

You open your eyes, rolling in his lap lightly so that you’re on your back looking up at him. His fingers are firm on your arm as you five him a look with pinched-brows. “Are you kidding? Crying in front of you would have been the worst thing imaginable.”

“Why? I thought… I thought we were kind of close, no?”

“Yeah, but you were just…” you shrug. You’re unsure how to say it without hinting that you were absolutely in love with him in middle school and high school. You don’t want the truth to ruin the little world you’ve created for the night on the porch.

“You were just always so cool,” you venture. “Everyone always loved you and you were just like this effortless dude. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see me crying. Not like that day Taehyung and Jimin were reading my diary and you scared the shit out of them.”

A fond smile turns his lips upwards. “I do remember that. I was so mad when I saw you upset.”

“I appreciated the gesture, but it was mortifying.”

Yoongi chews on his lip a bit. You can’t help but focus on his mouth. His lips are petal pink, a little chapped from the way his teeth pull at the soft flesh.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is reaching for his face, prodding at his lips lightly. “Stop biting the skin on your lips,” you murmur. “You’re going to make them bleed.”

Yoongi freezes under your touch. You feel him go rigid and dread fills you when you realize you’ve probably pushed a boundary. You’ve already pushed a few, sprawled in his lap alone under the covers.

“Sorry,” you whisper, taking your hand away. He catches it, fingers firm and you watch, lips parted as he brings your hand back up to his face, placing it on his cheek. He nuzzles your hand lightly and you spread your fingers, cupping his face entirely. “You’re very pretty.”

He snorts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Always though so.”

“Well, I always thought you were the most beautiful person in the room,” Yoongi murmurs, shifting.

The world tilts as he pushes up with his knees, elevating you toward him. Yoongi uses his hands to prop you up slightly, bending down to brush his lips against yours. You’re so surprised you don’t kiss back for a second. He hesitates, beginning to pull away. You feel every part of you sparking as you push forward, bringing your mouth up to the softness of his lips.

Yoongi tastes like a mixture of beer and mouthwash. It isn’t your favorite combination, but it’s Yoongi and his lips are soft and your head is spinning.

What are you doing what are you doing what are you doing? Your thoughts take over, disconnecting you from the kiss, and suddenly you’re opening your eyes. 

As if sensing the distraction, Yoongi pulls back. His eyes are glazed over and his face is red. Your heart is thundering as you stare at each other, and you realize that you just kissed Min Yoongi. Your fingers are clutching the collar of his shirt and you both stare, equally shocked.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

Your hands drop down from his shirt. Stupid. This was stupid and you choke out an apology, scrambling to remove yourself from his lap, face burning hotter than the sun and thoughts turning into a violent mess of anxiety. 

Yoongi’s grip turns to iron on you. Pulling you back to sit on the seat next to him. “Stop,” he orders. You do. You’re in a sitting position, hair disheveled and throat tightening. The tears are so near that you know you have only seconds before they spill over. 

“I said I shouldn’t have kissed you, not that I didn’t want to,” he clarifies. “But we’ve had… a lot to drink and I think maybe I need to pump the breaks before I do something you don’t want me to.”

Not that he didn’t want to. So he did want to kiss you. You say nothing, staring at him with parted lips, trying to understand what that means. What it means to you. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi swears. “I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry-”

“You made me nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“I can’t tell if you feel like you made a mistake because it’s me and you’re not attracted to me or-”

He shuts you up by kissing you again. Your mind is spinning. This time his kiss is firmer and he deepens it, his tongue parting the seam of your mouth, wet and warm. It feels like you’re going to crash into him, dizzy with the way that he sucks on your bottom lip greedily, drunk with the way his hands press into your face, pulling you toward him hungrily. 

Carefully, one of his hands slides down, gripping the side of your neck as he holds you in place, lips smacking as he devours you. The pressure of his thumb on your pulse pulls a moan out of you, surprising you both.

Yoongi pulls away slightly, mouth slick with spit and a little swollen. “Did you just moan?”

“Umm…”

“Fuck,” he growls, advancing on you and pushing you backward on the couch, climbing over you without a second thought. 

The hesitation is gone. You’re absolutely drowning in Yoongi. The smell of sandalwood. The feel of his callused hands untucking your shirt so he can feel the warmth of your skin, hands rubbing up and down your sides. His tongue is dangerous and determined, tasting every inch of your mouth and tongue. Your knees squeeze his hips as he slots between your legs, arms clawing at his shoulders. 

Kissing Yoongi is nothing like you thought it would be. He devours you, making the very seams of you rip open to bare yourself to him. Your nails knock the hat from his head and he grunts into your mouth as your fingers card through his blond hair, pulling as they go.

Yoongi is situated between your legs, blanket on the floor as he begins to press kisses down your jaw, moving toward your neck. You tilt your head back, open and pliant for him as his teeth nip lightly enough, tongue following to lick a path to your ear. He nibbles your earlobe lightly and the moan that escapes you is loud, Yoongi’s hand finding your mouth.

You open your eyes as he hovers over you, necklace dangling as he regards you, pupils blown. “Try to keep quiet for me, sweet girl.”

Everything he does makes you feel like your nerves are exposed to his every touch and caress. He’s gentle as his fingers work the button on your jeans, pulling them down as he bites and licks at your mouth. You’re helpless to his touch, unable to do anything but claw at his stomach beneath his shirt, yank him closer to you by his belt loops, and whine in his mouth quietly when he presses his fingers firmly to your clit over your underwear.

You have no idea how to stay silent. You gasp as he begins to rub you through the thin cloth. You shake when he chuckles darkly against your ear, nipping it lightly as he murmurs, “Such a sensitive girl. Fuck you’re already wet, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you manage to reply, breathy and faint.

“I don’t? Guess I’ll need to find out.”

Yoongi pulls your underwear down, the scrape of fabric making you sigh. He pulls a leg over his shoulder, spreading you open for him. You cover your face with your hand, shaking fingers feeling the heat in your cheeks. 

“None of that,” he chastises, clicking his tongue at you and pulling your hand away. You see that he’s looking at you, hands rubbing up and down your thighs. “You don’t need to be embarrassed or anxious about a single fucking thing with me. If you’re uncomfortable, let’s stop. I’m not going to-”

“Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “No? Are you sure? You look like you want to hide.”

“I just…” you squirm. “Don’t stop.”

“Okay, then I won’t.” His eyes dip down again and he curses, seeing how messy he’s made you from just kissing. “Been dying to taste you, sweet girl.”

His words send you spiraling. It’s like he’s venom in your blood and the only antidote to the ache that has settled between your legs is his touch. He slides down, making himself comfortable between your legs. He presses kisses to the soft flesh of your inner thighs, biting lightly as you squirm underneath him, feeling his laughter.

But he’s not laughing at you. He’s laughing because he’s effected by you, and for once you can tell the difference, especially when he leans forward and licks you, slow-soft right up the seam of your pussy. Your hands fly to your mouth, trying to hide the strangled noise as he licks you from bottom to top again, rough tongue increasing pressure to the underside of your clit, making you dizzy.

“Fuck,” you barely hear him mutter. “You have the prettiest fucking pussy.” He kitten licks your clit and your hips buck, chasing his mouth. He hums in satisfaction. “Gonna eat you out until you’re crying.”

That’s the only warning you get before he leans forward and sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue working at it lazily and oh my god it’s nothing like you imagined, the way his mouth works you like he has all the time in the world to taste you, tongue curling from your dripping hole to circle around your clit before suckling harshly with his mouth.

You can hear the way he sucks at you fervently, making no attempt to quiet how hungrily he eats you out and how wet you are. You roll your hips toward his greedy mouth as he kneads your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to his mouth.

Breathing is difficult when he slides his tongue to prod at your hole gently. You whine and he looks up at you, pupils dilated, chin and mouth covered in your wetness.

“Does it ache, baby?” You nodded, unable to form coherent sentences. His hand travels south, a single finger tracing your clenching ring of muscles, barely dipping in to tease you. “Yeah? Want my fingers?”

“Please,” you whisper.

Yoongi’s fingers continue to tease you, dipping in shallowly as he goes back to circling your clit lazily with his tongue. You know he can get you off with just his mouth- you feel it. But with those artful fingers of his teasing your hole, increasing the fucking ache to be filled your frustration mounts.

“Min Yoongi,” you growl in a whisper. “If you don’t finger me I swear to- oh my fucking god.”

He snickers, sound vibrating through you as he slides his fingers in, the sensation of him pressing against your front wall making your vision go white as the tip of his tongue flicks at your clit. 

You feel hot all over, like you’re suffocating and reeling and you don’t know what to hold onto. One hand grips the top of the couch, the other rooted in his hair and he makes an appreciative sound. “Fuck yeah,” he growls between the wet smach of his mouth and fingers in your cunt. “Pull my hair, sweet girl.”

You tighten your fingers, nails digging into the nape of his neck. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he gasps, watching as he fucks you with a finger faster. “You have such a greedy cunt, just sucking my fucking finger in. You want another?” You nod helplessly, feeling like you can’t catch your breath. “Mmm. Wanna see you make a fucking mess on me.”

And oh god you know you are. The introduction of another finger stretches you just right and Yoongi has leveled up his ministrations. You bite your bottom lip hard, the sting of teeth cutting into skin adding to the pleasure as you try to shut the fuck up.

“I’m fuuuuuck-”

“Yeah,” Yoongi rumbles. “I know you’re gonna come. Let’s see it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm opens up on you like a storm. It crashes into you and you feel your entire body tense, feet digging into Yoongi’s back and thighs threatening to close on him. He uses a hand to pin your thighs down, muscles aching from the stretch as his tongue and fingers carry you through.

You’re exhausted. Yoongi keeps his fingers shoved deep in your cunt, letting your pulsing walls grip and let go of him, slick leaking around his hand. He doesn’t miss a beat, eager tongue lapping at the juice that drips down your folds, careful to avoid your lit for over stimulation. 

Carefully, he pulls his fingers from your dripping sex, cum dripping down your leg. He notices and dives forward, sucking at your thigh noisily. His chin and mouth are silver in the moonlight, and you watch him in a fucked-out daze as he sits up, staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

A door bangs open on the balcony below you, making you fly up in terror. Yoongi hushes you, pressing you back down and grabbing the blanket from the floor, covering your half-naked figure. He puts a finger to his lips. He notices and gives you a feral smile before popping them in his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he licks them clean.

Sweet he mouths to you. You’re half-entranced by him and half-terrified, listening to the sounds of a crowd on the porch beneath you. You smell the familiar scent of weed float upwards and you give him round, fearful eyes. They have no intention of going inside soon.

Yoongi is careful as he picks up your pants, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You taste yourself and you lick at him, eager for your heady taste on his tongue, hands going for his belt. 

“Ah ah,” he tuts. “As much as I want to fuck you absolutely stupid right now, I think we should go inside.” You pout, making him groan. “You’re not going to be able to keep quiet when I fuck you, and I don't want an audience the first time.” He kisses you, and you feel a contact high though you’re nowhere near close enough to the weed downstairs. “Another time.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[alonelysimp]

For You, Anything

Characters: Kamisato Ayaka x GN! reader

WC: 1003

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Descriptive mention of food, Unedited

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Word vomit, No beta we die like hilichurls, New relationship

Song: (open any Ghibli playlist + kimi no na wa + nakitai watashi wa neko o kaburu)

A/N: surprise my love language is physical touch and I had to bonk myself so many times to keep from mentioning a forehead kiss or a hug-

“I’ve missed being with you like this,” she mumbles, her hand squeezing yours. Her voice is soft, almost drowned out by the grass gently rustling in the wind. Graceful, as petals may float upon a pool or as a heron may perch beside a lakebed. You hum and squeeze her hand back.

“Like what?” She sighs. Her pace slows, just barely a walk now.

“It’s… my duty… as lady of the Kamisato Clan to represent the Yashiro Commission, but...” Her voice trails off and she comes to a stop. The air stills, as if the world were holding it’s breath waiting for her to continue. Her eyes cast downward, a soft pink dusting the tips of her ears. “I cannot be as open with my true feelings, as I can with you.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I wish to be more open, someone the people of Inazuma can trust, and yet I can only be like this with you. Where does the daughter of the Kamisato Clan end, and my true self begin?” You step closer, adjusting your hand to intertwine your fingers with hers.

“To me, you are Ayaka. Not the lady of the Kamisato Clan, or the Shirasagi Himegimi. Just Ayaka. The pretty girl at the festival, in the blue kimono with a kitsune mask that I watched the fireworks with.” She relaxes at your words, a smile returning to her face. The breeze stirs the sakura blossoms that line the path. “And I missed being with you too.” You gently nudge her hand forward, prompting her to walk again.

Fog settles around you as you near the forest’s edge. Bake-danuki statues line the pathway, appearing on the rocks in clusters. From afar, you can hear their song to tempt travelers towards them for a harmless trick.

“The forest is beautiful this time of year.” You can only nod and watch in amazement as the fireflies flit in and out of view in the blue haze. If you weren’t just outside a minute ago, you would’ve sworn it was night.

Her hand releases yours, running down the path and crouching just beside it. You hurry up to her, crouching down beside her. She holds a flower in her hand, one recently picked, and turns to you. Her hand reaches toward your hair hesitantly, letting you pull away if you wanted, but you remain still. She tucks the flower into the hair above your ear, fingers gently working it to stay put.

“There.” A smile falls on her lips, and you swear your heart does backflips in your chest. She looks ethereal in the blue light filtering through the leaves and the fog. Her hair glows, almost, and she… she’s… “I’m sorry, y/n. Do you want me to take it out?” Her voice brings you back to reality. Her brows are pressed together in concern. You reach up to touch your face, eyes falling on the ground, feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

“Oh…” You smile at the thought, albeit a bit cheesy. Her beauty, it brought you to tears. You look back up to her, seeing the tension in her expression lessen slightly at the sight of you smiling, despite the tears that fall. “You’re beautiful, Ayaka.”

Her hand draws closer to your face, hovering just above your cheek. Warmth radiates off it slightly, barely warmer then the slightly cooler air around you. You press your face against her hand, silent permission for her to gently wipe the tears from your eyes.

She helps you stand back up, leading you by the hand over the river. She sat on a rock in the clearing beside a cooking pot, left behind by a certain trio of chefs.

“I hope you don’t mind letting me cook today, I learned some recipes I want to try out. You shake your head, taking a seat beside her.

“You’ve improved a lot. I trust it’ll be good since you made it.” She smiles and pulls ingredients out of her bag.

“Turn around, I want it to be a surprise,” she huffs in amusement. You roll your eyes playfully, complying to her shenanigans.

A flower brushes against your foot as you turn to sit the other direction. It makes a soft noise as you pick it. Within a few minutes, you had the beginnings of a flower crown, braiding the stems of the flowers together. The silence that sat between the two of you is comfortable, simply basking in each other's presence.

She hums, tapping your shoulder. “Close your eyes, I want you to guess what it is.” You set the flower crown in your lap, turning to her with your eyes closed. You hear something crunchy cracking, and something not moist, but not dry either get moved around. It's spicy, that much you can smell, and the smell of sir fried ham has been making your mouth water.

The heat radiates off the chopsticks she holds out in front of your lips, not so hot it would burn you but not so cold it would taste weird. A smile tugs at your lips and your mouth closes around the chopsticks. It’s fiery at first, the sheer spiciness taking you by surprise which leaves as soon as it comes, leaving you with only the reminiscent flavour as the spices burst through the dying flames. The ham is crispy, a salty sear on the outside giving way to a mildly flavoured, juicy interior. A dry piece crunches in your mouth, a faint flavour of rice mixing with the other flavours that leave your mouth warm.

“...Can I have more?” She giggles, giving you another bite of her dish. “What is it?”

“A recipe I got from the traveler. They said it was a Liyuean specialty, jueyun guoba.” You open your eyes, seeing a warm blush on her cheeks and a dish in one hand, chopsticks in the other.

“It’s delicious, you should make it more.” She smiles and nods excitedly.

“For you, y/n, anything.”

Woah it has been a long minute since i posted- thinking abt putting the banner above the cut? how are we feeling abt it? Also I'm in love with Ayaka !!

[evanstarff]

Hi, not sure if I can send this in here, but thought maybe I could. If not, I'm sorry, please feel free to delete this. So I'm a fanfic author too, but lately I feel like I'm only on the fandom I'm in to spit content; even worst, I don't get feedback or interactions. I still feel passion against writing, but the other part feels like it's missing.

It's OK, love – thank you for making time to send me an Ask 🖤🖤🖤 I think it's something a lot of creators are grappling with and I'm not sure if it's something that will ever have a resolution.

I'm not sure if I'm the right person to ask about this, because I don't value feedback from online strangers on my writing and posts as others might. And that's fine – we all value and interact with fandom in different ways. And fandom is constantly changing in ways we can't always control or make sense of – that's just its nature.

To answer your gripes, I guess you need to ask yourself first what you value from fandom. Is it the feedback from strangers? Is it validation from strangers? If so, this is a slippery slope that not even the most established writers and creators can ever rely on. It will never fill the bucket of self-worth that we crave and need and cultivate from our personal relationships. We don't lie on our deathbeds wishing we got more followers and Likes and feedback – we wish we had more time to shoot the shit with friends and loved ones.

For me personally, I write because it helps me be creative amidst this craziness of trying to manage my life and indulge in all my headcanons about my favourite characters. I'm not here for comments or Likes or feedback – I don't value that number of likes or comments or followers, because it doesn't feed or enrich me in the way other parts of my life do. I'm just here to throw my unedited word vomit into the void and maybe have a good time while doing it. That's what I value – any comment or interaction is just a bonus and I'm grateful for every single one.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have found a (very extremely tiny) group of people I interact with through and about fandom. As much as I abhor social media as the platform of choice for posting fan content (it's shit, don't do it), it's brought me some of the most fulfilling friendships I've ever had the privilege of having – and for that reason, I can't fault social media or Tumblr completely.

I know this might not be the answer you're looking for, but I do hope you figure out what fandom means for you and that you find your thing that makes you feel most you 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder In Th Dressing Room

Chapter 10. The Finale

Unedited.

Warnings: death mention.

For more info about the story, read this post.

It is.. Sad to post the final chapter alone, but im glad to finally not have to worry about the fic anymore. I hope you guys enjoyed reading, lets finish this off...

You can finally read all of this from the beggining, right here

Even before Emile had answered the doorbell, Logan could hear Patton's baby babble of "dadda dadda dadadadada" through the door. They had just came back from Remy's funeral, the car ride to Emile's apartment was silent and painful. Car rides would probably always be painful for Roman after everything that happened. He kept a hand on Logan the whole time, up until Emile had opened the door with a bouncing baby Patton in his arms

"Hii!" He sing songy, shifting Patton to one arm to hug Logan when he entered "someone missed you!" Roman couldn't help but smile looking at him, his little legs kicking frantically and hands making grabby motions towards Logan. He had thick blonde curls circling his head like a halo, and chubby cheeks smiling ear to ear.

"And I missed him!" Logan called, taking Patton into his own arms and hugging him tight. Patton's hands were pulling at anything he could get, giggling when he pulled off his daddas glasses and dropped them to the floor. "Did you have fun with uncle Emile??" He asked, getting a string of gibberish back from the boy. Emile gestured them in, nudging toys out of the way from where they were sprawled out on the floor. 

Roman took a minute to take in the room and quickly realised he couldn't tell where Patton's stuff stopped and Emile's started. The walls were a light pink almost like a baby girls nursery, shelves of stuffed animals and toys decorating the walls alongside posters of avatar the last airbender and into the spiderverse. The only thing that did not match the childlike decor was the pictures of him and another man decorating every free space he had. 

Logan carried on pretending to understand the mindless babble from Patton as Roman traced the room, stopping in front of a frame holding the two on their wedding day, kissing like it was the only thing giving them life. 

"That was angel" Emile smiled, resting his hand on Roman's shoulder. "He was perfect" 

'Was?' Roman thought to himself, a quick glance at Emile's hand revealed a wedding band and one more glance around the room showed a picture of Emile nearly tackling the man wearing a military uniform in what seems to be an airport. 'Oh.'

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude" Roman laughed awkwardly. He had met Emile a smattering of times when him and Logan were dating, but had never actually talked about anything more than the charlie brown thanksgiving special they watched every year. 

"Oh you're fine" Emile waved it off "it was a long time ago" behind them, roman could hear Logan baby-talk back to his son.

"That's Roman" he stretched out Roman's name for the boy to learn "Roman" the man in question whipped around, moving to squat in front of the two sitting on the couch. 

"Ro-in" Patton tried, making both of them smile widely. Roman played with the fingers on Patton's chubby hand, making the baby giggle.

"It's nice to meet you!" Roman smiled, holding out his finger for Patton to grab and shake. His entire hand circled around one finger.

"I think he likes you" Logan added softly, picking up Patton and setting him in Roman's arms. Patton loved being held by anyone and everyone, he thrived off the physical affection and absolutely adored the attention. He practically immediately wrapped his arms around the stranger, mumbling various incorrect versions of his name as he tried to add it to his limited vocabulary. (New words were coming everyday, even if he didn't know what they meant. Yesterday he learned 'kitty' after watching monsters inc) 

"I think I like him too" he whispered. When Emile walked into the kitchen, Roman moved himself and Patton onto the couch, resting his head against Logan's shoulder as he bounced Patton up and down. "I like this. I like that you're a dad now.. " Patton started to wiggle himself out of Roman's grip, crawling to the floor to beat at some blocks with letters on them. 

"Well" Logan smiled fondly, leaning over and tilting Roman's chin gently with his index finger "I think you'd make a pretty great dad too" he kissed him softly, the action being more smiles than anything.

This was what Roman wanted, and was afraid he'd never get. Forgiveness. The promise that he hadn't ruined this too, that they could start over with a kid and soon a new apartment, a new family… that despite everything he was still loved. 

Unconditionally. 

One year later

“Papa Roman look!” Patton bounced, holding up painting of the three of them, plus their pet cat virgil. He smiled a mostly toothless grin as he proudly displayed his work. In all reality, the construction paper had barely recognizable blobs of color and some scribbles vaguely forming the shape of the 3 and a black splotch of paint labeled 'virgil ' . 

“Look at that!” Roman proudly proclaimed, hoisting up Patton and setting him on the counter beside him “aren't you just a little artist!” Patton nodded his head,  happily kicked his legs against the counter. He made small grabby hands towards the empty bowl of cake batter, still not fantastic at forming sentences to ask for what wants . Roman chuckled and held up the spoon, holding it in front of him before pulling it back.

“Say please,” he instructed.

“Please!” Patton giggled, pulling on Roman's apron, smiling widely when he received the spoon. 

“What do we say?” Roman added, watching Patton smear the chocolate batter on his face in an attempt to fit the entire mixing spoon in his mouth.

“Thank you!” he added around the spoon. A door opened in the adjacent living room, and Roman silently congratulated himself for not flinching too hard. He felt their cat virgil rub itself against his leg, asking silently to be lifted and pet, he was a lot like the actual virgil, always wanting attention, causing trouble, managing to find the weirdest places to nap. Roman had a conspiracy that the cat actually was virgil, Logan told him that was nonsense.

“Daddy!” Patton called, hopping off the counter and falling to the floor, legs trembling slightly as he stood up and continued to run to Logan standing by the door.

 “Greetings, Patton,” Logan smiled, lifting his son into his arms with a small grunt of effort “hello Roman.” this has become routine for the pair. Once the dust had settled, court cases fought, and funerals had, they had done everything in their power to make life as normal as possible for themselves, and Patton. That didn't stop it from hurting, they both still woke up from night terrors from that day, week,hell the whole month. They both know that it'll never completely go away, that that pain and hurt and trauma will still be there underneath it all but for now they had a kid to raise and the therapy and medication emile helped them get set up sure was helping. 

“You’re home early,” Roman smiled, leaning up to give Logan a small kiss as he walked through the kitchen. Logan had, understandably, quit his job as a detective, moving instead to work some nameless desk job. Roman had started working from home, finding it easier to handle emotionally after everything that happened, plus giving him a chance to finally get to know Patton. 

Logan began to rant and ramble about his time with his boss and coworkers,why he was home early, the traffic on the way there, and something in Roman's head clicked about how much of a dad he looked like. Holding his child, standing in the kitchen of their own, virgil now trying to find a way on top of the fridge and the sun shining through the window above the sink and the smell of chocolate cake slowly filling the kitchen. 

It was the life he'd always wanted, and the life Logan had always wanted to provide. When he met ethan, he was promised a life of luxury- high celings, epensive clothes, sex, and money. But looking back this was all he wanted. A Modest apartment with a kid and Logan, and an engagement ring on his finger, this time one he was asked, not told to wear.

This was exactly where he wanted to be, this was the happy ending hed always imagined in his head.

“Are you alright Roman?” Logan's voice pierced through his thoughts, setting Patton down on the floor beside him to cup his face in his hands. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, sniffing softly. “I'm okay." there was a whisper of hope on the tip of his tounge.

"I'm okay."

@cataclysm-al @knightinsoftpastels @intruality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality @nonbeenary-enbee @imbasicallyshakespear @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @incoherentfangirl @oofmood @nonbinary-pineapple @royalnerd829 @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @magma-llama @chumo-cookie

Thank you for reading and from the bottom of my heart, i hoped you all enjoyed the experience

[jksofficialwifey]

Sugar, Sugar.

Sugar daddy!Jin au & fckbuddy jungkook drabble

pairing: jk x reader/jin x reader

warnings: nsfw & sexual themes, cussing, a bit of smut if u squint hard enough, toxic relationships.

A/N: this was rushed and unedited, but i just wanted to post this drabble & get done with it so there's that 😝 sorry for the grammatical errors & errythin as always. ily all tho & i hope u enjoy this shtpost 😁😘

♡

"Come get back in bed babe, I'm sure he can wait." Jungkook pleads, his lips now starting to pout.

"You know I can't kook, and even if I know he'll wait, I wouldn't want him to." You say, as you put on your clothes hurriedly, preparing to leave.

"Of course, you wouldn't want to keep your glucose grandpa waiting so long. He might have a heart attack or something," He sarcastically retorted now sitting up on the bed.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny kook. Though that ain't it, He's not even a grandpa. He's still 26, very healthy and active, if you must know."

"Ya whatever. He's the same age as my older brother though, your glucose granddaddy's probably uglier." He scoffed.

"Hey! My Financial supporter isn't ugly, He's ethereal. I bet if you saw him you'd want to be his sugar baby too. Your straight ass would probably reconsider being straight cos he's too beautiful for this world." You confidently replied.

"So, is that why you like him that much? cos he's beautiful? he prob gives good head too. But I know for a fact, no one can devour your pussy the best like me." he says and smiles smugly. "Ew. Please don't use big or cringy deep words again when talking about our sexy time, or I'm really gonna vomit. Also, I've told you a thousand times we haven't done anything. Not all sugar daddy relationships do and have to do stuff like that you know."

"Sure, says the one who used sexy time to describe how we make love. And if you're gonna vomit, do it on his expensive ass floor mat. Since he can afford to replace it and the whole house if he wanted to."

"I really have to go kook, see you whenever i do," You say now truly heading for the door. He just nods at you, acts indifferently though he was begging for you to stay a little longer, just awhile ago.

"Jin, Sorry if i was late. The traffic was horrible you know how they are."

You tell him upon arriving at his place, though you know it wasn't just the traffic that made you arrive late, it was because of another guy you didn't tell him about but he didn't seem to bother to ask too. "It's okay love, I completely understand. How are you today though? are you feeling alright? you texted me yesterday that you were so tired, are you overworking yourself again?" He says a bit concerned and empathetically.

He's always been so considerate and kind to you, and you've always liked that about him. "Yea, I'm good. Peachy. I was just worn out because of work yesterday, (and of riding jungkook's cock til we both passed out) but now i'm feeling great." You smiled at him trying to reassure him you were fine.

"How about you dear? dear. your endearment for him, how are you feeling today?" You asked. "I'm feeling good too. Actually better, now that you're here with me." He smiled, and you blushed a little embarrassingly, though it was cheesy but you had a soft spot for him.

"Anyway, I'm glad you aren't overworking yourself, but remember you can always ask me for more support if you want to. You know I'd give you everything in the world, anything for you." You were quite flustered by his words.

"Thanks, Jin. for everything really, you've always been so kind and helpful to me, though I don't do much or even enough for you, to repay you." was your pathetic reply.

"No, don't say that again love. You know, you being here with me is enough. You don't have to do filthy things to repay me. You know I'd be happy already if you just spend your time with me."

"But what if i want to do filthy things with you? I mean, if you allow me to. I want to make you feel good, daddy." You don't always call him daddy, in fact you rarely call him that. Your relationship was just pure companionship actually. That was what you both agreed on, when your partnership started. You both wouldn't do anything sexual ever. At first you thought he was asexual, but he said he wasn't when you asked him. Now, you wanted to repay him for all the good things he's done for you, but how will you when he doesn't want you to? You were confused and a bit taxed actually.

"Y/N you know what we agreed on...let's not break our agreement. I think you should rest more, maybe you're still feeling unwell." he replied quite tiredly. he doesn't usually call you by your name too, was he mad? disappointed? you weren't sure, but you didn't like it and you weren't sure you wanted to know.

"Ok...I'll just go to the room then," you replied. "Actually love, I think you should just go home. Maybe you'll be more comfortable resting there." Did he just say he wanted you out of his sight? ouch that hurt quite a bit, ok mayhaps a lot.

"Oh. ok then, I'll go home sorry for bothering you," You say, starting to walk away from him and head for the door. "Y/N, It's not like that. You know you're not a bother to me, and you never will be." Jin says.

"No, I get it. You don't want me and that's okay, we're just fellow associates anyway right?" you snap at him.

"No, why are you being like this love? I do want you. I just don't want us to be like them and everyone else. I don't want us to use eachother to that exent. I want us to be friends first, to get closer and if it leads to something more then why not? please...let's not fight about this," he pleads pityfully.

"Do you really though? do you want me? anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's just talk about it later tom. just call me or whatever." You say as you open the door and head out fast, not hearing what he might've replied to your question.

"You're back early? bet ya 5 bucks glucose guardian had a stroke and u had to send him to the ER and leave him there?" Jungkook was still there when you came back, and on his dumb ass phone, playing games. Apparently he was in a mood for jokes as always, but you weren't.

"Stfu junglecock, I'm not in the mood. Why are you still here anyway? don't you have other hoes to do? just make sure to always keep safe and try to catch fewer curable stds, or I'll never fck your nasty ass again."

"Wow someone's pretty ass is pissed, what's wrong baby? did your grandpa have a hard time getting his ancient magic stick up? is that why you're so mad cos you needed a good dicking down but you didn't get it?" he annoyingly implied.

"Jungkook, if you don't shut the f up for real you'll never be able to use your magic stick again, and I'm really serious about it." you glared at him as you said it.

"Ok. fine babe, chill. I know what always helps you relax..." He says as he drops his phone and moves towards you, backhugging you and rubbing your shoulders softly. He knows that you like how calming it feels although you don't forget the sexual implication that comes with it too.

"You know you can tell me anything right? we're not just fuckmates, we're saltmates too. We're friends aren't we?" He says while looking at you, trying to guess what's on your mind. "Of course we are kook. It's just things with jin...I feel like I'm not doing enough or good enough for him. Sometimes I feel like he just doesn't want me, but then he says he does. And I'm just- confused i guess."

"Hey, don't be too hard on yourself babe. You both agreed on that partnership, so why should you do more than what you agreed on? he's not asking for other things or forcing you to do something to repay him right?" he says a bit bitterly.

"No. He's not like that." You reassure jungkook. "Anyway, we'll probably make up later tom. and everything'll be just fine. So, you were talking about helping me to de-stress?" you told him suggestively.

You and jungkook went on it all through out the night. He pounded on you like there was no tomorrow. After your 8th round, the both of you were taxed and almost asleep. Or so you thought he was too, til he made small talk.

"Baby, are you still awake?" he asked, moving closer wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you tight. You mumbled something like "urm yea" and he took a peek at you to see if you we're still actually awake.

"You don't have to go back to him ya know," he said out of the blue, making you face him. "You could stay with me. You could be happy with me y/n. We could fuck forever happily." You didn't know what to say to that.

"Can i be honest? these past few months I didn't think I'd feel something more for you, But I did. I do. I kinda like you more than just a fckfriend y/n, hell I think I'm inlove with you. Do you feel the same way? even just a bit?" he suddenly asked and you didn't really know what to respond. So you replied something lame, "I think you're just tired guk, maybe we should really sleep now." You said looking somewhere else in the room, anywhere but his handsome face, you tried to avoid the subject, hoping that maybe he'll drop it and forget it but you know he won't.

"Is that your reply to my confession? Wow, I didn't think you'd be this mean baby. Are you rejecting me cos I'm not as rich as him? I can support us both too you know. I can save up for the things that will prob cost us our whole lives if you want to have them. Anything for you. I may not be as debonair and grand as him, but I promise you I'll love you and give you everything you want more than him. You'll have my whole heart and all of my attention, so will you please stay and choose me instead?" he begged. But you already made your choice a long time ago.

"I like you too guk, and I'll stay." you said though you know better. You lied. You left his handsome figure still sleeping soundly behind. After you told him you'll stay last night, you both fell asleep right after. But now here comes the morning, and you're already halfway to the door. You take one last look at his beautiful face, knowing it might be a long time before you see it again.

"Jin, I think I wanna go with you on that business trip." You said to him, eager to leave with him right away. "You mean the one in Japan I'll be going to later? I thought you didn't wanna come love? but ok, i guess you changed your mind. it'll be lovely to be with you there." You're glad he's okay with you coming with him.

"Yeah, I realized it'd be boring here on my own and I already filed a leave for work. And i'd probably miss you too so I wanna come with you." you said and a faint blush showed on your cheeks.

"Just probably? so you won't really miss me? jk. love, did you already pack your things? you should get ready. I'll have to stop by the office for a bit to get some things, so just meet me there when you're done. I'll be going now, so I can get ready and check that I didn't forget anything at the office, so I'll see you later love?"

"Yea, see you later Jin." You didn't call him by your endearment but you hope he didn't mind. To your surprise and delight, he gave you a peck on the cheek before running off to leave.

"Uh excuse me, can I ask if Jin's still inside his office?" you told the secretary.

"Kim Seokjin our CEO? yes, he's still inside his office. And who are you miss?" The secretary inquired.

"Uh I'm-"

"She's my girlfriend and fiancee. Her name is y/n and you should remember her face from now on." The familiar ethereal voice said from behind you, It was Jin who just arrived to meet you. The secretary apologized soon after, she was probably regretting why she had asked that question, though you assured her it was okay. "Hyung are you leaving now for that japan business- Y/N, is it really you?"

You wouldn't forget the owner of that voice of course. Though you left him behind. He spoke from behind you, and you didn't wanna face him or move. You didn't until Jin asked you, "Love, do you know my brother jungkook?" You turned slowly to face them, and mustered the courage to reply.

"Yes, We were kinda friends during college." you lamely said. "Oh. You didn't tell me you were friends with my brother. Anyway, yes jungkook I'll be going on that business trip, and Y/N will be accompanying me." Jin told his younger brother.

How could you even know jungkook was his younger brother when he didn't even tell you? He might've mentioned a brother before, but Jin didn't say it was actually Jeon Jungkook. And they have different last names anyway, so they're probably just half brothers? your pondering was interrupted by no other than jungkook speaking,

"Oh really? Before you go though, can i ask y/n this question; Is my brother the sugar daddy you were always talking about? or is your glucose guardian a different one too?" his words shocked and hurt you, though you couldn't blame him, you hurt him too.

"Jungkook, what the hell are you talking about? you don't know anything about us you brat. Mind your own damn business." You've never heard Jin cuss before, or it was rare that he did. Mayhaps he was really mad this time.

"Y/N what is he talking about? what does he mean that I'm the one you're always talking about with him? I thought you were just old college friends?" Jin inquired. "Jin...I-" you wanted to tell him about everything, but no words seem to come out of your pathetic little mouth yet.

"Oh come on baby, It's just a simple question. Is my brother the old hag you always come back to, for money or what? if he isn't, then how many are they? just curious babe." Jungkook sarcastically said. Jin was furious at this point, how dare Jungkook call you his baby? and the accusations he's saying are just over the top. Jin knows he's your only financial supporter, he's the only one right? "Jungkook you ass-" before jin could finish speaking, you spoke, though you were holding back tears.

"Yes. He's my benefactor, my sugar daddy, whatever you call it. And so what if he is kook? it's none of your business anymore. And just for the record, he's the only one. I don't have any other patrons or sugar daddies."

"Great. Just fcking amazing then, You were screwing both of us at the same time, that's why you never told me your sugar daddy's name, you planned this didn't you? I didn't see you as a gold digger who targets siblings but here we are-" Jin grabbed Jungkook by the collar because he couldn't take all the bullcrap the younger was saying about you. "Jungkook if you don't shut your filthy mouth I swear-"

"You'll what hyung? punch me? kill me? I'm already dead. Can't you see hyung? she's the one playing with us! ask her what the two of us have been doing behind your back! Sorry hyung, but i didn't know you were her sugar daddy though," Jungkook shouted.

"Love, I don't know if what he's saying is true, but i wanna hear it from you. Please tell me what's going on? why is he saying you're screwing the both of us?" Jin pleaded at you.

"I...he's my fckbuddy Jin. I'm so sorry, we didn't touch each other and I have my needs, so i had to find someone else to fulfill them. But we stopped it already. I left him and lied, and maybe that's why he's so mad at me." You said exhausted with it all,

"I promise you though I didn't know he was your brother, and I wouldn't have messed around with him if I knew. Dear, please believe me. I truly am sorry." Now it was you who was pleading.

"I'm not mad at you for leaving, I'm mad at you for lying to me. You shouldn't have said you felt something for me when you didn't." Jungkook said, now more glum than angry.

"You were really lovers then? You should have told me you wanted to hook up with other people y/n. We could've made it clear in our agreement. Maybe all of us wouldn't be hurting so much," Jin calmed down too, though disappointment and sadness was written all over his face. "I can't and won't compete with my brother y/n, we might not agree with things all the time but I can't bear to see him hurt. Jungkook likes you, and if I have to let you go so he'll stop hurting, then I will."

"No. Jin please don't do this, you're the one that I love, not Jungkook. Please don't give me up." You begged jin.

"I'm sorry love, but I can't choose you." And that was the last thing Jin said before he left you.

Jungkook took took you back after all, and you started dating him. You've learned to like him after Jin left. Though you heard Jin inherited their multi-billion dollar company in japan, and was managing it too. You were just moping around when you got a text from your boyfriend Jungkook: "When are you coming home babe?" it read. "Probably not soon yet, babe" you replied.

"What do u mean baby? how long are you gon stay there?" he texted again, probably for a really long time You replied mentally. You were still on your business trip or that's what jungkook thought, what he doesn't know is that Jin is the business trip, and you're just on your way there. You liked Jungkook he was hot, but you loved Jin more or maybe his money a whole lot.

~fin~

[roseymoseyberry]

meridianbarony replied to your post: It’s honestly embarrassing sometimes what will...

….. >.>…. do you have more on that au tho….

oh good lord i’ve definitely thought v much about it, and I have no intention of writing it as a fanfic because frankly I don’t know enough about metal or how investigations actually work, haha. BUT! here’s basically the whole Swerve/Ultra Magnus Forensic Investigators AU:

so I don’t remember if this was actually in the comics or if i just made this shit up my fucking self but like, metallurgy for cybertronians is kind of similar to dermatology, so it’s very much a medical specialization.

So from there i figure like, most of them would have jobs similar to dermatologists, i.e. helping bots that can afford it to have plating that is less blemished/isn’t as easily blemished or helping bots with legit issues with their plating and metals, etc. Some metallurgists go into more engineering stuff (so dealing with non-living metals) but it’s kind of the looked down upon side of metallurgy. Kind of like the blue collar side of it? It’s stereotyped at as where metallurgists who couldn’t manage to keep a job in a medicinal context end up. (which isn’t true, some metallurgists just prefer non-living metal work, but you know. stereotypesssss)

forensic metallurgy is definitely a thing, but it’s v different and skews more towards science than medicine, so it’s kind of like engineering metallurgy in terms of how it’s viewed. The main reason is because the VAST majority of the time, forensic metallurgists are dealing with non-living metal. Metal from weapons or from a crime scene, etc. Most of the living metal stuff -- aka corpses oops -- is handled by the medics who do autopsies and such. Forensic metallurgists would only ever be brought in if a specialist was needed, and a lot of the time the medics won’t bother because they’re “just” a metallurgist

Swerve goes into forensic metallurgy with huge aspirations. He has definitely glamorized it in his mind, and definitely expected to have a bigger impact on solving crimes. He genuinely wants to help! But instead, his work is dealing with evidence, and usually just in a routine way -- he hasn’t been able to actually discover any clues that breaks any case. Every year that goes by he sort of continues to drain him, because he knows he’s looked down on by the autopsy medics and his fellow metallurgists, and all he was trying to do was do some good in the world! To be a hero and find a criminal!

And then, one day, in walks Investigator Ultra Magnus

And of course Swerve already knows Ultra Magnus. He’s a big name around the... precinct?? This shit is why i could never write this as a fic, haha. But anyway, he’s famous in their circles. He’s the kind of bot who gets put on murder cases, who is so thorough and meticulous that he’s a pain in the ass, but damn if it doesn’t get results

And swerve just about robo-pees himself because Ultra Magnus is in his lab and asking Swerve if he received his request to help his investigation

Swerve says he’ll do it before he even has a chance to riffle through his paperwork to actually find the damn thing because he 100% did not see it

The case itself is basically that there’s a double murder. Each of the victims, either during or after the murder, were meticulously taken apart, piece by piece, down to their individual struts and circuit boards, and then the parts of both bots are thrown into and mixed up in a box and dumped.

One of the big problems is identification of the victims. Their plating was completely buffed and scrubbed of any paint and any identifying physical traits seem to have been ground away. As well, the processors and spark cases of the victims were not with the remains. So without any of that, identification was beyond what the autopsy medics could find.

The only reason that they know that it was two bots -- not just one bot, or just a mixture of multiple bots -- was because when all the pieces were separated and sort of pieced together with other parts that seemed to fit, there was just enough parts for one large bot and one minibot.

Ultra Magnus decided to bring the case to a metallurgist in hopes that with that specialization, they might be able to find anything to point to who the victims could be.

Swerve is very, very excited. Until he has the hundreds upon hundreds of body parts and pieces delivered to him and has to face the fact that there were actual living bots once.

Anyway.

Insert forensic procedural here where Swerve slowly goes through all the parts and Ultra Magnus shows up to his lab every. fucking. day. and it’s kind of intimidating and intense because swerve is just so star shocked! Ultra Magnus is the kind of guy he idolizes, someone who’s going out and getting shit done, and Swerve’s big mouth drops comments about how fucking cool Ultra Magnus is, like, constantly. Ultra Magnus sort of brushes it off at first, then sort of ignores it, and then after a while he kind of is like “ok but i’m not? That great at all?”

basically over time (and swerve eventually working up the courage to ask if ultra magnus wants to meet up for drinks after work and stuff like that) they get to know each other and it’s like? Swerve has always looked up to ultra magnus because he’s the big investigator who brings all the clues together and catches the bad guys, and mean while ultra magnus feels like he’s just constantly relying on other people, and doubting that he’s even necessary or important to the process, etc. and so forth. When swerve waffles and tries to be like “ok but you’re big and strong and can get shit done becuase of that!” ultra magnus reveals that he’s actually a minibot named minimus wearing a huge suit, shit like that

because i LOVE swerve and ultra magnus talking about their insecurities together.

Also there’s a second set of murders of a large bot and a minibot that happens somewhere in there and it amps up the pressure and drama because we’ve got a fucking serial murderer on our hands. and maybethere’s a letter left in the box that’s like “i’ve got an *literal optic pasted onto the letter* on you, hopefully i’ll see you soon” or something. there’s a definite fear that the murderer has a target and it could be someone who’s a part of the investigation

And swerve is like fUCK i gotta find??? something!!??? what if they already have their next victims lined up?!?! what if it’s someone on the investigation team?!???!??? aaaaaAAHHHHH?????????

Also though ultra magnus is like sWERVE IS A MINIBOT??? i gotta solve!! this case!!!!!!!!! because what if he’s in danger??????????

also swerve and ultra magnus are slowly sort of circling each other and developing feelings and are pretty sure the other one isn’t interested in them the same way

ANYWAY BACK TO THE EVIDENCE BECAUSE DID YOU THINK I FORGOT? Swerve found with the first set of bodies that there were some spots where there was rubbing away at the plating, which were all pointed out in the autopsy reports as being additional places that the murderer took a grinder too. However, Swerve finds through metallurgy that the scouring on the plating is different -- most of the spots are from a grinder, but some are from gradual rubbing of metal against metal that would have had to happen over time. Swerve can’t really tell if they’re at all significant though, since that’s not that uncommon when you’re body is made of metal.

It’s only when he’s looking at the second set of bodies--

(which btw the autopsy medics were definitely like keeping swerve out of the autopsy because it’s their territory or whatever, he could have them when they were finished, and the second ultra magnus was like “???? why haven’t you started on the new frames????” and swerve told him, ultra magnus got the fuck up in that autopsy room and made it explicitly and loudly clear that swerve was to be part of the autopsy so he could see the frames asap and if there were any problems with that, they could take it up with him, and swerve fucking sWOONED)

--swerve notices more of the weird marks. everyone else sort of slowly makes their way out because the work day is over, but swerve is so focused because what if they mean something! even when ultra magnus comes to escort him home -- because he’s been doing that lately since he’s worried swerve might be a target and he’s v worried!!! -- swerve is like nah, i’m gonna stay overnight, i’ll see you tomorrow. because maybe this would finally be the break in the case. Maybe he could impress ultra magnus! maybe--

It’s not much later that swerve realizes what he’s looking at. The gradual wearing marks are all at joints and corners, as if the minibot was wearing the larger bot, so their plating would rub against the inside of the larger armor plates.

There haven’t been four victims. there’s been two victims, and they were both minibots who wore larger armors.

And Swerve loses his god damn mind because it’s Ultra Magnus! He’s the next victim!

I hadn’t though this part out just as much yet but i’m sure there’s a very dramatic and cool sequence of events where swerve is trying to contact ultra magnus while he’s racing down the route to ultra magnus’s apartment, and it’s definitely raining because that’s cool, and it’s as ultra magnus answers that he gets attacked and so the comm goes dead and swerve is gO N E he’s so freaked out

and he probably stumbles upon the scene, ultra magnus just laying there because the suit has been disabled somehow and minimus is stuck inside, and the murder has got a murder weapon (maybe like... a laser knife or something? that would go through the larger armor and into the one on the inside), and swerve is so scared and so brave and tackles the murderer. It doesn’t go v good for swerve since he’s not a fighter and he’s a minibot, but he distracts long enough that while nobody is watching, minimus manages to drag himself out of the armor and BLAM! shoots the murderer right through the head when he was about to kill swerve

it’s all v cool with these two perfect minibots just staring at each other, both so so worried about the other one and just!!!! robot adrenaline and shock!!!!!

Anyway, the day is saved, and once the two have been taken from the scene and checked out to make sure they weren’t harmed, minimus and swerve probably babble at each other about how worried they were about each other and then kiss because they fell in love

and also solved a crime along the way

And that, ladies and gents and other esteemed guests, is all this fucker wrote.

[5sosxqueen]

Luke's Stomach Virus

< Part 1 , < Part 2 , ~Part 3~

If you've read this far, thank you! Hopefully, you have enjoyed the story so far. I'm not going to lie, I was cringing so bad while editing this one. If I could go back and write this story differently, I would (oh wait, I have 🤣), but you guys are getting the raw unedited version from 2018. I want to truly show everyone my progress in my writing throughout the years.

Warnings: graphic depictions of illness, fainting, scat/accidental messing, brief panic attack, ambulances, hospital scene, seizure mention, bad grammer

Written in 2018

Word Count:

Updates are every Tuesdays and Thursdays

Also Available on Wattpad and AO3!!!

Part 3:

Luke's p.o.v:

     I woke up feeling overall awful. My stomach was still in shambles, my head felt like it was well past the point of expulsion, my body felt like all of my muscles had been torn, and to top it all off I was having cramps in my lower stomach signifying that I would need to make a rather rapid trip to the bathroom. I tried to get up but my body was too weak. "Mich-" i tried to yell for Michael before I felt the familiar feeling of vomit rush up my throat. 'Please not now' I thought thickly swallowing. To my relief swallowing worked. "Michael..." I waited a couple of seconds but heard no-one coming. "MICHAEL HELP!!" With that Michael and Ashton came running into the tiny room. "I can't get up and I need to go-" I was once again cut off by vomit, only this time with much more force than before. I pressed my hand tightly against my mouth and heaved into it, which in turn caused vomit to spew through my fingers. I removed my hand from my mouth not being able to hold it in any longer. To my horror I felt a warm, disgustingly mushy, mess forming in my pants and I couldn't do anything about it. Michael sat down on the bed and started rubbing my back as I lost it from both ends violently. Once I finished vomiting and was only left with the occasional gag and dry heave, I started sobbing. At that point Ash and Michael both shared a knowing and loving look. They knew what had happened. They didn't need to ask me what was wrong. Michael handed me my Gatorade from earlier and I took several long sips.

     "It's alright Luke. It was an accident." Michael said hugging me lightly.

     Ash walked over and grabbed me a fresh set of clothes and handed them to Michael. "Lets get you cleaned up ya?" Ash asked. I nodded sniffling. To my surprise he picked me up and carried me into the bathroom and started helping me undress, seeing as I was too weak to do so myself. He didn't care about the mess when he carefully took off my pants and boxers and helped me clean myself up.

     "I feel like a baby with all this crying... and the fact that I need help with even the most basic functions.... You guys shouldn't have to be responsible for taking care of my messes."

     "I'm sorry we couldn't get you in here before that happened." He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and hugged me as I bawled. "Hey hey don't cry you're ok."

     Michael walked into the bathroom when I had said that and saw Ashton comforting me. "Awww Luke bud it's ok. Hey look at me. Ash go relax. I got Luke." Michael could sense him panicking. Ashton kissed my forehead before he nodded and went out to the "living room" of the bus. He held my chin in his hand and turned my head upward so I looked into his pale green eyes. "I'm going to tell you this once. I won't repeat myself. This is nothing to be ashamed of... it happens to the best of us. It's embarrassing, yes, but don't go feeling like you can't do anything right and most of all do NOT think that we think you are a burden because we have to take care of you. We are your family and we will do anything for you no questions asked." Michael let go of my chin and pulled me into a well needed hug. "We all love you. Don't you go forgetting that now." He said with a slight chuckle letting go from the embrace and patting my shoulder. He turned and grabbed the thermometer that had been long forgotten in the bathroom hours before. "I'm going to take your temperature." I nodded.

     I grimaced as I felt my stomach flip and got the familiar cramping in my lower abdomen. My eyes widened and I quickly pivoted lifted the lid of the toilet and sat on it and put my hand to my mouth. Michael bolted for the bin and set it on my lap just before the Gatorade I drank made a unwelcome reappearance in my lap.

     After a couple minutes of, once again, losing it from both ends I started feeling really dizzy. "I'm dizzy..." I croaked. Michael took the bin out of my hands and set it down and asked if I was done. I nodded and cleaned myself up. Michael flushed the toilet and helped me stand. As I stood though I saw everything drain of color and saw spots. Michael saw me swaying and grabbed my shoulders and asked if I was ok, but I couldn't answer before everything went black.

Matt's p.o.v:

     It's currently 7pm and I am in a meeting with management discussing upcoming events for boys.

     As management knows I always keep my phone on, even during interviews in case the boys need to get a hold of me for any reason. When my phone starting ringing about 25 minutes into the meeting and I saw it was Ashton, my face dropped in instant worry. The boys only ever really call me when one of them is really sick or during an emergency.

     I looked up toward management. "Excuse me, I need to answer this. Sorry." I stepped outside the room and answered the phone immediately.

A- Ashton, Ma- Matt, C- Calum

Ma- "Ash, is everything ok? What's going on?"

A- "Matt! No we need to get Luke to the hospital." Ash said with panic.

Ma- "Ash you need to calm down, breathe. Come on do it with me in... out... in... out... Ok tell me what's going on." Calming myself down in the meantime.

A- "He's been super drained since this morning. He kept falling asleep during the interview."

Ma- "Ya I noticed that he was sleeping a lot today."

A- "Michael asked how he was feeling after the interview and he said 'really sick'. When we brought him back to the bus he immediately went to his bunk. Calum and I went to get meds and general supplies for him while Michael stayed and watched him. No later than us getting back, he was throwing up everything he'd eaten the past week. He keeps getting sick. He can't even keep down liquids and he has diarrhea. Matt I don't know what to do..." He said tearing up.

Ma- "Ash you need to breathe bud. Panicking will not help Luke right now."

A- "I-I know... it's just-" I heard Michael suddenly yell his name and tell him to call an ambulance. Ashton and Calum ran into the bathroom seeing an unconcious Luke in Michael's arms. "OH GOD LUKE.... here Calum I can't..." he quickly handed Calum the phone before breaking down into a sobbing mess and crashed to his knees next to Luke. Putting the phone to his shoulder to muffle what he says to Michael, he asks if he can go ahead and call for an ambulance since he's talking to our mananger. Michael nodded before pressing call and wrapped his arm around Ash then got up and left the room.

C- "Hey Matt."

Ma- "Calum what the hell is going on!? Is luke ok?"

C- "Luke fainted. I think he might be severely dehydrated. Michael is calling medical now."

Ma- "I'm going to talk to management about leaving this meeting early to head to the hospital. Have Ash go with Luke. See you soon Cal."

C- "Alright see you there Matt."

Michael's p.o.v:

     As soon as Luke said he was dizzy, I held onto him. I was afraid he was going to pass out while throwing up. I took the bin and asked if he was done and he nodded. I helped him clean up and got him standing. I saw him sway and tightened my grip on his arm. "Luke are you ok? What's wrong? Luke?" I asked slightly panicked. I saw Luke's eyes roll back into his head and he suddenly went limp I caught him right before he fell and lowered him to the ground. "ASHTON, CALL AN AMBULANCE!!!" I felt my heart begin to race and my breathing became a bit hectic. I took several deep breaths. I regained my composer and felt guilty when I realized I yelled for Ash after he had been panicking. Ash and Calum came running in.

     "OH GOD LUKE.... Here Calum I can't..." Ash says as he hands Calum the phone before breaking into hysterics. Calum held the phone against his shoulder.

     "Michael can you call the ambulance? I'm on the phone with Matt and Ash clearly isn't capable of talking at the moment. Plus someone needs to stay and watch Luke." I quickly nodded my head and dialed the emergency number and gave  Ashton a hug to calm him down. I carefully ran out of the room and told the bus driver to pull over and explained what was going on.

M- Michael, O- Operator

O- "Hello emergency sevices: do you need police, fire, or medical?

M- "Medical."

O- "Ok sir. I'm going to need an address of your location.

M- "We are on a tour bus on Watercrest Lane and Roanoke Drive."

O- "Ok what is the emergency you are calling for?"

M- "My band mate passed out. He's been puking all day and he had diarrhea. We've been trying to give him liquids and meds, but he's just vomited it up every time."

O- "You said your friend passed out. Is he breathing? Would you be able to check for me?"

M- I ran back into the bathroom to check. "Yes, he is breathing."

O- "Ok sir. Please go outside I have dispatched an ambulance, one is in route and should be there shortly."

M- "Ok thank you."

     I noticed Calum had gotten Luke into his clean boxers which I was thankful and I'm sure Luke would be just as such.

     "I'm going to wait for the ambulance just outside the bus." I told them as we heard sirens approaching. Just as I got outside the ambulance pulled up and three paramedics came rushing up to me with a gurney and some weird bright yellow board. I brought them to where Luke was laying and they immediately took him vitals and rolled him into his side and then back onto his back on the board. 'So that's what that is for' I thought. They started an i.v in Luke's hand and wrapped him in a blanket before strapping him on the board and carrying him out to the gurney and loaded him into the ambulance.

     "Whose riding with us?" One of the men asked.

     "Matt told me to have you go Ash." Calum turned to Ash and he sprinted toward the ambulance and climbed in.

Ashton's p.o.v:

     It took only 10 minutes to get to the hospital. Once we were there I was told to wait in the waiting room and fill out paperwork. 'Of course' I couldn't help but think. As I walked into the waiting room I saw Matt and he walked up to me and gave me a hug. I lost it. I broke down for the third time tonight. I don't want to even think about losing Luke.

     Michael  and Calum walked into the waiting room a couple minutes later and we all took turns filling out the paperwork. We talked amongst ourselves for a little over an hour.

     "Family for Hemmings?" A nurse suddenly yelled. We all jumped up and and practically ran over to her.

     "How is he?" I ask.

     "So, Luke had something called a febrile seizure, which is very rare in adults. It was caused from him having a temperature of 105.4 degrees. He is awake now. The seizure did no damage other than make him tired. We did give him some Bismuth subsalicylate, which is and anti-nausea and anti-diarreah medicine. We also are giving him an antiboitic to fight this flu, but he could be sick for a couple more days."

     "When can we see him?" Matt asked.

     "You are more than welcome to see him now. He may be tired though. He's in room 237. Follow me please." She said smiling.

     When we walked into the room Luke was asleep. I sat down next to his bed and held his hand that didn't have the i.v in it. He opened his eyes when I grabbed his hand. When he saw us he smiled.

     "Hey guys." He said.

     "Hey bud. You foreling any better?" Matt asked and Luke nodded slightly. His eyes started to close and reopen.

"You can go to sleep mate. We aren't going anywhere." He told him. Luke nodded again and closed his eyes.

     Just as promised we stayed in the room. Since he had a private room visiting hours didn't apply. The nurse came in the room at midnight to give him his meds. When Luke woke up again we were all asleep.

     "Ashton..." He gripped my hand lightly trying to wake me up. "Ashton..." Once again gripping my hand which woke me up. I looked at him and he was sweating and breathing relatively heavy.

     "You ok?" He shook his head and closed his eyes. I placed my hand on the sick bin on the bed table. "Luke?" He opened his eyes, saw my hand and nodded. I quickly handed it to him and he held onto it for a while trying to breathe. I sat his bed up so I would be easier for his stomach. He raised the bin under his chin and kept trying to breathe deeply, trying anything to avoid being sick. He leaned forward slightly and I started rubbing his back. He gagged hard suddnely, which woke Michael up. Michael immediately was at Luke's other side telling him it's ok. Luke wretched hard and then with a heave, was heavily vomiting again. I reached over and pressed the button for the nurse and she came in and looked sadly at Luke and waited for him to finish. After a couple minutes luke started dry heaving and spit into the bin before handing it to her.

     "Sorry for waking you guys." Like said just above a whisper.

     "Luke we don't mind. Michael said and I nodded. Luke ended up falling back to sleep and a few hours later the nurse walked back in and took his temperature.

     "Ok boys his temperature is normal you guys can leave when he wakes up and the discarge papers are signed." Michael and I nodded.

     When luke woke up he felt a lot better. His head and stomach no longer hurt and he felt like he had energy. He knew that it was most likely just the medicine, but it was ok. They left the hospital and with two days he was back to his bouncing, bubbly self.